This Land is Nerlens

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Paul and Betty at Alix’s house on our post-wedding drive up the coast, 2009

We’ve had mice in our house for a few weeks.  We thought they were confined to the guest room (sorry Jen, didn’t tell you about that.)  We put a bunch of (humane) traps out for a week with no luck.  Then last week Paul’s mom stopped by and called Paul to let him know we had mice in the kitchen too.  When Paul called to tell me, I was like, “(Big sigh). We really just need to get a cat.”

And he was like, “OK.”

Some background: Paul is deathly allergic to cats.  Even though they love him (see above).

He did live with a cat, Tayshaun, for a year in college (named after Tayshaun Prince, UK basketball star circa 2000.)  He said he just vacuumed like 4x a week and it was fine.  Plus, he said, this is going to be an outdoor cat mostly (our garage has god knows how many rats in it), so it shouldn’t be as big of a problem.

So that same day, we headed over to the Woodford County Humane Society.  The people working there are really wonderful, and they had about 3 million cats up for adoption.

30 minutes and $30 later, we drove away with a cat in a box.

Impulse buy.

Paul especially liked him because he thinks he looks like a wildcat.

Sticking with tradition, the cat is named Nerlens after Nerlens Noel, the top freshman recruit playing for UK (and top HS basketball recruit in the country) this year.

 …who does not look like he just got out of high school.

The cat and the dog have spent the past few days getting to know each other. So far it’s gone pretty smoothly all things considered.

This cat is super super friendly.

…but he’s also 5 months old and can be a total spaz.  So far he’s fallen into the toilet, knocked a whole bucket of kitty litter over into the sink, clogging it, and gotten stuck behind the washing machine, wedged between the wall and the machine about 2 feet off the ground (Paul had to dangle a dish towel over him, he clawed onto it, and we pulled him out.)

He also sleeps in the garbage can in the guest bathroom.

That’s his safe zone.

We’ll see how this goes.

Bourbon Chase 2012

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Another successful year for team Jim Beam Me Up.  Another unsuccessful year for the Spock ears I always want to put on the vans.

This year we had a runner drop out, but it turned out to be OK because JEN GOT TO RUN WITH US!

She was so excited.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Bourbon Chase, it’s a 12-person, 200-mile running relay along the Bourbon Trail across Kentucky that goes through all of the major distilleries.

Runners are broken up into 2 vans of 6, with each runner running 3 legs over the course of the trail.

The morning started out with a little rain, a 9:30am meeting, followed by a bourbon tasting at Jim Beam.

The only way to start an endurance event.

This year we were in Van 2, so had a few hours to kill before Van 1 finished off the first 6 legs.  So we checked out the distillery…

…then we hit the road, where there was a lot of this.

Lunch options were limited, and we had 2 people in the van with dietary restrictions.  We settled on a Mexican place in Central Kentucky.

I know.  We almost changed our team name to Team Gringo Diarrhea mid-race.

From there is was off to Makers Mark for the first Van 1/Van 2 handoff.

The sun kept fighting to break through the rain, and we checked out the mash.

Ryan was the lucky first runner from our van.  He took off around 5pm.

We ticked off the legs one by one…

…and ran off into the sunset.

Then it got dark.

And during leg #9, the rain came back with a vengeance.

Poor J. The rest of us spent a good 10 minutes in the van debating how important it was that we all be out on the course to cheer her into transition.

Traditional evening wear looked something like this.

coal miner? runner?

Plus a few blinking lights.

We wound our way through the dark Commonwealth.

harrodsburg, kentucky’s oldest town, 4am

Until, after a lot of running and minimal “sleeping” in the van, I ran the final night leg into the sunrise…and the Four Roses distillery which, along with coffee, bagels, and hot chocolate, has the most delicious bourbon of all.

Then, while van #1 ran the next six legs, we crossed some bridges…

…past Wild Turkey and into Versailles for a deeelicious country breakfast.

People also took the rest time to start rolling out our stupidly stiff legs and familiarize themselves with the beauty that is Biofreeze.

