The Needle

 

During the last week of June, I decided it was time to make a sock monkey for our new grandson who was due to arrive in August.  I have made dozens of these monkeys over the course of my life.  I know exactly how to do it.

Unfortunately, while in the final moments of making the clothes for the monkey, I got my thumb a little too close to the sewing machine needle.  With a single up-down motion of the needle, the piercing dagger was embedded in my thumb.

The needle broke off  from the machine.  When I jerked my hand back in response to the injury, half of the needle was sticking out of my nailbed along with two long, black strings.

Without thinking, I grabbed the needle with my teeth and pulled.  Most of the needle came out, but the sharp tip was still embedded in my thumb, and both long, black strings were still hanging out of the nailbed.

I found a pair of needle-nose pliers and began gently winding the threads around them hoping to finish pulling the needle out.  No such luck.  The threads broke and the needle, plus additional black thread, remained in my thumb.

There really wasn't any pain associated with the accident.  Mostly I was just frustrated.  So instead of doing anything about my thumb, I finished sewing the monkey clothes together on the machine.  The next day I did all of the hand sewing to finish the monkey.

About two weeks later, I finally allowed consort to take me to the doctor.  You can see what the physician on call found in the above x-rays.  What the doc told me was that he could do absolutely nothing to help me.  The needle appeared to be lodged in the bone.  He wrote a prescription for a high-dose antibiotic to avoid any infection.  He then advised I go immediately to the hospital for emergency surgery.  

Yeah, it's all fun and games until they tell you surgery is needed.

I'm not big on medical procedures.  And with something like this, I really thought the needle would work its way out eventually.  There was definitely trauma to the nail.  I could feel the needle just under the skin and behind my fingernail.  About once a week I would trim the nail back which seemed to relieve the buildup of pressure.   

Fast forward to October 8th of this year.  On that particular day my thumbnail kept getting caught whenever it brushed over fabric.  Not giving it much thought, I finally took the time to trim the nail back.  After the first clip, I could see the silver end of the needle protruding from under the edge of my nail.  I grabbed my hemostats (the same ones I use for pulling the hair out of D.O.G.'s ears) and, after sterilizing them, went to work on extracting the needle.  (I probably should have gone to see Dr. W,  the infamous surgeon who lives three doors down...)

But I digress.

Each time I grabbed the needle, it receded back into the nailbed.  After a few attempts, I knew it was time to man-up and, despite the discomfort, pull the needle out before it receded so far into the thumb I wouldn't be able to reach it.  

On the fifth attempt I was successful.  The tip of the needle covered in thread came out.  The above picture shows the size and shape of a brand-new needle on the right.  The small piece on the left is what came out of my thumb.  And now, six weeks later, my thumb is completely normal.  The nail is growing back beautifully and both the tingling and numbness at the end of my thumb have gone away.

I believe this means it's time to schedule manicures!

Quote of the day:  Reject your sense of injury and the injury itself disappears. ~ Marcus Aurelius

Author's disclaimer:  I am not condoning the abandonment of a physician's advice.

A Sigh of Contentment

It's raining, it's pouring, the Old Man is snoring.  He bumped his head when he went to bed and he couldn't get up in the morning.  Rain, rain, go away!

Winter Texans want to play!

We are well settled into our new house.  The entire house has been washed, everything from appliances to walls.  Our belongings have been sorted and put away.  The winter season is revving up.  Most days the weather is too nice to stay inside, not to mention all the activities going on.  It seems the seasons are kind of backwards here.  Winter is for being outside and playing; summer is for hibernating against the formidable heat.  Because of this, consort and I have decided to put off any big projects until next summer.  Who wants to work inside when you can go to the beach?

These two pictures are of the guest bedroom.  The antique furniture was gifted me by my mother.  The bed is so tall one needs a footstool to climb in.  All of the doilies stitched together into a curtain were made by my great grandmother.  I have a hard time not pausing for a quick nap each time I pass this room!

This is the Texas room.  It looks out over the Resaca del Rancho Viejo.  A resaca is actually an ancient, abandoned outflowing branch of the Rio Grande river essentially frozen in time.  No new resacas can form because the Rio Grande River Water Authority now manages flood issues with dams and levees.  There are five primary resacas here in South Texas.  They vary in size and shape -- from oxbow lakes to long, narrow channels -- and cover about 250 river miles.  There is a multitude of wildlife attracted to the open water: raccoons, opossums, and feral cats; but it's the birds that continually catch my eye.  Orioles, green jays, parrots, doves, chachalacas, Mexican blackbirds, and Kiskadees.  It is truly a  feast for the eyes.

