Elite Menagerie Habitats, Pen Argyl (Pa.)

I woke up feeling rather neutral on a dreary November day. I’m drowning in work– not uncommon for a small business owner– and keep receiving less-than-ideal news. The news is nothing worth complaining about, but certainly adds to my metaphorical plate.

I had promised a friend I would accompany him to the fish store today. The fish store turned out to be Elite Menagerie Habitats on Main Street in Pen Argyl, Pa., which is more or less my old stomping grounds, the Slate Belt.

The visit certainly improved my mood as I experienced awe and wonder at the variety of her tanks and the vibrancy and health of her fish. The care and passion she has for her stock is evident.

Now, my husband and I made some attempts at keeping fish many moons ago (and we named them all after Muppets) so I do know a bit about how much devotion and knowledge it takes to keep a healthy aquarium. Part of me would love to keep a tank again, for the relaxation and meditation angle of it, but I don’t have the time, patience, or resources to be a good aquarium caretaker.

For more information about Elite Menagerie Habitats, this is their website. And I am posting this is hopes that perhaps other people might wish to support her and her small business. Because small business is hard.

Pre-Snowstorm at the Modern Laundromat

Preamble: New Job

So, life got more hectic than usual this week. That’s a large statement on my behalf because my life is normally chaotic, but I promise this is not hyperbole.

I started a very part-time job this week (two days a week, short shifts) and the details of that shall remain for a separate post. But needless to say, the interview, the job offer, my acceptance, and my orientation happened in less than a week.

Winter is a terrible time for retail– and book sales follow retail trends– and my political journalism work won’t resume for another month. With the trials our furnace put us through this autumn and the illness that knocked us out of commission in December, I needed some predictable income even if it does only add $150 a week to the household coffers.

The Flat Tire

On Tuesday, Eva and I had a tight schedule– I had a morning meeting, Eva had some lunch dog walks and a therapy appointment and when she was due to get home, I would head out the door to my gym appointment at St. Luke’s fitness.

But when I got out of my meeting I had a flat tire with a screw sticking out of it. Luckily, a man in the parking lot had a portable air compressor and filled my tire. Then I picked up Eva, drove her to her dad’s to get his car, and then drove to the tire place.

Did I mention it had started snowing?

I had not slept much because of all the goings-on so I opted to cancel my gym appointment.

The Bedroom Reno/Redo

I’ve needed to deep clean my room for a while. I live with a bratty Goffin’s cockatoo and have three cats who live in my bedroom, so it’s always gross. I vacuum and clean cat boxes every other day if not every day but there’s still dust on everything, whether it be plaster dust, dust dust, bird dander or bird seed.

Eva painted my room originally about six years ago in Behr Diva Glam, which later turned out to be a pretty close match for “Parisian Phoenix Pink.” At that time, we painted the trim almond and ripped out the carpets but we never finished the old hardwood floors. Nala, my naughty Goffin’s cockatoo, has been peeling paint off the wall and eating window trim, and when we first painted the room we had an issue where the paint didn’t quite stick.

So, somehow, one thing led to another and the upstairs of our house has been scheduled for a deep clean. But somehow even that deep clean has gotten out-of-hand. Like maybe I should have gotten a bagster or dumpster.

We ripped down everything from curtains to bedding and Eva repainted my room and updated the color scheme. I managed to find the exact color I used to have. Eva also cleaned and updated the electrical outlets and switches. We also have a new ceiling fan to go in there eventually.

Eva decided to go ahead and learn how to refinish the wood floors and she stained them Behr “espresso” water-based poly/stain combo. This room has not had the floors done since we’ve owned it, but we also did not want to wait for the oil to dry or asphyxiate ourselves while doing this in winter.

Today, before the impending snow storm, Eva and I opted to take all of the curtains, bedding and animal beds and stuff to the laundromat.

