Broken But Not Defeated

Now that this whole ordeal is relatively behind me, I feel confident in getting back on the horse (no pun intended...wait you wouldn't get this reference yet) and writing about the horror that has been my life for the past two months.  I may be writing like a bit of a drama queen but it really did suck and it's just started to suck a lot less. 

The long and short of it is, I broke my ankle.  At this current minute the bones have re-acquainted themselves but as of the end of June they broke up.  I'm almost relieved I actually have a good story to tell when it came time to tell it to the 8 million people that asked "What did you do to yourself?"  It would have been super lame to have to recite the fact that I tripped over a pile of dirty clothes or miscalculated a step or worse, I tripped over my own feet.  All of which I do on a daily basis.  No, the reason my ankle broke was because my 1200 pound horse landed on it after he tripped over his own feet.  Good thing he doesn't have to tell his story, cuz that would be totally embarrassing. 

We had just finished up a three hour trail ride that consisted of a lot of difficult terrain...up and down steep hills, chasing cows, jumping ditches, splashing through creeks, and maneuvering through overgrown paths a foot wide.  It was totally fun and we both had a blast.  I could literally see the barn, and in three minutes I could have been off and untacking but instead I ended up off and halfway under my horse after he and I fell down a ten foot drop because he forgot which foot went first at a very inopportune time.

 Inopportune time = a cliff

After he rolled off of me and used my ankle as leverage, he shook it off and grabbed a grassy snack.  Thanks Buddy, anytime you need an ankle you know where I'll be...what a gentlemen.  Thank the Lord above that I was with someone, and that someone was white as a ghost and telling me desperately "Don't move, don't get up."   I tried to get up a shake it off but when I took a step I hit the deck.  Yup, something was definitely not right with my right ankle but the fact that it was broken never crossed my mind.  I guess I imagined breaking a bone to be excruciating and undeniable pain. This was no fun in the sun but I guessed it to be a bad sprain.

I got back on the beast with my foot hanging out of the stirrup, finished the ride and drove myself home with my toes.  I'm still in denial at this point, the enormous amount of swelling is just a mirage. The gnarly red and blue coloring is just my contacts getting dry...I'll stop sleeping in them.  I'll be back on my feet in a few days, I'll ice it when I get home and call it good. 

My denial came to a shattering end when x-rays revealed a fractured medial malleolus the next day at Urgent Care.  It's the fancy term for saying I broke the end of my Tibia where it meets the ankle joint, you know the bony part that sticks out on the inside of your ankle?  Yeah that.  Crack, right off.  This is a photo of what it looked like in the x-ray.  This is not MY x-ray as I was too chicken to ask for a copy but I found someone else's unfortunate break on google that looks just like mine did....except for they have bigger calves than I do.  Just saying, I've got chicken legs...

It doesn't really look like a big deal right?  It ended up being a big deal.  A big, dumb, lame, stupid, freaking sucky deal.  Cast and crutches for six weeks, a boot for four more and then a brace and physical therapy for ever and ever and ever. Seriously?  I cried when my doctor told me all this.  I literally lost it in the exam room because on top of that she told me I couldn't drive either because it just so happened to be my driving leg.  My summer, ruined.  All the weddings, bachelorette parties, and showers I would have to color coordinate my cute dresses...with a big 'ole cast.  Super cute.  Not. 

This was my "swelling" cast.  I had it on for two weeks while my swelling subsided.  If I was grateful for one thing it was that I got a pedicure the day before the fall. I wore this cast with a cute purple dress for a baby shower and got alot of pity compliments.  I'll take what I can get at this point.  During this two weeks I nursed palm callouses from the crutches, learned how to shower on a bucket with my leg in a bag, called on every friend and family member for rides and hated every minute of it, learned that icing the back of your knee helps your ankle swelling, refused narcotics, watched alot of Desperate Housewives, and didn't have to pick up any poop at work. 

This was my second cast that I wore for a month.  This one I paired with a cute black and white dress to a wedding in Lodi that got me so much pity I could cut the sympathy in the air with a knife.  Wearing a cast really gets you noticed...for all you girls who think you need breast implants or short skirts...just get a cast.  It will get every door opened for you and every bag carried for you.  It will not fail to start up a conversation with anyone you come into contact with.  I found myself in the parking lot at the grocery store surrounded by four cute guys all talking about the time they broke their ankles and legs. 

It will also cause your leg to come out like a toothpick and as hairy as a pirate.  The final revealing was not a good moment for me.  If you think I'm going to show you that picture you've lost it. 

