A new low for Pee-Butt

Think your life is awful?  Let's compare.

As you know, I have an old dog.  Well, I have two old dogs but only one is Cute But Stupid.  As well as a big Pee-Butt, so dubbed because she's started to sleep so soundly through the night she doesn't wake up when she has to pee and instead....

She pees in my bed.

Ah, but last night was a new low for Pee-Butt.  First, she leaked on the couch, as I found out when I managed to roust her off the couch to get her Pee-Butt outside to empty said Pee-Butt before we went up to bed.  I had to kick her off the deck three times before she finally realized she was supposed to be out there peeing.  Finally!  It seemed safe to go to bed.

Or did it?  I seem to recall Pee-Butt getting up some time during the night and letting herself out.  That must have been when she reloaded.  Because she then proceeded to pee in the bed.  Not once, not twice, but -- from the size of the second wet spot (I caught the first one early and moved her Pee-Butt away from my head) I found her in this morning, THREE TIMES. 

Three times a Pee-Butt.

Oh but wait, it gets better.  Not only is my dog sleep peeing.  No no.  Now she's sleep POOPING. 

IN MY BED.

Thankfully it is a big bed. 

I noticed the big second wet spot when the alarm first went off.  As I lay my head back down, I said "That better be a piece of beauty bark I just spotted by your leg."

It wasn't.

I found two little tootsie rolls -- okay, JUMBO tootsie rolls -- next to my dog.  One by her big ol' Pee-Butt, the other underneath her, of all places. 

Words can not express how happy I am that (a) I shelled out big bucks for a fancy mattress pad when I got my new mattress because that sucker would stop nuclear waste from seeping through, and (b) I went with my instincts and did not put the freshly laundered down comforter back on the bed earlier this week.  You know, after I washed it thanks to the last exciting adventures of Pee-Butt.

I also need to wash the kitchen area rug thanks to my other dog who has almost no feeling in her back end any more and consequently tends to leak during the night.  But I can handle a rug. 

I may need to insist on separate beds soon.  Or else start sleeping in a wet suit.  I think that would be easier than trying to diaper a geriatric dog.

"No, no, I'm wet because I was just in a stream.  Really.  I promise."

Cheers,
the CilleyGirl

A Wah-Wah Wednesday

I have no idea what that title means.  Maybe it should be "Wah-Wah-Wah", you know that "oh, poor sad sack" noise they'd make on the old TV shows.  And with Screech on Saved by the Bell. 

I feel fairly sad sacky.  Tired tired tired no matter what, plus a couple of pounds have snuck on over the past few days with definitely no incentive for them to do so.  When you add in my bleary, achy, itchy eyes I think it's a stuffy sniffer that is giving me trouble.  Did you know that a stuffed nose leads to less oxygen as you sleep which leads to poor, unrestful sleep which then leads to insomnia?  I haven't hit the insomnia stage yet, knock on my big wooden skull, so it's back to Benedryl for me.

And no, I have no idea what's up with all the alliteration.  I may be heading for a psychotic break or something.

My boss was in for a few hours today, first time we've seen him all week.  He's sad but doing okay all things considered.  If you read or watch the Portland news and saw the story about the man who drowned near the Sellwod Bridge last Friday, that was my boss's brother.  His brother has always had health problems (at least in the seven years I've been here) so we all expected he might not live out all of his years because of that, but nothing like this.  I feel so sad for his family.

Anyhow, in other news there isn't much.  Did grocery shopping Monday night and managed to stick to paleo foods.  Until the cinnamon rolls.  Those are paleo, right?   Either way, they are gone now.  Tonight I would very much like food to magically show up at my house, all cooked and ready to go.  But unless my dogs have sprouted opposable thumbs since this morning, that's not going to happen.  Sad part is, I tell myself I should just go get something to eat and whatever, yet nothing sounds good.  Have you ever done that?  Decided to eat something really crappy -- or not even that crappy, just something outside of your norm -- and then you can't think of anything you want to eat?  Yet a zillion possibilities pop into your mind when you're just trying to drive home to your rabbit food dinner. 

