The Tragic Face of Tortoises on Crack

I hit my local drug pusher today, the produce department at Raley's. Between the cauliflower, cabbage, and crack, I completely forgot the other C: collards. Treppie started marching around the kitchen, then doing his annoyingly annoying attention-getter: scratching at the storage drawer under the oven. He will pace back and forth, making that (did I mention annoying) clangy scratching sound for hours unless I deflect him by putting him outside or....drugging him. With crack.

Uhm, in case you haven't read my other posts referred to tortoise crack, I am actually talking about that sugary goodness others know as corn on the cob.



Mike is still spending some time most afternoons exploring the couch and throws. Yesterday, he was on the couch when Karen stopped by to pick up some things. She sat down next to him to visit with us for a while. When she'd been sitting there for 5 minutes or so, Mike started bobbing at her because, can you imagine? She wasn't paying attention to him! The nerve of some people! So, she started petting him. As long as she pet him, he didn't bob at her or give her Stink Eye, the fading gleam of which can be seen in this photo:



Someone I know, a Canadian who became a U.S. citizen last year, just bought his first house (well, he and his wife did). I thought I'd knit them a little something. I came across a website that had designs for wash/dish cloths among which were a maple leaf and a U.S. flag. "Poifect!" I thought. However, I'd stayed away from knitting these types of 'embossed' patterns before because my brain just couldn't track the different instructions for each of the inside design rows (the space between the side, top and bottom borders).

So, before leaping in to make the CAN/US set of cloths, I thought I'd try one of the patterns first and make myself a washcloth. I grabbed the dwindling ball of leftover discontinued sky blue Cotton Ease, and made myself the Liberty Bell. I found the pattern easy to read and make, and whipped it out in one evening (if your evening ends around 1:15 in the morning).

Unfortunately, my gauge is really tight, so instead of making a 9" x 9" cloth, mine came out 8" x 8". Which is fine, but I wanted the larger size for these gift cloths. So, I added 8 sts, 2 each on the side borders, and 2 each to both sides of the inside space, and I worked two more rows on the top and bottom borders (and realized after I was done that I should have knit 3 more rows instead of 2, as the finished cloths are somewhat rectangular rather than square), and ended up with cloths slightly bigger, 10" x almost 10".

I decided to knit the leaf and flag cloths in red, figuring it was a better color for dishcloths than white, which could start looking grungy without being occasionally bleached, and blue seemed silly for a Canadian maple leaf.



These patterns were designed by Emily Jagos, and can be found at her Designs by Emily website.

(Looking at them, you can tell how much my gauge and consistency in making well-formed stitches is affected by the amount of pain, range of motion, and function (or lack thereof!) of my hands on any given day - these cloths were knit on three consecutive days, one cloth a day. Check out the samples on Emily's site - nice and neat!)

Now, back to work I go on a kitchen towel...

It's MAY???!!!

Good grief! It's amazing how time flies when you're lost in the haze of acute illness.

Yes, I'm always sick, but sometimes the chronic stuff flares into acuteness, and opportunistic things take advantage of the whole situation. That's pretty much what I've been dealing with since December: painful and brainfoggy flares of Lyme and Bartonella, gut infections, acute muscle spasms, and now a whalloping case of bronchitis. Spending much time zoned out from pain, fever or side effects of drugs. Blech. I didn't get into "recreational drugs" in my teens or twenties because I hated what they did to my head the few times I had to take similar drugs for medical reasons. I don't like the side effects any more now, but it sure beats the alternative.

So, there's not been much in the way of knitting, or picture taking, or writing. I thought I'd do a sort of catch up post, of the things I've been intending to write about. and fill some of the space with some photos.

I have been doing some knitting, completing a couple of kitchen towels for me and one for a friend, along with a matching washcloth that I used to wrap a cute soap in for her birthday. I also knit a week's worth of washcloths for baby who should be making her world debut within the next couple of weeks:


I knit a pair of socks for myself out of the worsted yarn I dyed a couple of years ago, using a sort of progressive vat dye (dunk the yarn in then immediately pull some out, and keep pulling some more out every 15 min or so, the result being shades of color:


