I didn't order that...

Realizing my soy yogurt cup was not going to get me through the last half of my day I oped to get a sandwich for lunch.  Budget in mind, I ventured over to the near by Subway, which had never been at the top of my Subway list.  While standing in line with my fellow lunch minions as instructed I yelled my sandwich order over the guy in front of me.  The sandwich maker and I went back and forth attempting to clarify that yes, I did indeed want the bacon on my turkey, BACON and avocado sandwich.  The 4th "yes" apparently made it semi clear.  My sandwich steadily made its way down the line as did I, scooching closer and closer to the veggies.  That's when it happened.

One of the sandwich makers stepped away from her position and started walking toward the back room.  About 2 feet from the open doorway she slowed, tilted her head down ever so slightly and... sneezed.  No elbow, no hand, no nothing.  To make matters worse her sneeze took place right next to the bread case with its double glass doors wide open.  Her sandwich buddy still at the counter turned to her and made a comment to which they both chuckled.  Ah yes, I too find sneezing in the open while in the process of food service entertaining.

The second thought, post initial disgust, that went through my head was, "well I already have my bread, and my sandwich was protected by the body of a sandwich maker..", and then it got worse.  Sneezy actually returned to her sandwich spot.  No change of gloves, no washing of the hands, nothing, again, nothing!  That was the final straw. Right as my hard fought for excuse for bacon came out of the microwave I had to tell the pal of sneezey that I no longer wanted my sandwich.  And with that, like a liberated lemming I squeezed past the the penguinesque man blocking the line exit and broke out of Sneezeway.  How gross!  Have some standards people!

Subway at Central and Thomas, you are officially off my list of eating venues.  Can't even say it was nice while it lasted.

Kitty Contemplations

Please remind me why you thought it was an appropriate decision to move to the desert...

Mr. Roboto

Thanks to the Animal Welfare League of Arizona's low cost microchipping Mr. Jackson is now the proud owner of an implanted microchip.  I don't even want to consider the thought of losing the little guy, but should something happen, at least now he has a little technology on his side.  Any vet or shleter with the technology anywhere in the country can now scan him and find out where he belongs.

Jackson weighted in at 15.1 lbs and was complemented as having a lovely, healthy coat. The vet went on to say that often he sees dogs in the Phoenix/desert area with dried out, dusty coats, but not this little guy, healthy and as shiny as could be.  Jackson was a little nervous, but nothing over the top.  Never nipped, growled or snarled the entire time.  The vet tech held him while the vet gently gabbed him with a large needle used to inject the chip.  I was impressed with the vet and that Jackson never flinched despite being poked with a needle intended to inject a micro chip. (akin to a needle with an opening large enough to expel a tic-tac)  After the injection was complete the all to sweet vet tech turned him so that he was a good couple of inches from her face, and told him what a good boy he was.  The subtle lip curl and, bared tooth that ensued was a near perfect "f-u" to the whole situation. All who witnessed shared an empathetic chuckle at his simple display of displeasure at her post-injection comment.

Once home Jackson supervised while I primed a room, and shared a nice little nap with Sydney and I.  He has shown no signs of discomfort (not that any were expected), and was his usual mutely self for the remainder of the day. 

Questionable Marketing

Should "Clean Rooms" really be a marketing asset for hotels?   Given too much thought, "Clean Rooms" makes me wonder about what kind of improvement they've made that encourages the use of sanitation standards as a unique quality.  At this point, I'd almost prefer to stay somewhere that wasn't telling me they had clean rooms. 

Break from the Valley

With Jackson loaded in the car, and our bikes strapped to the Mini we headed north for Flagstaff among a minor windstorm.  Is there really a better time to be driving a small car with large, light weight items attached to the back? 

 

I've been told, when it comes to cycling, its not if you're going to get a flat in Arizona, its when you're going to get a flat.  Jonathan's pierced tire "when" just so happened to be a hilly 14 miles away from our car.  Thanks to the advice of a friendly fellow cyclist, and some ingenuity with a piece of hammer gel wrapper we were able to get back on the road and finish our 31 ride in record time. (A piece of the gel wrapper was placed on the inside of the tire wall, held in place by a freshly inflated tube.  This piece helped protect the semi-vulnerable new tube... or so my understanding goes.) 

 

Post ride/shower and pup pick up, we headed into town for what I was expecting to be a relatively easy breakfast/shopping trip.  Not so much.  Turns out the Flagstaff dinning scene, outdoor areas included, really isn't as dog friendly as anticipated.  After being turned away from two places, and with blood sugar at ragetasticly low levels we opted for lunch at The Black Bean, a tasty burrito shop.  Had we not had Mr. Jackson I would have much preferred breakfast, but since it was now starting to rain and the Black Bean offered not only food, but a place for Mr. J-bone and an umbrella, we took turns ordering our food while the other stood under an umbrella with Jackson.  With my umbrella safely packed back at the house I came to realize what a curiously strong aversion I have to getting wet.  A strange thing considering my 14+ years of competitive swimming, but the reality is, I don't even like stepping out of the shower without being completely drip free.

