Deck of Doom

My cousin's little 23 month old, Mick (he is indeed also a mick, but that is a racial slur and I wouldn't call someone a 23 month old mick unless that was his name) was over on Mother's Day.  I was working on getting a DVD to play for him and he walked over and picked up my crutch from its place against a wall.  He dragged it over to me and was very insistent that I take it from him.  I figured it was a game until I realized that for Mick's entire cognizant life, I've been on crutches.  Seeing me without one freaked him out.  How sad is that?

(Mick is incredibly cute but I won't post his picture.  I've been hard at work investigating a crazy internet hoax involving a 22 year old stealing pictures from random people and using them to pose as the family of a young cancer patient.  Fun stuff.)

Finally good news, you guys!  My hip is feeling so much better.  Yesterday I vacuumed for the first time since November of 2010 and I practically cried.  The pain is 80% better and I only have to use a crutch occasionally.  I'm finally feeling like a normal human being again.  Six or eight more weeks of rehab (two muscles are still messed up) and I'm turning the page on this whole mess.

Sidenote: (and I am not on drugs, not even painkillers, so this isn't drug induced psychosis) I realized I was destined to have this injury.  I tore three muscles off my right hip.  My name is TARYN.  As in tearing.  Last name?  Wright.  As in right hip.  Middle initial?  H.  It's all there, people, like Lincoln's secretary Kennedy and vice versa.

The sprained ankle is better.  You have no idea how much everyone at physical therapy made fun of me for injuring the good leg.  It's annoying more than anything else because it swells up, but it doesn't hurt so I win again.

HOW IN THE WORLD DO PEOPLE HAVE FOOT FETISHES?  I try not to judge, but I can understand wanting to be an adult baby more than I can liking feet.  Ick ick ick.

My dad came for dinner last night.  He was sitting on the deck with Cooper and when I looked out I saw this.

He had knocked down a portion of the railing in order to have a better view of the yard.  I wanted to get this documented as evidence in my defense when I'm charged with Elder Abuse.  So between one deck eating my leg and this deck being desecrated so my dad didn't have to strain his neck, it's time for some major construction to start happening around here.

(Don't worry, I'm not attempting to do it myself.  Can you imagine the injury possibilities?)

Aunt Taryn's House of Extreme Danger

You know you had a totally killer party when, five days later, the chalk drawings are still covering your driveway.

I hosted my first big party at the new place on Mother's Day.  When my cousins and their children arrived, I happily greeted them, "Hey kids!  Hope you like facial scars!"  Cooper crept around the outskirts of the party like a lion on the Serengeti stalking his prey.  (Okay, not really, but I was a little worried his face biting reputation would ruin the party.  Not so, everyone was firmly in Cooper's corner on this one).

My new house is on a creek, a slow moving creek that runs through several golf courses in town.  As a result, it's filled with something that resembles "water" but might be, in reality, something closer to what Madame Curie studied back in the day.  All day long, the parents yelled at the kids to stay away from the creek.  I think they were either afraid of an accidental drowning or of someone falling in and their skin turning green like the Hulk.

Since it was a beautiful day, most of the party ended up on one of the two decks looking out into the backyard.  Who wouldn't want to see a possible toxic chemical accident involving children, after all?  My cousin's husband, an engineer, apparently quietly warned everyone that the deck had seen better days.  I knew it eventually needed to be replaced but figured I'd get to that next year.  Rolling my eyes, I pretty much ignored the advice from Dave the engineer.  After all, what did he know?

The party was a big success.  Nobody drowned or had their DNA altered (as far as I know- I believe that's why you pay for home insurace anyway).  The next day, I went outside to water the flowers I had planted in pots on the deck and I fell right through.  (Well, at least one foot did).

Good news: it was my right foot and my bad hip wasn't damaged or anything. 

Just a bad sprain, confirmed in the emergency room.  I have an air cast, two crutches again for a couple more days and a priceless picture of my father to cherish forever.

So basically in summary the house is trying to kill me.  I blame one of my dear cousins, who has been telling me from the start that the place was haunted.  Technically, she told me that even when I was going to buy a different house so it may have something to do with her not wanting me to be in the suburbs, but maybe her psychic powers are still developing.