The Modernity of the Laundromat

So, I haven’t gone to the laundromat in 20+ years– even our apartments either had a laundry room or a washer/dryer hookup. But I have retained the habit of collecting “sacred laundry quarters” for parking, Aldi, tolls, emergencies like a cup of cheap coffee.

I know of at least three laundromats within a half-mile of my house and I googled them. I decided on So Fresh N So Clean for its location across from Wawa and Home Depot and between the former salon where my favorite nail tech used to work and Papa John’s pizza in the old health food store.

I expected, thanks to the web site, that there was wifi and that I could pay for my wash with my quarters or digital options or use the change machine to get more quarters. But I did not anticipate the app. The app attempted to tell me what washers and dryers were free and texted me when my laundry was almost done.

Fitness strike out

I had my intake for the Thrive medical fitness program at St. Luke’s Hospital. I did not finish all of the required testing because my heart rate and blood pressure were too high.

But let’s back up. Perhaps things aren’t as “all or nothing” as I feel right now– I feel like in many areas of my life I am “failing” or “losing” and the reality is that life is more complex than that.

I was soooo excited to join the Thrive Medical Fitness program, and I still am. The staff seems pleasant and supportive.

And I wanted to do stuff.

No doing stuff yet.

I had a 5:30 appointment for the intake, and I was 100% honest on the form about my habits and my medical conditions. After all, it’s a hospital-sponsored program so they have access to at least my medical history anyway. So I told the staff member about my fall history, about my bout of afib, about my orthostatic hypotension, my anemia, and my increase in spasticity.

And I quickly learned that due to all of these conditions, I will not be allowed to workout independently at the facility. I will have to make an appointment and work out with one of their trainers for every workout.

Now, to start, I can see this being prudent, and I hope I will prove I am not a danger to myself and be allowed to drop by and workout. But, if not, my new home gym is almost ready.

So, I accept this. I even try to see the nice staff person’s small gestures to my elbow as I step on and off the fancy scale as kindness. She does not know me, so she has to be cautious. But it would be a delicious story if I fell off a scale. And hurt myself. At the hospital.

Which reminds me of the time I fell down the stairs at the hospital, but that’s another story. You can read that story here.

Then, they took my heart rate and my blood pressure. Both were really high and would not come down.

Part of that might have been because I did not know they were in the basement, and even when I made it to the basement, they were tucked in a corner that had me walking around the whole building for a while. Then I got myself worked up when my anxiety was already doing overtime– I’m thinking a lot about how I’m going to heat the house this winter, what my next strategy will be for maintaining the publishing company’s income, and facing the holidays, a time of year when I typically feel the absence of my family.

So today I started taking my beta blocker again as I initiated my Clever Fox fitness journal. I filled out all the spaces regarding measurements, goals and trackers. Maybe it will force me to be introspective and keep track of my own behavior.

And meanwhile, I have taken Bean Dog for several walks this week. Our first was on last week, and it lasted less than five minutes. We walked halfway up our block and back, just to see how she behaved for me and if she would walk with me and leave Eva behind. The second walk was straight down our street almost 1.5 blocks and straight back, for a total of nine minutes.

Yesterday we walked around the whole block, which took 12 minutes, but about 8 minutes in, Bean spotted our neighbor’s pitty jumping at the fence literally within view of our house and I was afraid to try to get her home. In trying to grab her heel-level handle, I scraped my knuckles on the asphalt and decided to just sit there and wait for Eva to rescue us or for the dog to calm herself.

Today we walked two full blocks (15 minutes) after Eva trained me to use a hands-free leash with a bungee-style lead to absorb some of the force. Eva hooked it to the traditional leash so if she started to react badly I could brace my body weight and use more of my power to balance the dog, and then regain my control by taking the traditional leash back.

We have not had to do that, but it’s good practice and good exercise for both of us.

PS– I return to the medical fitness center tomorrow to resume my intake testing.