Ah well, I'll think of something. 

I hope everyone is out there experiencing the zest and verve for life that I seem to have temporarily misplaced.  Have a little for me, will you?

Cheers,
the CilleyGirl

Never thought I'd say this, but s'mores? Are kind of meh.

I'm back!  The camping trip was successful; no lives were lost.  It was close, though.  I almost blew up the propane BBQ, one dog tried to eat a schnauzer, and the other dog is, well, Cute But Stupid.

It was too damn hot yesterday to do anything other than dump all my gear in the living room and empty the cooler so I have yet to download the pics I took.  I'll do it in the next couple of days.  In the meantime, here's the scoop.

I was up in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest, my favorite place to go camp.  It is in the southwest/central southern part of Washington.  This was my fourth campsite there, a place called Panther Creek that I picked for several reasons:

1.  Most folks don't realize that the federal parks have their own system and so they all end up in the extremely crowded (book in a year advance) state parks. 

2.  Because most folks are at the state parks, the federal campgrounds are a lot less crowded while still being extremely well maintained.

3.  I hadn't been to this site before. 

4.  It was the southernmost campground in the Giff'. 

5.  No one else calls it the Giff' that I know of, but surely any man named "Gifford Pinchot" had a nickname and I'm guessing that was it.

6.  That wasn't a reason I chose this particular campground.  I just thought I'd mention it.

7.  The campground had water.  (Important thing to check up in the Giff'.)

8.  It is described as a lightly used campground.

9.  There was a site open for the weekend I wanted to go.

10.  That's pretty much it.

Anyhow, Panther Creek, being so far south, was 90 minutes from my house.  It's ten miles north of Carson so basically highway, smaller highway, road, forest road, and you're there.  So that was nice.  It was almost full that weekend -- I think I saw maybe two sites empty out of the 33 -- but I picked a fairly isolated site so except for the people across from me I couldn't really see anyone else unless I left the site.  I was the only person camping solo that I saw except for maybe the camp host and I think she had a husband tucked away somewhere.

I have a huge tent but it sets up easily.  Except for that one pole.  Camp took about an hour and a half to set up completely; it would have taken only an hour except for that damn pole. 

My plan was to go as paleo as possible.  Except for s'mores and diet coke and powerade (it was really hot) I pretty much succeeded.  Friday dinner was turkey burger patties topped with swiss cheese (not paleo), mushrooms and BBQ sauce (also not paleo) and a side of broccoli.  I made a fire in anticipation of having s'mores.  Weird to have a fire when it's still about 80 degrees out but the mosquitoes came a'biting and I wanted to get in the tent before dark. 

I toasted a marshmallow and took a big bite and..... said wow this is really really really sweet.  I did another with some graham cracker which cut the sweetness a smidge but it was still a lot.  Thought maybe the whole s'more experience would solve the problem so I took the graham cracker with the milk chocolate (Hershey's, of course) and a toasted marshmallow..... and could barely choke it all down.  Way too sweet.  I haven't exactly been diligent about cutting out sugar in my semi-paleo world but apparently I've cut out more than I realized.  I had three or four more s'mores before finally giving up.  Okay, not really.  I stopped after the one. 

Saturday was bacon with eggs over easy.  I love eggs over easy.  I eat the white part first, saving the intact yolk for last.  Then I eat the yolk whole.  Yummmmmm.   The bacon was sadly disappointing.  No flavor.  It was odd.  I've never had crappy bacon before.  I was starting to think there was something wrong with my taste buds -- like I was getting a cold or something, I've lost my sense of smell and therefore taste with colds before -- but I had the bacon again on Sunday (mostly so the dogs could have some and the drippings in their kibble) and it still was blah.  It needed something.  Like flavor.  Or maple syrup. 

