Category Archives: life

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Copper has died; Long live Copper in our hearts. (Thoughts on euthanasia)

Note: part of this was begun on Monday, November 26, a day before Copper died.

He was terminal. He was not going to get better. His bone marrow was not producing red blood cells and the RBCs he had were dying. He was dying. He was not that same dog that would jump from five steps up to get to the door to go outside. He didn’t want his favorite treat. He turned his head when I tried to give him a cooked turkey liver.

It was painful; not for him but for me as I watched him waste away by the hour. He was not suffering, physically. A low RBC, at its basic level, causes a person to be tired, lethargic. That was Copper, sometimes too tired to lift his head. It was not natural. It was not Copper.

(Below was written on the 26th. I have tried not to edit it as the writing was fresh and raw)

He was ‘hospitalized’ at the vet’s office and given an IV of meds to help him get better. Many tests were done and many things were ruled out but it was hard to come up with an answer as to why he was so ill; he looked healthy. Comparing blood tests started showing that his blood was deteriorating but the vet did not know if it was a production problem or a destruction problem.

We now have answers and have to look at what is best for our dog, our family member. Copper is not producing red blood cells. And the blood cells that he has are looking very tired. Soon he will not have any red blood cells in his body.

What does this mean to a dog or a person? Well, he gets tired very easily; he is lethargic; he has lost his appetite. That is because the red blood cells move oxygen around the body. That is not happening. Copper also has low platelets. That is actually why he was initially taken to the vet, he kept bleeding from the nose and mouth. It was just odd, but that is what happens when there are not enough platelets, you bleed, or when you start, it is hard to stop.

We had plans to be away from home for Thanksgiving. We did not know how Copper was going to handle us being away so we left him with the vet and kept our Tinkerbelle at home with our niece. When I went to pick up Copper today, we had one last blood test to confirm what the vet had feared; Copper was dying and it would not be long before he was dead. Through many tears, I learned all I needed to know to be able to go home and share with the family our options.

I now await the arrival of our children to discuss the end of life plan for our dearest family member, Copper. I brought Copper home so we can share our last moments, to have closure, to say to him what we need to say, to say good-bye. It is hard to believe that soon he will no longer be physically with us.

(That is all I could write. The rest was written today and is still wrought with emotion but there have been a few days to process what has happened)

Murphy’s Law went into action. Talking to the family did not go as planned. My son did not get my text because his phone had died so he did not come home right after school. I had to pick my daughter up from school because…my son did not get my text. Conversations were done individually.

The initial discussion happened with my husband as soon as Copper and I got home from the vet’s. Through a bucket full of tears, we talked about, not what was best for us but, what was best for Copper. He needed to be allowed to be at peace. I cannot say that he needed to be without pain because I could tell that he was not in pain. You live with someone for nine and a half years, you get to know them and he was not in pain; he was sad. The life that he had in his eyes before we went away for Thanksgiving was gone. Before he had a sparkle; that was gone. He was oh so skinny. He had lost 5 pounds, more than 25% of his body weight in three weeks.

Kent and I decided that we would have a discussion with our children about ending his misery. Kent went ahead and called Dr. Johnson and made an appointment to have him put down the next day. Our thought was, we could always cancel the appointment if the kids were not on board.

NOW, let me tell you, I believe in euthanasia. I have believed in euthanasia for as long as I can remember. I wrote term papers on passive euthanasia in high school and college. I gave speeches on euthanasia. Kent and I signed Living Wills, as soon as we were married, stating that we did not want to be kept alive by artificial means if there was no hope of recovery. We had that discussion again when a friend of ours was in a bicycle accident. It is not something that we don’t talk about. It is something that we discuss with family so everyone knows how we feel.

I spoke with my daughter as I drove the 10 miles from the high school to home. She asked if she needed to take over driving as the tears ran down my cheeks. But I said no because I needed something to concentrate on, even if it was only driving a road that I have driven thousands of times. She knew what I was going to say. She had been preparing since I had sent the text 5 hours prior. She knew and she knew that Copper needed to be released. She was not fine but she was okay.

My son got home after martial arts and we had the talk. I can still hear him say, “Oh, Copper,” the way he did almost every day. I told him, as I had told my daughter, that he needed to say his goodbyes because tomorrow was the day.

Monday was a blur. And Tuesday came too quickly.

We have a dog door that goes into the garage where the dogs have a special place to get out of Nebraska weather. There are also dog houses and chairs for them to sit on outside, when the weather is nice. Needless to say, our dogs are very spoiled.

Well, we put Copper in the garage to be with Tinkerbelle and I would go out an check on him frequently. There were a few times throughout the day, I would go out and lie next to him, stroke his soft, curly hair and just talk. Talk to him about how much I loved him and how lucky we were to have him in our lives. I told him that what we were doing was to make him well in another place (I do believe that an animal’s life does not end here on Earth. I have to believe that) I also told him I was sorry because what we were doing, no matter how much I thought it was the correct decision, was a hard decision.

About 45 minutes before he was to go to the vet’s, I picked him up; he was no longer able to walk much of a distance without tripping or falling. I took him outside and told him to ‘go potty’. He stumbled around a little and then I picked him up and brought him inside. I sat holding him on the ‘dog sofa’. It was the last time I would hold him. His head lie limply on my chest. I was hoping he could hear my heart beat and know that it was more than just an organ that pushed blood throughout my body. I was hoping he knew that it was a heart that was breaking, that was so full of love, that it needed to let him go so  he could be healed. I just took it all in and prayed that there really was a Rainbow Bridge that our pets crossed over to another life.

It was decided that Tinkerbelle would go to the vet’s with me so she knew that Copper had died. She needed to know that Copper was not coming home. She had seen him leave over the past three weeks and he had always come home. Tinkerbelle needed to know that her friend would not be around anymore.

Dr. Johnson told me on Monday that the process would take about 20 minutes but I needed to block out an hour in case his office got busy. He wanted the process to happen without interruption so he wanted me to be prepared to not have things begin at the scheduled time. I was okay with that.

We drove to town and I continued to talk to both dogs the whole way. The tears had not started, yet. Getting out of the car I had Copper in my arms and little Tinkerbelle on a leash. Tinkerbelle was nervous because the last time she was at the vet office was to give a blood transfusion to Copper when we did not have a diagnosis.