Everyone’s errands ends with a swarm of wasps, right? That’s normal…

From the editor’s desk

It’s Friday–

For me, that doesn’t mean a whole lot because I work when I need to work and since I love the editing, reading and publishing that I do and I often forget to stop. I work seven days a week and regularly schedule day trips and small outings to force myself to take a mental break.

That’s really not even here nor there for today’s tale.

I woke a little late today, and rest is always a good thing, so I didn’t make it to my desk until about 8 a.m. Larry Sceurman, author of The Death of Big Butch and Coffee in the Morning from Parisian Phoenix Publishing, had sent me a story and asked for my editorial services. He was stopping by at 9:30 so that I could scan the cartoon he made to accompany the story and then we planned to have a breakfast meeting.

After that, (which included for me eggs benedict as Larry and I continue our tour of local diners– we’ve done Big Papa’s before it closed, then Palmer and now Williams’), I came home and looked at some of the text Ralph Greco sent me on his upcoming article for a major publication, and received an email from Thurston Gill about prepping a Phulasso course catalog and a text from Joseph Swarctz about his upcoming new picture book Sprinkles Did It!

I was feeling sluggish (all those yummy diner fried potatoes?) so I poured myself an iced coffee.

I got a text from Eva-the-no-longer-a-Teenager. I needed to deliver posters to Barnes and Noble for next weekend’s Parisian Phoenix Book Lovers’ Celebration and she needed to pick up come cat food from a client that their cat won’t eat. And she said I could swing by Panera and grab an iced coffee for tomorrow.

Into the car I go.

Phase One: Barnes & Noble

I run into Barnes & Noble as a cool summer rain falls upon the Southmont Shopping Center. The manager is behind the customer service desk and I voice to him my concerns that the posters aren’t the right size.

Now, I don’t know if the designer didn’t resize them when I increased the size or whether the printer we used couldn’t accommodate the size or whether I screwed up somewhere else along the way, but the posters are too small for the standard displays and took big for the table toppers. So if I can find some big sheets of Parisian Phoenix pink poster board I might have to swing by the store and matte them.

Sometimes things just don’t work the way you planned.

If being a small business owner has taught me anything, it’s that when these discombobulations happen, you can’t get angry. You can only roll with it the best you can and develop alternative plans on the fly.

And then…

I hop in the car. We run to Panera and I grab my Sip Club beverage. We drive through lovely developments where a strange number of homes have decorative boulders somewhere along their driveway.

Eva pulls into her client’s driveway and remarks that the truck is not present. She gets out of the car. The car yells because it is still running and she has taken the electronic fob. An email slides into my in box, and I see that it’s my automated response from Substack. I had put together an automated welcome email for “Larry’s Stories” and subscribed my junk address so I could see it. I glanced down at my phone so I could forward it to Larry so he could also see it.

I heard a strange buzz, like there was a bee in the car. But then I heard more buzz. I looked up. There was several wasps in the car. I had the windows cracked, so I thought maybe if I opened the sun roof they would exit, especially since they were gathered around the rearview mirror. (I was in the passenger seat.)

Swarm of wasps

A beautiful collection of colorful flowering shrubs sat outside the car to my right. I opened the sun roof and more wasps entered the car. The wasps were swarming the car!!! I made myself as small as I could in the seat, because the wasps had no interest in me. Obviously they did not see me as a threat and I wanted to keep in that way.

My daughter and the wife of her client, whom she had never met, came out of the house and Eva immediately noticed something was off and there was a weird amount of insects around the car. I hopped out, because I didn’t want anyone to come to close to the car without knowing that the car had a bit of an infestation.

Once I exited the car, the homeowner realized that her husband’s work truck had a wasp nest on it, which he had perhaps knocked down, and in any case, he had driven away. So these wasps were confused and homeless and probably search our car for their missing house.

I carefully slipped into the drivers seat and backed up the car farther down the driveway, with the door open, hoping the wasps would gravitate to the garden and not my Volkswagen. We closed the windows except for a crack in the sunroof and hoped.

