First, the progress!
Grandpa actually got out of bed today and sat in a chair! If that's not enough, he also ate two boiled eggs for breakfast...(I have no idea what else he's had today--there have been no phone calls.) Now, we still don't know if the blockage is gone, but I do know that they removed the vacuum tube from his stomach (it went through his nose.) What I also know is that his stomach was soft yesterday as opposed to the more resistant feel that it had on Sunday. Apparently the food did not make him nauseous, which is good :)
The Dilapidation: A True Story written by Nate Rekrap*
It really all started last winter, when Miss R. was given a green horse to train. I found this extremely amusing as the little woman had been on a four-legged animal only enough times to count on her fingers. However, to shorten the lengthy tale, I shall obligingly cut to the chase.
Recently Matt, the wonderful professional horse trainer who has done Miss R. more good than anyone in her journey through horse training, showed our heroine how to get her horse to lower his head. (The reason Master Snip needs to bow his head is simply a matter of getting the bit into his stubborn mouth.)
When she arrived at the place to ride her horse, Miss R. immediately set to work getting the bit into Snip's mouth. (Forgive me, I forgot to mention the friendly bay steed came galloping down to meet her--I believe he thought it was supper-time...)
The technique: "First off, you have to put one hand on top of his head (in this case the left) and then grab ahold of his nose with the other one. With the left hand, put some pressure on his head. Pushing does better for me than digging into him with my nails. Once he gives, relax. Horses learn best through a reward system and releasing pressure is a reward. Next, once you get his head low enough, kinda rub him and then attempt to slide the head-stall up (I carry it on my right arm at all times). This may take a couple of trys. Eventually, I manage to get the head-stall held in my left hand and the bit directly under his mouth. This is the fun part...I give the bridle a tug with the left hand and try to guide the bit into his mouth and hold his head to me all at the same time--he'll throw his head--a bad habit. The bit will get in his mouth after awhile, just keep at it."
Ah, yes. Anyway, often she ends up walking in circles with him. It can be quite amusing. Please forgive me yet again, dear reader. I still have not gotten to the subject of this little essay--the dilapidation.
Like I was saying, after getting him bridled, Miss R. saddled him up and meanwhile was also running water into the cattle troughs. Then came the moment of mounting. Due to the girls short stature, she often hops on one foot for a minute or two while securing her proper foot (the left) in the stirrup. Well, today, after getting her foot in she started to heave herself up. She paused with a confused look on her face. "That was weird," she remarked, "my pants feel funny." When she looked up again she declared, "Rats! I ripped my favorite pair of riding pants!" And ripped they were indeed...the left leg had ripped right across the back several inches up from the knee. "Too much stress on 'em I guess."
With that, she continued her ascent and had a throughly enjoyable ride--or so I would say from an observers position. And that, dear friends is a woeful tale of dilapidation. I think that Miss R. took her predicament in stride with humor. That's one thing I have noticed about this particular friend over the years, she can normally find something funny to laugh about.
Alas, for the pants!
~~Nate
*For the uninitated, Nate is a VERY old friend of mine:)
In reality, Nate is actually a creation of my 8 or 9 year old mind...like I said, a very old friend. He's popped up over the last 11 or 12 years in various places, but most recently he has become a journalist. Nate used to ride his trusty four legged steed (a stool!) chasing bad guys who had abducted his beloved sisters, Isabella and Francine (Savannah and Katherine). His weapon was a small rifle (actually a put-put stick Daddy had made me out of cedar). Naturally, he always prevailed over the enemy :) And that is a brief, non-comprehensive history of my 'twin'.
Grandpa actually got out of bed today and sat in a chair! If that's not enough, he also ate two boiled eggs for breakfast...(I have no idea what else he's had today--there have been no phone calls.) Now, we still don't know if the blockage is gone, but I do know that they removed the vacuum tube from his stomach (it went through his nose.) What I also know is that his stomach was soft yesterday as opposed to the more resistant feel that it had on Sunday. Apparently the food did not make him nauseous, which is good :)
The Dilapidation: A True Story written by Nate Rekrap*
It really all started last winter, when Miss R. was given a green horse to train. I found this extremely amusing as the little woman had been on a four-legged animal only enough times to count on her fingers. However, to shorten the lengthy tale, I shall obligingly cut to the chase.
Recently Matt, the wonderful professional horse trainer who has done Miss R. more good than anyone in her journey through horse training, showed our heroine how to get her horse to lower his head. (The reason Master Snip needs to bow his head is simply a matter of getting the bit into his stubborn mouth.)
When she arrived at the place to ride her horse, Miss R. immediately set to work getting the bit into Snip's mouth. (Forgive me, I forgot to mention the friendly bay steed came galloping down to meet her--I believe he thought it was supper-time...)
The technique: "First off, you have to put one hand on top of his head (in this case the left) and then grab ahold of his nose with the other one. With the left hand, put some pressure on his head. Pushing does better for me than digging into him with my nails. Once he gives, relax. Horses learn best through a reward system and releasing pressure is a reward. Next, once you get his head low enough, kinda rub him and then attempt to slide the head-stall up (I carry it on my right arm at all times). This may take a couple of trys. Eventually, I manage to get the head-stall held in my left hand and the bit directly under his mouth. This is the fun part...I give the bridle a tug with the left hand and try to guide the bit into his mouth and hold his head to me all at the same time--he'll throw his head--a bad habit. The bit will get in his mouth after awhile, just keep at it."
Ah, yes. Anyway, often she ends up walking in circles with him. It can be quite amusing. Please forgive me yet again, dear reader. I still have not gotten to the subject of this little essay--the dilapidation.
Like I was saying, after getting him bridled, Miss R. saddled him up and meanwhile was also running water into the cattle troughs. Then came the moment of mounting. Due to the girls short stature, she often hops on one foot for a minute or two while securing her proper foot (the left) in the stirrup. Well, today, after getting her foot in she started to heave herself up. She paused with a confused look on her face. "That was weird," she remarked, "my pants feel funny." When she looked up again she declared, "Rats! I ripped my favorite pair of riding pants!" And ripped they were indeed...the left leg had ripped right across the back several inches up from the knee. "Too much stress on 'em I guess."
With that, she continued her ascent and had a throughly enjoyable ride--or so I would say from an observers position. And that, dear friends is a woeful tale of dilapidation. I think that Miss R. took her predicament in stride with humor. That's one thing I have noticed about this particular friend over the years, she can normally find something funny to laugh about.
Alas, for the pants!
~~Nate
*For the uninitated, Nate is a VERY old friend of mine:)
In reality, Nate is actually a creation of my 8 or 9 year old mind...like I said, a very old friend. He's popped up over the last 11 or 12 years in various places, but most recently he has become a journalist. Nate used to ride his trusty four legged steed (a stool!) chasing bad guys who had abducted his beloved sisters, Isabella and Francine (Savannah and Katherine). His weapon was a small rifle (actually a put-put stick Daddy had made me out of cedar). Naturally, he always prevailed over the enemy :) And that is a brief, non-comprehensive history of my 'twin'.
Racheal
P.S. If you want to know what Nate looks like, he looks just like me only with short crazy hair (afterall, he has as many cowlicks as I do!) Also his jaw is a bit squarer and he's a little bit taller and thinner :)
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