Tooth troubles

Wednesday evening when Jonathan arrived home from work we decided to entertain Jackson with a little game of fetch in the backyard. The weather was in the high 70s if not low 80s, and the spring blossoms made the air pleasantly sweet. From beneath the shade of Maurice’s diagonal trunk Toby approached where we were sitting via his kitty crab run next to Jackson as he returned the ball for another toss. While crouched in greeting to Toby Jonathan noticed a little bit of blood on his lip. I didn’t think too much of it since Toby is an avid hunter and/or scavenger, consistently bringing home dead animals and the occasional random wing. However, upon closer inspection Jonathan noticed a broken tooth!

Unlike with most kitty tooth breaks Toby had managed to break a rear tooth, instead of the more commonly chipped or broken front fang. To make matters worse it appeared that he managed to break it pretty close to the gum line. The cha-chings of feline dental procedures echoed softly in my head while I continued my internet research. Of course I was concerned with Mr. Toby’s health and comfort but he appeared somewhat unaffected by the broken tooth since he had enough energy to mess with Jackson as well as gobble down his dinner.

The next morning I managed to get Toby into one of the carriers and loaded him into the Cooper. Despite making a 3 day near cross country trip without so much as a peep, he is alsway quick to protest the anticipated trip to the vet. He was surprisingly calm and relatively loving when I let him out of the carrier in the exam room, but this euphoria didn’t last long. As if in anticipation of the vet’s arrival a switch flipped and Toby went into crazy stress mode. I attempted to lift him from the floor to the table and not only lost that battle but also a little skin and blood in the tussle.

After covering him with some thick towels and lifting him to the table the vet was eventually able to sooth him enough to check out his teeth. Turns out our little Mr. Toby had a wicked cavity which likely caused a weakness in the tooth resulting in a break from whatever random bone Toby gnawed on that evening. The dreaded tooth extraction was scheduled for the next morning. Poor Toby was going to have to go under for his dental routine, and we would be providing painkillers and antibiotics for the days to follow. I dropped a very annoyed cat back home before heading back to work for the remainder of the afternoon. As to be expected, he was none too happy to see me return later that evening and managed to avoid all petting and eye contact attempts until after he finished his dinner.

The following morning Jonathan dropped Toby off at the vet on his way to work. The vet would be performing an extraction of the broken tooth, an additional dental inspection and dental cleaning, as well as some blood work to be sure Toby was in good health. Around 4 PM I got the call that Toby was safely out of surgery. Very groggy but ok. He was apparently pretty cooperative and even allowed for blood to be drawn before being put under but started to get a little feisty shortly thereafter. During the exam the vet found a second tooth, (same tooth, but on the right side) that had a nasty little cavity and also had to be extracted. The remainder of his teeth cleaned up well and his blood work showed a very healthy kitty. They noted that his blood pressure was consistently little low and that he had a slightly slower pulse than expected, but again very healthy overall. Seeing that Toby can be quite a crate fighter they ended up placing him back in his carrier with some blankets before the anesthesia wore off. He was still a bit groggy when I picked him up at 6 and after I let him out in the house, he remained noticeably shaken. He roamed from hiding place to hiding place, not wanting to be bothered and clearly not feeling well.

As soon as allowed I gave Toby his first dose of pain killers. I hadn’t expected immediate results but literally within minutes he perked up. He stopped hiding, was content to hang out with us in the living room as well as hop up into the cat stand, and felt good enough to attend to some much needed self grooming as well as Jackson harassment. The following morning he proved to be on the road to recovery with some early Saturday morning “feed me” harassment including some voice altered meows, most likely the result of not opening his mouth fully. After breakfast and some painkillers Toby seemed to enjoy a pretty normal Saturday inside including a little play time and Sydney harassing.

Despite a costly vet bill I’m glad Jonathan noticed the broken tooth and that we were able to get the situation resolved and Toby back in good health. He appears to be making a speedy recovery and will likely be off the pain meds as of Sunday night.

** Toby update as of Tuesday... all is well and he back to his usual fiesty self, minus a few teeth.

Marrrrrrrmalade (the pirate version of marmalade)

This year we had a pretty good harvest from our solitary Grapefruit tree, and thanks to our mini bumper crop I had to come up with a more waistline friendly consumption method than continuing to make grapefruit pound cakes. The next best option, marmalade.  I found many a recipe online and finally settled on one that included a mix of honey, sugar, grapefruit, and ginger. Sounds like a reasonable Sunday project right?