Now that I've ditched the casts and buried the crutches, I'm in THE boot.  I can drive again, I can function at a normal level again and my spirits have risen from the gutter.  I can fit my jeans over the boot and that's a wonderful thing.  Of course I did have to wear this...

...to a bachelorette party and although I paired it with cute Hudson jeans and a sexy black sequin top, it really cramped my style and put the kibosh on any dancing that didn't include the robot.  I think I even got a few snickers from girls in mini skirts and sexy heals as they scoffed at the girl in the boot on the dance floor.  Whatev.  Their time will come...and probably from something stupid like tripping over their feet as they do the walk of shame from some dude's hotel room.

An Uncanny Resemblance

It's Idol day...only three left.  Are you excited?

I wish I could say I was, but these kinds of shows only excite my husband.  When they are on, they are ON and the remote is beyond my control.  I actually do enjoy the try-outs for American Idol, I can't get enough.  I'm intrigued and captivated by the different kinds of humans who share this earth with me.  

But back to this seasons American Idol.  There are two reasons why it's been sorta, kinda, maybe a little fun to watch.

The first reasons is that our own home town boy James Durbin represented Santa Cruz for so long in the competition and made it to the final four.  Marissa Miller put us on the map with her hotness as THE Victoria's Secret model to take Giselle's place and now James Durbin pins us up there once again.  I can't say I knew or know him but I did kinda, sorta, maybe a little know his sister Carrie.  Whatever, that counts right?  

 I definitely didn't brave the crowds of over 30,000 people to see him perform at the Boardwalk last weekend like some of my friends did.  Nope, wouldn't see me there.  I have a phobia of crowds over 30.  A unexplainable mid-20's sudden onset phobia.  I can explain it I guess.  Living in a perpetual crowd for five years while away at college in Los Angeles made me come running back to Santa Cruz for solitude and a life where maybe 10 people live on your street rather than within 10 square feet of you.  I like to move and I like to breathe.  Crowds don't offer me these necessities that I find I need more now than I did in college.  Along with sleep and real food. 

What does this fun fact I suddenly decided to share have anything to do with anything?  It doesn't.  Moving on...

The second reason why AI entertains me is this resemblance.  It's absolutely uncanny, mesmerizing and pretty freakin funny. 

Scotty McReery IS the Mad Comic guy.  Minus the missing tooth.  

                                                                 

 Am I the only one who put two and two together on this one? 

It's one of the two reasons I have to close my eyes to watch him perform. What's up with me always having no more or no less than two reasons for anything?  I enjoy his voice but I can't get Mad Comic guy off my brain if he's in my visual.  The other reason is I can't handle the way he holds the micro-phone like a fairy holding a flute and his corny facial expressions make me want to gag.  That was three I guess. I'm cured.  His voice is heaven and I'd love to hear it on the radio because it strongly resembles my Voice Crush, Josh Turner.  Why does that voice have to come out of the Mad Comic guy?  We will never know and I will never be able to watch him live because of it.  I'm sure he's deeply wounded.

 

It Hurts

Isn't she cute.  I love my little fruitbat.  It's an unfortunate comparison but the truth hurts sometimes.  Want another truth that hurts?  A pair of my favorite pajama shorts bit the dust today because of this little creature's taste for undergarments. I mean, I could still wear them....like crotchless panties if I wanted too but instead I shed a salty tear as I threw them out.  Sage, you better sleep with one eye open tonight.

When she does something wrong, she knows it.  Oh yes this little whippersnapper will tell you she did something wrong even before you found the wrong-doing.  I'll come in to the house, take one look at her squinty little eyes, ears flattened to her skull, and go searching the house for a little turd or maybe 5-10 pairs of underwear strewn about like a crotchless pantie extravaganza. 

 

 

I think it's her firm believe that if she can't see me, I in turn, don't see her.  At this point I have kind of lost my steam.  How do you get mad at a little fruitbat who looks sound alseep?

It's when her ears go back that no matter how many newly bought Victoria's Secret underwear are now in her intestinal tract, I can do nothing but laugh.

At the sound of my cackles she comes awake again, she knows the storm as blown over.  The dark threatening clouds have moved north, the violent winds have died down to a whisper, and all is right with the world.

"So everything's cool right mom?"

God calls me to forgive...but I will not forget.  Especially when I reach for those shorts that are no longer there. When I envision that cute paisley print that was last year's spring line...never going to see those again.  When I am forced to go commando and just don't feel right about it. When I shell out $80 at VS to replenish my undergarment drawer.  The truth, it hurts. 