The living room.  Each morning I start the day with a cup of coffee while looking out at the resaca from the Texas room or from the deck, depending on the weather.  Consort and I both finish the day the same way, just sitting and looking out at the resaca.  We still can't get our heads around the fact we live in a place with palm trees and seagulls in the backyard.  That's just not something you see in Oklahoma.

Rainbow over the resaca and 
view of the resaca at night.

Both consort and I are quite pleased with our new digs.  I have the same wonderful feeling I had after we were married and moved into our first place together.  Cute little house nestled in amongst our friends just big enough for the two of us -- and, of course, the mangy mongrel and deranged moggy -- with endless possibilities for the future.

The crocodile has returned and

is swimming in my backyard!

This cormorant is to be found every morning

perched on a post that is in the resaca.  On this

particular morning, it looked as though he was

holding forth for anyone who would listen.

We had an event this year that was even bigger than giving up our nomadic lifestyle, if you can believe that.  

Our daughter gifted us with our fourth grandson.  He is a beautiful, happy, and healthy baby boy.  We couldn't be happier (I mean, you know, without the whole family physically moving to South Texas to be nearby).

We have joined the Brownsville Historical Association.  Our first outing was a Murder, Mystery, Mayhem tour of the Old City Cemetery in downtown Brownsville.  The walk-thru started after dark and was very well done.  We had about a half dozen encounters with miscellaneous rascals, rogues, and scamps who were buried in the cemetery and portrayed by talented actors.  There are some chilling stories that come from setting up a town on the Mexican border!

Here's a couple of mugshots for you.  On the left, consort and I are dressed to attend a Kentucky Derby party.  On the right, we recycled the clothes for Halloween and dressed as zombie Ken and Barbie.

The weather here has really cooled off over the last couple of days.  Yes, it's definitely time to break out the winter coats as the temperatures drop into the 60s. (I know, I know.)  I decided it was time to bake.  On the left, a strawberry-rhubarb pie (thanks to DJ for the fresh rhubarb!).  In the middle, caramel corn (not a good idea to try to make caramel on a wet, rainy day.  Oh, the humidity!).  On the right, chicken pot pie (fairly unattractive, but consort says it was better than Marie Callendar's).  I seem to be in a baking contest with my neighbor four doors down.  I think he's winning, though.  He bakes bread and Cinnabons and BAGELS!! for goodness sake!  The man is a culinary genius!

And that's about it.  We're settled.  We're happy.  We're pleased with the house.  We're as busy as we want to be.  And for the most part, the sun is shining down on us.  Life is good.

On the stereo:  Mungo Jerry ~ Summertime

Reading:  A Sound of Thunder by Ray Bradbury

On the TV:  Friday Night Lights

Chapter 2

 

This is obviously an older picture.  We've had nothing but sunshine for weeks!

This has been a year of change for Consort and I.  After spending four years on the road as full-time RVers, we decided we've had enough moving around.  We have traded the Ford F350 for a new Nissan Rogue.  We have purchased a mobile home located in the 4 Seasons RV park in Brownsville, Texas, and we have put the fifth wheel up for sale.

The flier advertising the fifth wheel for sale.

Kitchen in our new house

We closed on the new house the end of June and began transferring our belongings from the fifth wheel to the house.  I must say I was dumbfounded as to just how much stuff we (that's the royal we and mostly I just mean me!) had packed in the trailer.  As an example, we (see above note) were carrying around 60+ hardback books, you know, just in case.

Daughter was our first houseguest arriving days after we were in our new place.  One evening while she was visiting, I observed something odd.  After taking a shower in the bathroom I was sharing with daughter, I noticed a fish drawn on the steamy mirror.  I assumed daughter was showing off her artistic talents.  It made me smile.

I finished up in the bathroom then went to find daughter to let her know I had seen her whimsical art.  She said she had not drawn the fish and assumed that I had, so we're not really sure how the fish got on the mirror.  No matter how many times I clean the mirror, the fish reappears each time the mirror steams over.  We're beginning to wonder if we brought our ghost from our last house.

The heat and humidity here in Brownsville are unrelenting.  We've become accustomed to it and don't let it slow us down.  