 

Sporadic showers, made for a bit of a rough down town experience, but we were quite happy with Jackson's behavior amid showers and a wide variety of adults, children, pets and the constant stranger pettings.  We dropped Jackson back at the house for a little R&R and headed out to the Museum of Northern Arizona to see an exhibit by Ed Mell - Paintings of the New West.  It was awesome.  He is a local Phoenician and does spectacular work.  Had we more money it would be something we would invest in, but since we prefer to enjoy daily meals for the rest of the year we will not be investing in any of his paintings in the near future.  Check his stuff out: http://www.medicinemangallery.com/articles/ed-mell-western-art-collector.lasso   

 

For dinner we ordered pizza from New Jersey Pizza Co.  After being told "45" minutes we waited an hour then attempted to pick up our pizza.  We should have waited another 30 minutes.  In the true fashion of making friends wherever I go, standing behind the counter with the kitchen in full view I asked if anyone was from Jersey.  Turns out the owner/chef was a Garden State Native and his brother and father were fellow Scarlet Knights.  In addition, the owner used to be a swimmer and swam for the Jersey Wahoos which is the club team of many an RU teammate. As we continued to chat we discovered that a fellow waiting patron was also a Jersey boy.  Talk about small world.  I can't say that NJ was my favorite state to call home, but I do enjoy the privilege of saying I lived there seeing that no matter where you go, you're pretty much destined to run into one or more.

 

Despite a rouge teenage golfer who almost took out Jonathan and a window with his wild shot, only to drive away without apologizing or finishing the hole, we enjoyed one of the best NY style pizzas in the west!

 

 Sunday we started our day off at Brandy's, a restaurant featured on Drive Ins, Dinners and Dives.  Awesome food, great prices and some of the best pancakes Jonathan's ever had.  We attempted to go to the Celtic Fare but at $12 a head we opted instead for a fee free hike.  Since Mr. Jackson's hiking booties were not in-stock we kept to a relatively smooth terrain. On our way back to the house we were greeted by a rather robust little vole who showed now shyness in peaking out of his hole mid day with people and dogs standing nearby.  Despite cutting it short due to a rather toasty unobstructed sun we enjoyed our nature experience, which may not be reflected by Jackson in the picture below.

 

 

 

Luckily, by the time we returned to the valley the temps were only a mere 108.

A furry friend in need

This week we've experienced a bit of aptly texted, pandemonium at the Hupp household. Tuesday on our usual walk Jackson and I were greeted by an exceptionally friendly stray. She had no collar, is likely under two years old, appears to have been owned and loved by someone but was now wandering the streets. I consider it fortunate that she was so interested in Jackson and myself that I was able to guide her to our house for safe keeping/temporary fostering. 

Just to be very clear, we did not intend on keeping this adorable bundle of energy, but we were going to fight hard to find either her rightful owner or a good, safe home. This surely 40+ pound American Staffordshire Terrier/Pit mix is not only one of the sweetest dogs I've ever met, but she is a stunning little specimen. She has a beautiful healthy brindle patterned coat, very healthy teeth and an exceptionally expressive face. She loves, loves, loves to play whether its with Jackson, who, much to his distaste, she inadvertently clobbers with her clumsy puppy paws or a tennis ball which can be thrown or just laying about to be knocked around, or, either Jonathan or I. She is happy to see people, very affectionate, and has shown absolutely no signs of aggression, even with food and toys. Often she is better than Jackson on a leash but could certainly use some training and will test your strength when she is interested in something other than her path.

We posted Found Dog signs and blasted all kinds of emails to rescue organizations, neighbors, office friends, and not until Wednesday afternoon did we start to get some sort of response from a few rescue organizations. Seeing that Pits or, as affectionately referred to, "bullies", still carry with them the stereotype of just being fighting dogs their adoption and placement into good homes can be quite a challenge. This dog wouldn't hurt a fly intentionally and deserved a good home/family. Had we not had our wonderful Mr. Jackson I'm pretty sure we would keep her, but we cannot. It would not be a financially responsible decision, nor would it be fair to our two kitties and Jackson. Its taken little Ms. Sydney until yesterday to eat a full meal and start roaming about the house again, even with the dog outside. Our other kitty, Mr. Toby, is in constant "I'll kick you’re a$$" mode, which is no doubt exhausting. Jackson is very interested in her, as here, but with her strength and lack of coordination he is quickly overwhelmed and almost freezes in shock when she approaches to play with him.