When we reentered the car about five minutes later, only about four remained inside the car and as we started to drive away that number dropped to two. And one I accidentally squished in the window.

To make sure none of them followed us home, Eva jumped on the highway to outrun the bastards.

The clients felt terrible and they even texted us a photo of the original wasp nest. I can see why the wasps were confused.

Two weeks in the life of Angel

I wish I had some exciting reason that it’s been two weeks without a post. The reality is that I’ve been ghostwriting a novel and that every free moment I have has been dedicated to that client who is currently paying my mortgage. Luckily, I love the client, I love the story and I love the whole experience of being a part of the project so it’s not a hardship by any means.

The book publishing entity– Parisian Phoenix Publishing— has been paying the other costs of life. If you follow the blog there and/or read the Substack newsletter, you will see we are always doing something to keep the company and its authors growing. And if you need another reminder of why and where to buy books, check out the shop we’ve curated at Bookshop.org, where you can shop online and designate your favorite independent bookseller to receive the profits from the sale.

So, rather than try to catch you up with every bit of crazy while I’ve been away, let me provide this fine list:

The Initial Joys of Summer

  1. The Teenager only has a few more days of Teenagerdom and she has spent much of the last month renovating our garage into an indoor/outdoor living space. She is hosting her birthday party out there and I can’t wait to show you the final result.

2. I have started using the outdoor patio more as the Internet extends that far and there’s really no excuse.

3. We decided to try the Papa Johns Cheeseburger Pizza and their new Spicy Lemon Pepper Wing Sauce. The boneless wings are terrible, but the sauce is out of this world. And the burger pizza– especially with the $10 promotional price point–might be our new favorite food. The Teenager has proclaimed that all pizza should have pickles.

4. I spent some more time with my cat, Fog. We normally use a “crate and rotate”-style system for all the animals. For the last year, my boy Fog, our old tripod Opie and the cat the rescue gave up on, Canyon, have been in my room. We decided to let them free roam and this meant I got to spend some time during my long work days with my man, Fog.

5. Speaking of cats, our houseguest, Paulie, still loves to bite me, but he has gotten quite forward about being in my business.

6. We pre-gamed the Teenager’s birthday by going to Dave & Buster’s for some arcade time and then visited this strange convenience store with the old style poker video machines, alcohol, vaping supplies, penny candy, ice cream, strange snacks and all the household goods one would expect from a convenience store.

7. I made some new recipes including rhubarb quick bread (think banana bread but with rhubarb) and my own twist on fried pickles. I smeared/shredded cheese on a kosher dill pickle sandwich slice and then pinched it into a piece of Italian meat before breading and frying. Both were amazing.

8. My 2015 Jetta turned over to 71,000 miles. The Teenager has been driving it for work, so it only had 55,000 on it when I got laid off from Stitch Fix in September. But in other exciting news, before the end of the month, the Teenager should pay off her 2012 Nissan Rogue which we’ve had two years when we only planned to keep it for six months. It’s pretty much ready for a demolition derby now, but it was The Teenager’s first car loan and she paid it off six months early.

And lucky number nine….

(The Celts believed 9 was a holy number, because nine was a collection of three sacred threes.)

9. Today, I got to have a lavender matcha latte with my book-making, mixed media, painting artist friend Maryann Riker of Justarip Press. We stopped at Spectacular Coffee at Easton’s Silk Mill after indulging in a green sale (yes there is such a thing!) at Vasari Oil Paint.

Cat tree with a side of sneakers

I ordered a new cat tree. It was a product Amazon sent me for free in exchange for a review as part of their Amazon Vine program. And it was designed to look like a space rocket so how could I say no.

When the box arrived, The Teenager tore into it. And the first thing she discovered was a pair of ugly sneakers. “Unisex” no-tie, size men’s 5.5 sneakers. So she tried them on.