 

On a recent trip to Mexico, we saw this Humvee-type vehicle going through customs.  The Humvee has been modified into an RV.  A family of five from France are travelling the world in this unique RV.  If you're interested in their story, check them out on their website which is printed on the side of the vehicle.  (Bigbidule Bouquins Trotteurs)

We are still making weekly trips to the beach.  We have a large umbrella, two beach chairs, an ice chest, a bag with everything D.O.G. needs, snacks, books, and extra water.  Oh, and most importantly, a fat-wheel wagon to transport it all.

The beautiful carousel at Brownsville's Sunrise Mall

And we go to the mall.  Sometimes just for the air conditioned walking, sometimes to go to the movies, and sometimes just to shop.

Have I ever admitted in this blog that I never drove the F350 truck?  Before becoming full-time RVers, I drove a convertible Volkswagen Beetle.  The switchover to the F350 dually was just too much for me.  I drove the truck about a mile two different times, but other than that, Consort was always designated driver.  Now that we have traded the truck for the Rogue, I am at ease with driving again.  Consort is thrilled to say the least.  When I want to go to the mall and shop, or a quick run through Hobby Lobby, he can take a raincheck.  This pleases us both.

Note the bright vertical mark at the end of the thumb bone

Now, that's a picture you don't see every day.  At the end of June, prior to moving into the new house, I had my sewing machine out working on a sock monkey, a gift for our newest grandson scheduled to arrive August 31, 2023.

Here is the finished sock monkey

I was finishing up the last bit of machine sewing when I had an unlikely accident.  The thumb of my left hand got a little too close to the sewing machine needle.  The needle of the machine went through the thumb nailbed and broke off.  When I pulled my hand back, half of the needle and two long black threads were protruding from my thumb.  My instant reaction was to grab the needle between my teeth and pull.  That sort of worked.  All but the tip of the needle came out.

A close-up of the needle as seen on x-ray

My thumb was a little tender from the trauma, but no real pain.  I loaded a new needle in the machine and finished what sewing needed done by machine.  The next day I did all of the hand sewing.  I tell you all of this to underscore what a "non-event" I thought this was.  Everyone I talked to said I needed to have the needle removed, but I just kept thinking it would work its way out.

Not quite two weeks after stabbing myself with a needle, I went to (what I thought was) an Urgent Care.  There they took x-rays of my thumb.  Then the attending doctor said there was nothing he could do.  The needle is lodged in the bone and will have to be surgically removed.  That kind of rocked my world!  I told the doc I did not want to be admitted to the hospital.  He gave me a prescription for a really high-dose antibiotic and told me to follow up with an orthopedic hand surgeon.

That's about where the story ends.  I've had a second opinion from my trusted doctor in Oklahoma who wholeheartedly condones the surgery.  There has been no infection and I haven't had any pain, but my thumb just isn't right.  My goal for the week is to get this needle out of my thumb.  As I've already said, it doesn't really physically bother me, but the speculation of "what if..?" weighs heavily on my mind.

Quote of the day:  I'd rather live in a place and have an actual part in the life of it than just see new bizarre things. ~Ernest Hemingway

On the stereo:  Summertime ~Billie Holiday & her orchestra

How hot is it?

 

How D.O.G. tolerates the heat

Consort and I decided to change things up a bit this summer.  In past years we have spent the summer in the lush, green verdure of the Smoky Mountains.  This summer we decided to stay put in Brownsville.  There are a lot of things going on behind the scene just now that brought us to this decision.  If any of them ever come to fruition, you'll be the first to know.

When I talk to people here in south Texas about the heat, I get varied responses.  Some people find the heat oppressive and unlivable; others say if you limit your time outside and stay hydrated, it's not a problem.  Consort and I are somewhere in the middle with our opinions.  There's no question that outside there's nothing but hot, sticky heat.  The tropical humidity we have traps the heat overnight so nothing really has a chance to cool down.  It doesn't help that Texas is having an abnormal heat wave.  There have been four heat advisories so far in 2023, and we're not even into July and August.  The only year close to that was in 2016 when there was a total of three.

As humans, we do what we can to avoid the heat.  When we go to the beach, we sit under a huge umbrella.  If there's work to be done outside, it's done early in the morning or -- as is more common for consort and I -- early evening.  We've placed an insulated barrier over most of the interior windows.  We placed a heat reflecting panel on the exterior of the fifth wheel where the refrigerator is located to help keep the fridge cooler.  We wear loose clothing, hats and sunscreen, and we always wear shoes outside.

