Monday, May 31, 2010

Memorial Day 2010


It's Memorial Day. Time to remember our fallen heroes that served in the military. Actually, we should remember everyone in the service of our country: Those who work in our embassies and consulates, report the news, or work at other occupations overseas. They are all--and have been--targets at one time or another. Many have been kidnapped and held for ransom, murdered, or imprisoned (just because they were Americans). But when one thinks about it, those selfless people who put on the uniform and follow orders knowingly put themselves at risk. They've taken an oath to protect our country, an oath that is backed up by literally putting themselves in harm's way.


My dad, James Harold Keller, was one of those. He was a Staff Sergeant with the U.S. Army in Korea, 9th Infantry Regiment, E Company, 2nd Infantry Division. He was killed on November 26, 1950. I was told he did some intelligence work for the Army. I don't know exactly what that means, I was only a few months old when he was killed. His jeep ran over a landmine. All they found were his glasses and his wallet. At least that's what they shipped back home to my mom.


Dad was a veteran of World War II--and a career soldier. He'd seen a lot of action in the big war and wasn't ready to go back for more. He'd married my mother only a couple of years earlier. Now he had a family. But maybe that's why he went so willingly to that ghastly conflict. To defend America, to defend us, Mom and me. I'd like to think so, anyway. There have been so many times I would have loved to have known him; so many times I could have used his fatherly advice. Oh well, he gave all so that the rest of us could go about our lives, post blogs, blast the president, bear arms, and raise kids who litter their sentences with the word 'like.'

My dad was from Searcy County, Arkansas. They have a huge monument there with his and other names on it--for those who served in Korea and other wars. I guess it's a fitting monument for one with no grave to visit or lay flowers upon. They gave him the Bronze Star (back when a soldier had to actually see combat to be eligible). Oh, I forgot to mention, in 2005, South Korea also awarded my dad a beautiful medal. They sent it to me, his next of kin. It is baby blue, white, and lime green with the yin-yang symbol in royal blue and red like what is on the South Korean flag. It is in a special frame with the Army insignia and his picture. That medal reminds me of how much he was appreciated, not just by his own country, but by another for his ultimate sacrifice.


Memories overtake me... memories of my stepfather, David Hutton, who also served in the Army, and as my 'other' father. He taught me a lot, probably more than most stepfathers would have. But he was not my father. He was my brothers' father. Alex and Andrew were luckier than I in at least one aspect. They knew him. They knew his faults as well as his virtues. I only know about my own father from what my mother has told me. That he was a light drinker (3 beers was over the top for him!), that he had cataracts and had to have eye surgery, that he was crazy about me, that he was a good, good man who deeply loved his wife, his daughter, and his country. He was also a very handsome man (don't you think?).


My mother astonished me one evening a few years back. She said when she looked at my youngest son, Russell, sometimes she saw my dad--saw his brow and his nose and the curve of his mouth, and when the light hit just right, and his head was turned in a certain way, it took her breath away. Now I look at Russ a little differently, too.


Today is the day to remember all our heroes: The wounded, the shell-shocked, the ones who've brought the war back with them and can't sleep at night, and the ones will never come home to loved ones again. Yes, even in far-off wars where sometimes our reasons for being there seem vague and illogical, they still gave, they still served their country, without question. Whether or not you support the war they are fighting is not the point. The point is this: Our troops epitomize, stand for, and shoulder the strength of America. They are the chip on Uncle Sam's shoulder. They are the reason we are able to enjoy our barbecues, our family, our friends, and everything this wonderful country has to offer.


Thanks, Dad, for your sacrifice. But I still would liked to have had you for a little while longer. I would liked to have gotten to know you. But then you were the career soldier, the one who put on the uniform and followed orders on that snowy November day in Kujang, so the rest of us could live in peace.

To our military men and women, I salute you and thank you.

Hoo-Rah!