I knit a pair of wrist warmers for Rose, using Cascade 220 Superwash in a lovely teal. I also knit a sock in Cherry Tree Hill's Sockittome Country Garden. I was going to use it to make a pair of Kathleen Taylor's Simple Stripes Fair Isle socks, but needed a gem-tone color infusion for my soul, so the yarn is going to be just plain (Jaywalker) socks instead. I also started (and finished) a sock using the yarn I originally dyed as a gift for my niece (part of my sneaky plan to try to get her knitting again), but didn't gift it as it didn't turn out the way I wanted, and so I overdyed the whole mess in blue, giving me a yarn with some deep blues and a variety of nice-to-yucky (to me) greens (excuse the blurry photo - gots me a bit of the shakes, I do):


In April, Karen had to fly to another town to get her plane's avionics looked at because the company here totally flaked on her. Having nothing to do (well, unable to do much of anything), and not having been terrified in quite a while, I went with her. Shifting weather fronts made for lots of turbulance, the day was overcast and sort of bleak, and watching Karen work her cobbled-together radio as she communicated with the various towers and such was, er, interesting. A few of the photos I took that day:

Part of the mothballed fleet off Mare Island:


Infineon Raceway:

The wetlands along Highway 37:


The Napa River running out into the San Pablo estuary, alongside the aforementioned wetlands:


After some lovely summery days and working on conserving even more water as we head into mandatory conservation season, we actually started getting some rain yesterday in most of the Bay area and points east. My rose bush, which had been covered in blooms, looks a bit beaten down this morning:


In context, however, despite the overcast, everything is looking pretty happy with the rain:


Speaking of conserving water, I finally found a siphon that works for me, for transferring Mikey's bath water into buckets for use in my yard, to water the plants that need assistance throughout the summer: my fig trees, jasmine, rosemary, lavender, and mint. I got this beauty at one of my favorite places to browse and shop, Harbor Frieght.



To water my pots of succulents, and my lemon balm and chives, I use cooking water used to steam veggies.

Treppie, who is still a bit out of synch after having come out of hibernation too soon due to the unseasonally summer weather we've been having since February, wandered over to my desk to see if I could do anything to make the sun any hotter on a cool day earlier this week.



Tobago is in her typical Spring "I want to eat every worm in the world" mode:


And, Mike is....Mike. Getting ready to shed, checking out my shoes to check my pheromones, and actually being very good about not waking me up for his baths on morning's I've finally been able to sleep.


Here's sprawly boy asleep last week:


I also helped do moulage for a drill at the local airport for fire departments who will be called on to respond to airport disasters to assist the airport's own fire department. For those who are not squeamish, you can see some of the photos of victims and the rest of the exercise in the Kodak Gallery Photo Album I've created.

I just added a couple of product reviews to my Miscellani blog, one on Get Serious Products stain remover, and the other on shipping reptiles and other stuff via UPS - at about 30% off - at ShipYourReptiles.com and AllProShipping.com.

Now, off I go for some long-overdue hot tea...

Spring doth creep on tiny tortoise feet

While the rest of the world celebrates the vernal equinox as the first day of spring, around here, the first day of spring is heralded by the first clement day one of the chaco tortoises scratches at the back door to be let outside - and chooses to stay outside because it isn't frickin' cold or raining.

This year, Baby Atlas (now about 25 years old) was the first to want to go outside. The chacos don't do much in the way of venturesome climbing (well, clamboring over rocks and hillocks and such), necessitating me to always pick them up and put them down, a sort of aerial tortoise transfer bypassing the step from the house to the back patio.

Four years ago, I slanted some old fence boards from the step to the patio, and "drove" them up and down it in the effort to get across to them that they could use it to walk up and down rather than wait for The Mommy Airlift Service (TMAS). Last year, they finally got it, and Atlas, at least, remembers how to use it (well, to not freak out about the slant and the scary space in between the two boards)!



Atlas rambled around the patio for a while...



before heading off into the wilds of the weedy yard with the encroaching masses of honeysuckle.

In March, I was asked about a fleshy protrusion that had suddenly appeared--and was then withdrawn--from the back end of a sulcata tortoise heretofore believed to be female. I related the remarkable appearance and size of the male tortoise reproductive organ, and referred the tortoise mom to my article on Hemipenes. The problem with getting photos of them is that they tend to appear when there isn't a camera handy, and disappear by the time one risks breaking one's neck getting a camera to the scene.

Well, a few days later, not only did Atlas extrude his for the first time that I've seen (he's been with me for about 10 years), but he kept it out (Baby Exhibitionist, he is) long enough (no pun intended) for me to race to the other room and get back with my camera.



