Posts Tagged ‘Cyndie’
Russian Technician
I finally figured it out. Our cat has a gift like that Russian sleep clinic technician and now everything makes sense. I now understand her crazy obsession of pummeling us with kneading paws in the early morning darkness when we least desire her affectionate attention. Pequenita is the Russian sleep tech from Cyndie’s tales of being tested in a sleep lab years ago.
First, she was told to stay awake for ten minutes while wearing the cap of countless wired sensors. Cyndie describes looking out a window and around the room to pass the time. Looking at a magazine. How hard is it to stay awake for ten minutes? Then the grumpy countenanced Russian technician’s voice came over the speaker and told her to wake up.
“I’m not asleep.” she claims to have said.
But, she was. He saw her fall asleep in about 30 seconds. He made her try again. Multiple times over the 24-hour period of testing, they played that little game. She says she failed every time. What startled her was that she felt like she succeeded every time. She didn’t think she was falling asleep.
This discrepancy of perception worked both ways with her sleep cycle. The objective is to have the patient stay awake when it is time to be awake, and stay asleep when it is time to sleep.
In the morning, Cyndie describes her battle with the Russian technician’s voice over the intercom.
“You need to get up now because you are awake.” His words grabbed her attention.
“I’m not awake. I’m still sleeping.”
“No, you’re not. I can see your brain waves.”
This guy knows what sleeping brain waves and awake brain waves look like. It’s what he does. He could clearly see when her brain woke up.
I don’t think Pequenita is perceiving our brain waves, but I think she detects that same moment when our brains wake up, yet we think we are still sleeping. That is why her treading paws on our heads is so annoying. We are trying to remain asleep. She knows that we are not still sleeping.
I think it is our breathing that she detects. Even though we have no intention of waking up yet, there are moments in the sleep cycle when we transition out of deep sleep to what I would describe as semi-conscious. For me, it is often occurring when one of my arms has fallen incredibly numb and I need to switch positions. There is also the very obvious situation of a full bladder, which I am extremely grateful to be alerted to so I can remedy while maintaining dry sheets. Sometimes, it is a result of a vivid dream experience.
My first guess is that Pequenita hears the change in our breathing as our brains wake up. I expect our body movements are another easy clue.
When she steps on our heads in the early morning hours before we want to wake up, I now think of her as our own little ornery Russian sleep technician letting us know our brains are no longer asleep.
.
.
Mamma Returns
One explanation I have heard for a dog’s overzealous greetings when their masters return from time away is that the absence was interpreted as a death. I believe that theory was based on an interpretation of wolf pack behavior. When a wolf disappeared from the pack, it was generally due to death. The survivors don’t expect to ever see that missing member again.
If that missing wolf does reappear, it’s a miracle! No wonder they would get excited.
As far as Delilah was concerned last night, the mamma who has doted on her for most of her life returned from the dead.
I was careful not to utter the highly recognizable sound of “mamma” to our dog until I saw Cyndie’s car coming up the driveway. I made that mistake one other time when Cyndie wasn’t going to be home for days and Delilah walked over toward the door to the garage and stared at it for so long I began to feel awful.
There was a blur of spinning and some squeaky sounds and a whole lotta love.
“She’s alive!”
My resourceful wife beat me to the punch and ordered her own favorite Gina Maria’s pizza on her drive home from the airport, and since it wasn’t ready when she arrived, took advantage of that time to go grocery shopping.
Gone for over a month, and she walks in the door with dinner and groceries.
Sheltering at home just got a lot less lonely for me.
Welcome home, Cyndie. Welcome home.
.
.
Big Moon
Like my really big yawn at bedtime last night, the latest supermoon was a commanding presence in the evening sky.
That’s about all I saw of it, as my exhaustion knocked me out shortly thereafter for a precious night’s sleep.
Latest word from Cyndie in Florida is that plans are now in place for her return in one week. That might give me just enough time to get the house straightened up from all the wild partying that has been going on in her absence.
I checked with her last night to make sure she wasn’t missing out on the big moon. It was just as big and bright in Florida. Hope you got a chance to enjoy it wherever you are in the world.
.
.
Fly South
Cyndie made plans to spend a couple of weeks with her parents in Florida long before the details of the latest snowstorm had materialized and didn’t guess that her planned departure would be timed smack dab in the worst of the wind and snow. Luckily, the impending weather allowed for a no-charge rescheduling and she nabbed a seat a day earlier, right as the heavy weather was beginning.
That just meant a little delay while the ground crews worked frantically to plow runways and de-ice planes. Not unsettling at all for wary travelers, I’m sure.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Cyndie is a seasoned airline passenger and has been through this routine multiple times, so I’m sure she was able to take it in stride. I can’t honestly attest to her level of confidence because I was not there. No, I am not in Florida today, unlike her and our two adult children visiting their grandparents over the MLK holiday weekend.
More power to them.
While they were enjoying the bocce courts under beautiful blue skies, I had a day filled with a fair amount of folly. I had hoped to swiftly plow, shovel, and rake snow off the roof so I could also entertain the pooch who was otherwise woefully neglected in the warm confines of the house. When I left her tethered outside with me where she could watch, Delilah just sat forlornly.
