Textually Active

I have recently been playing love coach to a couple of different people in my life. This fascinates me because well, quite frankly, I have no idea how to handle romantic affairs. I mean, obviously...I am 28 and single. (Which depending on how you look at it could make me either really sad or really smart.) Regardless I have been handing out relationship advice. I'm no expert but at least I know what heart break feels like, so I can "be there" for someone when they are dealing with that. (Which, in my opinion the best way to handle that little issue is with lots of icecream, booze, and hanging out with the gals.)

Anyway, today I was looking through various relationship articles online and enjoying myself quite a bit. Every one gave different advice. I mean, its no wonder no one ever really knows how to handle affairs of the heart because its so darn hard to get good, sound advice. At least advice without a hint of prejudice. (Same can be said for my own advice to others, because when a dear friend comes to me with a broken heart over some jerk that did her wrong, my first form of advice is, "I know where we can hide the body.")

One article in particular caught my attention, mostly because I like to text people. I'm kinda known for it within my circle of textual followers. (Did I just make up a phrase?) I like to send "Random Thoughts" for the day or "What Is Going Through April's Head Right Now" texts. Those, as you can imagine, can be either highly entertaining or slightly annoying (or both) but I've never gotten any complaints. In fact, both Maggie and Kayla will tell you that they love getting my texts...especially the drunken ones. Maggie says those are "like a puzzle".

Anyway, the article said that the best way to tell if a guy is interested in you through texting is if he sends two messages in the morning, two in the afternoon, and two at night. Really? So there is a mathematical science to this? When did that happen? Is it some sort of concept AT&T came up with or maybe an app for your iPhone? I'm confused. I mean, I didn't realize the amount of text you got from someone meant anything at all. Furthermore, why six? I mean, its my favorite number, but I never really knew it had some sort of magical relationship powers. Hmmm...

I once had a guy text me 15 times in 30 minutes. FIFTEEN TIMES!!! He must have been in love with me is all I know. What ultimately happened though was that the repeated text messages during my work hours just freaked me out and so I texted him and told him to leave me alone. For someone I had never even met, that was WAY too many text messages.

Still though, it makes me wonder what that same article would say about the 15 texts.

Uncle Doug

I have always taken great pride (and joy) in what a family oriented person I am. Its hard trying to keep up with everyone when you come from a BIG family like mine. My Mom is the eldest of five children. Her mother is one of eleven kids. My Dad is the baby in a family of eleven and I've lost track of how many family members I have in my family on his side.

When people ask about my family, I automatically sort through countless cousins, uncles, and aunts in my mind, when really, they probably just mean my immediate family (i.e. Mom, Dad, Dillon), but that is how I think:  family = everyone.

Anyway, the point is, it is VERY difficult to keep up with everyone. I'm pretty sure that even if I didn't have to work or go to grad school or do anything else, it would still be impossible for me to share all the love I have with each individual person within my family circle. I try to plan reunions and gatherings. I try to remember to send birthday and anniversary cards. I try to visit as much as I can.

That is the hard part. Visting...something we like to do a lot of in the country. I don't get to visit much. I apologize to folks for that. Its not like I don't love ya'll, I'm just really, really busy most of the time. Regardless, all that is just to set you up for the star of this particular blog...my Uncle Douglas.

Now, my entire life, my Uncle Doug has lived just out the road from me. When I say, "just out the road" I don't mean five miles down the road. I mean, literally a two minute walk from my house. I can step out onto the front porch, turn right, and see almost into his living room window. Nunn Road is just that...a road full of Nunns.

I have other family members I could blog about (and I probably will someday) but today is for Douglas.The background on him is that he is my Daddy's older brother. My Papaw Bob once taught him how to swim, by picking him up and throwing him into the creek and telling him to learn to swim or sink. We believe in tough love on the Nunn side of my family tree. ;-) Doug is also the father of three of my favorite people in the world: Bridgette, Kayla, and Steven.

When I was little, Bridgette was my hero. I wanted to look like her, talk like her, be exactly like her in every way. She was my idol. She was what I thought perfection was, but as you get older, you come to realize no one is perfect. We lost Bridgette way too soon and I still think of her often and miss her a great deal. She left behind a son, whom we all call "Little Dylan".

Lil' Dyl' was the first of Douglas' two grandchildren. The other being that sweet, beautiful little ball of perfection known as Story. So that makes Douglas the grandfather of two more of my favorite people as well. 

