Yesterday, Terry and I celebrated the first anniversary of our adoption of Lexy. She got a special dinner and an ice cream treat.
I also took her on a short walk down Fawn Valley just as the sun was setting. She did very well and has improved immensely over the last twelve months in her obedience training and leash etiquette.
Lexy is calmer, more playful and very loving towards Terry and I. Apollo tolerates her and attempts to play tug-of-war with her occasionally, but she’d rather snag a toy and whip it around like a rag doll by herself while running full tilt around the great room.
While Terry was in the hospital last week, I had a Dickens of a time getting Lexy to go outside. I resorted to a dirty trick, knowing that you can get a Rottweiler to do just about anything if you cater to their stomach. I started feeding her and Apollo outside. That way, I lured her out there with her food dish and could leave both of them outside for thirty minutes while I got myself ready for work in the morning or to transition to the hospital in the evenings. I’d always find her standing impatiently at the back patio door, waiting for me to let her back inside.
Our weekend weather forecast called for sporadic thunderstorms, so I opted not to work in the yard yesterday. Terry and I did make it out of the house in the morning, visiting the local farmer’s market and our favorite grocery store. After we woke up from our lunch food coma, I got the notion in my head to relocate the plasma from the old bowed coffee table where it had languished for over five years.
Several months ago (yes, months), Terry had ordered a wall mount for the television. He was prompted to pursue this avenue because when Lexy joined our family, she glued herself (and her nose) to the front of the plasma. She’s the only pet we’ve ever had who actually watches television (myopically, like Mr. Magoo). Keeping a clear view through the dog slobber became a daily household chore.
Thus began an afternoon of rearranging furniture, cables, heavy objects and lots and lots of dust. Our new vacuum cleaner saved the day more than once. Eventually, we found the wall behind the coffee table and plasma.
Lexy sniffing around in search of her lost plasma.Ah, she found it.
Next, Terry and I had to find the framing studs behind our tongue-and-grove paneling in the great room. We could see one of them through the large return air vent. Assuming, correctly we hoped, that the builder followed code and the studs were installed every sixteen inches, we got out our measuring tapes, levels and pencils and dredged up our elementary math skills to hunt them down.
Drilling for studs
After finding three studs and drilling six holes, Terry and I positioned the wall mount, properly aligned and leveled. I held it in place while he drilled the six lag bolts (and washers) into place. This mount, properly installed, should be able to hold almost two hundred pounds. Our current plasma weighs in between one hundred and one twenty pounds.
Securely fastened to the east wall of the great room.
Terry was concerned that I would not be able to lift 50-60 pounds from the floor to shoulder height. I wanted to argue with him, but I also didn’t want to drop a three thousand dollar television either. Per Terry’s suggestion, I returned the coffee table to the middle of the room and we lifted the plasma from the floor back on to the table. His reasoning was it was less distance (bending over) from the coffee table to the wall mount.
Staging the lift
Six years ago this situation would have been a non-issue. Derek at one time set a school record for bench press. Had he still been living with us, he probably could have lifted the plasma by himself from the floor to the wall mount and not broken a sweat. As it was, both Terry and I may have strained our lower backs getting the plasma from the floor back onto the coffee table. I succumbed and gave my dad a call to see if he could spare a few minutes to help us wrestle the thing up to the mount.
Dad arrived just before the thunderstorm did. Our power had blipped once already. Lexy made a bee-line for the upstairs main bathroom, her ‘safe place’ when the thunder starts rolling. I urged Apollo to take a nap up in our bedroom so that the great room would be Rottweiler-free during our lift.
While Dad and Terry lifted the plasma, I held the old base down so it would slip easily away from the device. Then I moved quickly around the coffee table and took the center of the plasma to steady it and so that Dad and Terry could make sure the hooks on the back of the plasma found the bar on the wall mount. They also needed to secure the safety latches. Once mounted and adjusted, I re-installed the HDMI cable from the home theater system to the back of the plasma and struggled with the power cord for a few minutes. Then I pushed our ancient rolling entertainment cabinet back against the wall and crossed my fingers, turning on the home theatre system first, then the satellite DVR and finally the plasma. I heard audio first and then the plasma warmed up and we had a picture.
Thank you Terry and Dad!
Things left to do:
New shelf for the center speaker.
Donate coffee table to Goodwill.
Donate entertainment cabinet to local dump
Purchase new furniture to house the electronics under the plasma
The first thing Terry and I noticed was that the plasma actually appeared smaller now. Sigh. Maybe it really is time to move up from fifty inches.
Bonus points to anyone who can guess what movie we found to test the new setup with? Hint: It’s one of my all-time favorites from the late 80s, but we only caught the last fifteen minutes of it.
Great big thanks to the two ‘Dads’ in my life a day early but never too late:
Terry (father of my children)
and
Dan (my dad for nearly fifty years now).
Exactly two dozen years ago, my daughter came quietly into this world. My maternal grandmother had come to visit us for a couple of weeks. She was going to watch Derek when Terry and I had to go to the hospital. I remember waking up in the middle of the night but I can’t remember why we decided to go to the hospital. My water did not break, like it did when I went into labor for Derek in 1986. I probably called the doctor and they must have told us to head in to town to the hospital.
I remember seeing the moon as we drove in. For the longest time, I thought it was a full moon. But I went and checked a star chart app at Astronomy.com and discovered it was waxing and actually set at 1:30 a.m. that night. So I’ve confirmed I did see a moon while we drove to the hospital, just not a full one as I had misremembered. When I arrived at the hospital, the birthing wing was quiet, but it wouldn’t stay that way long. I was the first of many women who would arrive over the next few hours. By the time the sun rose, the birthing wing was overflowing with laboring pregnant women.