Sunday, May 16, 2010

The Problem with Morgans


For those of you who know me, you also know that I have a beautiful black Morgan mare named Midnight Beauty. She was 12 years old on March 26th. When she was 10--almost to the day--in March of 2008, she suddenly couldn't walk. It was horrible. Imagine yourself trying to walk in shoes that are 2 sizes too small, and you'll get an idea of how hard it was for her. She was suffering from a chronic onset of laminitis, a condition that, if serious enough, can kill.
Fortunately, the x-rays showed no rotation of her coffin bone. OK. That was good news. Putting her on thyroid medication also helped.
Well, it's been 2 years since laminitis first reared its ugly head. In the meantime, she has had several bouts that would last for anywhere from 2 weeks to 3 months. In laminitis, you can't just treat the symptoms (hot, swollen feet with bounding pulses). You have to treat the cause, too. And for Beauty, it was food, or I should say, sugar.
Morgans are 'easy keepers.' They can live on air, for Pete's sake. So one of the first things we did was put her on a diet (in addition to thyroid medication). No more grazing on rich Spring grass. We tried using a muzzle on her, but she's been dubbed a 'Houdini' horse; she can finagle her way out of anything. We finally put her in a dry lot with several other mares. And we switched her to good ol' Teff hay... a low sugar grass hay from Ethiopia, no less! She lost around 100 pounds, which was good, since she was a little too fat anyway.
For her hot, swollen feet, I showered her legs and feet twice a day with 20 minutes of cold running water, for days at a time. Then, because her feet got 'soft' from so much water, I finally found some neat cold leg wraps (the kind with the 'ice' sewn in) that helped (from the Schneiders catalog) . We also gave her bute (phenylbutazone) and sometimes banamine for the inflammation, but cautiously. We didn't dose her more than 3 days in a row for fear of colic. She would get some comfort for a while, but then the on/off cycle was hard on her. Then came her 'slippers,' the Soft Ride boots. These were a God-send (thank you Lynn Seeley!). They came with heavy duty cushions inside balistic nylon 'shoes' and strapped on to her feet with Velcro (another gift from the gods!). With those, she could walk a lot easier. Barefoot, she could hardly walk at all without stumbling--her feet were that sore. Did I mention hand-walking her? Oh, geez, did we ever walk!
Well, eventually she got over those bouts--3 pairs of Soft Rides later at around $145 a whack! And Lynn, her farrier and an expert with the laminitic horse, took excellent care of her.
For a while she was pain free. But then she was stricken again in late January.
Why? Brenda Armitage and I kept asking ourselves (Brenda is the barn manager at Little Wing Stables where Beauty is boarded). Then we thought that maybe it might be her hormones. We were doing everything we possibly could, weren't we? We cut down her sugar intake, she lost weight, we put her on various supplements (B&L Solution and Probiotics to help her digestion).
OK. I was frustrated. There had to be more to these episodes. Despite all our efforts, though, she was still afflicted.
My beautiful horse couldn't be ridden any more. And my dreams of breeding her evaporated. Her feet just could not support the extra weight. I bought a cart and harness in hopes that it would give her the exercise she so badly needed. We took lessons with Roger Cleverly who was impressed with Beauty's instant take to pulling a cart. Things seemed hopeful last fall and I was looking forward to spring.
But in late January she came down with another case, this time, her whole body reacted. Her muscles tightened, and she walked haltingly, stiffly, almost as if she had arthritis, too.
What's a girl to do? I was determined to get to the bottom of Beauty's problems.
I called Dr. Wendy Weiberg, the vet. Again. We talked. Hormones? Maybe, but probably not. Cushings? We'll see, she said. Long story short: She ran several blood tests, including one to see if there were any tumors pressing on her glands. Every single one of them came back normal, except ONE. Her insulin/glucose levels were off the charts, the worst she'd ever seen.
Brenda and I looked at each other in amazement. What else could we do that we hadn't already done? One thing was clear, though, Beauty had an excess of sugar in her blood.
In the early days of her treatment, we switched Beauty to a feed that would replace some of the minerals and vitamins that she would otherwise get in regular grass or hay. We worried about her getting enough selenium, among other things. I looked at the bag again, it had grain and molasses in it (Stage 1 LMF feed) a no-no. OK. I took her off that immediately and then hit the Internet and did some research on the LMF website. LMF makes feeds for every type of horse, including horses like Beauty who have problems with sugar. The last resort, it seemed, was to put her on LMF Complete formula, designed to replace hay completely.
So, on their recommendation, I switched her to 5 pounds of LMF Complete Feed in the morning with NO hay, and 6 pounds of LMF Complete Feed in the evening with a half flake of hay SOAKED for a minimum of 30 minutes. The soaking reduces the sugar content by about 30-40 percent. Not bad. In addition to her thyroid medication, I also put Beauty on a minimum of 3000 units of Vitamin E, increased her Probiotics from 1 scoop to 2, and now give her half a Previcox pill in the morning to keep the inflammation down. (Previcox was originally meant for dogs, but works very well on horses ... some say better).
And guess what? She is now fit, fantastic, pain free, and flying around the round pen (she still has to be urged to exercise, but don't we all?). She also looks a little like a race horse now with that very trim belly all tucked nicely underneath. Of course, all this progress is not without cost. I've spent a boatload of money trying to get her where she is today. But she is worth it ... every penny!
So, if you have a horse with laminitis, you won't have to experiment like I did. Save yourself some time and money, and save your horse the pain. Print out this blog. Horses with certain genes seem to have these kinds of problems at around age 10 or so. If your horse is a Morgan, you can bet you'll probably need this later. Let's hope you don't!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Double Dipping