The 53-inch cat tree had no instructions packed with it, and the hardware wasn’t organized in the box either. So, the resourceful-as-ever Teenager called up a photo on Amazon, because the box had no photos either.

This cat tree was missing all the plastic half-globe pieces for the cats to sleep in. There are supposed to be two. It’s made of particle board and the legs were not equal heights.

The cats have explored it, but if I had spent $90 on this, I would be very unhappy right now. It’s the only one-star review I’ve ever given on Amazon. The random sneakers is what made me have to share this with you. Because once again, my life heads into the ridiculous.

People and Dogs: Come on, where’s the common sense?

If you don’t know, my daughter– The Teenager about to turn 20– works in the pet care industry, primarily doing dog walks and in-home pet care visits. She is also a dog trainer, and spends a lot of time and energy studying dogs, observing dog body language and finding solutions to people’s problems with their dogs.

She is the one who encouraged me to apply for a service dog, and although I grew up with dogs, she has taught me so much about dogs and why they do what they do.

Her dog, F. Bean Barker, who, will be four this summer, can be reactive and territorial. The Teenager has worked very hard to decrease her dog’s reactivity and expose the dog to situations to improve her tolerance. Today, we took her to a dog park. The dog park is less than two miles away from our home and off-the-beaten path so it’s not as well-traveled as some other local places. It has a lot of green area to explore even outside of the dog park. So, if the dog park is occupied, there is other stuff to do.

This dog park has two sides, one for dogs 25 pounds and under, the other for dogs larger than 25 pounds. Each side has a double gate system, so you can enter the first enclosed room and make sure your dog is ready to enter the other side without risking releasing any dogs already in the park. (In this dog park, there is also a gate between the two sides.)

Now, if you do not have a dog or if you have a rural dog who has no need of a dog park, you may not understand that dog parks can be extremely dangerous. You never know how other people’s dogs will react, and you can find that certain dogs have behaviors that can unnerve the most calm and pleasant dog. Owners often don’t keep close enough control over their dogs inside the park, believing the environment is contained and safe. But just like two normally well-behaved children can suddenly behave like cold-hearted killers on a public playground, dogs can change in this unfamiliar and potentially unmonitored environment.

We know Bean is a good dog, well-trained with a recall, but that she often has a hard time with other dogs especially if they aren’t appropriately socialized. Now, even if you think your dog is “good with other dogs” or “well-socialized,” you may not understand dog body language or stress signals to know how well your dog is doing in a new situation.

Knowing this, we brought plenty of our dog’s favorite treats, put her in a harness and on a prong collar and tucked a can of “pet corrector” into our gear. When we arrived at the dog park, one adult and one child had two small dogs running the entire expanse of both sides of the dog park. The Teenager decided not to engage and walked the dog around the human passive recreation trails.

The family soon left, taking their two small dogs off leash through the parking lot and leaving every gate in the dog park open— the two entering the small dog park AND the interior. That means if someone had entered the large dog park, appropriately, the large dog could have run into the small dog side and exited into the busy parking lot. Really?

Needless to say, this dog grandmother went through and checked every gate before Bean and The Teenager entered.

I sat under the pavilion and watched while Bean and The Teenager explored.

I was technically lookout, because The Teenager had removed Bean’s leash and if another dog came The Teenager wanted enough time to leash her dog and make sure Bean was under control, or at least, obedient.

I looked up from my book (Hunter’s Shea’s Manrattan which I am enjoying very much) and there was an unattended mastiff with no leash standing outside the gate. The Teenager already had Bean outside the dog park and releashed. So, we left.

The owner of the mastiff strolled leisurely to the gate, while his unleashed dog just had free reign. Why don’t people have common sense???

Dogs in public should be leashed. It’s a law. I don’t care how well-behaved your dog is– if it is attacked or frightened, it will end up in a fight. Even the best dog in the world would defend itself in a fight, so regardless of how the fight starts, both dogs could be injured or killed.