Child number two for Douglas was my younger cousin Steven. My gawd that boy tortured my very soul when we were little. He has tried to kill me on more than one occasion I assure you. We were born a year apart and during the same month. His birthday is May 13 and mine is May 23, so even though he is a year younger, when we were little he used to tell me he was OLDER than me because his birthday came first. I wanted to strangle him for that. As we got older though, we got along much better and now, even though I rarely ever see him, I still love him a great deal and I'm glad he's a part of my family.

The baby out of Douglas' brood was a snot faced little brat known as Kayla Ray. I know I sound mean when I call her that, but honestly, she was a snot faced little brat. I used to hide from her. Seriously. I'm six years older than the girl and I used to see her coming out the road towards my house and run inside, lock the door, and hide. She was mean. But she grew out of some of that...SOME of that. I wasn't that close with her when she was a teen...I was off doing my own adult thing and she was doing her own teenage thing and it just never really worked out that we could be close. Now that we are both adults however, I am happy to say that she is a very dear friend of mine. I'm certain I get on her nerves quite frequently, but she loves me so she puts up with me. I no longer hide from her either, but to be fair, this might have something to do with her own kid, Story. I hate to lock the door and hide from Story. I'm not sure how such a sweet, timid child came from Kayla, but I'm not going to question it. Why jinx it, ya know?

So anyway, my Uncle Douglas is the father and grandfather of some pretty grand individuals. That's basically what I know him as...the father and grandfather of my cousins. I'm not particularly close to Douglas and although I see him everyday basically, I hardly ever take the time to stop for conversation. No worries though, I am a Nunn, that is how we do things. People think we are strange because we barely speak, but we get each other just fine that way. I have often said that I think we Nunns could communicate just fine with each other through a series of grunts and facial gestures. That's all it would take. :-)

So today I got to spend some quality time with my uncle. He rode with me and my Aunt Ida up to Ohio to pick up my Dad. Douglas didn't say much from his spot in the backseat of Maisy, but I liked having him back there anyway. He took a nap part of the way, until Ida sneezed and it scared him (he thought the tire had blown out on the car). We talked a little bit about immigration laws, smalltown gossip, work, the economy, politics, and Yankees (not the team, but the folks living above the Mason Dixon line). He didn't say a whole lot, but he did contribute. It was nice.

I wish I could say that there was some sort of breakthrough in my somewhat distant relationship with my uncle, but that would be a lie. We aren't best friends now or anything like that, but it was nice to just have the time to sit and listen to his tone of voice, the way he pronounced his words, or the stories he would tell about his grandbabies. :-) Why? Because someday, I won't be able to do that. Douglas isn't old or anything like that, but life moves by pretty quickly and one day when the people you have in your life right now are gone from you, it is the littliest of things that you want to remember...like the sound of their voice or one really good memory with that person. Today I got both. It made the long drive to Ohio not so long, not so miserable.

I hope he can say the same.

Here Kitty, Kitty

I know I blog about my cats quite a bit, but you have to bare with me. I'm not married. I have no children, so my cats are my kids. I am the crazy cat lady. I understand this. I've come to accept it. I've always loved cats. Actually, I've just always loved animals of any kind. I didn't get the nickname "EllieMae" for nothin' afterall.

Right now though, I only have cats. Well...I have a cow but she doesn't count as a real pet because she was actually one of our milking cows that I begged Daddy not to sell because she was the oldest and toughest one in the herd and quite frankly, that gave me a tremendous amount of respect for the old hag. And I do take care of other people's animals as well. I tend to Dad's chickens and dog and my brother's dogs and all that jazz. For me though, I only have cats. Which is strange...cause I've always had a LOT of animals. In fact I've called a variety of critters "pets" through the years (pigs, deer, possums, rabbits, etc....). For now though I am stuck on cats.

Ya'll already know the story of me and my cat family. How I rescued them from our dairy five years ago when their Mom abandanoned them when they were only two weeks old. How I got up every two hours that summer to feed four kittens. So on and so forth...I'll spare you those details. Needless to say, I was the best cat Mommy I could be for a human.

Sadly, my kitty-kiddos were born with Feline Leukemia, something that they contracted from their biological Mommy cat. Nothing I could do about it and by the time I found out, I was already attached. So I decided to let them live out their remaining years with me and I would do whatever I could to keep them safe, healthy, and happy during the time I had them.

Last year I lost Poop. She got a cold and as is the case with Leukemia, it progressed into something worse. She didn't make it to Christmas. :-( And this week I lost Oliver to a damn spider bite of all things. Said spider also bit my Emmie, but she has been slowly recovering. She's still not her usual self, but she is continuing to drink some liquids and keeps her wound clean on her own. But she is very sick still and very weak. So I stay worried about her.

