Hip Hip Hooray!

I have been having back and hip pain for over two months. Truth be told, I've been experiencing problems with my back for many years. But this more recent episode began with sciatica, and it morphed. That's one thing I've noticed over the years, the unpleasant sensations I experience as a result of stenosis and other arthritis issues with my back change. Sometimes the back of my legs tingle, all the way down. Other times the front of my thighs ache. Sometimes my calves feel like they have hot electrodes sunk in them. It's never the same old, same old....but it does get old! 

As the most recent flare up started I sought out a Chiropractor. I hadn't had much relief from a gal I used a year ago, so I looked at recommendations online, further delved into at a few that bubbled up frequently, and chose Dr. O. I was impressed! The office runs efficiently and is managed by pleasant, efficient folks. As I had recent enough x-rays, I didn't need a new set. Dr. O performed a thorough exam and took a detailed history. Over the next few weeks I visited for adjustments, and accompanying massage torture sessions. The massage guy is also no-nonsense and gets right to the point....always finding 'those' spots and pressing, pushing and making me know the spots were there in his attempts to get the muscles to release. A few weeks ago Dr. O voiced his puzzlement about my issues and referred me to an orthopedic practice . I was impressed. IMHO Chiropractors generally feel physical health and well being is achieved through manipulation of the spine, not through other means. How refreshing when a doctor recognizes he has gone as far as he can with his practice, and suggests an alternative. 

Today I visited the orthopedic office. Again, another amazingly smooth running practice. I barely had a chance to sit down and complete their new patient forms on a tablet before I was called in for an x-ray. I was returned to waiting area, and again, promptly called into an exam room. I saw the PA, and the doc, and was out of there.

And the outcome? Nothing definitive. It was kinda like going to the doctor 'cause you feel terrible, only to be told you have a virus and there is nothing to be done. The great news is that my hip sockets still have cartilage so a replacement is not part of the equation. Although it doesn't look like I have full-blown bursitis, it is possible that my bursa is somewhat inflamed, as is the area around the SI joint that is irritating the sciatic nerve.  The doctor feels that the root of my problem are the existing issues in my lower back. The PA gave me a packet of exercises and stretches, I could probably have written the packet myself! However, to my credit, I had been doing them before everything blew up....but me being who I am...I may have been a little too aggressive in stretching and exercising. I was given a prescription for steroids to combat the inflammation, and a follow-up appointment in a month. If I am still having problems the orthopedists will look a bit further north in my body for answers.

Sandhills

This popped up on my FaceBook feed today. It brought back so many memories, I had to share it!

The moment you know your day is about to go sideways in Florida is when you spot a sandhill crane standing somewhere it absolutely should NOT be.

Not near a marsh.

Not in a field.

Right in the middle of the Publix parking lot like it personally manages the property.

In Florida, this isn’t just a bird.

This is a six-foot-tall prehistoric traffic supervisor fueled entirely by swamp energy, entitlement, and the belief that YOUR car is the problem.

You slow down hoping it’ll move.

It doesn’t.

You tap the horn gently.

The crane slowly turns its head like you just violated state law.

You inch the car forward.

It takes ONE slow step closer to your bumper like: “Interesting decision, buddy.”

Suddenly being late to work feels way safer than escalating the situation.

The crane just stands there. Silent. Unbothered. Built like a retired velociraptor with HOA authority.

Like it personally approved the layout of this parking lot and your Honda Accord failed inspection.

And then it happens…

The warning sequence.

Wings spread wide. Neck extended. That weird prehistoric screech echoes across the parking lot while somebody loading groceries quietly backs into their car and locks the doors.

That’s when you realize: this is no longer traffic.

This is negotiation.

Tourists think Florida wildlife means alligators.

Florida residents know better.

Alligators usually mind their business.

A sandhill crane will stare directly into your soul for 14 straight minutes while blocking the only exit lane near the garden center.

They don’t attack like normal animals.

They supervise.

Slowly. Confidently. Like tiny airport security agents enforcing parking lot law.

And somehow there’s ALWAYS another one nearby.

Just standing there watching.

Like backup officers waiting for the signal.

Meanwhile one retired guy in flip-flops casually walks past saying: “Yeah don’t mess with ‘em this time of year.”

SIR WHAT DO YOU MEAN “THIS TIME OF YEAR”???

So eventually you do what every Floridian learns to do:

You stop the car. You avoid eye contact. You let the sandhill crane complete whatever mysterious government operation it’s conducting in front of the shopping carts.

Because in Florida…

the bird doesn’t move for you.

You move for the bird

All of this is basically true! The Sandhills were a common sight when I lived in Babcock Ranch. Sandhill cranes mate for life, and we would see a few different family units; mom, dad and one or two youngsters. It was very common to run across the cranes while walking the dogs in the mornings. They were often foraging in the grassy open areas sprinkled around Babcock, and would simply lift their heads and stare at me, and my two large dogs (at that time an Aussie and a Border Collie), and go on feeding. Being within 10 feet of them didn't even phase them!

What the Facebook story doesn't address is the sounds of the Sandhills. We would hear this echoing off the little lake we lived on, and it would always make me smile!

Although Sandhill Cranes are found in central Florida, we no longer live in their habitat area; wetlands, waterways and open grasslands. I may run across them in my travels, one never knows! 

Did the Itsy Bitsy Spider Cause This?