And, as someone on a wait-list for a service dog, it angers me to see how many people don’t understand why certain laws exist regarding where dogs can go and how they should be handled. A dog masquerading as a service dog in a store for example not only might create a bad example for real service dogs, but if it is not trained properly it could attack or spook another animal (or a person or a service dog). A service dog that encounters poorly-managed and badly trained animals in public could be attacked or spooked in such a way that it might not be able to do its job, creating a financial and practical hardship for the disabled person relying on that dog.

So please, leash and control your dogs as the laws ask you to do.

The little weird lucky things

Yesterday ended up being a strange day. Strange in happy ways, I guess, and I’m afraid I don’t have any photos to accompany this post. But you will see some familiar characters.

I went to visit Nan in the morning. She’s been having some technology failures and is trying to rescue her remaining files from her Braille N Speak. Her current model is dying. So we did some dictation to save some items.

Then, I stopped at CVS. I thought I had $5, $3 and $2 in Extra Bucks with one of them expiring that day, but my phone only showed $3, $2 and $0.04. I went back to the pharmacy window and to pick up my allergy medicine. This spring has been awful for me.

The tech who served me, I had never seen her before, and she saw my $35 tab and suggested I try GoodRX. She found it for $17.24 (which happened to be my house number growing up, see previous post. I like numbers). So she saved me twenty bucks!

I meandered through the store looking for snacks, as my cupboard is bare. I noticed notebooks on clearance for 90 percent off. I texted The Teenager to ask if she could use them or if I brought them home would she just hoard them… She said she would hoard them until the start of next semester.

I got her return text as I was standing near the Nature Valley Granola bars. CVS had a couple varieties on sale for $1.99 a box. I grabbed two boxes of peanut butter biscuits. That and some notebooks (five) at 45 cents each came out to $1.17 after my $3, $2, and $0.04. But at the register, I noticed my $5 off coupon that I couldn’t see on my phone. So I paid, and went back into the store and found my favorite KIND breakfast bars for $2 off. After my $5, that came out to $0.99.

In the afternoon, I visited my neurosurgeon to follow up on my aneurysm. And read the results of my MRA in early May. I got a parking spot right outside the door! At the hospital complex! THAT never happens!

I arrived early, hoping to read more of my nonfiction marketing book that is getting on my nerves. They took me back early. And the doctor showed up early! I was out of the office start to finish in less than 30 minutes, which was only 15 minutes past my original appointment time. And good news– what looked like an aneurysm behind my left eye according to the CT scan did not show up on the MRA.

Then I met Southern Candy at a local park and in the evening, The Teenager, the neighbor and I took Little Dog for ice cream after a dental and having some teeth pulled.

Stray Cat Strut Easter Edition

A few days ago– Friday to be exact– I took Little Dog’s Mom to the grocery store as she is still in the “no driving” phase of cataract surgery recovery. I drove the car to the street to wait for her and when she got into the car she noticed some pawprints on the windshield.

Later in the day, The Teenager commented about pawprints on the hood.

The next morning, (yesterday) I went into our garage and smelled cat urine. I immediately texted The Teenager, “I think we have a cat in the garage.”

It took her about twenty minutes to find it, hiding behind a rocking horse from The Teenager’s toddler days.

So she texted her boss about borrowing a cat trap. We set up food, water, a bed and a litter box in the mean time.

Yesterday afternoon The Teenager set up the trap (with sardines) and this morning, we had a stray cat shaking and looking at us.

The cat is not reacting to us at us. It appears to be a “she” but we’re not poking around too much at her genitalia to be sure. We set up a crate in our mud room and soon she will need a bath (she is filthy), some fled meds and dewormer and hopefully after Easter passes we can have her scanned for a microchip.

In the meantime, if anyone in my neighborhood recognizes this cat and can send the owners my way that would be great. Because based on its behavior, this is someone’s lost house cat.

