Oops, I did it again

I sprained my ankle again, this time injuring the Achilles tendon where it attaches to the bone in the heel. I know, I know. Only I could sprain the same ankle twice in a two week span and injure it differently each time... It's a special talent I have, and it's taken me my whole life to date to perfect it. My doctor tells me that when you tear ligaments that it kills some of the nerves (in the ligament one must assume), so while you may recover strength in an injured joint you need to retrain the remaining nerves to react faster to prevent re-injury. Or something like that. He mentioned balancing on a medicine ball or balance board as ways to retrain these nerves. Sounds like just one more thing I'm gonna have to shell out cash for. But not until the cast comes off...

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A Brief Update on the State of Affairs

Sadly, I'm not having any affairs.

Sorry, a rather bad joke that.

So. Apparently I haven't written anything in quite a while. What can I say, there's nothing happening in my life these days that's worth writing about. Which is not to say that nothing has happened. In point of fact two once-a-year things happened to me all in the same 7-day span. Well, it's a 7-day span if you include tomorrow. Dammit. It's MY blog, and I'll include near-future events if I want to.
So. In any case. The first once-a-year thing that happened is I walked outside (in my typically untied shoes), stepped off the deck into a half filled-in post hole and severely sprained my left ankle (incidentally the same ankle I sprained in India only it was much, much worse this time). I fell over, and screamed my head off. My voice still hasn't recovered (to say nothing of my ankle). There I was lying on my side in the wet grass, clutching my ankle and screaming, all the while thinking: "I hope I didn't land in a pile of dog shit. I should have picked up the dog shit this morning. God, I have to stop screaming. Why am I screaming???? I hope I'm not lying in dog shit"... In any case, I eventually managed to stop screaming (I'm not too sure it was voluntary, my vocal chords probably just wore out) and crawled across the deck, into the house, to the medicine cabinet where (praise be to Gitche Manitou) I found an old bottle of Tylenol 3, then on to pass out on the couch. Not that I actually managed to pass out, but I tried. Thankfully I've made a fair recovery in the past few days, and I can almost sort of walk again.
Which brings me to my second once-a-year thing. It's election time for my band, which means the chief is heading west! That's right folks, my band is so wealthy (cough, choke, gasp, wheeze -I can hardly hold back the laughter) that every second year the chief and band manager hit the left coast and take the western band members (curiously enough all relatives of mine) out for dinner. Usually somewhere exceedingly expensive. To be honest I wish they'd just send each of us a cheque for $500 or so and just be done with it. But I'm gonna go, 'cause the food is good, and it's free. Plus I'm gonna drop some hints about wanting some more money for school.
So that's it. All the news that's new and exciting in my world. Oh yeah, and I've hired someone (and it cost an obscene amount of money) to train the damn pup. Of course, now I have to wait for my ankle to heal a bit. All things in good time. Oh and for a picture, since there is no photographic record of my stellar sprain-my-ankle-then-wonder-if-I'm-lying-in-dog-shit moment, I will put up a picture of Ana, who looks like she might have been having that very same "am I lying on something nasty?" thought when I snapped this pic.

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Epiphany

Last night I was down at a friend's place for dinner when I had an epiphany. I have finally figured out why it is that life is so difficult: I am climbing a hill. "Climbing a hill?" you ask. Yes my friends, we are all climbing hills. It came to my realization when somebody said "Your dad's what, 68? Damn, he's over the hill..."
And then it hit me. I'm still climbing that proverbial hill.
Although I suppose that saying life is easier once you've crested the hill is a gross assumption on my part. After all, my dad still works 40 hours a week, and by all indications he will continue to do so until he drops dead in the traces.
Well. That's it I guess. It all seems sort of anti-climactic now. But I'm telling ya, if I had been a cartoon, a little light bulb would've magically appeared above my head while angels sang the hallelujah chorus in the background...
As it would be too much work to upload video showing a dramatic re-enactment of the event, I will put up an artist's (that's a bit of a stretch) rendition instead.

And now you all know why I'm not making my living as an illustrator.

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Mea Culpa

So it snowed again. And yes folks, it is all my fault. It would seem I made a rather rash prediction that it would not snow again this season.
In my defense, I never did go out and buy snow boots. If I had, it never would have snowed. But I decided that I should save my money for the cruise I went on a week or so ago. Which ended up being a truly crap experience anyways. I might as well have gone out and bought snow boots when I said I was going to. Not that a lack of money would have improved the cruise any...
I am still trying to recover from the weird super-virus I picked up on that boat. 30 plus degrees, the middle of the feckin Caribbean, and I spent half my time passed out in bed. The only thing that cruise had to recommend it was the food. And really, you can only eat so much in a day. After I got sick on the third day I couldn't taste anything anyways. I think I might actually have lost more weight on that one week cruise than I did in 6 weeks of travel in Asia. Live and learn I guess. The year's lessons thus far: buy the damn snow boots when you need them and just say no to cruises.
On account of I try to include pictures in my posts I'll put up a picture of a big green leaf I took while in Belize. Why did I take a picture of a big green leaf? I'm really not too sure. Possibly the combined effects of the weird virus and sunstroke. Or maybe it was just a little too much cashew wine.

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Wee Geordie

I recently bought a new puppy. The last thing I really needed was another animal as I already have far too many, but I had been missing my darling big, black, woobie Hounslow terribly. It's not that I expected that he could ever be replaced, but I needed something to fill the hole he left in my world. Hounslow of course was a black lab. I've owned many over the years, but this time I opted for something different, a border collie. I already have a border collie named Emma and she's about the smartest dog that ever walked the earth. In any case, I scoured the web searching for the perfect dog to add to my canine crew. First I searched the SPCA and the Border Collie Rescue Society. No luck there as they won't adopt out Border Collies to homes with children and I have three rugrats 3-4 days a week. So I went through all the pet adds in the buy and sell. We ended up choosing a puppy from a family up in Bridge Lake. The pup's parents were both champions of sheep trials, and while I own no sheep (thank god) I thought that it would be nice to have a dog with winning bloodlines. Not only that, but he was a steal for a purebred at only $250 (Emma cost me $350) and they delivered him right to our doorstep. We named him Geordie.
All went well for half a week.
Then Geordie met Jeffie.
It was not a fair match.
Jeffie outweighs Geordie by at least 50%.
He's bigger.
And meaner.
And has huge claws.
I'm talking about a cat who once sent a grown man to the hospital to get stitches.
So my bargain basement border collie has turned into a nearly $1000 investment. He's been to the regular vet once, and a specialised (read exceedingly costly) veterinary opthamologist twice. He's going back to see her in January. At this point in time we don't yet know if he will need surgery, as Jeffie's claws apparently went right through the iris. And the cornea. And then the lens. Poor Geordie has a cataract, which the vet says may heal on it's own as he is so very young. Thankfully the cornea is almost completely healed. So to all those out there who read my blog please say a little prayer to whatever gods or deities you believe in that my little puppy will heal his cataract all on his own without surgery. We appreciate your kind thoughts.

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