This mysterious envelope and message arrived in my mailbox the Friday before The Porch Incident.

I can't say I wasn't warned! 

Biting the Bully

Apparently I horrified all of you with pictures of Cooper's birthday extravaganza the other day.  Sorry about that.  At least I didn't post pictures of the bloody injury pre-ER repair like my sister Kerry did, much to the dismay of her friends and my dog's reputation.  

Seriously, could this face possibly be guilty in this scuffle?  Come on.

Kerry is the type of person who only learns a lesson the hard way.  She takes an odd delight in messing with animals.  Since I brought Cooper home eight years ago, she's laughed and laughed at the way he growls when she pretends to eat out of his food dish.  She also likes to bite down lightly on his lip.  Yes, you read that right.  The only shocking thing about the situation is that it was the first time she's been bit by an animal.

Poor Kerry learned not to mess with animals and food.  She had to go out and meet her new girlfriend's friends on Saturday night with five stitches in her lip.  It's healing really well, though, and the stitches come out tomorrow.  It doesn't even look like she's going to have a scar.  I'm happy about that because you just know she'd use that to get me to bend to her will.

Cooper won't be attending family parties for a while.  He's never shown any sign of aggression towards people before but this incident makes me nervous.  Maybe he's getting to a crotchety age where he's a little more sensitive.  He did start on Glucosamine this week.  Ahh, the joys of being 63 in dog years.

We were leaving the ER on Saturday when Annie texted me.  Kerry had sent her pictures of the cake right before the big bite happened.  I read the text out loud to Kerry and she's the one who came up with this reply.  

Originally I was going to post my recipe for dog cake.  I was proud of coming up with making four mini loaves and arranging them in the shape of a bone.  However, on Saturday night, hours after the big Birthday Biting, I stepped in a large puddle of dog vomit that smelled exactly like the cake.  I don't know if it was stress or my baking, but either way, I'm not sure you want to replicate this experience for your animals' birthdays in the future.  

Kerry Learns a Lesson, or Cooper's 9th Birthday

Story to follow but the photo essay was too perfect not to let stand on its own.

My New House is the Final Frontier

Hello and greetings from the outskirts of civilization!  I say that because after two attempts by Comcast, we still can't get internet at the new place.  Apparently it isn't close enough to any cable source.  They are coming back today to survey the property (hopefully on horseback!) and see if running a new wire is worth it for my $40 a month.  Keep your fingers crossed because I've been going to my parents' at 5:30 AM to work and I think they're going to change the locks.

(Yes, I know about DSL and other options but I need really fast download and upload speeds to work.  Heavy sigh.)

Okay, before I go on with my drivel, I made this recipe from Skinny Taste last night.  Cheesy Jalapeno Popper Baked Stuffed Chicken.  Oh my gosh, you guys.  You'd never be able to tell that it's a light recipe.  My roommate loved it, even though I had to make hers gluten free.  She was amazed and kept asking me how I hollowed out a chicken breast.  I let her believe, much like my family tried to make her believe in Santa Claus until she was a teenager.  But try this one!  You'll thank me.

Speaking of my dear sister, life with her is occasionally like living in one of those worksheets you did in kindergarten where you had to circle the dangerous mistake in the picture.  I went downstairs to do laundry and saw that she had found the perfect place to hang up her shoe holder- on the back of the laundry room door so that it conveniently touched the furnace.  I half expected to turn around and see an ax next to the baby's crib and eggs kept on the counter for storage.  If the house burns down, you people know who to blame.

That's Cooper in the room that I've devoted to napping.  You know life is exciting when you have a nap room.

We are also having some exciting plumbing issues so the first floor bathroom can't be used for a couple more days.  Holy smokes have I gotten good at holding it.  TMI, sorry.  Anyway, hopefully that's just an anomaly and not the work of poltergeists.  One of my darling cousins wasn't happy about me moving to the suburbs and she is continuing her campaign to convince me that the house is haunted.  She sends me texts like "I wonder if the house knows you're coming?" and "So it begins..." and occasionally just texts me the names of scary movies like "The Strangers."  I laughed it off until I saw the fog in the backyard last night.

Greetings from Amityville.  Hope you're all doing well.