Welcome February or “Wow, it’s been a month!”

I didn’t realize– or perhaps deep down inside I did– that I did not write in this blog at all in the month of January. I have written in the Parisian Phoenix blog, on my Substack, for the Lehigh Valley Armchair Substack, for Kiss and Tell magazine, for press releases and social media…

But not here.

I have spent much time applying for jobs, going on job interviews, and following up with second interviews, and working with my authors at our small publishing company, attending networking events, meeting with other writers and professionals, and grocery shopping at discount retailers like Grocery Outlet and the Dollar Tree.

(Grocery budget has been $25/week, but this week I splurged and bought a baker’s dozen bagels for $9.50 at Panera because they have a sale on Tuesday, and I used my CVS coupons and their sales to buy 2 boxes of KIND breakfast bars, a box of Grape Nuts and a box of Cocoa Krispies for $13.)

My personal favorite cheap meal this month has been these gnocchi from the Dollar Tree, served with a cream sauce I made with butter, lemon, and some artichoke hearts (using the oil they were marinated in). The artichoke hearts and the Barber Foods Chicken Stuffed with Broccoli and Cheese came from Grocery Outlet. The whole meal cost me about $3 per serving. And I used up some half and half that was on its last leg.

If it weren’t for car insurance for the teen and heat (I’ve been keeping the house at a balmy 60 degrees since I had to pay for $600 in furnace repairs in December), I have enough clients to keep me afloat indefinitely even after unemployment runs out in about six weeks. But the uncertainty of it all is hard. My biggest faux pas since my lay off was dropping the oil cap into the engine compartment of my car while topping off my fluids before a winter storm.

Luckily, good old Southern Candy and her son came to my aid and he fished it out for me– took him 45 minutes and the promise of the $50 cash I had in my wallet. I could hear my Dad laughing the entire time. I swear he’s been playing practical jokes on me from the afterlife with all of these little mechanical problems.

Like he’s checking to make sure I can take care of myself.

Sometimes, Daddy, I don’t know.

We had two snowstorms in January. During one of which, the first actually, one of the Teenager’s college friends spent the night. (Photo: Here they are at about 10 p.m. having a snowball fight with one of our neighbors, a high school friend of the Teen.) The College Friend hails from Los Angeles, so this was her first snow. And we bundled her up in home-knit hats and gloves and sent her out to shovel and play in my snow boots. Because Lord knows I am not going out in that if I don’t have to.

I drove over to the Bizzy Hizzy, the now nearly empty Stitch Fix warehouse, to show my daughter the old Freestyle and Pick carts that had been set out for the trash. The carts are laminated, corrugated cardboard so I imagined they deflated pretty badly in all the rain. I explained to her how we used to pick, and showed her the pencil cans we used to hold our water bottles and the heavy-duty page protectors that held the pack slips after installation of the Big Ass Fans blew them out of the carts. Three years, evaporated and erased.

I’m still working out with Andrew at Apex Training and meeting my strength goals even if I am failing at my weight goals. The Teen says I need to be more body-positive, but I know I am regularly showing more than 500 garbage calories into my body for the emotional sensation of it. And I also know that as someone with heart and mobility issues, being overweight is not helping.

In good news though, because I share so much about my journal both as someone with cerebral palsy and someone who finds strength training cool and empowering, several other members of my gym are now setting strength goals and strength training into their routines.

While visiting Nan the other day I got to meet a really cute dog. She’s a French sheep dog. Nan and her owner both told me her breed and now I don’t remember. I asked Siri and she suggested a Wheaten Terrier or a Goldendoodle and both of those are wrong. So, I googled French sheep dog breeds and it suggested a few and I immediately recognized the word “Briard.” And it is indeed a dog that would get stuck in briars.

And last week, the Echo City guys and I went out to Pints & Pies for burgers for the guys and pizza for me. It was a very tasty pizza. I have been dreaming of it and the cold Yuengling draft I had ever since.