Oh! And those tiny tortoise feet? Here they are:



Spring's arrival requires confirmation, and thus was it confirmed yesterday when Treppie, my 14 year old (captive bred of captive bred parents) desert tortoise emerged from his hibernaculum (this year, under my bed) and trundled his way into the den, where he planted himself by my chair, awaiting TMAS to take him the rest of the way into the Iguana/Tortoise room. After warming up the rest of the day and night, he trundled into the kitchen this morning for a nice long drink, his first since last November.



While Treppie was sucking in his 3rd bowl of water, Mikey came down from his basking/lounging area, ready to start his morning with a poop, feed, and bath. Ah, yes, another sign of spring: males jousting for dominance at the trough! Because Treppie is just waking up from his long slumber, he wasn't thinking fast enough to do his usual trick: plant his body over the food bowl and continue drinking, thus assuring no one else can eat, even if he himself isn't eating at that time.

Mike, having been subjected to being shut out of the food bowl back when he was just a wee little thing when he first came to live with me, knows how to get even and take the offensive. First, you walk on the tortoise...




...and then stay there, making your point...




...and then add insult to injury by attempting to squash the tortoise while you eat.






Treppie uttered a few hisses, which bothered Mike not at all, so I intervened and separated them.



After taking a few bites and then stepping in the food to spread it around, Mike walked off to his bathroom to await TMBS (The Mommy Bath Service), and Treppie eventually resumed drinking.

Ah, Spring!

It's Bleeding, er, Breeding Time....

...and the iguana is cranky beyond belief (my apologies to George Gershwin for rudely altering his Summertime lyrics).

Yes, folks, Mike has passed through that difficult puberty threshold into full blown hormonal adolescence. Plus, he's shedding. Iguana keepers know that that's when they'd most like to send their iguanas to a deserted island somewhere.

In my case, I'd like to send Mike and Treppie, my big desert tortoise, because it's thanks to Treppie that Mike was able to do what he did. (Well, that and the fact I'm fighting a relapse, and the big iguanids are great observers of their humans, and will have a go at them when they detect an opening.)

Mike's been giving me lots of open mouth threats lately, not related to colors or patterns, but possibly because my erratic cycle (please, God, send menopause NOW) has switched on to "permanent PMS" for the last couple of weeks (yes, I have been very carefully watching my diet to lower my blood sugar, but c'mon, at times like these, Trader Joe's Pound Plus Bittersweet Chocolate isn't candy, it's medicine!). Sometimes the open-mouthing is combined with lunging, so I've been very careful around him.

Today, after spending a few minutes sending Mikey into Nirvana by picking some of the shedding skin off of his face, I knelt down to reposition a small glass-and-metal table under Mikey's table, because Treppie is once again completely and totally certain that if he just tries hard enough, he will indeed prove that glass and metal are in fact permeable substances through which he can pass his 8 pounds, 13" CL x 8" CW self.

It was while I was down there that Mike launched himself at me and, thankfully (hey, let's be practical) latched onto my left ear. Unfortunately, I had just pulled the sides of my hair back into a clip, so he made more contact with flesh than he would have a short time before. So, there I sat, er, crouched, clamping his head between my hands in case he decided to shake or do some alligator rolls while still firmly attached to my ear.

I looked around the iguana/chelonian room to see if there was by chance any alcohol around, but there was not. (Note to self: dig out the "snake bite" bottle I used to carry with me when I did educational programs. [For those who do not know, the quickest and safest way to detach a locked-in snake from one's skin is to pour a little alcohol {preferably the drinking, not the isopropyl, kind} into their mouth, taking care not to flood it or let it flow down their trachea.] [No, I'm not nuts, just a former snake keeper who still has a fondness in her heart for Serpentes.]*

Not much anything else of use, either. So, there I crouched, the brat's head in my hands, waiting for him to get bored (or, hey! get a clue!) and let go. He repositioned his mouth twice, clamping down harder, before finally releasing me (and freeing a mouthful of hair, which I can ill afford to lose, thank you very much).

Fortunately, my external ear is intact. Mostly. I mean, both my ears need re-piercing anyway, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind...

Le Front:


Le Back:


The photos were taken a couple of hours after the bite. In the immediate aftermath, after washing it off, I clamped some tissues around the ear to stop the bleeding. While clamping with one hand, I dug through my CERT go bag and the crate of supplies under it only to realize that, oh, yeah, I don't keep much in the way first aid stuff in there.

Mind you, the realization hits after I'm digging through them with one hand while trying to keep from bleeding on the floor or, heaven forbid, any yarn!