(I am going to explain the process and my experience. If you do not want to read about it, please go down to the XXXXXX’s. You can start reading again after that).

It was 4:45. The office was not busy. It was us and the office staff. We were directed into the room where we always go; the exam room where we learned of Copper’s fate. I laid Copper on the cold, stainless steel table and continued stroking his coat. Tinkerbelle was roaming the exam room, shaking like a leaf, not sure what to expect.

The vet and his assistant came into the room and again explained the procedure that was going to occur. He had explained it Monday to make sure that we were completely informed as to what would happen. Euthanasia is derived from two Greek words which together mean ‘good death’. That is what we wanted for Copper, a good death.

It was time. I let the assistant take over controlling Copper on the table. It was really not necessary because he was lying there not moving but I moved to petting his head and hoping he felt the love. Doc Johnson leaned over and whispered something in Copper’s ear. I don’t know what was said, but I imagine it was something about everything was going to be okay, he was going to be in a better place, he was loved. It was their private moment.

At this time, I picked up Tinkerbelle and held her as Copper’s leg was shaved for the injection. A tourniquet was put around his leg and Doc tried to find the vein. “That vein is gone.” Oh wow! He explained that he needed to prep the other back leg. So he moved that leg aside and shaved his other leg and put a tourniquet on it. He told me that he was able to find that vein and started the injection.

I swear that within 30 seconds he looked at me and said, “He is gone”. I looked shocked and said, “So soon.” He looked at my tear filled eyes and said, “He was almost there. He just needed a little help.”

It was peaceful. There was no release of air from his lungs. There were no fluids leaving his body (which I knew was a possibility at death). His eyes stayed open (which I have read is natural). I think that is why I was so surprised that he was dead. It took less than a minute and his eyes were open. Oh Man! Copper was dead!

Dr. Johnson told his assistant to go get a towel so Copper could be laid on the floor for Tinkerbelle to see him. I don’t know if it was the assistant or the doctor that laid Copper on the floor. All I remember is when Copper was picked up, his head flopped back because it was not supported; the sign I needed that confirmed his death. I know that sounds weird but him laying on the table and his chest not rising, did not confirm it for me; the vet saying he was dead did not confirm it. His head flop confirmed it and I was sad.

Tinkerbelle sniffed a little but would not get close to Copper. I put her tennis ball close, but she would not go after it. I knew she knew Copper was dead because nothing would stop Tinkerbelle from going after her tennis ball.

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Dr. Johnson explained, on Monday, that Tinkerbelle would go through the same grieving process that a person goes through. We were not to be surprised if she started ripping up pillows and that was okay because she needed to work through her grief. I have seen a change in Tinkerbelle. She does want to be held more. She does not rollick in the back yard like she did with Copper. She will get better. We just have to be patient. (She still likes her tennis balls though!)

It is appropriate that as I write this the vet office called and said Copper’s ashes are ready for pick up. We opted to have him cremated. We will decide at a later date whether to have has ashes stored in an urn (which my son wants to make in Advanced Pottery) or have his ashes spread in a favorite spot.

Copper is dead but he will forever live in the heart’s of those who loved him. My grief is not over. But I am better. And I know Copper is better. Two comments were made that put a smile on my face: from my sister who commented after I sent out an announcement to family and close friends,  ‘I just wondered how Copper was doing. He’s doing GREAT! He and Jake are chasing butterflies beyond the Rainbow Bridge. I’ve got tears for you all and for all our wonderful nonhuman family members. You’re right, they do tell you when they’re ready to go, even if you’re not ready.’ And from my neighbor after I posted his ‘obituary’ on Facebook, ‘We all are sorry to hear about Copper.  Will miss seeing him romp through the side yard!’ 

I am so grateful for the person who envisioned the Rainbow Bridge, a place for our beloved pets to roam after death. Whether it is true or not, whether they cross the Rainbow Bridge or head directly to ‘people’ Heaven, I have hope that Copper will be with me again, when my time comes. http://www.rainbowbridge.com/hello.htm

Blessings to all of you who have suffered the death of a pet. Copper’s death is probably one of the most devastating deaths that I have experienced. He was always true and loving and never judged me (at least I can believe that because he could not speak to me in human speak). There will never be another Copper.

In memory of Hollybriar Copper Wired Van Horn b. 5/21/03 d. 11/27/12

This is the last photo taken of Copper

This is the last photo taken of Copper

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How do we use our words?

I have a very diverse life. I have been blessed to experience many aspects of life. I have had full-time jobs, part-time jobs, and non-paying jobs. I am a wife, a mother a friend. And as I write this, I notice that my first three sentences all begin ‘I have’. My thoughts run to “how selfish am I to be thinking about what ‘I have’ instead of what I can do, or be, or give.’

And that makes me laugh because my family is very conscious of our giving both in time and finances to organizations and people who are less fortunate than our family. So why is it that I look at those sentences and cringe and think of the selfishness of the word have?

The first definition of have in the Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary is…’to hold or maintain as a possession, privilege, or entitlement: to hold in one’s use, service, regard or at one’s disposal.’ The definition goes on but it never sounds positive. Further down in the definition it actually says that it can mean to ‘take advantage of: TRICK, FOOL (as in been had by his partner).’ One of the only positive spins I see in the wordage has to deal with marriage ‘to accept marriage’. No wonder I felt a little queasy after seeing the first three sentences I wrote.

So I go one step further and find Roget’s Thesaurus hoping for some affirmation that have is not a bad word and should not need to be struck from my vocabulary. I begin to think how hard it is going to be to find words or phrases that can replace the word have. I am somewhat pleased that the first word to replace have in the thesaurus is understand. Okay, that is a good word. The next word sends me in the dumps again…possess…ugh, the third word include, YEA! I continue looking at the thesaurus and see that there are over four and a half pages, or approximately 1000, have phrases in which the thesaurus gives alternative wording.

I don’t want to think that have is a bad word. I have many things and I know that means a lot in our ability to give. It says in the Bible (paraphrase) to those who have been given much, much will be expected. I believe that one reaps the other (my words) because I have, I can give. Because I give, I have. I do believe that I am blessed because of my trying to be of service to others.

You cannot give what is not there. I find time to give to volunteer organizations because it is important to me. When my children were young, I was their Girl Scout and/or Cub Scout leader. Before we started homeschooling, I volunteered at their school.