D.O.G. isn't thrilled with the heat.  D.O.G. is a Puli, and the Puli breed has a double coat of hair.  For him it's a lot like wearing long underwear and a winter coat all day every day.  I've trimmed back all of his cords/dreads, except on his legs and head, to help keep him as cool as possible.  But we needed to find a solution for his paws to avoid the hot pavement.

Note the two pictures above.  On the left, a chart listing pavement temps.  On the right is a picture of a dog's paws that were burned by the asphalt.  (Pics acquired off the internet.)

When we were still living in our sticks-and-bricks in Broken Arrow, I purchased a pair of Muttluks for D.O.G.  Every day, no matter the weather, D.O.G. and I went out for walks.  In the winter on the rare occasions we had snow or ice, I put D.O.G. in his Muttluks to protect his paws from sharp ice and salted snow.

So what are Muttluks?  Shoes for dogs, really good shoes for dogs.  The boots we purchased for the snow and ice are the original fleece-lined boots.  The soles are a soft leather with a fleece lining.  The exterior is made of waterproof fabric.  They were a little tricky to put on, but they worked beautifully.

Around the first part of May, consort and I realized that we were going to have to do something to protect D.O.G.'s paws from not only the hot pavement, but also the odious goat's head thorns that are found everywhere.  It didn't take long for us to also recognize the need for paw protection on the hot, sandy beach.

When it came time to order shoes for D.O.G., I thought the fleece-lined boots would be best.  I liked the idea of the extra fleece lining between paw pads and scorching surfaces.  Once the boots arrived, we began using them for every walk.  That's about 2.5 miles each day.  Sadly, after only two weeks of wearing the boots, the toes of the shoes were ripping out.  I have asked D.O.G. to please pick up his feet when he walks, but it doesn't seem to be helping.

I called Muttluks and explained the problem.  (That's a plus for the company right there:  Humans answer the phone in Muttluks' customer service department.)  The sales person I spoke with was knowledgeable about the product (another plus).  After asking me questions about how the boots were used, the sales rep suggested we switch from the original Muttluks to Mutt Trackers.  It is also important to note that the company replaced the worn shoes with new at no cost to me.

Mutt Trackers, which D.O.G. is showing off in the pictures above, are made like actual tennis shoes.  They have a rubber sole, leather toes, waterproof exterior, and Velcro closures.  They are super easy to put on and the wraparound Velcro strap keeps the boot in perfect position.

The most difficult thing about the Muttluks that I found was measuring the dog's paw for size.  The measuring itself wasn't hard, but trusting the results was a leap of faith.  D.O.G. is a pretty good-sized dog (whether he should be or not), but when I measured his paws for size, he fell into the extra-small category.  I went ahead and ordered the extra-small size even though I was pretty sure I'd be returning them.  I was pleased to find that the measurements were accurate and the boots fit like a glove.

I know buying shoes for dogs seems pretty ridiculous.  I am old enough to remember when dogs lived outside and roamed neighborhoods without leashes.  But I am a real proponent of shoes for dogs.  There are no more goat's head thorns stuck in his paws.  No grass seeds that need to be surgically removed.  And no burned or cracked paws.  What's not to love?   

They say you can tolerate the heat in Arizona because it's a dry heat.  I came in from running errands earlier today and made a comment to consort about the blistering heat and stifling humidity.  He smiled and said, Yes, but there's a breeze.

On the stereo:  Hot! Hot! Hot! ~Buster Poindexter

In a Tight Spot

Consort was inspired today to do some work inside one of the bins in our fifth wheel.  I went outside with him to help clean out the bin so he could crawl into it, remove side panels, and access the work to be done.  After everything was cleared, I went back inside leaving consort to work.  I told him to yell for me if he needed any help.

About five minutes later, I heard consort talking to someone outside (or so I thought).  Being a curious Kat, I went outside to see what was going on.  I did not see consort anywhere, nor were there any neighbors in the yard.  I called out to consort and he answered, but from where?

I decided consort must be on the back side of the trailer talking to our back-door neighbor.  As I went down the stairs and turned toward the back of the trailer, I heard consort's voice again.  His voice seemed nearby, but I was still puzzled as to his whereabouts.  He was nowhere to be seen.

Once again I started my walk around the trailer when I heard consort yell out.  The sound was muffled.  That's when I noticed the bin doors were closed tight.  I walked over to the trailer and opened one of the bin doors.  There he was, trapped inside.  The wind had blown the door shut.

