Build a Garden

Did you know our house, although "connected" to the city sewer (which we've been billed since we've moved in) has not one, but *two* septic tanks?  How fun for us to discover!  Our drain lines are completely backed up and it turns out we have a sump pump that pumps our waste from a 4" pipe to 2" pipe to a 1.5" pipe to the main city sewer line, *after* going through our *two* septic tanks.

I will say the waste water management crew for the city of Sedro-Woolley are fantastic.  We've been fortunate here that city employees go above and beyond in their helpfulness with building codes for the garage (adjusting our building plans or signing off on not-quite-code construction) and now with the sewer.  The waste-water crew brought out their city truck and sucked all the ick out of the drain lines before Hans had to work on them.  They also sucked the scuzz out of the tanks some.  They used their little camera attachment through the pipes to tell where everything was for the digging, so Hans (with me helping a little) knew exactly where to dig instead of randomly choosing spots in the yard until we found the mess.

So we dug a trench to reroute the sewage line around tank #1 and connect it directly to tank #2.  Hans then replaced the pump with a working one and reconnected everything back to the city line.  So fun (or not) to go 24 hours without being able to flush during my m.c.  I am so thankful for my neighbors.

Even Pip got in the shoveling action by helping us fill in the trench once the pipe was put down.  Her little spadefuls were quite helpful.  With each one, she told us how she was helping "build a garden."  "Abby, look!  Abby!  Abby!  I help build a garden."  Ooo-kaay, digging in the dirt = garden.  She is such a cute, filthy helper.

Dog

I've known we'd eventually get a dog.  Hans and I discussed it exhaustively and yet, even though we know the timing is so very, very wrong, we are now the proud owners of a dog.  I suppose my obsessive searching/researching didn't make waiting until we moved a real prospect.  Seeing pictures of dogs needing homes through craigslist and various shelters gave me a better idea of what we were wanting in appearance and had me researching breeds. 

Saturday morning had us checking out a dog who was just not right for us.  She was adorable, but she didn't seem all that interested in us.  The lady at the Alternative Humane Society of Whatcom County mentioned later that she thought the kids just weren't into the puppy, but she doesn't know my kids.  Besides, examining a dog in a busy parking lot at lunch time isn't the best way to get to know an animal, especially when it's a highly distractable puppy with no concept of its name and little to no training.  I have enough training to do with Pip! 

The kids were disappointed when I said I really didn't think the female was right for our family.  Abby was so sure she was...but she's been sure with every dog we've checked out, not that there has been too many.  When we were home, Mom starts checking out adopt-a-pet dogs.  I show her the NOAH site I'd been regularly watching (NOAH is this great no-kill shelter not far from here in competition for a $100,000 grant and has to adopt out 1,000 animals or something between August 1 and October 31).  Mom said she wanted to see one I thought looked interesting when I saw him the night before.  When she saw his face, she started squealing how we needed to go meet him (she squawked even more when I confirmed the shelter was on her way back to PDX.  Papa and I both were trying to get her to bring it down a notch or twenty).
 
So we went.  It's hard to say 'no' to Mom when she squeaks like that.  The dog, dubbed 'Bear', was at a Petco for an adoption event.  By the time I walked into the store, Mom was already on the floor hugging the little boy.  She was completely in love with him ages before the kids or I could even get close enough to see what he looked like in person.  Papa took his picture to send Hans and I was already pretty sure he was coming home us.  Papa finally looked at me and said, "If you don't get him, I will."  That did it.  'Bear' licked cats, loved the kids and just leaned on Mom.  I really couldn't ask for a much sweeter dog.  Even if he is a boy, although the NOAH guy pointed out that since he's neutered, he's not really a boy anymore...

'Bear' is now Harvey Tiberius Weber.  He's a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon mix (or not a mix), about a year old.  Did Oma just not know of this breed?  I would have had one years ago if I had known about them.

Homework

I have two kids who do homework now.  Both are sitting at the table doing their first official homework.

Eli is excited to work on his spelling homework and is supposed to write each spelling word three times.  His page is numbered one to ten with three blank lines following each numeral.  "Is this how you spell 'one'?" he asks.  I look at his paper to see he has spelled W-O-N.  I explain how yes, it does, but not the number.  I double-check with him that he understands he is to copy his word list (on the blue paper) and write the words three times.  He says he does.  We erase W-O-N and I let him be.  After a short bit, he asks, "Is this how you spell 'two'?"  I look at his writing again to see he's written O-N-E three times following the number and has written T-O-W on the first line following the two.  I point to his blue sheet again and confirm he knows the words listed are his spelling words.  After numbering his spelling words so he can simply copy them over easier, I leave him be again.  A few minutes later, he says he's done and I go to check his work.  He's filled the lines with the number they correspond with (1. ___1___  ___1___  ___1___ ).  Poor guy still doesn't get it!  I calm him down, erase his page, and sit next to him to tell him each word to write.  Fourth time's a charm, right?  It'd be easier without Abby giggling.

Kitty

We have a new kitty!  Her name is Pip and she is a bit noisy and mischievous.  She meows constantly...through every show, every activity, every room.  Sometimes she snuggles with us and we get to pet her.  Other times, she hits or bites or pounces, shrieking her meows.  Our kitty Pip dislikes using the toilet as much as our Hazel!  Kitty Pip sings, refuses to wear clothing, and even dances.

This new kitty of ours has made me miss our Abby turtle.  Abby turtle was at least quiet, albeit incredibly slow climbing our stairs into our tiny, second-floor apartment.  Fantastically slow.  Insanely slow.

I love my girls.

Everyone Needs A Hazel

Pip is sick.  The past two nights have been pretty miserable with her waking up crying and screaming often in the night with a slightly croupy cough and itchy eye.  We took her to the doctor yesterday since her eye continued to be weepy in case it was pink eye (the doctor gave us a prescription because of the three-day weekend, but was pretty sure it was just a virus that will pass). 

So in our infinite wisdom as parents, we opted to try the "tylenol might help her feel better" approach since she seemed warm and was definitely aching and uncomfortable.  Her response would make one think we were trying to poison her!  Each dosing (of the chewable, sweet grape sugary variety) was a drag out fight with her screaming, spitting it out, growling at us and working herself into hysterics.  I'm not exaggerating.  Last night, we spent three hours trying to convince her to eat the dang thing.  She had a fever and was beyond grumpy.  Three hours of shrieks, screams, NOs and tears.  We tried bribing her with a tic-tac if she ate it.  Finally, I thought to give some to Abby (who also had a legitimate reason for medicine).  I had Abby s-l-o-w-l-y eat the first of the two.  Hazel intently studied her every expression, every movement she made to make sure it wasn't a trick.  Only after determining Abby really did find the medicine okay to eat did she also eat hers.  Pip even said it tasted good when she was done. 

This morning, we had to start all over again with the tears and screaming.  The dang medicine tastes like grape cotton candy.  I just don't get it.  No amount of bribery will work.  She licks her finger and touches it to just keep tasting it, but won't eat it.  Stubborn, stubborn twit.  Finally after having a time out in her room for throwing it and her dish on the floor, she says she'll eat it...and she does...s-l-o-w-l-y...tiny broken piece by tiny broken crumb.  So hope she's fine in a couple hours when it wears off so we don't have to go through this again.