I will not kill this plant.

It will thrive and grow and gather nutrients from the manure enriched soil.  Big blooms will burst forth and make me smile every time I pull up and park in my driveway.  When the plant gets too luscious and burdened with blooms I will take some cuttings and display them in sweet mason jars all over my house.  My neighbors will notice and make comments like "what a beautiful Hydrangea that is" or "my, you sure have a green thumb, looking at your Hydrangea from my front window makes me smile every morning."  All of this could theoretically happen.  Theoretically.  That's the key word.

If I don't kill it.

No one has ever complimented me about my "green thumb."  Ever.  This will change.  Just watch.

I picked up this young Hydrangea Macrophylla at a thrift store across the street from work.  They were having a half off sale and I noticed they had multiple bedraggled looking plants sitting in the baking sun.  The plant was somewhat of a charity case and when I saw it's sad little buds hoping to one day bloom I took pity and snatched it.  Actually I paid $5 for it. 

I mentioned Macrophylla which kind of makes me sound like I know what I'm talking about, it also sounds like some sort of disturbing disorder, but it really means that this particular plant is a "Mophead" Hydrangea. They produce really big circular blooms that I'm absolutely in love with.  I see these flowers in weddings all the time and they are just so elegant and whimsical and they make me want to have them in my life at all times...inside and outside.  Buying this plant will hopefully get me a littler closer to that reality.  Look how beautiful the blooms can be!

 Imagine if I had these blooms and put together something so totally awesome like this.  So sweet and serene.

 Or this?  I'm in love with the simplicity of it as well as the sheer beauty.  No need for greenery or any other flowers.  These babies stand on their own with no problem.

 During Christmas I could even make one of these!!  Wait...do they bloom during Christmas?  Dang. I really wanted a Hydrangea wreath.  I'll just cut this picture out and tape it to my door when the time comes.

I better slow down or my Hydrangea will hide it's flowers from me in fear of being naked all the time.  I promise, I won't pluck you dry right away.  I will practice self control.  Theoretically.  I love that word.

I MIGHT be able to enjoy these wonderful blooms if I can get the thing in the ground at some point.  Hydrangeas are primarily shade plants, however they do like a few hours of morning sun.  I'm having a problem figuring out where to put my little youngster to get what it needs.  Because in order to avoid plant murder, you have to make sure they get what they need.  I think this theory goes towards a lot in life. At first I thought I had the perfect place in the front yard under our deck/walkway leading to the front door.  I assumed it was a pretty shady spot with some sun but after leaving the plant, in it's container, in the proposed spot I nearly scorched the poor thing to death.  I hugged it and told it I would never do it wrong again.  Today it sits by the back door waiting to be put in it's proper home.  You'll be home before you know it little one.

I've got a few little pink faces coming out to say hi, one did not appreciate the sun burn and is looking a little forlorn. 

Most of the others have yet to be born and are marinating in their buds waiting for me to get my shit together and put their mothership in the ground.

Wish me luck in my Hydrangea endeavor.  I will keep you posted.  If you don't get posted than it means the plant has most likely died and gone to plant trash can heaven.  Let's hope my thumb starts turning a light shade of green and that doesn't happen.  I won't be able to handle the thought of being so close to my dream of having hydrangea blooms in my life.  Amen. 

No Other Like Nelson...

Nelson is a force to be reckoned with.  This furry little creature has more personality than 20 dogs put together and keeps showing us more.  The guy is like a gigantic onion, his layers are unending and most the time he makes me want to cry.   He has a ridiculous underbite where one tooth sticks out from the bottom holding his upper lip back in this grimace/smile/snarl depending on his mood.  His moods range from terrible to sweet to adorable and back to terrible again.  He's only terrible to SOME people, I'm not part of that group so I absolutely love the heck out of little Nelson.  If you want the key to his heart, you must know this....high pitch baby talk.  That's what will save your hand or pant leg in a pinch.  Unless you're Brandee...then he hates the air you breathe no matter what octive you can get your voice to reach. 

Nelson is a 5 year-old Pomeranian/Chihuahua mix who came to entertain us at the SPCA after failing his temperament test at another shelter.  We tend to collect the "problem-kids" and have alot of fun with them. 