We started Sunday with a little run/Jackson walk, worked on our concrete walkway and eventually made our way to Home Depot to check out some potential bathroom counter top tiles.  I was pleasantly surprised when I noticed the new addition to the over sized Venus flytrap at at the HD entrance, but unfortunately the tile was a bit of a let down.

 

Once we got back home I started on my marmalade.  After the honey and sugar came to a boil I added the microplaned ginger, grapefruit zest and the tart contents of 8 grapefruits.  While I cleaned and sanitized the glass bottles the contents of the pot steadily boiled, thickening and finally reached the desired temperature of 210 degrees. 

  

 

   

After scooping the potentially hazardous burning gu into the bottles Jonathan helped me tighten the lids before placing them in the boiling water.  This is the point at which Jonathan questioned. "Could these explode?".  I honestly had not thought of this but since I wasn't sure, I suggested we take a step back.

After 10 minutes I pulled the jars out of the water and placed them on a towel to cool.  Apparently the test for a proper seal is if you press the center of the lid and it doesn't bounce back, the jar has sealed; however, if it does bounce back, well you've got quite a bit of marmalade to consume in a short amount of time.

 

While waiting for the marmalade to cool we enjoyed a little chill time in our backyard. I sat with Jackson on one of the lounge chairs while Jonathan provided a little musical entertainment. Just before we were about to head in Toby sauntered up from the back gate with a small feathery gift. Nothing too extreme, but its the thought that counts.

 I didn't end up trying the marmalade until the next day and boy oh boy is it grapefruity and mighty thick. Sometimes, and I do emphasize, SOMETIMES, I get a sweet bite of a delicious homemade marmalade, but for a majority of the time I'm reminded why grapefruits are more often than not sugared before consumed. Seeing that this batch is a bit too intense for my taste I've starting to brainstorm with my mom some additional ingredients that I can be mixed into cut the tang of the grapefruit..



Yum



  

Our time outside also included a visit from a little hummingbird.

LA LA land

I spent 4 out of 5 days this past work week enjoying a taste of California.  I'm a Bay Area girl to the bone, but any time spent, pretty much anywhere in California warms my heart and reminds me how much I heart the state.  Seeing that I was in town for work purposes I didn't get to many free time activities, but was able to take in some sights and a few pictures during my stay.

I stayed on the 14th floor of a swanky hotel on Wilshire Blvd and could even catch a glimpse of the Pacific ocean! The style of the hotel was such that had I wanted to dawn a robe while hanging out in my room my choices were Zebra print or Leopard print.  The exotic robes were fitting for the massive red pocket door that served as the bathroom door.

To get to work each day I walked though a lovely neighborhood.  I didn't go off my map's path knowing I'd get lost, since even with the map in hand I tended to walk the opposite direction before noticing that my little dot was no longer on the designated path. Thank goodness for technology.  I didn't take as many pictures as I could have but tried to focus on some of the more interesting homes and items I came across.  The area was so beautifully Californian with a wide variety of house and apartment styles, gorgeous lush and colorful landscaping and people who smiled and said hello as you passed.

                                                                                       
On my final day in LA I had the chance to make a house visit to set up some equipment in Santa Monica.  I can't say for sure if I've ever been to Santa Monica before, but its an interesting place.  Lost of packed in homes and 1970s color inspired apartments.  Somehow the funny light pink and even lighter pink accent works out there.  Due to a little drama I actually had the chance to make it out to Santa Monica twice, but sadly both times I didn't make it to the beach.  It was so darn close but a beach visit just wasn't in the cards, nor on the work schedule.

  
I flew back to Phoenix on Thursday evening and, as always, was very happy to return home to Jonathan, a very happy and wiggly Mr. Jackson and the kitties. In just over a week I'll be making my way to DC for another work adventure.  I'm very much looking forward to returning to the area and catching up with some good friends while in town.