I could not stop myself from laughing when I found my sweet husband trapped in such an unlikely spot.  Consort, ever the good sport, laughed along with me.  But later he made the comment that being accidentally stuck in a narrow space is  only hilarious if you're not the one jammed in a tight spot.  Of course he's right, but I have learned to appreciate the little things in life that make me laugh.  This fills the bill.

On the stereo:  There's no way out of here ~David Gilmour

A Thrilling Adventure at Dollywood

Hey there, thrill-seekers and amusement park enthusiasts! Today, we're diving into the exhilarating world of Dollywood, the beloved amusement park nestled in the heart of Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. Join me as we explore the adrenaline-pumping roller coasters and share some unforgettable moments of fun with our beloved grandsons. So strap yourselves in, hold on tight, and let the adventure begin!

Welcome to Dollywood!

Notice the sign.  The pie is bottom rack.

Nestled in the scenic Smoky Mountains, Dollywood is a magical destination that combines the charm of the Appalachian region with thrilling rides and world-class entertainment. It's the perfect place to create lasting memories with your grandsons and let loose with a dose of adventure.

The 2 youngest grandsons INSISTED
on riding in the first car every time !

Consort found the nearest trashcan upon exiting a roller coaster.

The Need for Speed:  Roller Coasters at Dollywood:

The Lightning Rod.  Brace yourself for an electrifying experience on the world's fastest wooden coaster, Lightning Rod. With speeds reaching up to 73 miles per hour, this coaster guarantees an adrenaline rush like no other. Feel the wind in your hair and let out screams of excitement as you navigate the twists and turns of this gravity-defying ride.

The Wild Eagle.  Soar like a majestic bird on the wings of the Wild Eagle, Dollywood's first wing coaster. As you glide through the sky at speeds of up to 61 miles per hour, the sensation of flying combined with stunning views of the Smokies will leave you breathless. Prepare for a sensation that's both thrilling and awe-inspiring.

(When I have my grandsons with me, their safety always comes first.  The Wild Eagle looked like a terrifying ride -- and it was, but both Middle and Youngest grandsons wanted to ride.  I got in line with them with the plan to share their ride.  When we made it to the front of the line, we realized only two people could ride at the same time.  The grandsons went solo.  I rode with the next guy in line.  Screamed throughout the entire ride.  Such fun!)

The Tennessee Tornado.  Hold on tight as the Tennessee Tornado sends you spinning and twisting through the mountains at a heart-pounding speed of 70 miles per hour. This steel coaster will leave you grinning from ear to ear as it takes you on an adrenaline-fueled journey of loops, corkscrews, and unexpected drops.

(And the Tennessee Tornado is the culprit that caused consort to seek the nearest trashcan upon exiting the roller coaster.  In his defense, he had just consumed about a quart of soda before starting the ride.)

I think the grandsons' eyes lit up more over food
and less over favorite characters.

Fun with Grandsons: Memories in the Making:

Dollywood isn't just about the thrilling rides; it's also about creating lasting memories with your grandsons. From watching their eyes light up as they meet their favorite characters to sharing laughter on family-friendly attractions like the Dollywood Express train or the River Battle water ride, every moment becomes a treasure.

Dollywood's live shows and entertainment options cater to all ages. Sit back and enjoy musical performances, dazzling acrobatics, and mesmerizing displays of talent that will leave your grandsons in awe. Whether it's the mesmerizing lights of the nightly fireworks or the toe-tapping tunes of the Bluegrass and Southern Gospel Festival, Dollywood offers a feast for the senses.

At Dollywood, the exhilarating roller coasters and the joy of spending quality time with your grandsons combine to create an unforgettable experience. From the heart-pounding speeds of Lightning Rod to the shared laughter on family-friendly attractions, this amusement park has something for everyone. So why wait? Grab your tickets, embrace the adventure, and make memories that will be cherished for a lifetime at Dollywood.

Remember, the next time you're seeking a thrilling adventure and some fun with your grandsons, Dollywood is the place to be. So, get ready to scream, laugh, and create memories that will be treasured for years to come. Happy riding!

{Disclaimer: Due to the dynamic nature of amusement parks, it's always a good idea to check Dollywood's official website or contact them directly for the latest information on roller coasters and attractions.}

Blogger's note.  This entire blog was written using AI, Artificial Intelligence.  I've been reading about AI and am intrigued by the technology.  I wondered what would happen if I gave AI some basic information concerning what I wanted to blog about.  You have now read the results.  Thoughts?