If something is important, you can find the time; you find a way to fit it in to your schedule even if it is stuffing envelopes at your home after the kids are in bed. I used to tell people why I volunteered so much was to make up for those who did not have the time. I did not have a full-time job so I was more flexible than those who worked full-time.

Sometimes, the unimportant things get pushed to the side temporarily. I think that is the personality of many women; they sacrifice themselves for others and say that there will always be time for themselves when their children get older.  While I would really like to spend my days quilting, there are more important things that I can be doing to help impact lives and our community.

I believe that I am doing all I can. I devote many hours to volunteering. As my children get older, my volunteer focus changes. They don’t need me as much anymore and their activities don’t lend themselves to needing me as a volunteer. But my giving does not stop, it just evolves.

In this season of giving, it would be nice if everyone took the time to look at their life, see how it impacts their family, their community, our world. If everyone, and I mean everyone, gave up one hour a week (on average) to help someone, to help an organization, think of the millions of hours that will have been given to better our world. It is just an hour, 52 hours over the year, just a little more than 1.25 of a work week, to make this place we call home, better.

Now don’t get me wrong; I am not asking everyone to restrict their volunteering to one hour a week. I would love it if everyone who is not already volunteering began donating an hour a week. I know there are people out there that do not give anything for one reason or another. Volunteering is not limited to adults, children as young as five can find something to do. The Girl Scout program and Cub Scout program provide many opportunities for service.

This is the only world I know. The way that I treat it, I believe, has an impact on how I live and feel and how the world and its inhabitants feel about me. If I see something that needs to be done and feel passionate about it, if I do not act, who will?

If someone sees a small fire and does not put it out, the end result can be destructive and deadly. How many small fires do we see throughout our day, that if we would just act, could be squelched and stopped in a short time? How many of those small fires are allowed to burn and destroy so much? We see it all of the time during the dry season. If someone would have not dropped that cigarette or made sure that their campfire was extinguished… If someone would have addressed their angry feelings, immediately, instead of letting them smolder and grow into a ‘forest fire’, what a better world we would have.

Think about the things that you have. Do you have enough that you could share just a little to someone or an organization that has nothing? Let’s take our positive haves and help out those that have nothing.

This is totally not where this blog was going today but this is where I was led. I hope that everyone has a chance to be led where they have never thought and make an impact in ways they could never imagine.

Luke 12:48 ‘But someone who does not know, and then does something wrong, will be punished only lightly. When someone has been given much, much will be required in return; and when someone have been entrusted with much, even more will be required.’ (New Living Translation)

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Growing old…appreciating life…damning life

Okay, I have to be honest; I don’t know if this writing is more about the thoughts running through my head or the wine running through my veins, but I feel compelled to write, to share, to cry, to vent or share whatever comes out of these fingers.

I am alone. I am not lonely. My family has just left a day before me for a Thanksgiving holiday. I will greet them tomorrow, after taking care of some household necessities, meeting up with our house sitter, getting our ailing dog to the vet and making sure that our dog staying home has all she needs.

I am sad. I have come to the realization that our nine and a half-year old dog is dying. We have had all the tests, had him hospitalized with the vet to try to figure out what is wrong. He is not making platelets or his body is destroying the platelets that are being made. Anyway you look at it, he is dying and I am sad. I look at him not being able to walk up the stairs in our home and I am sad. I watch him as he cannot eat his favorite snack and I am sad. While I know he is not my child, my tears are real and my pain is true.

I have read in the newspaper two things that truly disturb me; 1) Legalizing marijuana because enforcing the laws as an illegal substance is overcrowding our prisons and 2) not allowing nativities in a community.

If you have read my blog before, you know I am a Christian woman. I do not understand that a country that is more than 50% Christian can say it is illegal to celebrate the birth of our Saviour, Jesus Christ. And it is not just that we should be allowed to celebrate Christmas and Easter as Christian holidays, I believe that acknowledging other faiths is okay if it means that we, as Christians, can be open about our faith. Having a Menorah does not lessen my faith as a Christian. Why do we have to be denied our faith? We should not have to sacrifice our faith just as those who are Jewish, should not have to sacrifice their faith. Why can’t we work, as a country, to be open to all, even Christians!

It seems that people have decided that it is easier to lower out morals than to enforce the laws we have or guide our children to lower their standards. Many may say that I am a strict parent and expect too much of my children. I will tell you, that until the day I die, I will always say that you should wait to have sex until you are married and that living together is the easy way out.

If we teach our children about commitment in a marriage and that it is not something you throw away because there are problems, we teach them to think before they act, to be sure that the decisions that they make are for the long-term. If I would have walked away from my marriage every time there was a problem, I would have been divorced by now. I love my husband, very dearly, and I would not want to be with any other man, but we have had our conflicts. That is natural. I cannot think that there are any two people who think exactly alike. That is what makes life interesting. And I am not an ultra conservative Christian, so while you might look at the above rantings as that of an ultra conservative, think again. I believe that we should teach our society to be committed and look towards the future in all: work, relationships, living and not just believe that we can just move on to the next thing when we tire of what we do or have.

BUT I think that we need to be respectful, more controlling of our thoughts and actions and realize that we should not be a society of instant gratification. What is wrong with waiting until you are a responsible adult to have sex? What is wrong with having drugs be illegal? Why is it wrong to error on the side of modesty than flamboyance?

I just don’t get it. I just have to wonder if our world is just falling apart.  As I have told friends, “It is hard to close Pandora’s box. How do we get back to a world of responsibility, of modesty, of deference, when it has all been done and accepted as normal?”

I fear for my children. I hope that in their upbringing to appreciate nice things, hard work, respect and modesty, that they are not swallowed up by the world. I hope that they can survive, be a positive influence, be a beacon of their faith and give hope to the world, that it can be a loving world.

It is funny. While I think these things, they have come to the surface because of the mortality of a dog. My thought to say, ‘just a dog’ for emphasis enters my mind, but he is so much more than ‘just a dog’. Copper, is a true dog, someone who is loyal, loving and faithful. I wish that I could be like a dog. I wish that I could be always loyal, loving and faithful. As a human, I cannot be that perfect. Oh to be a dog, for that perfection.

I don’t know if Copper is going to die in three days, three months or three years, but I know that he is better at being a dog than I am at being a person. And that makes me sad, lonely and oh so wanting to be more like a dog. Maybe that is why dog and GOD use the same letters…so close to perfection.