(Below are a few more pictures from my morning walks to work)

                                                                           

13.1 - Done

At 4:30 in the morning I stated the day’s mantra, “here goes nothing”. In just a few short hours I would be starting my very first half marathon. Now I fully acknowledge that 4:30 is mighty early, but this early start to my day was not for mental preparation. Not only was the Phoenix advertised race starting 22+ miles away in Mesa/Apache Junction, but per the grand design of the race planners I had to catch a ride on one of the buses running between 4 AM and 6 AM that dropped runners off at the start line waiting area for a 7 AM start time. Heading the warning that not all runners would fit on the last bus I planned to catch a 5:30ish departure.

Jonathan and Jackson dropped me off at the buses at 5:30, 20 minutes before the sun was even expected to rise. I rode with fellow runners in the darkness to the start line waiting area and huddled distantly and strangely in solitude with strangers around one of the many small fire pits. The temperature was somewhere in the 40s and I was having difficulty understanding why we were made to stand around in the smoke filled waiting area for about an hour before we could even head to the start line.

After jumping about in place in a sad attempt to warm my semi frozen extremities the race started promptly at 7 with the blast of a cannon. I knew right away I wans’t off to a good start and it was going to be a very long run. As my frozen feet thunked down on the downhill pavement I tried to figure out a way to slow down to no avail. While thawing my left toes started to protest joined by a twinge of pain in my right knee and foot. Mind you, I’ve barely hit 1.5 miles. I tried my best to enjoy the desert scenery without thinking about how much further I had to go.

After we left the park the run continued along the back streets of the boomburb that is Mesa. Scenery included massive stuccoed walls barely containing the monstertron development neighborhoods with homes where residents could pass salt shakers between neighbors. At the finishing line I heard someone comment that the run included beautiful scenery, I wondered where she had just run and which massive stucco monster she resided in. Back to the run at hand.

Since I knew Jonathan had dropped me off and I had provided the locations of suggested cheering locations I searched for him around every minimally populated cheering hang out. By mile 7 it was a good thing I hadn’t yet seen him since I was pretty sure I was about to tell him to pull up the car because I was done. By this point my frustration had built to the point of a near emotional moment. No single mile had been pleasant, I was barely over half way done, my right knee was so tired it was starting to tighten making a long stride out of the question and I was going to have to walk in a race for the very first time. Before one ounce of dramatic moisture could leave my eyes I pulled it together and decided I needed to take a breath and walk for a bit. I walked for just a about 20 seconds when I realized that the slower tempo actually gave my knee cap what felt like a better opportunity to dislocate thanks to an exhausted IT Band. Back to running I went.

Despite my very early onset of survivors shuffle I was surprised to see my mph was still in the low 9 minute range. Around mile 10 I tried to convince myself that the 5K remainder of the run wasn’t going to be bad at all. A mere 3 + miles, I can do this. Despite best effort it was no pleasure cruise. I started seeing a few buddies along the remainder of my run, people who I would pass while they walked, and who passed me up until they started walking again. It was semi calming to see I was not alone in my uncomfortable, slow going situation. Rounding the corner at mile 11 I knew I needed to walk a little before I started shuffling a hole in the pavement. As I started walking, scooting to the side as not to interrupt fellow runners three people passed me, one making the comment “running by yourself has to be so lonely”. Thankfully I didn’t have any rocks on hand because I couldn’t guarantee one wouldn’t have pinged off the back of her head. I took minimal satisfaction when I passed their little threesome after returning to my running shuffle.

No this is not me finishing, but this is around the time
I finished despite getting no pictures : (

Seeing the mile marker for 13 was a beautiful thing, but mind you, still not enjoyable. As I made my way to the finish line I managed to break away from any other runner and actually had my name called out as I finished. Hooray!!! 2 hours and 2 minutes later it was all over. I tin man walked to pick up my finishers medal and a few snacks before meeting up with Jonathan and Jackson to head home. 

Before I ate breakfast I was 98.9% sure I would never do that again. But after some food, a shower, a trip to the dog park and a very much needed nap I began to re-consider. My frustration and disappointment in how difficult the run turned out to be, as well as my lingering stiffness would eventually subside. Just like everything else in life, these feelings were not permanent, this too would pass. As the day continued and we celebrated with dinner out I started to realize the sickness that is athletic addiction was creeping in. Yes, I would likely give this another shot, but the next time I’d be sure to train with more consistency and find a better course. Till next time : )