And now I'm worried about my other remaining kitty, Bart. Usually Bart is the picture of perfect kitty cat health. He's never been diagnosed with Feline Leukemia but I always assumed he had it because he was a litter mate to the others that were diagnosed. Truth is though, even though this particular cat disease is very contagious (and NO, Daniel Clemmons, this is NOT the same thing as Feline AIDS), sometimes cats don't get it. So far, I've been lucky with Bart. I did have a scare once when he got a urinary tract infection and had to spend a week at the Vet's office, but he came out of that okay, and I've not had a single problem since then.

But he's been acting strange lately. I worry its another UTI, but the truth is, the only symptom of that he is showing is lethargy...and that could be a symptom of just about anything. According to my research he could be sick to his stomach. He could have an infection or virus. He could be too hot. He could have a disease. Hell, it could just be that he doesn't like his cat food (because he's not been eating properly for about a day now). And yes, even cats can suffer from anorexia, so it could even be that.

But I've checked him. No fever. No wounds. No teeth problems. No lumps in his tummy. No visible problems in his hind quarters. So I just can't figure it out. I even broke down and finally bought an air conditioner tonight and plugged it in, thinking maybe he was too hot.

I've been giving him Pedialyte as well as Emmie. She doesn't mind sharing I don't think. And so far, Bart is still urinating pretty regularly...he just isn't going number two because he's not eaten since Thursday night.

It stresses me out when I don't know what is wrong! I want to fix everything and I don't like it when I can't. So tomorrow I'm going to try to call the vet and make an appointment for Bart. He needs a check up whether he likes it or not.

In the meantime, my theory on what is ailing him may be far fetched, but it is also quite logical. So here it is...I think my Bartticus is depressed. I know, I know. Seriously though, animals can get depressed too. And he is in fact exhibiting all the signs of depression. But the thing that makes me think its that, is because he was fine up until a few days ago when Oliver died.

On the day Oliver and Emmie got bit, Bart was fine. He went  outside and climbed trees and played around like normal. That evening when it got time to put him back in the house, he had a little kitty breakdown. He came through the front yard meowing at the top of his lungs (Bart is a quiet kitty, he NEVER makes a sound) and when I tried to comfort him, he wouldn't have any of it. You see, Bart was looking for the other cats. By that time Emmie was in bed sick and Oliver had already passed away. That night, well after I had put them back in the house, I could hear Bart at the bedroom window meowing into the night.

The very next day he started acting strange. He sleeps in the same room that Oliver always slept in (eventhough Bart never slept with Oliver when he was alive). He even sleeps in the box that Oliver used to sleep in sometimes.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I've tried everything I can think of and the only conclusion I can come up with is that Bart is depressed. Apparently cats will do that. If your kitty cat has recently suffered a loss of another pet or human family member, they can become depressed. Go figure. And since all this started the day Oliver died and Emmie got really sick, and since I'm not finding any other symptoms, it only leaves me to conclude it is Bart's way of grieving the loss of his brother.

But until I know for sure, its off to the vet I go yet again. Keep your fingers crossed for me and my furry children.

Black Widow

I had four cats up until this past Winter. My cat, Poop, passed away shortly before Christmas. Complications due to Feline Leukemia. That left, Bart, Oliver, and Emmie. Today I lost Oliver and I'm not sure if Emmie will make it or not, but it doesn't look good.

This time, its not due to Feline Leukemia, but to a Black Widow spider.

I know this because I found the bite marks. I thought maybe it was a snake that had gotten into my house, but it wasn't. Further investigation and a call to the vet confirmed it was some sort of insect bite. The only insect it could have been...black widow.

My cats live in my Grandmother's old house. The same house that I am fixing up so I can move in as soon as possible. For now though, just my cats stay there. I'm rarely over there for more than a few minutes at a time, unless its the weekends. I wouldn't have noticed any spiders hiding away. But Emmie and Oliver are best buddies, so they sleep together. The only thing I can figure, is the spider was in the bedding and bit them both while they slept.

Nothing can be done for that. Not even at the vet. Hospitals have anti-venom, but vets don't keep it because typically, there is no reason to keep it...small animals (like cats) don't usually survive the bites regardless.

So we buried Oliver this evening. Emmie is still hanging in there, but out of all the cats, she suffers from Feline Leukemia the worst. So I am afraid its only a matter of time for her. If she makes it through the night, I will be impressed.