So, still clamping, out to my car I go, and schlep in my actual FAK (a small duffle bag that, unlike my CERT bag, does not have a hard hat and assorted other tools in it, but does, for some reason, have both my CPR masks... Ah, well, better to learn that now than when it's really important...).

After wading through the CPR and N95 masks, I pull out the bag of gauze pads, happy to see that they are Kendall-Futuro's Curity brand, not Johnson & Johnson's, since I am mightily displeased with them at present. (Yes, really, these are thoughts that go through my head while bleeding and pulling out needed supplies.)


Now that I think about it, it's been ~12 years since I've been bitten by an iguana. Well, by anything with more than two legs. But, I digress.

My worst iguana bites were all from highly tamed and socialized iguanas. Two of the three were by breeding season males (my dear long departed Freddy, and now Mike). The other bite was from my boy Wally, who closed his mouth expecting me to have moved my finger away from it before his jaws made contact. Since I was looking in the opposite direction, and jerked instead of keeping still, the flexor on the palm side of my right index finger was severed, which keeps me from bending it at all at the first knuckle, and limits the bend of the second.



Other than having to remember to not clamp the phone to that ear or sleep on my left side for a while (and, oh, yeah, keep an eye out for infection), I got off easily (and so, presumably, did Mike - I'll have to check his basking area for seminal plugs or those lovely 'melted mozzarella cheese' deposits).

Ah, well, at least for a few hours I got to forget how miserable my allergies have been today...

* Several years ago, I wrote an Open Letter to Emergency Responders about detaching snakes without killing them.

UPDATES

Monday, August 13: It is three days after the bite. Saturday, Mike bobbed at me and did some lateral compressions, first thing in the morning. I'd given him the 'silent' treatment ever since the bite - no Mommy voice, no talking to him at all, though I did growl at him (I speak Dog, too, as well as a bit of Cat) whenever I saw him. Since I normally talk to him throughout the day and evening, my not talking to him, and only growling at him, was a clear change in my behavior. I began talking to him civily (not in the usual cooing Mommy voice) late Saturday afternoon.

Sunday, we interacted normally. No head bobs or lateral compressions. He had his bath, ate as usual, and generally spent a quiet day. Martha, a friend of mine who takes care of him when I am out of town, came over for a bit. She said she'd never seen him so blue and brown (happy with the attention, overlaid by breeding colors, which for him are a rusty brown).

Today was much like yesterday. No bobs, no presenting, with him staying in his room other than coming down to eat and making a circuit around my bathroom while I ran the bath in his bathroom. As usual, he got himself out of his tub when he was done, and went back to his room to bask.

As for me, no sign of infection, and the lacerations and punctures are healing nicely. I look forward to being able to sleep on my left side again, and to the end of breeding season!

Wednesday, August 15: There is no sign of infection on the ear itself - by contorting myself and using a hand mirror, I've been able to do a visual as well as doing touch checks daily. Today, the lymph gland right under the ear, where the external ear flap is attached at the bottom of the opening, grew swollen and painful to the touch.

Thursday, August 16: The swollen lymph gland is down considerably, and only hurts when I press hard on it. Mike, heading towards the den from the foyer, first walks, then lopes towards me as I am half-way across the room heading towards the hall. Fortunately, I was carrying a load of his towels to put them in the washer, so I placed them between me and his oncoming head, holding him down to keep him from getting to me. He grabbed onto the green towel, whereupon I picked him up and carried him to his room. After I put him down on his table, he dropped the towel and turned around and glared at me, as if to say he's getting ready for Round 3.

Our daily routine for the past year or so is letting him go into the bathroom when he is ready for his bath. That is either early-ish in the morning (~7:30), or late in the morning. This morning, I got him up at 7 AM and put him in the bath. He was distinctly not happy about that. Could that have compounded the hormone situation and resulted in his coming after me? Possible…

Update Friday, August 17: I didn't bother taking a photo of the front - aside from a pale yellow tint that matches the fading bruise on the back of the ear, and a small line of scabbing along a ridge, the front is virtually healed. The back is well on it's way, as well.



Final Update August 24: Everything is more or less back to normal (depending on how "normal" you consider life with a large lizard to be). No more challenges, no more lungeing,no more open mouth threats. For now. My ear is well on its way to being fully healed. There is one tiny area of scab and discoloration under my finger, and some residual redness where the teeth chomped through the skin. I've been sleeping on my left side and holding the phone to my left ear again, meaning the pain and tenderness are virtually gone.



Unintended Self-Portrait of the Artiste