For lunch I had ham slices and strawberries and it was all paleo and fabulous.  Dinner was hot dogs (I found the most natural hot dogs I could, all things considered) and mushrooms and broccoli.  Mostly paleo, except for the ketchup.  The dogs liked the hotdogs.  I gave up on attempting any more s'mores, although I did eat some of the chocolate bars (those weren't quite as sweet as the marshmallows) and the dogs got the graham crackers as treats since I forgot to bring any.  Sunday I made an omelette stuffed with ham, mushrooms and swiss cheese (I may be a "paleo with cheese" person) and then the bacon for the dogs.  I may have also had chocolate. 

This is kind of dull, isn't it?  Okay, funny story.  My Schmart Dog, Ginger, wasn't on a tie out most of the weekend.  Except for the attempted schnauzer eating incident she was great.  There was a patch of greenery in the back of the campsite and she hung out there the entire time.  But Saturday night she started to get bored and kept trying to wander off down a trail on one side of our campsite.  When I said no, she went and stood in front of the tent door.  I asked if she wanted in the tent and she had this look on her face like she was thinking about it and then said, yes she did want in the tent.  I thought maybe she was sore from lying on the uncarpeted ground all weekend so I told her to get up on the bed.  She did and promptly started to nest.  Other than warning her not to pop the air mattress, I let her have at it.  But she didn't lay down and soon she wanted back out of the tent.

Where she promptly started trying to wander off down that trail again.  I said no and she turns and looks at me and then holds up a paw.  I said no again and -- I am not making this up -- she starts limping over to me.  Limping like she's just been hit by a car.  I think maybe she pulled a muscle jumping off the bed so I check her out and she seems fine.  I tell her to go lay down, she meanders around and then starts back down that damn trail again.  I call her name and again, she turns around and looks at me and holds up the paw again:     Mom, I have to go down that trail.  I'm asking her, what, is that the elephant graveyard back there?  She starts limping over to me again, like she's up for an Academy Award and it depends on this performance.  I say fine, let's take a walk down to the bathrooms and go from there.  I clip on her leash, get CBS on hers and off we go.  With Ginger walking beside me, no trace whatsoever of a limp.  Such a ham.

CBS is a high maintenance camper.  She has to be on a tie out or she'll wander off, lose me, and then run around frantically trying to find me.  On the tie out, however, she winds it around everything and everyone and then can't figure out why she can no longer reach the water dish.  We went to visit a waterfall and I tied her leash to a post for a few minutes and she proceeded to nearly strangle herself trying to follow me. 

All in all, a good camping trip.  Nice and peaceful and pretty.  I read a couple of books and otherwise cleared my mind of everything else.  Then I went in to work today to find out that my boss's brother drowned over the weekend.  If you live in the Portland area, it's been all over the news although they haven't released his name yet.  Life truly is short.

Cheers,
the CilleyGirl

My Garmin is dusty.

I noticed yesterday the other day that my pretty pretty Garmin is dusty.  Because I haven't run since... what?  Oh right, the Friar Trot.  Blergh.

I need a plan.  I am still in the lead for my division in my running league.  I could probably not run until the Fall Finale in October and still win my division, but that doesn't seem fair or in the spirit of things. 

I tried taking those BP meds in the evening rather than with all my other meds and it seems to have helped prevent the crushing rage attacks.  However, now I'm feeling extremely blah about everything.  I don't feel like reading.  I don't feel like watching TV or a movie.  I don't feel like going to work.  I don't feel like showering.  That last one is a big deal for me, I shower every single freaking day unless I'm camping or really, really, really ill.  Or have no legs.  Even then I'd still try.  Anyhow, no crushing rage but instead a sneaky depressive attack that if I wasn't watching for it I wouldn't have really realized it for what it was.   So I quit those meds again.

What I really need is a race.  A race to get me running again, even if I get a crappy race time.  I should be extremely well-rested by now.

I'm waiting to hear from my league director about which races actually count.  Since this is my first time in a running league I was confused by the recent e-mail I received on the subject.  There are three upcoming approved races, but also something about how only one counts and then it didn't say anything about a fourth approved race.  Long story short, my running budget is limited and I don't like running races during the week or in the evenings. 

But there is one race, it doesn't count towards my league standings, that will do very well as a kick in the ass for my running:  the Tigard FundRun 5K on August 8.  Not only does it benefit public schools, the course goes through my nemesis -- Cook Park.  Hey, maybe lady with the cane will be there!