After that, it was over to Woodford Reserve for the final exchange from Van #1.

As Ryan made his way up the massive hill that comes out of Woodford, the sun came out.

And it got hot.  But beautiful.

The remaining runs were through horse country.

Jen ran the final leg into Lexington.  The way it works is both vans go to the finish line and the whole team waits for the final runner, then everyone runs across together, cheering, while the announcer announces the team name, and it’s very festive and a very big deal.

Well.  Jen ran so fast that our team wasn’t even at the finish line yet.  Apparently the announcer was like, “TEAM 507!  HERE COMES YOUR RUNNERRRRrrrrr.”  And she ran across the finish line.  Alone.

Fortunately, there was free bourbon to comfort everyone after the team fail.

And all was well.

finish line photo op

Thanks goes out to Jen for making the flight all the way out here, J & Ryan for inviting us on the team, the peeps in Van #2 for only being mildly stinky and making 30+ hours stuck in a van a non-negative experience, and George for organizing another glorious weekend in bourbon country.

More pics here.

Depressed animal

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Specifically, my cube fish.  He’s depressed.  Even putting him in a clean bowl with fresh food didn’t cheer him up.  I’m not sure what to do.

Bourbon Chase was this weekend.   But work is busy, so you’re just gonna have to wait on an update.  In the meantime, here’s a sneak peek at what’s to come.

I know.  Don’t get too excited.

Winter Chill

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It’s not winter yet, but this weekend it was officially cold out.  Early morning temps dipped down to the mid-30s.  Yes.  30s.  I volunteered at a race on Sunday morning, about 45 minutes post-race start it was still 37 degrees outside.  I was not-so-secretly thrilled that I wasn’t riding on the bike soaking wet.

So aside from wrapping your tiny dog in blankets, what else do you do when the weather gets cold?  Winterize your chicken coop, of course.

Above is the summer-time chicken coop.   But after some hard work…

…BOOM.  Winterized Chicken Coop.

I know, we should consider quitting our day jobs.

Paul and I spent Sunday afternoon constructing this masterpiece.   We debated putting some more insulation on there, but eventually decided that the chickens are plenty insulated as long as we can block most of the wind from howling through their little coop.  We’ll see if the roof survives the first real storm.

The girls, however, apparently love their new abode, because one of them gifted us with the MOTHER of all eggs yesterday.  Remember how our normal eggs are so big we can’t close a regular egg crate when we put them in there?

Well.  This happened yesterday.

That poor chicken.

It was a weird shape, too, almost a perfect oval, instead of having an obvious top and bottom.  No idea why that happened, but I’m going to say it’s the new roof + all the spinach we’ve been feeding them lately.  Unless an ostrich snuck in there yesterday and dropped it off.

In non-chicken related news, Bourbon Chase starts tomorrow!  I’m driving to Louisville tonight to pick up Jen from the airport because she joined our team last minute and is very excited about the Burgoo Festival.  I don’t think she’s ever tried squirrel before.  SUPERRR FUN!  Hopefully fun enough to make me forget that I’ve only run once in the past 3 weeks.  Yeah.

WOOHOO

Calming Manatee

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I’ve been sick this week and a little stressed about missing work, which means I haven’t done much aside from sit propped up on the couch with my laptop in my lap and sufferin’ towel on my head moaning.

Fortunately I also re-discovered Calming Manatee, who is always there to give you a boost when you’re feeling low.  Best therapy on the interwebs.  I love this meme.

Here’s to a better next week.  Happy Friday.

Blah

~ meh ~ 1 Comment

It’s a rainy Monday.  Who really feels like doing anything except the above.

Fortunately I had my cubemate to welcome me back and remind me to CRACK DOWN ON THAT EXCEL SHEET!

I’ve never seen a fish respond to someone walking in the room like this one does.  I swear he misses me over the weekend.

To wrap up this exciting, unintentionally animal-centric post, I’ll leave you with this series of pictures that went viral on FB last week.  Apparently every day these two go for a walk together.  I particularly like the pic in the upper righthand corner, he looks so excited that his buddy is coming down.