I will let this sit for the night. In reviewing, I believe all I wrote, and even in the light of day, wine or not, I am sure I will stand by these words. God bless my dog, for his is perfection!

(I have re-read, and stand by my words.)

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Being Thankful…Always

Many think about being thankful at Thanksgiving time. I try to be thankful everyday because that is what my faith says. Whether things happen that are good or bad, I need to find something to be thankful. I learned that, many years ago, when we had an unemployed household. And I continue to learn daily.

I quit working, for pay, when our family moved to Spain. When we moved home, it was decided that I would continue to not work for pay so I could manage the home, the children, our lives, as Kent would continue to travel in the United States for his work.

Well…that was the thing, there needed to be employment. That did not happen for nine months. We were faced with financial and social strains that we could never have imagined.

All of the friends that we had in Spain were no longer available in our life. There were no more business lunches or dinners or drinks. And things had changed at home as well.

Kent would go to his office, in our home, every day but there was no connection to others. I would take our son to the bus for Kindergarten and take our daughter to pre-school and we would go to church on Wednesday and Sunday, but things were different. There was a disconnection with our life.

Life moved forward without us in the United States. The friends with whom we had socialized had met new friends and it was hard to fit us into their busy schedule. We had our son at school in one town, our daughter in pre-school in another town and our church was in a different town. It was a mess and it was getting difficult to act as if everything was okay in our home. There was a lot of stress and arguments. How could we pay our bills? How did we get to be so distant from our friends? How are we going to survive?

There did not seem to be much to be thankful. I felt my life was falling apart. But I had to find something. So I began thinking: ‘We may not have a job, but we have money to pay for insurance; if someone becomes ill we can still go to the doctor. We still have a roof over our heard. We still have food to eat. The adults may not be getting along, but we still need to be thankful that our children are happy.’ No matter what our ailments, place in life, our financial status, I can be thankful that I wake up in the morning.

In my life as a Christian, I do not always do what is proper. I don’t always pray as I should. But, I think, always give credit to The One who sees to my needs. While things were not easy for those nine months, we survived and grew stronger. It was because of my faith that I muddled through and learned and became a better person.

I P.R.A.Y.

When I have a conversation with God, I Praise first. I thank God for all of the things that he has given me. Sometimes what I am given is not what I want but it is what I need. It is through our trials and tribulations that we grow in our faith. If things were always hunky-dory, we could not grow as a person; we would become spoiled brats, always getting our way.

Next I Repent. I ask God to forgive me for falling short of His expectations. And I fall short every day.

Thirdly, I Ask. I don’t ask for things because that is not what we need. I ask for guidance and inspiration and His patience, while I try to figure it all out.

And lastly, I Yield. To me that means that I give myself to Him to use my life as He sees fit. Does that mean that I become a Job-type character and I am inflicted with sores and poverty? Or am I blessed to no end and can take my blessings to help others? I don’t know. On any given day, I think that I could be used as either. But however I am used, I remain thankful, thankful for my loving, imperfect family and my blessed and imperfect life.

Now, after nine months of unemployment, my husband did find a job. We have not had that sort of turmoil in our home since. It was a great learning experience and through our trials, we grew as a family. I do not have all of those lessons down pat; I still make huge mistakes in my life. But I know that I can survive. When it does not seem that I can, I P.R.A.Y.

Happy Thanksgiving, every day!

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Cooking to Clear My Head

My head is just spinning from everything that happened last week. I look at my poor boy (see previous post) and the matted hair on his legs that are tinged red because of the blood. I look at his nose that is clotted with blood and I just feel nothing but pain. The vet told me today that clotting is good so I just keep his nose clear enough to breathe. No big test results back yet; hopefully they will know something tomorrow.

I spoke with my friend who is a nurse and she explained what could be causing his low platelets. While his eating has slowed down (probably from the yucky blood taste in his mouth), his tail still wags and he looks bright in his eyes.

BUT….on to my day.

To get my mind off of things, I decided I needed to clean up my frig and freezer. And what I mean by that is, I needed to get those old bananas baked up; I needed to use the pumpkin that I baked earlier this month; I needed to make something with the fresh corn that I froze. It was going to be a baking/creating day.

I used a base quick bread recipe and then added my mix-ins. The base recipe is as follows:

  • 3 c. flour
  • 1 t. salt
  • 2 t. baking soda
  • 2 c. sugar
  • 1 c. oil
  • 4 eggs

Mix the flour, salt, baking soda, and any spices; set aside.

Combine the sugar and oil; mix until smooth. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing after each addition. Slowly add the dry ingredients.  Beat for 2 minutes.

Depending on the type of bread you are making, will determine when you add your mix-ins. If you add pumpkin or bananas, add to the wet ingredients before adding your flour mixture. If adding chocolate chips, raisins (dried cranberries, dried cherries, etc…) or nuts, add after the flour mixture.

Your main add-ins should equal 2 cups: 2 cups bananas (6 medium), 2 cups pumpkin, 2 cups, applesauce, or any combination there of. You can then add nuts, chocolate chips, raisins. Your spices should equal 2 teaspoons. (For the pumpkin muffins: add pumpkin pie spice, bananas: cinnamon and ginger) (And yes, I know that I do not have the popular KitchenAid Mixer but this was a Wedding Gift from my grandparents [previous post], so I cherish it)

This recipe made enough to be put in 3 – 10″ greased loaf pans. Bake for 50 minutes @ 325 degrees. I have a convection oven so you may have to adjust your baking times.

This recipe is not a sticky topped bread. The top has a nice crust on it which is what I prefer.

I was a busy girl; I made 10 large loaves and 11 small loaves of bread. My types were: Pumpkin, Banana, Banana Nut, Peanut Butter Banana Chocolate Chip (I used the peanut butter as the oil and then added a little oil to get the correct consistency), Chocolate Chip – Dried Cherry(I adjusted this recipe and added milk to make the batter more moist since there were no moist additions. With this recipe, grease and flour the loaf pans).

                                                                                        I also made a 10 X 15 pan of Pumpkin Bars with Cream Cheese Frosting and a Chicken Corn Chowder.

