"If you don't see the book on the shelf, write it." ~ Beverly Cleary
Student: Ms. Elvrum, you look poofy today.
Me: Thanks, I think.
[Student puts hands on my expanding tummy and rubs it.}
Student: I can feel your baby.
Me: Wow, I can’t even feel my baby yet! Maybe it is because I’m poofy.
Student: No, I think I can feel your baby.
Sydney spent last night at the vet and it was heartbreakingly awful. Now she’s home and resting up, but the last 24 hours of not knowing what was wrong with her has been emotionally draining. Yesterday she had been acting very strange and was shaking horribly and didn’t want to be touched. She could hardly move.
If you know anything about Sydney, you must be aware of the fact that she’s all about touching and wanting to be asclosetoyouaspossible, so this was very strange behavior. The vet had an appointment available yesterday afternoon and we rushed her in. (And by ‘we’ I mean that Brian happened to be home and so he got to come with me…).
Seeing Syd at the vet’s office was even more heartbreaking because it was clear that she was in a lot of pain. They decided to keep her for the night and run some tests. It was at this point that I started crying, it was also at this point that Brian probably was wondering what in the world had he done to be roped into this emotional mess, but I appreciated him being there.
X-Rays, blood work and many hours later it turns out our little dog either has a kidney stone to pass or has tweaked her back. We’re supposed to keep her from jumping on things and from moving too much. Currently, she’s trying to catch up on the 12 hour nap she missed today while she was at the vet’s office, so it won’t be too difficult. I’m more worried that Barry and Brian might run out of things to do around the house now that they can’t be quarterback to her running back – throwing Tiger & Turtle up and down the hallway.
As much as I appreciate our vet, I am beyond happy that Syd is back home with us. I need her to saddle up to my belly and let some huge snores out!
I’m having a bit or writer’s block because burgers are consuming my mind as of late. A girl should only do a number of burger posts before she moves on, right? I’m not ready to move on….burger thoughts have taken over my brain. It is so strange. A few months ago it would have been torture to eat a burger with out sticking my upper lip up. Pure torture.
Now, I’d eat a burger for every meal if I could and I’ve found myself in philosophical conversations with friends about the art of the burger. I’ve also become a defender of Dick’s fries. I love them and are shocked to find there are so many haters out there! How can you turn your nose up to something so salty and greasy?
Eating burgers around HBHQ is no walk in the park. I recenlty jumped on this band wagon, but Barry has been eating burgers for decades. His dad is like Papa Burger, loving all burgers made from little Mom – N – Pop stands. Barry’s childhood memories are filled with going on some adventure with his dad, only to stop along the way for a tasty burger.
“You just don’t understand burger culture yet,” is what Barry told me as we walked Sydney yesterday morning. I wasn’t aware that there was a ‘burger culture’ to understand, but apparently I was wrong. Part of Burger Culture is not making special orders or trying to manipulate what is offered. You either order what is offered and are happy, or you don’t order at all. I had no idea. I love special ordering. I’m really good at it.
Now that I’ve been informed I feel like I might need to do a bit more research to see if I’ve become more accustomed to Barry’s burger ways.