If I have to ignore her while I work, I decided she might as well be inside where I don’t have to witness her sad face every time I pass.
When I started up the ATV for plowing, I discovered one of the front tires had an audible air leak. It was spitting out some of the green sealer that had been an earlier attempt to solve the problem. All that did was delay the inevitable, it seems. Short of a quick fix to remedy the situation properly, I opted for frequent returns to the shop garage for added air from the compressor.
Worked well enough to get the main driveway open for travel. I would come back later to plow around the barn and hay shed.
After walking Delilah and eating lunch, I raked the valley of the roof over the front door and then unburied the steps. By leaving the rest of the roof for today, my hope was to quickly finish plowing before needing to tend to Delilah’s dinner.
Then the cable that lifts the plow broke in the middle of pushing a deep pile of snow at the edge of the driveway turnoff that drops toward the barn.
The hour before the dog’s dinner was spent rigging a way to lift the blade so I could drive back to the garage so I could work on reattaching the hook to the next section of cable. That’s a project that needs three hands, so with my two cold hands (and one bloody finger) I dragged it out long enough that dinner ended up being late.
Yes, I was thinking about my family who all just flew south.
.
.
Playing Nurse
I am not a nurse, but I am back in nurse-mode for a while because Cyndie had outpatient eyelid surgery yesterday. A procedure that only takes an hour required over four to drive to Stillwater and then wait an hour and twenty minutes for things to start because the patient ahead of her took longer than planned.
Now Cyndie’s convalescence requires extra rest, limited activity, no lifting or bending over, and not rubbing her eyes for at least a week.
She looks a little like she stepped on a rake. Twice.
The procedure sounds a little harrowing in that Cyndie was sedated but conscious and instructed not to move for the entire procedure. That included reaching up to scratch an itchy nose. She needed to ask for help with an itch. Imagine trying not to cough, sneeze, or flinch while someone is holding a knife near your eye.
The surgeon asked for a warning to stop if Cyndie felt a sneeze coming on. It makes me wonder if the urge to sneeze gets suppressed by the sedation or if it could sneak up on a person whose face has been numbed.
I’m glad she didn’t get the hiccups.
We are happy Cyndie’s procedure did commence without complications. Our return home was late enough that darkness had already arrived and Delilah’s dinner was over an hour later than usual. I took her for a walk and we closed up the chicken coop where all the hens were unharmed and safely perched on the roost.
I had clipped Delilah’s leash to a nearby tree while securing the coop and, out of my light beam, she suddenly started barking about something. When I returned to her it was obvious she was fixated on something nearby. When I released the clip she almost dragged me away, except the point she wanted to reach was just a few more steps over.
It was the trunk of a large old maple tree and I’m guessing she spotted a critter –likely a rabbit– disappear into an opening at the base of the tree. Delilah reacted with a frenzied, but futile attempt to attack the fortress. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed such a carnivorous fervor from her, except maybe the one time last summer when she had the lake-neighbor’s dog firmly clamped in her jaws.
Maybe I shouldn’t have let her keep the headless squirrel body she claimed from under a decorative pine tree near the back of our house on a walk earlier in the day yesterday. She was pre-primed to be in full-on predator mode after that.
I’m just distracted by a responsibility to focus on what Cyndie’s needs are during the recovery period. We are both going to work intensely on preventing any involuntary unconscious eye-rubbing when the healing causes itchiness. Doing so could completely defeat the surgical procedure results and the surgeon said that it happens to 1 out of 5 patients!
We don’t want her to be one of the ‘special’ ones.
.
.
Finally
First, I want to point out that there are two special things I haven’t forgotten today. Happy Birthday, Julian! And, Happy Anniversary to Cyndie (and me).
One way I know that we have been married a long time: She sent me an email yesterday, announcing she had signed us up for a community education class on Navigating Social Security.
How romantic.
I chose one of her photographs for a new “Words on Images” composition.
.
.
.
.
Memorable Birthday
Yesterday was Cyndie’s birthday, and she thinks she will remember it for the stormy weather we ventured out into to pick up our kids and join her parents for a nice restaurant dinner in downtown Minneapolis. Tavola was the destination, and man, was the food tasty. I ordered a side of brussel sprouts that were fabulous, if you like brussel sprouts.
The radar looked threatening and the radio warning reports were disturbing, but our drive and our home were spared the worst of the severe weather, despite how ominous it looked as we drove toward Hudson.
That weather front’s bark was worse than its sight. I’m not complaining.
We have no idea how wild conditions were at home while we were at dinner, nor how much the storm riled Delilah. She seemed cool and collected by the time we got home, a couple hours past my bedtime. <yawn>
The other thing Cyndie might remember about this birthday is the surprise egg that showed up in one of the nest boxes.
One of these things is not like the other. That small, shinier egg in the middle is not from one of our chickens.
Who’s been sleeping nesting in my bed nest box!?
There are frequently small bird visitors to the coop throughout the day. Apparently, one of them has been paying attention to the morning activity of the hens and decided to follow suit.