I wish I would have done a better job with remembering the recipe for the Chicken Corn Chowder. I know I used 2.5 large chicken breasts that I cooked in water. In the same water I added fresh frozen corn (probably about 3 cups) and then added 5 medium-sized potatoes, peeled and cubed. The spices I used were salt, pepper, coriander, dried mustard, minced onion and ground thyme. When the potatoes were cooked, I added 2 T. of butter and milk (1 or 2 cups). The only thing I would have done different is frying the potato cubes in oil so they would have stayed firmer. It was very good, don’t get me wrong but next time, I will get a crisp layer on the potatoes before putting them in the soup.

This all day cooking did help my mood. And while I know it meant nothing to Copper, since he was isolated at the time of my cooking, he does have a bounce in his step that he hasn’t had for a few days. I heard him bark today which hasn’t happened for a while.

My head is definitely getting cleared and my family has a lot of home cooked food to bring them comfort. I hope that this is all good karma and news will come tomorrow from the laboratories. If not, I still have 2 cups of pumpkin and probably 3 cups of bananas that I can create some more …maybe a black bean pumpkin soup or a Cuban black bean banana something; my choices are endless. I hope that I can create out of love instead of stress on my next baking/cooking day.

I will keep you updated.

(View from my kitchen window)

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For the love of a Dog

For anyone who is a pet owner/lover, there are many things that you would do for your pet. But what happens when something needs tobe done but you don’t know what it is? There are many people; I can be counted as one of them that says many times, “Wow, wouldn’t it be nice to live a dog‘s life.” That is kind of like saying something about the grass being greener on the other side of the fence.

What we fail to think about sometimes are the downfalls to the dog’s life. We don’t realize the hard work, maybe chemicals that have gone into that greener lawn.

I have wondered about those things this week as I sit and watch my eldest dog suffering. Is he suffering? I don’t really know because he cannot tell me. Does he hurt, is he sad, does he know we love him? All of these questions run through my head as I watch him. If I were a guessing woman I would say, no he does not hurt, but it is irritating; he is sad and he knows we love him.

The frustrating thing is the vet says he has never seen anything like it before. Last Sunday, my daughter says to me, “Mom, I think Copper is bleeding.” I looked at his face and there was a brown spot on the side of his mouth. I took an old towel and gently wiped the area and saw the towel turn red. Yep, he had been bleeding. As I was cleaning, the area seemed hard so i wasn’t quite sure what to do so I did not look inside his mouth. I just thought that he got snagged on something which caused the bleeding.

A little background: Copper is 9 1/2 years old. He is a Lakeland Terrier, a smaller version of an Airedale Terrier. He is from Virginia and not a well-known breed in this area. He is an indoor/outdoor dog and is spoiled rotten. He does not run around loose and is very protective of his home.

He did nip a boy’s finger once when this boy was teasing Copper and the boy stuck his finger through our chain link fence. I don’t know if Copper really bit the boy intentionally or if Copper was barking at him and happened to close his mouth in a bark with the boy’s finger close. May it be noted that this boy constantly poked at Copper with sticks through the fence and would yell at him. Like I wrote, Copper was very protective of his home. Copper seems to know when the “bad boys” are walking near our fence because he will bark; he does not bark at good kids!

I haven’t heard Copper bark for days. He just does not have the energy. By Monday, he seemed ok and we decided to lay low on calling the vet. If he had injured himself, it would heal. That all changed on Tuesday.

Tuesday morning, I noticed blood coming out of Coppers right nostril, the same side where there was the blood spot near his mouth. It was time to go to the vet. The vet looked at Copper and had this concerned look. He looked up his nose and then looked into his mouth. The concern on his face grew. He said that he had never seen anything like this in a dog and asked if there was a chance that Copper chewed on electrical cord. I told him, “Absolutely not!”

Apparently, I should have looked inside his mouth; I should have been more diligent in my looking him over. The vet said that his mouth looked all cut up and bleeding. He asked if he could have gotten into rat poison; another answer of NO. A swab of his mouth and nose were taken; we received and antibiotic to treat for a viral infection, just in case and were sent on our way. I asked if I should be feeding him soft dog food and was told yes. Oh and I was told to isolate him from our 3-year-old Lakeland, Tinkerbelle.

Got home to a phone call from the vet telling is that he had contacted the lab 60 miles away and was told they needed blood work from Copper. The nurse first told us to come in at 2:00, Wednesday and then corrected herself and told us to come by at 5:30. I guess they realized they did not to expose any of their other patients if Copper was contagious.

I woke up Wednesday morning to see that his other nostril had started bleeding and I immediately called the vet. I was beside myself. I had no idea what was wrong with him and there was nothing I could do to help. He went back to the vet and tests sent out.

As of Friday here is what we know: he is not in renal failure, a couple of tests done in Nebraska are leaning towards possible rat poison based on certain levels in his blood. Because of that, he was given a Vitamin K shot and Vitamin K pills. Plus it seemed that his bleeding was lessening.

By Saturday and continuing into today, the bleeding is back, he is lethargic and to get him to eat, I have to hold his bowl in such a way that he does not have to bend his head. While Friday his tail was wagging, that all stopped on Saturday.

I know that you do not need these details. I know that Copper means nothing to you. But he means the world to me and I know that there are many out there that have an ill pet or a pet that they have lost. It means something to you to remember that loved pet.

I hope by Monday that we have more answers and that we can work on a cure. Or if there is no cure, at least we will have some answers.

I think of Tinkerbelle who has no idea what is going on. She just knows that her buddy is not around to pester her, or she him.She might be worried if she is going to disappear. She wants much more loving than usual.

No matter how much we want to believe that a dog is just a dog or a cat is just a cat, when it comes down to it, I would do anything for my dog; I have bathed his bloody front legs that he uses to wipe his nose. I make burger and rice for him because he quit eating the soft dog food that we bought for him to ease the irritation in his mouth. I cleaned his bottom because his intestines didn’t like switching from hard to soft food (another reason for adding rice to his diet). I have cried more tears than I thought possible. And through all this, Copper still looks at me with love, even through those sad eyes, I can see the love.

I pray that there is a cure and I pray that he can get back to the same old Copper that we all know and love. But more than anything, I want him to not be in pain. Maybe the answer will come soon, for that I pray.

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I am Ready for a Storm

There has been a lot of coverage of Hurricane Sandy, and rightfully so. This was a devastating storm for the East Coast. It appears that things are being taken care of and citizens are trying to get back to a life of normalcy. That will take a long time, years in fact but just trying to find some kind of routine is important.