Once I get paid again, I can sign up for a couple more races between now and the Fall Finale 5K.  And then hopefully keep on running!

Cheers,
the CilleyGirl

Blergh.

I have half a post written from yesterday that I didn't get to finish because I am deeply into writing the motion from HELL.  Ah, for the days of law school when you had a whole semester in which to write a motion.  You could do exhaustive research, take copious notes, draft a detailed and comprehensive outline, and then write a beautiful motion.  In the real world, your boss forgets to tell anybody that there is a briefing schedule until two weeks after our motion was due and the court is threatening to dismiss our appeal for lack of prosecution.  So then we whip out a little legal razzle dazzle and get the motion pushed off a couple of weeks but now it's due now because the legal razzle dazzle failed (although no definite date, just don't want to get another threatening dismissal notice) and since I am the (only) one who writes the damn things I am trying to squash what should take two whole weeks (at least) of all of my time into two days amidst constant interruptions. 

Eventually I will finish this motion and then finish my post and then it's camping and s'mores!!  With no cellular service!!  Yay!!!

Blergh.

Cheers,
the CilleyGirl

Memories.... in the corners of my mouth.

For some reason last night -- and I say "for some reason" because I was trying to go to sleep at the time -- I got to thinking about Shake 'n Bake.  Remember Shake 'n Bake?  I seem to remember commercials from when I was a kid (early 1970s) touting Shake 'n Bake as some great housewifely invention.  Now that all the housewives were working and not at home all day housewiving.  Shake 'n Bake would save them oodles of time for when they came home for work and were still expected to clean the house and have dinner on the table by 6:00 p.m.  My dad used to insist on that time, by the way.  No idea why. 

Anyhow, Shake 'n Bake.  I think they still make it, but I don't think they make the awesome BBQ Shake 'n Bake flavor any more.  Good on pork chops but oh so much better on chicken.  Because you left the skin on the chicken before you shook 'n baked. 

By the time I learned about Shake 'n Bake -- i.e., when I learned that food doesn't magically appear on the table -- my mom was no longer a stay at home mom, meaning that it was ME Shake 'n Bake was designed to save all that time and trouble.  (This was actually part of the commercials.  Not the latchkey kid part specifically but it was implied.)  By that time in my life, unless I wanted to eat leftovers yet again -- thereby coining the phrase "Starve for Yourself Night"* -- I had to cook.  Since I was a lazy little bitch who did nothing all day long (except for pull straight As in school and stuff like that) and I could pull my lazy nose out of that book and get off my lazy ass and cook some dinner.  Or else don't bitch about having leftovers again.  Yes, my life was like a Norman Rockwell painting; why do you ask? 

Anyhow, Shake 'n Bake.  While I did understand that food didn't appear on the table magically cooked (at least, not for anybody without a Y chromosome in my house), I remember believing that nobody made their own fried chicken anymore now that Kentucky Fried Chicken existed.  But with Shake 'n Bake I could have dinner that was mostly like Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Which was good, because I was only 11 and didn't have my license yet. 

The best part about shaking and baking on my own was I could pile on the extra BBQ coating that shook off.  I saw no reason to waste perfectly good shakey bakey BBQ goodness when all you had to do with pat it into a nice layer on top of whatever it was I was baking.  Pork chops worked really well for this. 

I remember Tollhouse cookies being really special.  As in, if your Mom (other kids) or you (my house) didn't buy Tollhouse chips or make Tollhouse cookies then you just weren't really loved.  Store bought cookies were okay so long as they weren't something you would otherwise make from a recipe.  Like, store bought chocolate chip cookies were bad, store bought iced molasses cookies were good because is there really such a thing as molasses anymore?  (My thinking when I was a kid.  Laura Ingalls used molasses, people.  Clearly it was no longer available now that we had stores and stuff.)  Plus you couldn't get the icing right at home with those cookies. 