Another birthday gone. Just like that. Where does the time go? This year, my birthday was on Mother's Day. Some say I double-dipped. Well, who cares? I'm a mom. I had a birthday. So what?

I got clothes again for my 'special day.' I have many 'special days' throughout the year, as a lot of women do, starting with Valentine's Day, followed by a wedding anniversary, birthday, mother's day, and later, Christmas. And I get clothes. Lots of clothes. From Sam's... always Sam's (or I should say my husband alternates between Sam's and Costco). Well, at least he's predictable.

I knew what to expect, especially when I saw that box. Still, I couldn't resist a heavy sigh when I opened my birthday present from him. It was wrapped in beautiful paper of pink and lavender and blue that I bought for a friend's birthday last April. Stuck to the corner was a baby blue, ready-made stick-on bow that was 'way too small for the rest of the box. Yep, when I peeled back the paper, the all too familiar red-top stared wearily back at me. (I have personal knowledge that it had housed several Christmas gifts going back as far as 2007, as well as this year's anniversary gift to me.) It had an abundance of creases and gouges from where multiple applications of tape had been applied and then ripped off during the unwrapping process (think the waxing scene in the movie, "The 40 Year Old Virgin" and you get the idea). The once pretty red top was now scarred, it's patina stripped away from too many unwrappings. It sagged in the middle, too, a sign of over-use and my husband's good intentions to recycle all things 'box.'

Imagine my surprise when, inside I found three casual tops: A gingham button-down, and two colorful, you-can-find-me-in-the-dark pullover tops, all very much appreciated. And two pairs of god-awful cropped pants. Ugh. I hate those as they are MOST unflattering. But they'll do fine for our camping trip this summer.

My husband has good intentions and I love him. I love that he bought me a birthday gift. I can always count on him getting me clothes, though, despite the fact that I'm trying to lose more than just a few pounds. Getting clothes in the Extra Big, and Extra Extra Big sizes always reminds me of how far I still have to go. This dieting stuff is hard, especially at my age, but I've come down a size since February--not as fast as I'd like, but good enough, I guess.

Just once, though, I'd like to get something other than clothes that come out of the bins at Sam's Club. I know it sounds as though I'm complaining... and I guess I am--sort of. But then I think: What can he get me that I don't already have? Jewelry? I've collected plenty over the years, and I hardly wear what I've got. Books? Hey, anyone who knows me knows I have had to give away books lately to make room in our little house. What, pray tell, do I want? Well, a gift card works great... anywhere will do. Since it is fly season, I could use a gift card to one of the local feed stores as Beauty, my horse, goes through about 6 bottles of fly spray every summer. And I've dropped hints that one of my favorite plants needs a bigger pot... to no avail. And my cell phone is on life support.