As of Thursday afternoon we had plans to meet with an adoptive family on Saturday with what seemed like great potential. We spoke over the phone for a good 20+ minutes discussing his past with bullies, and his recent loss of a bullie after battling an awful bout of cancer. Then on Thursday night around 9:00 PM I discovered I had three messages about the Found Dog sign. The first two sounded a little sketchy, but the third, who actually took the effort to contact both numbers on the found dog poster sounded reasonable. We discussed how to approach the situation and came up with a few questions to ask as well as what appropriate response behavior to expect. By the time Jonathan contacted the caller in the morning I had two more voice mails regarding the dog, one even provided her name.

Moments later I received a text with a photo of one of the callers sitting with our sweet not so little stray in his lap. It was indeed her. During Jonathan's over the phone investigation we felt that all of the owner's answers made logical sense (location, date lost etc.) And, it turned out that two of the other callers from this morning were, 1 the friend who found the Found Dog sign, and 2, his longtime foreman, who confirmed that she was his dog and is treated very well. Apparently she often joins them at work as the shop dog. No dates or locations were put on the sign and the photo was black and white, and again, all of his answers were quick and logical. I was not keen on his response to why she didn't have a tag/collar, but when I texted him to let him know I would get her a proper tag I received a grateful call back with all the info I needed.

It turns out "Lola", which was one of the answers that made sense since the only name we could get her to remotely respond to was "Lady", is only about 7 months old which certainly accounts for her high energy, curiosity and clumsy play. Despite a little disruption to routine, we were happy to provide her with a safe foster home and reunite her with her proper owner. We will miss her, but are confident our fury family members will be delighted to return to their usual routines.  

 

Hulk like strength strikes again...

PS to the Tifton story…

On the right is a photo of the window on my flight home. When I sat down I tried to close the shade, and not noticing the shade casing was at a bit of a tilt I damn near ripped thew whole thing off. Now call me crazy, but I didn't want to have to deboard an entire flight and wait for another plane so I promptly smooshed it back in the case as best I could and left the shade at the level it was when I sat down. 


When I told Jonathan about my window "issue" he commented that he sat in that very same seat on the way home from his original trip to Tifton, Georgia.

Dear Delta, fix your planes.

 

Phoenix Anniversary

Its official, its been a year and two days since our arrival in "The Valley". We spent our arrival anniversary running errands for the house, picking up paint, plants, and painting the ceiling in the living room. Not quite a celebration, but it was our first day back from our weekend trip to Georgia and it was nice to have a day to unwind.

As much as I'd like to say our trip to Tifton, GA was a purely for pleasure we actually traveled 3 hours south of Atlanta to attend the funeral service of the late Mrs. Edna Blackwell Hare, Jonathan's grandmother. The joy she spread and the number of lives she touched is immeasurable. She was truly an amazing, one of a kind, intelligent and understanding woman. Kind spirit, patient, giving and one of the most genuinely loving individuals I've ever known. She will be missed by all who knew and loved her, may she rest in peace. Both the viewing, which displayed a terrific assortment of photos celebrating her life, and the service were beautiful. I found the service more cathartic than expected, and was thankful that Jonathan and I were able to attend.

While in Tifton we made it a point to get up early enough for some sight seeing and obligatory travel photos. We took in great array of suburban architecture and even found some awesome midcentury/midcentury modern homes and city buildings which I was not expecting to find in such a small southern town. In addition, the drive to and from Tifton provided a great array of "quality" billboards and road shops. Two out of three roadside stops, the Plantation House, and Babcock's Pecans proved a bit disappointing since besides oversized portions of Pecan candy and the always essential ceramic miniature bells, painted spoons and key chain chotchkies, they only sold Florida souvenir shirts. Honestly where are all the proud Tifton, Georgia shirts hiding? It took about 2 hours of driving North, but we did manage to strike boiled peanut gold when we stopped at Snooky's about ¾ of the way to Atlanta from Macon. I hadn't been a fan of boiled peanuts until Snooky's delicious brew for which I am thankful, since now I dare say Jonathan can officially consider me his wife. How I love my Alabama man.

Seeing that I'm not from the South and apparently have a very entertaining way of pronouncing the word Pecan (I say it Pee-Kan instead of PaCon) I was sure to keep my mouth shut in the local stores. That area certainly doesn't take kindly to some damn Yankee butchering the pronunciation of their prized nut! I did however manage to find a single person (the friendly chef at the hotel) who shared my pronunciation of the word. Always good to know I'm not alone in my "unique" ways.

Even thought our trip's primary purpose was to bid our final farewells to an exceptional woman, I think Mrs. Edna would have appreciated our whirlwind Tifton experience. During our trip Jonathan mentioned an intention to return for an eventual Southern and South Eastern road trip vacation, so perhaps one of these days we will again find our selves in the self proclaimed "Reading Capital of America", Tifton, Georgia.