Saltines were something you ate when you were sick and if your parents tried to make you eat saltines when you were well meant you clearly were not loved.  Ritz were special.  Ritz were usually only at parties, we had to save those for when company came over.  And if you were allowed access to graham crackers and a can of frosting by yourself, you were to be envied by everyone you knew. 

I knew a lot of kids for whom Top Ramen was generally forbidden and therefore a special kind of treat when they did get to have it.  After my dad left us, we lived on peanut butter and Top Ramen for about a year so it's just now moving back into that treat category for me.  I wasn't even all that big on it in college. 

I can remember thinking that trail mix was based on some sort of secret recipe.  Then I learned about GORP and was concerned that the trail mix people would get upset their secret was out. 

Now I'm making myself hungry so I'll stop.  But I am curious -- anyone have any regional snacks or dishes that are firmly cemented in childhood or other memories?  I'm reading about "hotdish" on Wikipedia and cracking up.  I don't think we have that kind of regional cuisine here in the Northwest.  Although when folks come to visit we're always saying "Crap!  They're going to want fish, aren't they?"

Cheers,
the CilleyGirl  


*To this day, I still have a strong aversion to leftovers.  Some things are acceptable left over:  meat, baked beans, mashed potatos (although not if you already put gravy on top).  So many things are not:  everything else.  My grandma, having been born in the Midwest right around the start of the Great Depression, will make a meal and then pull out six or seven small dishes of stuff where there's just a few bites left of each.  I tell her, Grandma - this is why we have dogs.  No leftovers!

Preparing for a paleo camping trip

This weekend will be my first camping trip in about three years.  It will also be my first camping trip, paleo style!  It is amazingly both difficult and easy to plan a camping trip around paleo.

At first I thought it would be tough to plan food.  Usually camping means something easy for breakfast like oatmeal, or else you definitely have camp toast.  Sandwiches are typically PB&J but I'm off the PB and the J and oh yeah the bread.  Burgers and hot dogs are easy choices, but again no bread so no buns.  At dinner you toss some potatos in the fire and let 'em bake.  How in the hell do you camp with a salad?  And without snacky foods like chips?

Then I thought about it and most of this will be pretty simple.  I added cured meats back into things, although I do try to get them made with natural ingredients.  I have chicken sausages, thick cut bacon, and ham to choose from to have with eggs for the first meal, and the ham would be fine cold for snacking.  For second meal I have hot dogs and turkey burgers plus something marinated to grill up.  Mushrooms to saute.  I could steam veggies too, and the broccoli travels well.  Containers of cut up fruit like cantaloupe and strawberries plus berries, apples and bananas for meals and snacks.  I think I'll track down a recipe to toast those raw almonds I'm not fond of, have those for snacks too. 

And s'mores.  Those are paleo.  Yes they are.  Yes, they are.  YES THEY ARE. 

Speaking of s'mores, I decided to get most of the camping supplies during my regular weekly shopping trip so that I wouldn't have to try to do it later in the week.  I had a lot of things on my list which I don't normally buy, like graham crackers and marshmallows but also antibacterial wipes.  Why do they hide those?  Took me a good 20 minutes to find the wipes, which could have been in three other, logical, places but were not.  Then, not only were they in a completely random spot, they were on the top shelf waaaay in the back.  Weird.  I also now have all this extra stuff for what I don't normally buy.  Like I wanted a single pack of graham crackers but I have a whole big box.  Ten marshmallows versus a whole bag.  I won't bitch about the six pack of Hershey bars though.  *snerk* 

And speaking of paleo, I had my first real meal containing more than a smidge of wheat in a few weeks (pizza) and then the next morning I woke up with a persistent tummy bug.  My friends tell me a stomach bug is going around but I'm not entirely sure that's what it is.  I also had a pint of ice cream -- chocolate with peanut butter -- once I started to feel better.  And then a short time late I wasn't feeling so better.  Hmmm.  All pizza and ice cream are now gone and I don't have any plans to have them again any time soon.   My big box o'meat is nice and full with grilled chicken breasts and pork tenderloin.  Yum yum yum yum yum!!

Cheers,
the CilleyGirl