Bart is fine. He's now my only cat left. He's already suffering from loneliness. I set off a fogger in my house this evening and I hope that will kill any spiders that I can't see.

But I am NOT a happy camper. I have raised those cats since they were two weeks old. I fed them every two hours. I bathed them. I took them to the vet. I pampered them to ridiculous levels, especially after I found out about the leukemia. And a spider bite takes them away from me.

Its not a good day on Nunn Road to say the least. :-(

It's Official!!!

I am officially accepted into Graduate School for this fall.

I had applied for the Social Work program at the University of Kentucky earlier this year and after much back and forth between the Registrar's office here at EKU, I finally got official confirmation last night that I had been accepted to the program.

I'm very excited about this!

I've been looking at the classes online and I am pretty sure I can go part-time (which is what I wanted anyway) and still work. Its going to be busy I'm sure. I'll probably feel like pulling out my hair from time to time. But I work better under pressure anyway (or at least that is what I tell myself). So it should all work out fine.

I have a Bachelor's in History and I minored in both Appalachian Studies and Women's Studies while at EKU as an undergraduate. I finished all that up in 2006 and for the past four years I've pretty much been just floating around. I took a year off, then went back to school. I was enrolled in Graduate School at EKU in the Public Administration program with Community Development as my concentration. That lasted all of one year before I decided that it just wasn't what I thought it was going to be. It was a great program, just not for me.

I got accepted to the graduate school at Appalachian State University in North Carolina but due to family issues, I had to withdraw. (I was going to get my Master's in Appalachian Studies...something I would still like to do eventually. Maybe after I retire...)

I've been working at EKU now for a little over a year. I work in IT. Its a great job. I enjoy it. I love working for EKU. But I want to help people. It is my calling I think. Sometimes it just feels like I'm not doing enough to make a contribution to society. So, after some research I decided to apply to UK's graduate school in the Social Work program. It didn't require a background in Social Work to be admitted. So my acceptance was based soley on my academic record (thank you 3.5 GPA), my personal essays (thank you my past English teachers), and my reference letters (thank you Joyce, Sherry, and Retha).

I think I'll be a good Social Worker. I don't particularly want to work with the children. That sounds odd I'm sure, coming from someone that loves kids as much as I do. I just don't want to be associated, in a child's mind, with being taken away from their home or their parents...even if they NEED to be taken away from either place. I would much rather work with adults. So I'm hoping for a job in either the prison system or something along the lines of a women's center or abuse shelter. Which is why I am also going to pursue a Graduate Certificate in Women's and Gender Studies while also getting my Master's in Social Work.

So yeah, I'm gonna be a busy gal for the next two years or so.

I think it will be worth it though. :-)

Pray for me! :-)

Homeward Bound (Day 9)

The last official day of our vacation. (Thank goodness...because not only was I tired of the vacation at this point, but I'm actually quite tired of writing about it as well. :-P)

Day nine was simple enough, we were on the road, somewhere in the central portion of the state, heading back North to the San Francisco International Airport.

Lots and lots and lots of driving.

California is a pretty state. Lots to see and do. I wasn't impressed with the cities...obviously. The countryside was nice though. We did a lot of driving that last day through the more "farm friendly" portions of the state. Lots of roadside stands full of farm fresh goodies. We were tempted to stop at quite a few of them, but we didn't really have time. :-(

Not a lot of photos either. I'll go through mine and see if I have any from Day 9. There may have been a few from the little town we spend night at, but I'll check and see.

It was a nice drive...just a long one. :-/

We made it to the airport with about an hour to spare. Good thing too because it took us a lot longer to get boarded in San Francisco than it did in Ohio. I also got lost...in the airport. Go figure. I was trying to navigate to where I needed to drop off my rental car and just couldn't quite find the right parking lot. I called the information desk of the rental company for help, and they weren't any help at all. So I gave up and did it on my own. Found it much easier that way anyway...maybe I don't need to take too many directions from folks. Who knows? At any rate, we dropped off the rental (and for the record, I've never heard anything else out of them about the wreck in Arizona, so I am assuming it is all taken care of...at no cost to me. Thank goodness!) and found our way to our gate. Five hours or so later and we were landing back home.

Ahhhh...it was nice to smell that Kentucky air and ride on those familiar roads. Seems like in no time at all we were back home. And I was fast asleep for a LONG nap in my own comfy bed. :-)

*Pictures soon...hopefully.