Rachelle was born a few minutes past sunrise on that Monday. She weighed six pounds twelve ounces (easy to remember since she was born in the sixth month on the twelfth day at 6:24 a.m.).I had not decided upon a name for her until I saw her. Then the name ‘Rachel’ popped into my head. But I didn’t want her to be a run-of-the-mill ‘Rachel’ (and let me assure you she never has been) so I mashed it up with a version of my middle name and the name of a cousin of my favorite Aunt Melody. Her name was ‘Rochelle.’ So, I spelled my daughter’s name ‘Rachelle’ but I pronounced it just like you would ‘Rachel.’ This caused all of us headaches when I enrolled her in day care and later in public school. I just shrug. My daughter had it a lot easier than I did, growing up a girl named Jon (pronounced just like ‘John’).
I miss her so much nowadays. She’s so far away. I console myself with her self-portrait and the day lilies that bloom each year on her birthday:
This past Thursday May 9th, Terry and I celebrated the anniversary of our adoption of Apollo seven years ago. Since we rescued him we don’t know his exact birthday. Our family vet estimated that he was a year or year and a half old when we rescued him.
So we will give Apollo the benefit of the doubt and round down to eight, which is probably over 50 in human years. Welcome to your midlife crisis Apollo. You’re over the hill now and it’s smooth sailing from now on.
This morning I took a half dozen pictures of Apollo as the lounge on the couch. I tried to take a couple more outside but there was too much difference between the shadow of the house and the bright morning sunlight on the grass behind him. I upload them to my Flickr feed but I uploaded one separately here to this blog for your enjoyment.
One year ago today, Terry and I laid to rest Roxy, our beloved yet ditzy female Rottweiler. I find it imminently appropriate that today is also the dark of the moon. When I walk out to the van this morning, I will quickly and easily be able to find Sirius, the Dog Star, the brightest star in the heavens, a fitting reminder of the brightest memories I have of Roxy.
Tomorrow, I celebrate the 27th anniversary of my journey into motherhood. And the little bundle of joy I brought kicking and screaming into the world twenty-seven years ago, arrived safely, after a long drive north from Texas, to visit us just before 3:00 a.m. earlier this morning. In a strange juxtaposition of events, tomorrow also happens to be the last day of the Year of the Dragon. Even stranger, Derek was born on the very first day of the Year of the Tiger in 1986. Sunday begins the Year of the Snake, the second for my daughter, since as she turns twenty-four in June.
My feelings about this past year are mixed and bittersweet. Part of me grieves with the passing of my fourth Dragon year and part of me is disappointed with where I am, what I’ve accomplished (or failed to accomplish), where I’m going and what, if anything, there is to look forward to by the time the next Dragon year rolls around. Right at this very moment, I’m not even sure I can muster any enthusiasm about it’s arrival or whether I’ll make it another twelve years to enjoy it (or not). Gloomy, I know. Perhaps it’s a by-product of two consecutive days of insomnia.
Derek at the USGP (Nov 2012)
But enough of my maudlin thoughts. I came here today to write a short blog post celebrating my son’s birthday. I haven’t seen him since last November, when all of us (my husband, my son and his wife, my daughter and her boyfriend and myself) traveled to Austin, Texas for the return of Formula 1 to the United States. Derek opted to support Kimi and the Lotus team (see photo at left) in direct contradiction to his father’s preferred team, Ferrari. I was clearly the underdog, since I cheered for Michael Schumacher. Today, though, I am very excited to have both Derek and his wife, Royna, visiting us. All I have to do is survive a gauntlet of meetings at work today followed by the commute home. Then I’ll be able to spend quality time with both of them. I even ordered his favorite type of birthday cake earlier this week. I’ll pick it up from the local Dairy Queen tomorrow morning.
My biggest adjustment to ’empty nest’ life has been a less hectic schedule for the last four years. During the last Year of the Dragon (circa 2000), we traveled all around the country, taking Derek to compete at regional and national judo tournaments. That schedule only increased through high school with the addition of wrestling, soccer and lacrosse. My Saturdays are decidedly quieter, as compared to a school gymnasium crammed to the rafters with screaming parents and ten or twelve wrestling mats. And warmer, compared to all-day tournaments in the early spring for soccer or lacrosse.
I do miss the excitement, though. Watching him compete. Or even listening to him sing at a choir concert. The quiet life sometimes has its drawbacks.
Royna and Derek (Nov 2012)
At least I have him, and his wife, for the weekend. I take what I can get when it comes to visits from my kids.
Just after Epiphany, Terry received a large box from our daughter containing two gifts. The largest one, shown at right, displays all three tickets and several cutouts from the program, memorializing our trip to the United States Grand Prix last November. Terry displayed it promptly and prominently in our great room.
Great big thanks to Nic and Rachelle for such a thoughtful gift and keepsake.
Oh, and the second gift? For her BFF, who still hasn’t stopped by to retrieve it.
Yesterday, Terry and I celebrated the first anniversary of our adoption of Lexy. She got a special dinner and an ice cream treat.
While Terry was in the hospital last week, I had a Dickens of a time getting Lexy to go outside. I resorted to a dirty trick, knowing that you can get a Rottweiler to do just about anything if you cater to their stomach. I started feeding her and Apollo outside. That way, I lured her out there with her food dish and could leave both of them outside for thirty minutes while I got myself ready for work in the morning or to transition to the hospital in the evenings. I’d always find her standing impatiently at the back patio door, waiting for me to let her back inside.