Oh well, I did get a promise of an afternoon out to a favorite movie with all the 'trimmings' to which I am really looking forward to. Thanks, Raymona and mom for that very welcomed gift. I haven't been to the movies since ... I can't remember. I really need a break.

So, hubby, if you read this, know that I love you very much, even for all your predictability. And predictability is good, I guess. Stability in a marriage is a good thing. I'm not up to surprises, or spontaneous, or impromptu, or anything that upsets or interrupts my very balanced but busy life.

As for the gifts, that old adage is true. It is the thought that counts... And it really is, because it means I'm still here, still making a fuss, still writing, still loving and learning. I treasure all those 'thoughts' as I hope those who receive mine do, too.

So spread the word ... or thoughts, if you will. Drop an email, e-card, or a real card to a friend or loved one (for no reason at all), or help someone you see who needs help (hold the ladder for someone who's just now taking down his Christmas lights, or if you're on the way to the store, ask your elderly neighbor if you can pick up anything for them, or help them carry in their groceries ... it doesn't have to be a BIG investment in time or money).

Be UNpredictable. Be helpful. Be kind. I've heard that change does NOT start not from the inside, as most people think, but from around the edges. Imagine that. A thought here, a helpful hand there, and voila! One thing leads to another. Commit random acts of thoughtfulness (or kindness), predictable or not. It doesn't matter. It means that you acknowledge the existence of another person, you see them, whether they're a loved one or a stranger (no matter their beliefs, ideologies, color, etc.), it doesn't really matter. All of us exist in a tenuous, unfair, and sometimes ugly world that is so big and vast that our reason for being sometimes gets lost in just trying to live, day to day, week to week, year to year. Acknowledgement from another person means there is hope, that our lives have meaning beyond the realities of a harsh and sometimes unbalanced world; we exist. And we exist, or should I say thrive on the little joys in life. So reach out. It really, truly, absolutely is ... the thought that counts. It could mean all the difference in the world.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Novel In Progress

What a week. Busy is not the word for it. More like running around in circles with one foot nailed to the floor. However, I was able to give my new book The Last Conquistador, some deep thought and have decided to make a few revisions to the story. Instead of present-day, it will take place in the 1960s. I did this because of all the new-fangled, electronic gadgets. They really do put a damper on building suspense and intrigue. If Parker (my protagonist) wanted to let his mom know he would be late coming home (in the first chapter), all he would have had to do was pick up his handy dandy little smart phone. Yeah. But all that convenience just doesn't work in my stories. My goal is to write classic-type, old-fashioned, (mostly) set in reality, stories about teens. A little romance, a little intrigue, maybe even a little life and death. But gadgets? I don't think so. At least not in my new book.

We've become such a gimme-it-now society, that the virtue of patience has given way to smart phones, Twitter, and e-books; a society that wants--expects--instant gratification, and it's not just limited to getting information. Material things are on the list, too, and have been for far too long. That refrigerator that mom and pop saved to get 'way back when--and it took 'em six months to save the cash--has given way to "buy now and pay later" mentality. And we've adopted that attitude in just about everything. Setting lofty goals and waiting for the benefits has largely gone the way of the "get-it-now" mentality. Hopefully, these hard economic times, which have been fueled by the abuse of credit and greed, will help people re-set their ideas about money and material things. Nevertheless, the hunger grows for information, and rightly so. Being ignorant in this day and age could cost you.

The e-gizmos, e-gadgets, smart phones, and the like, are here to stay. So it is for that reason that I am taking Parker Ulysses Penneworth out of the 21st century and putting him back in the days of Fonzie, the days when I grew up, with all the obstacles, angst, and frustrations of the time.

My first book, Desperado Moon is set in present day. Because of the setting (rural ranchlands in California), I never referenced cell phones and the like, but it worked. I guess a lot of folks were right. It is a modern day western.