That egg’s not going to make a very large omelet.
UPDATE: 7:26 a.m. 6/5/19
Cyndie just informed me she learned it wasn’t some other bird intruding on the coop, based on new information. It is a “Fairy Egg.”
The learning never stops… It’s all new to me!
.
.
Cooling Off
Despite the wise recommendations toward supporting our broody hens in following their natural instincts, we have chosen to proceed with the process of reorienting them. We want them back with the flock, scouring our acres to control pesky flies and ticks, and providing unequaled eggs as an added benefit.
It’s what these girls were raised to do.
Based on all those images of “Broody Breakers” I viewed on Friday, and seeing the costs for a new crate to do the job, I figured we had enough raw material lying around to make one ourselves. I’ve still got leftover scrap lumber from when we took apart scores of pallets to build the chicken coop.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
First, I built a frame for legs, then we folded up some fencing that we reclaimed from around the willow tree in the paddock, where it had been protecting the bark from gnawing horses.
As I understand it, the goal is to bring the hen’s body temperature back to normal, which will swing their hormones out of the broody drive and get them back to their old selves. The open bottom and sides allow maximum air to flow, which is purported to do the trick after about two days of caged confinement.
They only got a short visit yesterday, before we had to return them to the coop for the night, but it went reasonably well, for a couple of hens who wanted nothing but to return to the nest box each had claimed, whether it had eggs, or not.
This morning, they seemed noticeably more accepting of their temporary confines. They had more interest in the food today, which is something they tend to forego when in the brood.
It will be very satisfying when we are finally able to put them out with the rest of the hens and not have them immediately bolt for the coop. Every time they try to return, it will cost them another day in the broody breaker.
It seems like a sad way to treat hens that are behaving maternally on Mother’s Day, but at the same time, it is Cyndie’s maternal instinct that has us working to cool them off.
Here’s to the mother of my children, and to all mothers today, for the love you shower upon your children (and pets), and for also sharing that love with the rest of the world!
.
.
Yes Indeed
It might be cold outside still, but that isn’t stopping Cyndie from forging ahead with her great wardrobe transition to the warm season. After work yesterday, I walked in on a disaster in the bedroom. It looked like the dresser had gotten sick and thrown up.
I don’t understand how that drawer ever contained all of the contents that were now unceremoniously regurgitated up out of it and spilled onto the floor.
Yes, indeed, warm weather can’t be far off now. Winter socks are getting stowed, and shorts and t-shirts will soon find a place in these drawers.
*************
In an update on our oddly behaving Wyandotte, Cyndie reports the hen is agreeing to take sips of electrolyte-enhanced water, but otherwise still chooses to isolate herself in a nest box. She doesn’t appear to be getting any worse, so we are continuing to let her be and will watch to see what each new day brings.
If she hangs on long enough, maybe she will be able to come out and enjoy a period of several warm days in a row. I saw a prediction that it might happen as soon as next week.
We are looking forward to that. Yes, indeed.
.
.
First Flowers
That didn’t take long. A day after the new green of freshly sprouting leaves appeared on the raspberry bushes, the first flowers of the season blossomed on the forest floor.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I don’t actually know what kind of flowers they are. Searching flower images brought me to Wood Anemone as a close possibility, yet I never found results that definitively matched ours.
Cyndie is home again this morning. She arrived to a stack of packages and mail that arrived while she was away. Her rummaging around last night after midnight woke me up. Those packages? She whispered that she hadn’t ordered any of them.
A week earlier, while she was in Florida with her parents, she received notice from her credit card company, checking on purchases. Cyndie still had possession of her card, but hadn’t used it while in Florida. The fraudulent purchases were being made over the internet. So, how does credit card fraud work when you order online? Couldn’t authorities just check where the packages are sent?
Well, not in this case. The fraudster had the items sent to our address.
Huh?
The last place Cyndie had used the card was at the airport parking lot. Getting out again was a trick, because she had canceled the card earlier in the week, as soon as they notified her of the unauthorized purchases. How do you get your car out of the ramp a week later?
Apparently they have a plan for that. Must happen often enough. There is a button you can push for help. The voice told Cyndie that, since she still had possession of the card, she could swipe it to get the amount owed, and then use a second card to pay.
What is making much less sense to us is, the credit card company’s response about our receiving the packages from the fraudulent purchases. An agent told Cyndie, “This happens all the time” in reference to purchasing goods and having them sent to the card holder address. I’m guessing she misunderstood what Cyndie was asking.
I know fraud happens all the time. I don’t see why thieves would frequently order goods they don’t receive.
Cyndie was told she needed to return the items, or would be charged, but the agent didn’t have a good answer about how we get the return shipping paid for by someone other than us. At this point, even the conversation with the VISA agent was sounding shady.
Cyndie had immediately reported the activity as fraud and canceled the card. Seems to me that nothing after that point should be her responsibility.
I suppose the whole charade could simply be a way to prank someone. Three identical, extra-large hoodie sweatshirts. Makeup. Perfume. Shoes. A dress.
We’re not laughing.
.
.
Relative Something 