Reminds me of Barkley and my mom’s “feral” cat that she adopted from the humane society to hunt rats in the orchard.

So ferocious.

Happy Monday.

Kentucky Hike #3: Natural Bridge

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You can barely see it, peaking out of the woods.

Location: Powell County (about 50 miles east of Lexington)

Distance: Choose your own adventure (our choice was ~5.5 miles round trip)

Entry Fee: $0

Last Sunday Paul got really amped to go for a hike.  So we got up nice and early, dropped Spike off at daycare (Marsha), and headed east into Powell County.  Which is dry.  So no post-hike beer.

You may remember our last real hike in Kentucky, which pretty much turned me off to hiking here forever.  I am a fan of hiking (see: origin of this blog), but round here it takes some serious convincing that we are going to a heavily populated area with absolutely no hunting within a 100 mile radius for me to go.  Turns out Natural Bridge is like the HOTTEST tourist attraction in Kentucky outside of Derby, which was enough to convince me we wouldn’t be confused for deer.

After a post-drive bathroom break and some superior mullet spotting at the Hemlock Lodge, we headed out on the Original trailhead, then veered off onto the Hoods Branch Trail (the trip from the lodge up to the bridge ranges anywhere from .75 miles-4 miles.)   Our mishmash route was about 3 miles to the top.

This site is adjacent to the Red River Gorge, so the rocks started getting pretty cool pretty quick.

I can’t really speak to this personally, but apparently rocks like this are a rock climber’s dream.

…so of course Paul started up with this.

the whole. hike. up.

We eventually “climbed” our way up to the bridge…

…where the final stretch to get up to the bridge must prevent about 85% of the state’s population from actually experiencing the view from the top.

It is a seriously tight squeeze, I felt a little claustrophobic going through.  I am genuinely curious if anyone’s ever gotten stuck before.

We got to the top and it was…

…completely void of any barriers to keep people from falling off.

This made me nervous.

After that it was back on the trail…

…with a quick stop at the chair lift station to buy some more water from the two teenage kids in their John Deer hats sitting there drinking Ale 8 and listening to country music.

Best job ever.

Then it was down, down, down.

The “stairs” really were that steep.

And…back to the car!  Then, of course, a stop by Miguel’s, the climber hangout, for full pizza with potatoes, mushrooms, and kielbasa.

Holy crap, delicious.

Fun, short hike, nice views, worth the trip to see one of the Seven Wonders of the Commonwealth.

…and Clusterf**k of the year goes to…

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Our original plan for Big Shoulders was to drive up to Chicago.  But Paul is doing rotations, so he wasn’t sure what time he would be able to get out of the clinic.  The drive is about 6 hours, and if he got held up I didn’t want arrive at like 1am when I had to be down at the start to check in at 6 on Saturday morning.  We decided it would work best if I flew up after work, met up with my friend Jenny who we’d be staying with, and then Paul could join whenever he got there.

I spent the whole day at meetings in Louisville.   Here is how the breakdown of the rest of the day went:

3:30pm: I get dropped off at the airport by my coworker.  Flight is scheduled to leave at 5pm.

4:30: Flight is delayed to 6pm.  Mechanical issues.  I eat Quiznos.

4:45pm: Finish book #1.  Decide I’m going to be strong and wait it out and not buy another expensive airport book.

5:15pm: Paul calls.  He is leaving Lexington.  He has to drive through Louisville to get to Chicago.  We decide when he gets close to Louisville, he’ll call again and we’ll make an executive decision about whether or not I should hop in the car with him, depending on how the flight is looking.

5:30pm: Flight announces that departure is now delayed to 6:45.  Still due to mechanical issues.  I think back to all the emails I have received from Big Shoulders over the past week about the weather and how it’s supposed to thunder storm in Chicago Friday night, but clear up by Saturday morning.

6pm: Flight is delayed to 7.  I look up weather.com, see the storms aren’t really supposed to start until like 9ish, so we’re still in the clear.  I lay down and take a nap.

