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Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.

Bonnie is Back Home


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Health update for family and friends: Mom is back from the hospital and staying at a friend’s house nearby who has a condo, as opposed to a trailer, and a spare bedroom. I pick her up in the morning, bring her to the park for the day and then take her back to a proper bed at night. She is in good spirits and has bounced back really well. She promptly took Spud for a walk as soon as she got to the trailer this morning and soon had a little entourage of park residents walking with her – it was very cute.

The bad news is, her pathology report came back and we found out yesterday that she will need “continued treatment” – which basically amounts to Chemo. So, that obviously sucks, and I don’t think any of us expected it based on certain indicators that hadn’t been there in the PET scan or the recent blood work. After some sniffles we got back on the horse and have made an appointment with Mom’s oncologist for early next week. He will help us decide what the next steps are and whether or not the folks will have to cut their Florida season short. If chemo is yet again the course of action Mom wants to have it done in Canada with the same doctors who managed it when she went through this 3 years ago. In which case by May we’ll have Mom, Dad, me, Janet, 2 puppies and 3 cats living under the same roof. Thank goodness I managed to finish the Winchester last summer – cause I’ll be moving the frig in!

Yes, the news could have been better. But the surgery went off without a hitch, and the cancer hasn’t spread beyond the lymph nodes which are easy enough to zap and clear out. There is even a brand new drug called Avastin which cuts off blood supply to affected lymph nodes thereby killing off the harmful cells. We may give that a go prior to dusting off the wig again. Said hairpiece sits in a box on a shelf in my bedroom closet and I sincerely hoped to be able to burn the damn thing once I got home.

My family is quickly turning into a seasoned troop of grizzled health issue veterans, and we’ll get through this like we’ve tackled everything else. And let’s be honest – the weasels are really going to help both Mom and Dad’s mood and recovery. Only 3.5 weeks left till puppy ground zero! My hardwood floors shudder in fearful anticipation.

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Gallery Updates for Gazing


in Photos

I just updated my galleries with a few new sections and updates. First off, enjoy silly stills of my Florida adventures thus far. You’ll see angry peacocks, cats on leashes and awful septic snaps. Then, please marvel at my latest additions to the Shepherd 2.0 gallery. Rhuby and Shep’s eyes are open and they look less like Guinea Pigs and more like Boston Terriers these days. Finally, I’ve also added a gallery of Christmas photos where you’re sure to enjoy elves on shelves, pirates, weird looking dogs and nocturnal poolside partying. Use plenty of lube and don’t chaff yourselves.

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Monday’s Quotelet: Bashful Bostons


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When Shep and Ruby were shown a photo of their soon-to-be adopted parents, David and Janet, they immediately asked if they could be re-assigned. Or perhaps even sewn into a sack and thrown in the nearest river.

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Friday’s Quizzlet: Trailer Park Nerds


in Friday's Quizzlet, Monday's Quotelet, Nerdery, Television

Appetizer: What is your middle name? Would you change any it if you could?
My middle name is James after my Grandfather Jimmy Smith. Not to be confused with Jimmy Smits who is far too young and hispanic to be my Grandfather. Jimmy Smith was born in Scotland and I spent most of my youth following him around and aping his accent – which probably explains a lot regarding my propencity for mimicry. And scotch.

Soup: If you were a designer, which fabrics, colors, and styles would you use the most?Gay-Pirate
I am a big fan of forest green, cobalt blue and not being gay. In terms of a style I think I’d be leaning towards metro-sexual pirate. “Avast, me hearties! Can I borrow a flask of rum and two fingers of product fer me fookin’ beard?”

Salad: What is your least favorite chore, and why?
I find that changing bed sheets requires an insane amount of effort. Especially if you use the same set over and over. Or frequently piss the bed. Stripping the mattress is quick enough, washing and drying is fairly automatic. It’s putting the whole thing together that takes the most time. Then you have to pull the bed out from the wall, flip the mattress so you can sleep on the dry side and sprinkle more lime on the dead hooker under the boxspring – it’s quite a chore, to be fair.

Main Course: What is something that frightens you? Can you trace it back to a life event?
Even now I do not like swimming in the ocean. I have never been a big beach person but to actually submerge myself in the open sea is something I might do once a summer. In terms of an determining event I’ll say what everyone else probably does – repeated viewings of Jaws as a child. And the fact that I was drowned as a witch in one of my former lives.

Dessert: Where are you sitting right now? Name 3 things you can see at this moment.
I am sitting at a makeshift desk in my parent’s trailer. Dad is to my right watching the first season of SNL on DVD (a present from me, obviously). The hockey fights DVD is probably going to be next. I can see the picnic table outside where I plan to sit tonight, have a beer and play LOTRO after the sun sets. That’s wicked nerdy, I know, but I’m on Dad-duty this week and as crazy as it sounds even I can only watch so many Bond films. Finally I see one of the park peacocks strutting around the lake next to our trailer. This is definitely a strange little universe I’ve found myself in that I will try to relay in future posts. Happy Friday, y’all!

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Bonnie’s Bum is Better


in

Dad and I are heading back to the hospital in a few minutes but I wanted to quickly let everyone know that Mom’s surgery went as well as it possibly could have yesterday. We spoke to her in the recovery ward while she was waiting for a room and she had her eyes open and was still rambling on through the morphine wondering if we had enough to eat. Bless. She’ll be in the hospital for at least 8 days and then we’ll bring her back to the park where one of the neighbors, who is away, has generously offered up their sweet RV for her to stay in while Dad and I try not to strangle each other over which James Bond DVD to watch next door. As they say in FLA, “I’ll keep y’all posted“.

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