 As I write, early on Sunday evening, I am being serenaded by rumbling thunder, and the rain has begun to fall. Not much, but it is rain! The weather map is constantly evolving. It can't make up its mind. I hope the blobs of green and yellow continue to grow and move over our area. Like so many others, we need the moisture 

I'm keeping my fingers crossed as we look ahead over the next 10 days. Maybe, just maybe, we will be entering into the more usual 'rainy season' in Florida. The article accompanying the graph below stated that the rainy season in north western central Floria typically begins around May 25. Looks like we might be right on target! 

This is a graph of the percent of rain chance in the Tampa Bay weather region over a typical year. The fact that there is an identifiable rainy season stands out like a green thumb!

Here's hoping! 

Generally our days are sunny, hot and muggy, crowned by the buildup of thunderheads and a glorious, short downpour in the early evening. As much as I don't care for the additional humidity from that, we certainly can use it. 

Century Plant Woes

We have had a huge Century Plant (Agave Americana) in our yard. The spikes were well over my head. Sadly, our plant was damage by the severe cold that we experienced. But of course, I never thought to take a picture of it, either before the freeze or afterwards. I found this picture of another frost damaged Agave on the Internet.

Checking the "encyclopedia at my fingertips" (Google), I was told to use sharp scissors to trim the damaged portions off of the leaves. Yeah, right! That's a joke. The spine of each leaf is over an inch thick. The spikes are like leather. Scissors didn't even knick the leaves/spikes.

Yesterday I grabbed the Mister's small, battery-powered chain saw and went to town, removing the brown ends from each spike. It looks rather lopsided, and still could use a little more trimming on the very tips, but at least it looks more alive than crumpled and dead. 

With the satisfaction of a job finished (perhaps not well done) I trundled my cart and tools around to the back, and went inside. Then it hit me. OMG! My arms were on fire. They itched. They burned. It almost made me cry. I realized that there must be something in the Agave plant that causes skin irritation. I stripped off my shirt and pants and ran, with my arms burning even worse, to the kitchen. I poured dish soap on my arms and began washing. I picked up a small scrub brush, and scrubbed. The burning did not abate. If anything it intensified. I looked online and discovered that Agave has calcium oxalate crystals and oils that cause severe irritation and painful rashes. Yes, indeed! One article said to flush the skin for fifteen minutes to ensure that all crystals are washed away. Oh, and it also said not to scrub - oh well, too late for that! I jumped into the shower and slowly the painful burning subsided. All that remains of my escapade is a bit of a spotty rash, and the memory imprinted on my brain. If my plant needs more attention, it will be done in full length sleeves, pants, and gloves, leaving no gap at the wrists! And trust me, I have no burning desire to touch that plant again! 

Patchwork Pie

This was in my email list this morning. 

How cute!

And you could do this with just about any pie. 

But, if you want to try this pie, click here.

The Long Arm...of the law?

I wanted to share a wonderful feature of my long arm....and it should be a law! 

The Mister mentioned the "Comfort Table" as a selling(buyer's) feature of the new long arm, when I was considering it.  I knew that it would be really nice to have, and yesterday it proved its weight in gold (even at today's prices!) The Comfort Table has an electric motor that raises and lowers the table, and thus the machine and the sewing surface. On my previous machine I had to release clips, one by one on 5 different legs, sliding the legs up or down to the next spot the clip could go in. The only way I could do this was assuming an "Atlas holding the earth on his back" posture, hunching under the table and lifting while releasing the clips. Not exactly great for one's body. Suffice it to say, once the table was at the correct height, it stayed there. The correct height being, for most quilting, at such a height that you have a 90° bend at your elbow when standing at the machine. 

Usually that's where my machine, on the comfort table resides. However, my back/hip/sciatic have been problematic recently. I also had a lot of tiny quilting to do. I lowered the machine, pulled up my chair, and went to work. It was perfect! 

At one point in the quilting process I needed to do some stitching at the very top of the quilt. It was difficult to see what I was doing at a seated height, and even standing, leaning over at the usual height was painful. I raised the table until it was almost chest high, allowing me to lean over without pain and quilt the portion at the top of the quilt, 

I have the best of all worlds!

Ding-Dong

We get a lot of visitors at our door....on our 5+ acres...behind a locked gate!

Many times a day....

Originally we taught the girls to 'touch' a bell hung from the door knob 

to let us know they wanted to go out. 

Kaitlyn is the queen of ringing the bell. 

She is our 'farm dog' and prefers to be out a lot during the day. 

Vickie will occasionally ring it. 

At our previous home we had the bells on the door leading to the lanai.

Once the dogs rang the bell, we could leave the door ajar

as it led to the screened-in pool cage and an opening to the fenced-in dog yard. 

They could come in at will. 

We didn't have that option at our new home. 

Segue....

I have always been fascinated by dogs who learn to touch buttons

to explain what they want or need:

Then I began to think...I have Corgis. They are smart. 

My girls would constantly be telling me they want a treat!

Do I want them to be telling me what they want? 

When they want?

NO! 

But...

What's the best way to have the dogs let me know

when they are ready to come inside?

I didn't want them scratching at the door.

And, if I wasn't in the room near the door, would I hear it?

Could I teach them to bark when they wanted to come in?

Okay...I don't want them to learn to touch buttons...

but what if I used a door bell?

I found a 'doggy door bell' on Amazon for around $30.

Then I found a wireless 'human' door bell for around $10. 

BINGO!

It only took a few days before the girls learned to 'touch' the doorbell pad.

I mounted the bell on the sill of the doors,

one for the front door and another for the back door (with a different "ring"). 

This has worked for us....

and our girls!

Oh, and for one of the guys working on our house!

He was enthralled by what the dogs would do, and if he had his arms full,

he'd touch their bell to let me know he needed help at the door!