The Today Show, this morning, made me laugh and made me re-think my blogging for the day. Matt Lauer announced that they were going to discuss the things you need in your pantry to be ready for the next storm. The reason I laughed is because my friends know that if there is a storm, they want to be at my home because I have enough food in my pantry to feed an army.

It all began years ago when my husband worked at Lozier Corp. Lozier is a manufacturer of store shelving. If you walk into Walgreens, Auto Zone, Kroger’s/Baker’s, Target or Toys R Us, those are Lozier shelves. Once a year, Lozier would hold a sale for employees. They would sell obsolete, scratch n dent items. My husband over the years purchased many shelving components. Thus, we had sturdy shelving that could hold our “stuff”.

I purchase things on sale and things that my family likes. I always want to make sure that I have enough to feed my family and “drop-ins”, if that happens. Sometimes, in a flight of fancy, I go overboard on purchasing. Thankfully, it is always something that we would eat. I do want to be prepared if I feel like making Thai food or throwing together a Nacho Night.

Now on to the photos and then the explanation.

 

In the first photo, those are the Lozier shelves filled with purchased and homemade goods. There are a lot of soups, vegetables, starches, beans and condiments that were purchased. For the things that I made from the garden, there is salsa, pickled hot peppers, canned meat, and numerous jams and jellies. I also have plenty of sugar and flour for baking.

In moving to the freezer, there are also purchased items, homemade items and game. Yes, I have a family of hunters. I did not grow up in a hunting family but after years of being worried about eating game, I have come to really like food that is provided by my family. I still do not hunt but everyone else does. Everything that is hunted is eaten. I do not condone hunting for the kill. That is wrong, in my opinion. And for those of you who think game meat has a “gamey” taste, for some reason, the venison we eat does not taste gamey. Many cannot tell the difference between our venison and beef. (OK, I will now step down from my soapbox!) The homemade or home-grown items would include soups and vegetables from the garden. There are times that I have make-a-head meals in the freezer but in this photo.

The third photo is the new addition to our family, a wine room. This was my gift to my husband for his birthday. My father constructed it and did a great job. Not only is there wine in the room but as it is temperature controlled, I also have potatoes from our garden stored there. (Maybe some day I will learn how to make vodka). The other thing stored in there are my coffee flavorings. Why a wine room? We like wine and want a variety. It is much cheaper to buy wine in bulk so before the wine room we had cases of wine, wine stored under shelving, wine here, wine there. It was everywhere. This was we know exactly what wine we have on hand.

So you can see why I would laugh about being prepared for a storm. Our home is gas so if we lose electricity, we can start our stove burners with a match. If that is a problem we can use our outdoor grill to cook. Camping is also something that we do so we have a camp stove and a Dutch Oven that we could use. We have a gas fireplace so we can keep warm. We have plenty of food (and drink). We keep plenty of batteries around and we have chargers that can be plugged into cigarette lighters. I would say we are set.

While I did not watch the segment on being prepared for a storm, I can enlighten you on how to be prepared. Here are just a few pointers:

1) Have non-perishable food on hand and make sure you have a hand can opener. If all you have is electric, you are sunk.

2) Have water available. If you know a storm is coming and you can prepare, fill a bathtub with water or use the water from your water heater (make sure to turn off the flame).

3) Make sure you have batteries. Make sure those things that need to be charged, have a full charge.

4) If you do lose electricity, open your refrigerator and freezer sparingly.

5) If you have young children, keep them occupied with games and books. Be strong for them.

6) If you have a land line, make sure one of your phones is corded/doesn’t use electricity. A portable phone will not work when there is no electricity. (Ours is in the laundry room)

AND FINALLY,

6) Don’t panic. Listen to the officials about what to do and DO WHAT THEY SAY!

 

I hope that we never had to take advantage of our ability to be fed and stay safe but I know that we are as prepared as we can be. I know, that without even trying on purpose, I am ready for a storm.

Bless those people who are dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy!

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I am a Foodie/Am I a Foodie?

I am a foodie. Or am I? Food evokes wonderful memories for me. Everything about food fascinates me. I relish in learning how foods are prepared, the background/history of a recipe and the experience of a new taste. I also am a food snob sometimes. I hate it when a person tries to place their recipe or restaurant in a category that just doesn’t fit. But….they think that some are not well-educated and they think they can get away with their deceit (that explanation later).

I am in no way a gourmet but I do appreciate the finer foods of life. When I have people over for dinner, I try to make a meal that will be memorable for them. I do try to stay away from traditional Midwest cooking, the standard rump roast with potatoes and carrots or chicken and noodles over mashed potatoes. While those are foods I will make for my family, I try to be more creative with guests.

This propensity may come from my upbringing. My grandmother and mother were/are great cooks. New recipes were always just a meal away. When my grandmother died, I was chosen to be in charge of all of her cookbooks. I now have hundreds of cookbooks in my home just waiting for me to peruse. I am to look through them to make sure there are no side bar notes in recipes or loose leaf recipes in the pages. My problem is I want to look at every recipe and see which ones I want to keep.

Family dinners were always something to which I looked forward.  In my family, there were certain foods that were only made during certain holidays. We only get creamed pearl onions on Thanksgiving. Same for mashed sweet potatoes with pineapple. A full turkey was only roasted at Thanksgiving and “real” ham (bone in smoked) was only done at Christmas. Pumpkin pie…only at Thanksgiving.

When I became an adult and was married, my husband and I began our own food traditions. Some from my childhood were gone away. Others were created. For instance, we usually purchase more than one turkey at Thanksgiving so we have one in the freezer for a later roast (or smoke), likewise with ham. No one time a year, for us. Same goes for pumpkin pie, we have it when we want. There are just some foods that are too good to have only once a year. If my family like creamed onions, I would make them. As it is, I have made them only once in the eleven years that we have celebrated Thanksgiving in our home. My husband likes sweet potatoes whole with brown sugar and butter only. No fancy, mashed with pineapple, sweet potato for him. That is fine. While I do like what I grew up eating, I am also fine with undoctored sweet potatoes.