Recently, I pulled a trick out of Nelson that has been lying dormant for the past month.   A trick we have never seen before.  It's another layer being peeled back.  I was originally trying to get him to sit by using a scrumptious peanut butter treat.  He sat, I gave him a treat.  Then I wanted to try to get a ballerina twirl out of him, because that's obviously the next step right?  When I did a little circular motion with my hand the little lad stopped, dropped and rolled.  I got really excited at that point and made him do 26 more rolls-overs.  The guy was on fire.  I think he probably regrets showing me his circus talent because we had to document it of course...Lisa, my director and Nelson's biggest fan, demonstrates for you.

 After all of his horizontal work Nelson earned himself a desk nap.  How does one work under these conditions? 

Zucchini Banana Bread!

After cleaning out my fridge to prepare for a large grocery run, I noticed I had a few left-over zucchini from an over-zealous vegetable splurge.  They were looking a bit tired and were beginning to form some slime.  I put them on the counter along with my other things that were headed for the trash and moved on.  When I was done I noticed three nearly black bananas hanging out in my fruit bowl.  Gross, gotta toss those too...until I had an idea.  I could make banana bread!  So I gathered all the other non-survivors and headed out to the can.  As I was nearly tossing the zucchini...I had another idea.  I could make zucchini banana bread!  And that's just what I did.

The smell this bread leaves in your house while it's baking is intoxicating...beware.

This is what you'll need: (this recipe makes one big loaf or two mini loaves)

3 large bananas (preferably over-ripe...the blacker the better)

1 cup shredded zucchini (I used two small-medium zucchini and shredded in my food processor...oh and I washed the slime off)

3/4 cup white sugar OR pure cane sugar

1 egg (beaten)

2 cups all purpose flour

1 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp cinnamon

1/2 cups raisins (optional)

1/2 cups nuts (optional)

2 tbs butter (melted)

How to put it together: 

0. Preheat oven to 350

1.  In a medium size mixing bowl, peel your bananas and mash 'em up good. 

2. Shred your zucchini any way you know how.  Food processor works best but if you don't have one I'm sure you could use a cheese grater or do it by hand, just pop on your ipod and go to town.

3. Add the shredded zucchini to the mashed banana along with the sugar and beaten egg.  Mix thoroughly.

4. In another mixing bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon.  Mix thoroughly.

5. Combine the dry mixture with the wet mixture and stir, stir, stir until everything is mixed. 

6. Now it's time to add the melted butter along with any of the optional items (raisins or nuts) Mix. 

7. Poor batter into a greased loaf pan or two mini loaf pans and pop into the oven for an hour.  I usually check it at 45 minutes but it took exactly an hour to be fully done.  Do the toothpick test if you're unsure. 

8. ENJOY the smell as it's cooking and then enjoy it sliced and buttered when it's done!!  YUM!

*Recipe from http://beautyandbedlam.com/zucchini-banana-bread/

Back to Blogging...

I'm back from a small hiatus...it's kind of what I do. What's the lineage of the word "Hiatus"...Greek? Latin? Swahili?  Next time I'm on a google frenzy I'll have to remember to look that up.  I'm hoping that somewhere down the line my consistancy at blogging clears itself up.  These are my hopes.  Even though my following is one...and that's probably my mom...I still like to write and share and post pictures.  I'm sure I'll get a kick out of looking back on it when I'm 80.

What you've missed?  A wonderful trip to Hawaii to see a great friend get herself all married up.  My husband and I had an awesome time except for him contracting some sort of plague (i.e. horrible flu) and being out-of-commission for a good chunk of the time.  That and having to be sick and bed-bound on his 30th birthday while his wife forgets to bring him home dinner really made his trip fantastic.  Aside from that everything was perfect.

Lots of cooking and recipes of which I will soon share.  As we speak the aroma of Zucchini Banana Bread is wafting from my oven.  I hope it tastes as good as it smells.  These are my hopes.  It always feels good to save food from going into the garbage and this recipe helped save the lives of three VERY ripe bananas and two equally ripe zucchini.  I'm all about saving lives. 

Work has been really wonderful.  I'm still in disbelief that I get to go do what I love every single day.  Although some days are a bit weird and when I say weird I mean on the side of freaky.  It's never a dull day at the Santa Cruz SPCA!  That should be our slogan.  Although most weird days involve "different" people...things like this happen on a daily basis...

HIS name is Palomino.  HE is a Chihuahua mix who loves to eat people's sandwiches and put holes in your tights with his nails.  HE also apparently likes to wear wigs and pearls and veiled-hats.  We don't judge around here...it's Santa Cruz.