And through this door…

You probably thought this day would never come.  I wasn’t too sure it would come either.  But here we are, seven months after moving into our new house, and I am ready to continue on with the virtual tour.

We already saw the bathroom, which was the room in the most dire need of a remodel when we moved in.  Therefore, being completed first on the list.

The other day I finally buckled down and finished off the office.  This was a difficult room for various reasons.  First, it’s extremely small.  Like a twin bed would take up half the room small.  Second, the paneling.  Oh, the paneling.  I despise it.  I anticipate the day that I no longer have to look at it. 

So, here it is before we moved in.

08-17-08 016 by you.

08-17-08 017 by you.

So, we painted the paneling an off-white, and the trim bright white.  My mother and I made a valance for the window and a curtain for the closet.  I finally got Derek to put up some shelves, and am rather pleased with how they turned out.

Derek’s beloved Fitzgerald print was the inspiration for this room, but it’s mostly an eclectic mix of things.  Some of my dad’s photography is on the shelves and the four elements fiber art next to the door is my mom’s handy work.

03-15-08 003 by you.

03-15-08 007 by you.

03-15-08 009 by you.

03-15-08 012 by you.

There you have it.  It’s an improvement at least.

Calling her Princess probably doesn’t help matters

Kirra had her annual trip to the vet last night.  But if you asked her, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t use the word ‘trip’.  Something more along the lines of armageddon would suffice.

If you ask me, a trip would consist of a quick, painless walk into the office, a few shots and then a painless walk back out.  Perhaps I shall rename it to ‘the one day a year that my 38 pound dog beats me up.’   That’s persistent with what happened last night.

I’ve gotten used to her fear over the years, have had to deal with it since we got her, but it seems each year it gyrates further and further out of control.  And for such a little thing, that girl is solid and she PACKS. A. PUNCH.

For the life of me, I could not hold her still last night.  I put a muzzle on her before I lifted her to the table, and from the first touch of the vet’s fingers, she lost it.  I could feel her heart drumming under my hands, you could probably hear her breath heaving from her lungs a mile away.  Not to mention the highly skilled acrobatic acts she was conducting in my arms.

Aside from the few kicks she landed to my stomach and the half dozen times her skull connected quite hard with my chin, we got through it.  With FIVE people in the room.  My sister was sitting in front of her, trying to calm her while Keiko was trying to hide under the chair, me and two vet tech’s were trying to keep her still, and the vet himself managed to get the shots in and the blood drawn.

I felt absolutely terrible.  And this time, I honestly expected her to stay traumatized.  But, as always, the moment I took the muzzle off and put her on the ground, she was herself again.

She is quite a complex dog, I’ll admit to that with no hesitation.  And I really wish everyone could see who she really is.  She’s smart, adorable, loving, loyal, with a little stubborn and bitchy thrown in there along the way.  But you’ve gotta take what you’re given, right?  I honestly wouldn’t change one thing about her.

I don’t think many people can see past what they experience with her.  We’ve been at this vet since Keiko was a puppy, and they all love him to death, but I don’t think they ever came to accept her.  There was another before this one she went to and the Doctor there loved her, and was very gentle and considerate of her, but not one other person in that office liked her.  Granted, she did bite one of them when she was there overnight to get spayed, but I believe that is just as much their fault as it was hers.  But they always blamed it on me, telling me I didn’t socialize her enough.  So, we left.

I’m beginning to think that a new vet would ease a fraction of that tension for her, atleast for a few years.  I adore that girl, and will continue to do what I can to ease her unease for that one annual visit to the vet.

Perhaps it’s a sign of things to come

It often staggers me how different it is where we live now compared to where we used to live. 

Our first house was a pink bungalow, nestled into square mile after square mile of basically every shape and color of the exact same house.  You ask any man, and he would probably say it was beige, but you ask me, it was pink.

Our lot was small, allowing me to keep everything trim and neat.  Shoveling the driveway took no more than ten minutes, mowing the lawn took not much more than that.  Each of our neighbors were only ten feet away on either side of us.

Our neighborhood was a community, people were constantly sitting on their front porches, walking over to a neighbors house to simply chat.  When we first moved in, we were the new kids, everyone was feeling a bit disturbed that there was a married couple in their early twenties moving in across the street, or next door.

But, they came to accept us, and eventually some of the houses around us began to change ownership and we no longer held that title.  A city cop lived across the street, an elderly man who only found pleasure in talking to others and sharing his stories next door.  It was a quaint neighborhood.

It’s like a completely different world where we are now, and I just haven’t gotten used to it yet.  We know none of our neighbors, and with some of the things happening, not sure I want to.  I may have to blow some of my steam sooner or later about our neighbors, but now is not the time. 

Anyway, I woke up and let the dogs out this morning to find ten deer wandering around the yard and I wasn’t sure it was real for a moment because when the dogs ran out into their pen, the deer simply lifted their heads, steam coming from their noses, and walked over to the fenceline, inches from the dogs.

I was captivated by what was happening, especially when Keiko, the one that goes berzerk whenever a wild animal is around, simply sat down and lifted his nose to the deer’s head.  By the time I thought to grab my camera, the scene was over and the deer were just wandering again, chomping at the bare branches of our pear tree.

Yesterday afternoon, there were five of them hanging around for a while, and that had been the first time I’d seen any sign of them other than some footprints since November.  I’m hoping that’s a good sign.

For the last few months when I looked out at our property, all I could see was the mess that needed to be tended to, the hours and hours of labor it would take to make it suitable.  I’ve changed my standards, and what was suitable at the old house no longer applies to this one.  I may not live in the country, but in my eyes it’s close enough, and the image of a perfectly manicured, cookie cutter, suburb home is slowly fading with nature taking its place, and there is nothing I love more than nature.