When we were first married, we split our fall/winter holidays. If we spent Thanksgiving with one side of family, we spent Christmas with the other. Our small family started celebrating Thanksgiving with just us when we lived in Spain. We liked the time together and found that, after moving home, we missed not having that intimate time to celebrate in our own home. While we have never limited the number of guests in our home at Thanksgiving, we do not go to someone else’s home. There are some years when there are just four of us. Other years may find 8-10 celebrating.

Now I get back to my food snob designation. We lived in Spain just under a year. But in that time, our life was greatly impacted and changed forever. I cannot speak for my other family members, but I found that I am truly a Spaniard at heart. When I am here, I long to live in Spain. When I am in Spain, I do not long to be back here. I often tell my husband that if he dies before me, I will move to Spain.

We immersed ourselves in the Spanish life. Our children went to a local, private school, not an American school. We lived in a Spanish community, learned the language, ate the native food, ate fast food only rarely and learned as much as we could about the history of Spain while we lived there. For all intense purposes, I became Spanish. I actually have a hard time saying Spanish, because we lived in Catalunya where the language is Catalan and it is rather different from most of Spain. (for those of you who do not know, Barcelona is in Catalunya. We lived about 26 km up the coast from Barcelona)

When we moved home, we looked for Spanish wine, Spanish food, anything Spanish and it was not to be found. As the years passed from our life there, Spanish things began to show up in our area. We were so excited when a Spanish restaurant opened in Omaha. We went there one night and found out that the owner had an uncle that owned a restaurant in Catalunya. In fact, my husband would eat there every week on the day they served paella. We had a wonderful time. It was so good that when friends, who lived an hour away from Omaha, came to visit, we made reservations.

We made early reservations so they could get home to their young children at a decent hour. About an hour before we were to arrive at the restaurant, someone calls and says that we had reservations but that we would have to give up our table after an hour! That is unheard of in Spain! Once you are at a table, for the most part, it is yours. In Spain, an evening meal will last up to 4 hours and we had less than an hour to eat (taking into consideration the time to prep the food). I explained to the person that was not the Spanish way and how could they expect us to enjoy a traditional Spanish meal in an hour. They said they didn’t care and we would have to relinquish our table after an hour. I got know where with the manager either, so needless to say, we did not honor that reservation and never went back with that owner. We went back under new ownership and the food was just not that good so now we have never been back.

Years after that fiasco, a lounge opened that touted that they served tapas. My anticipation for a true tapas bar was dashed when I went online and looked at their menu. Now if you say tapas, you should think Spanish, just like when you see an Italian restaurant, you would think pasta. Not the case, this “tapas” bar had french fries, nachos, chicken wings on their tapas menu. Those are not tapas, those are appetizers. As someone who lived in Spain, I can tell you that I never went to a tapas bar that had nachos or chicken wings on their menu. Their menu would have pan con tomate (bread with tomato), aceitunas (olives) almendras (almonds), numerous types of fish/seafood but not nachos! I really was concerned that people in the area would actually think that what they were getting was tapas. Their definition of tapas did not give a proper representation of the true experience. I frankly, was offended.

That is how I knew that I had become a food snob. I believe that if you say that you represent a certain ethnic food, you should be loyal to that country. If you are Mexican, serve Mexican, not Tex-Mex. If you serve Tex-Mex, say so. You can have other items on the menu to appeal to the masses, but don’t say you are one thing and then not have it on the menu.

Maybe that is one reason why I have so many cookbooks because I want to be an informed cook. I would not say that I am a purest because there are many times that I make a modified ethnic food. My daughter says she loves my refrigerator Chinese. That is where I open the refrigerator and see what I have that is fresh and then stir fry it with rice, definitely not authentic Chinese. But I do not represent it as anything other than what it is, using what I have in the frig before it goes bad.

I think I have gotten myself into a food blog mindset so keep checking back for other thoughts on food or foods of thought. I already have streaming in my head thoughts of food from Spain, my “mini’s” theme on a Progressive Dinner in which I had the first course, cookies and oh the list could go on….

Latte’ for the day has no name. I combined some end of the bottle flavorings and ended up with chocolate, white chocolate, toasted marshmallow and coconut. Pretty tasty!

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It Takes a Little Kneading

 

 

There are many things that I do for my family, friends and people who I do not even know. One thing that I enjoy doing for others is cooking/baking. While I like the process of taking not very good tasting ingredients by themselves (have you ever tasted plain flour or vegetable shortening, YUCK!) and making them into something that tastes divine, my joy is in the act of giving. I feel that this is one thing that I do well; people can enjoy this gift and it can nourish them both physically and emotionally. Is there a favorite food that you had growing up that when you have it now it takes you back years?

When my family smells those warm, sweet fragrances wafting from the oven, their first question is, “Is this for us, or is it for someone else?” I have to admit that more than 50% of the time, it is for someone else. I do feel guilty and there have been times when I make twice as much so they can enjoy some for themselves.

There is one smell that drifts out the kitchen and throughout our home that everyone knows is for no one else but them, bread. When that light, fresh smell melds in with the other familial scents in our home, they know it is for them and only them.

I have now gotten to the point that I make fresh bread every four or five days. It is the most basic of recipes, milk, bread four, salt, pepper, butter and yeast. How can you go wrong with that? What I have started doing is using the white spongy dough as my canvas. An artist would never leave a canvas blank. It is filled with life, their joys, and sorrows, or poured out on that blank slate. I would not say that I have gone that far, no sorrow in my bread making but I have used a lot of love and joy in this new venture.

Sometimes my bread has a theme. One loaf I named “Four Shades of Red.” (Had a hard time visualizing gray bread!) Then there are breads that are themed based on the week. There was a loaf in honor of the beginning of fall. Then there was the purple and white loaf in recognition of the high school‘s homecoming. My last loaf was orange, white and black in anticipation of Halloween. I did make a completely orange loaf of bread. The family was not very fond of that. They definitely prefer multi-colored bread.

You would think that I would have thought of this when my children were younger. How fun it would have been for them to pick out their colors for their special loaf of bread. But NOOOOO, I had to wait until they were in high school. They have a lot of fun with it though and sometimes they will ask me why I chose the colors I did. It should be noted that my children take a sack lunch to school. With the new government guidelines on school food, they say that the meals are bland and not filling. They relish the thought of taking their own food, chosen for their likes, to school. This also means that all of their friends, classmates and teachers see their artistry bread. (Notice I did not say artisan.) Teachers have walked up to them and asked, “What is wrong with your bread?” My son commented back when asked that question, “My mom is just bored.”