6:30: Wake up.  Decide I do, in fact, need another book as well as a bag of Gummi Savers.

6:40pm: Paul calls.  He’s about 15 minutes outside Louisville.  I go up to the AA ticket counter and ask if our flight has left its original destination.  They say it has, and it will be on the ground in 15 minutes, they promise we will be on board and in the air by 7:15.  I call Paul and tell him to keep going, I don’t need a ride.

7pm: Flight is now delayed until 7:30.  Go up to ticket counter to ask how that is possible when my flight should have already landed, only to learn that they had given me info about the WRONG FLIGHT TO CHICAGO (which was, in fact, boarding).

7:05: Call Paul 10x in a row hoping he’s not too far away to come get me.  He’s not answering.  Start texting him: PUT YOUR PHONE SOMEWHERE WHERE YOU CAN HEAR IT RING.  Because that will get him to answer.

7:10pm: Go up to ticket counter, ask about the correct Chicago flight.  They say it is in the air, will be there by 7:45.  Announce on the loudspeaker that the flight delayed until 8.

7:15: Paul calls back.  He is sorry, phone was on vibrate.  He’s 20 miles outside Louisville.  Asks if he should turn around.  We hem and haw and finally decide no, the flight is on it’s way here, no need for him to drive an extra 40 miles.

7:30pm: People in the waiting area are starting to talk about thunderstorms, start calling AA customer service and playing the updated flight status on speaker in the waiting area.

7:40: I see our plane pull up.  Wait for them to start boarding us.

8pm: Announce that the flight is delayed “at least another 45 minutes” due to weather.  Say that anyone with a connecting flight should come up first, people who have Chiciago as their final destination they’ll deal with when the flight actually gets cancelled.  Not sounding promising.  I call Paul.  He is just outside Indianapolis.  He says if I don’t get on a flight to Chicago, he is turning around and coming home, he’s not staying at my friend’s house without me.

8:15: I get up to the ticket counter and explain the situation to the ticket man.  I ask him, if he were me, should I rely on the flight getting me there tonight?  Or should I have Paul turn around and come get me?  He says: “You want my honest opinion?  Have your husband come get you.”

8:20pm: Paul turns around from Indianapolis and starts driving back to Louisville.

8:25-8:45pm: I call AA, they say if I cancel my flight I can get a voucher for another ticket.  So since Paul is already heading back, I cancel and accept the voucher.  They then explain that I can use my voucher on any flight for the same value or less.  Sounds good!  Not a total loss, right?  Horray!  BUT: In order for me to use said “voucher”, I will have to pay a $150 fee for rescheduling.  My ticket cost $120.  Thank you, American.

9pm: I hang up the phone with AA and call Jenny to tell her the situation.  As I’m doing that, they start boarding my flight.  That I just cancelled.

9:10pm: I call Paul.  He’s 20 miles outside Louisville.

9:20pm: I give the stinkeye to the guy behind the counter as he swiping tickets for people to board the plane.  He sees me and goes, “What are you still doing here??  I thought your ride was coming!” I ignore and walk out of security to the pick up area.

9:45: Paul arrives.  He’s been driving for 5 hours by himself.  He’s exhausted.  We decide the swim is not worth another 4 hours in the car.  We debate staying in Louisville for the night but don’t know where to stay.  Decide to head back to Lexington.

11:30pm: Arrive home.

…and that is how I hung out in the Louisville airport for 6 hours without ever getting on a flight, made Paul drive in a 6 1/2 hour circle and, after so much hype, did not end up doing the swim in Chicago.

Sufferin’ Towel

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Paul finished his OB/GYN rotation a few weeks ago and apparently in labor and delivery a lot of ladies in labor ask for a sufferin’ towel.  It’s just a wet towel they put on your head, but I guess around here it has a special name.

So two days ago it was extra hot and Spike was definitely suffering, so I draped a wet towel over him to cool him off.  Usually when we try to dry him off with a towel he freaks out and shakes it and runs around the house with it in his mouth.  But today, he left it on his back and walked around the house with it on for like 10 minutes.

He LOVES his sufferin towel.