The funny thing is that I am far from bored. It takes a lot of extra time to knead in those colorings. I don’t use gloves so I can go a couple of days with colored hands. While to save time I do use a machine for kneading the bread, I do the last kneading and forming by hand and then bake it in the oven. This does take time out of my already busy schedule. But they are more than worth it.

I do this out of love. If my family didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t continue. They know that I do this especially for them. If they did not know that or appreciate it, I would still bake bread but it would probably be plain ol’ white bread. I would find something that they did appreciate. I would find a gift that would make them feel special. I have thought about marketing my artist bread but realized it would no longer be special for them.

Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming up. You can bet there will be more brown, gold and orange bread and green and red bread. I will probably even make blue and white bread as a recognition for Hanukkah. I may have high schoolers for children but I am still that mom who wants to make her family feel special. While I may bake a lot for others, I have found this one thing that is exclusively for them.

What do you do that is exclusively for your loved ones?  Do you have traditions that are a treasure for you? Let’s talk about that. I will share in my next post family traditions from when I was growing up to traditions that have been created for my family. Think hard and I look forward to sharing.

Believe it or not I have only made coffee twice this week. That is why there have been no coffee posts. It is mid afternoon so my first cup of coffee for the day, may have to contain some Irish Creme. I’ll let you know.

Bread ingredients:   4 C. bread flour, 13 oz. warm milk, 2 T butter, 2.5 T sugar, 1.5 t. salt and 2.25 t. active dry yeast.

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Humbled by Life

We all live busy lives. We all have stress. My stress maybe less (or more) than yours. But it is my stress, no more (or less) significant than yours. Years ago I had someone try to tell me that my stress wa nothing compared to theirs. I looked at this person and said, “Don’t tell me that my stress is nothing. Your stress is nothing compared to a CEO of a company and I don’t disregard your stress!” I think that we need to keep that in mind when we deal with people when we think that we have a harder life, or a more stressful life. What I do know is that I am extremely blessed.

I para subbed for the first time this week. It was for a special education classroom. I had sub taught before and thought, “I know this. I had done it before.” In fact, I have sub taught for special ed in the elementary level, the middle school level and the high school level. It was just a para job; I got this! WOW was I wrong. I mean I did my job and I felt I was of benefit to the classroom. This was not a class like I had subbed before. My previous subbing jobs in a SpEd classroom was as a resource class. Students are integrated into a class and then attend their resource class when English or Math is going on and they come to the SpEd class for help. That was my previous experience. This class was a contained Special Education classroom. These children were in the same class all day (except for P.E., Music or Art). These are children that cannot be in a traditional classroom because of developmental issues. These children are a handful.

There were 7 students in the class, 1 teacher and 3 paras. I should have known by that ratio that this was not going to be an easy day. I was assigned Mike (not his real name). It was my job to keep him on track. He is known for wandering both physically and mentally. There was a lot of hand holding and saying, “Look at me. Let’s get back to work. No we can’t be over there right now…”

The day begins with checking in on the Smart Board. They mark what they want for lunch on the SB and then go do some physical activity. Now let me tell you that the Smart Board always bites me in the hiney when I sub. I am a PC girl so I freeze up and worry that I am going to do something wrong with the classroom electronics. And here we have children that can’t even be in a traditional classroom but can work a Smart board better than me.

Next the students stand and say the Pledge of Allegiance. Not only do they say it but they sing it. When I heard those students singing at the top of their lungs the song of our country, it brought tears to my eyes. Even now it is very touching to think about.

After the Pledge, they go right to work. All 7 of these children know the routine. Even though they may lose track of what they are doing at any given time, they know where they are to be and know what they are to be doing. The next step is to go over the calendar and the weather outside. This is all done on the Smart Board and they ALL know what to do. I am considered an intelligent person and these Special Ed kids (I think kindergarten age. I was never told and it really did not make a difference) know electronics better than I. I was humbled on that day.

It might be noted, that all of these children are being taught sign language and the teacher often communicates using her voice and her hands. The purpose fo this I am not quite sure and frankly, there was not time for personal chit-chat. Throughout the day I was amazed at the capability of these children and also the lack there of.

I did have a chance to work with all of the children when they went through their stations for the core subjects of math and reading. The reading station was individualized for each student. Their skill level ranged from computerized reading to sign language letter recognition. Except for Mike who exited out of the computer program and opened all kinds of windows, the students stayed on task . One child, who I assume is autistic, would zone out, for lack of a better description, and it was difficult to ge them back on task, but I did with help from another para.

Math went well. My job was to have students look at the size of paper sea shells and estimate how many of these sea shells it would take to measure the sink. My first group guessed spot on. It was a very basic task but it was part of visualization and estimating for math. One boy was very disengaged. He has a habit of just lying down and becoming a wet noodle. Picking him up and trying to get him to stay standing was very difficult. I did get help from another para when this happened. I do not think he was picking on me. Obviously he had done this in the past but I felt very helpless.

After lunch the class had recess and they played on the playground, kicked balls and played chase with all of the other classes. I thought that they would not interact with the other students as they are in the contained classroom and don’t interact with other students during the day. But it was just like a 2nd grade classroom. They play with their classmates but it extends out to other classes.

The day ended and I looked at the paras and said that they must be exhausted by the end of the day. I would not say that I was exhausted mentally or physically but it was one day for me. They do this five days a week and I have to imagine that it can be trying.

My thoughts went to the families of these children. The challenges that are faced in the classroom are faced exponentially at home. The teachers are there for the students 100%. Parents and siblings have other things going on at home. There is house cleaning, cooking, paying bills, coming home from full-time jobs, spending time with a spouse and other children, homework or outside activities. I wonder how it can all get done. And for these families, it is 7 days a week.

I may have stress but I am sure that it seems nothing to the families with children that have different abilities. My children are independent. They are teenagers and really don’t need me anymore. They cook, do their own laundry, drive. I still guide them and do for them, but they are able to do almost everything themselves. That may never be the case for some families. I am sure that there are many blessings in these families. These children are blessings and have many lessons to teach the world. I learned a lot in that classroom. These students taught me a lot.

We all have stress. Mine may not seem as important as yours but I know after subbing in this contained Special Needs classroom that, right now, my stress is insignificant. I am truly blessed. Are you?