The last month has been really tough so I was in danger of having my own system shutdown besides our computer (or better said, all technological devices in our house). So Gregor decided to take me and The Waffle for a short break in Bovec. There we wandered around, enjoyed the fresh air and most of all, unburdened from our everyday lives and worries. Sambo got better too – last week Sambo had some digestion problems for a couple of days and didn't want to eat almost anything, so he nearly slimmed to his former body weight – he got to 25,6 kg and was almost as skinny as until three years ago. In Bovec the situation got back to normal again, which meant that his spirits were also high and above again (before it showed that he wasn't his 100% self, even though he was still hyper compared to the majority of the doggie population). Yesterday we went for a slightly uphill walk near water-storage lake and Sambo decided to assimilate to the mountain environment and pose for a chamois. We were walking on a path cca 1m wide, there was a rock wall on our right and on our left… well, nothing for two metres and then a steep slope, half rocky, half with trees. Sambo zoomed back and forth with his twiggly legs and explored the terrain.
When we finally turned back the Geriatric Waffle ran ahead merrily in his TM working trot and I started explaining something to Gregor. Sambo looked back at us right in the moment when I swinged with my arm through the air, which he apparently translated to himself in agility terms, meaning that he should move left. The thing is that we were on a narrow track that about 20 m ahead of us lifted up and joined the above mentioned path, so there was a practically vertical wall a bit over 150 cm high on our left. But he didn't bother too much with it, a dog's gotta do what a dog's gotta do. If you have to go left, you go left. While I was talking I saw Sambo trotting steadily in front of us. Then I saw a piece of moss, flying off from the middle of the wall. Then I saw Sambo, running at the same speed on the walking path above us. Not even 200 m further on a narrow trail appeared on the right of the paved path and lowered onto the slope beneath us. Sambo went down it, of course, finding himself two metres below us and sniffing the ground happily. For a minute or so he was really enjoying it, but then he didn't find it as amusing as before; he wasn't beside us, so he started whining and looking how could he get back to us again. I saw that the slope lifts a bit 20 m further on and that he could get up to us there. So I told him to go (on ahead of us). He interpreted it as if he had to go to us (upwards). This time he wasn't even running – from the same spot, standing on a slope, he pushed off, came with his front feet over the edge and pulled himself up on the path. A shake of the coat, a smile towards us and he was good to go. I don't know why I even wonder anymore…
There you have it, this was our trip to Bovec and now we're off for a walk (and by the way I'll take a look if he's hiding a blue and red cape in his kennel…).
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Bird styling VS Spitting cobra
I have to admit that a hairstylist hasn't had the chance to operate on me, but I do get a treatment from my bird stylist every now and then. The last few years I've managed to civilize myself to such an extent that I comb my hair almost every day, but I live my enormous combing ambitions through Sambo. I'm the type of person that can easily spend a few hours a day working with a dog, taking him on walks, teaching him tricks etc, but if I would have to comb him 15 min a day… No way Jose. Except for the month, month and a half when he sheds I can confess that the closest thing that comes to me combing Sambo is when I walk across the living room with a fork in my hand, trip and go through Sambo's coat twice while trying to regain my balance. Anywho, I manage to somehow take care at least of my hair, with which our bird loves to help me, as he likes to go through my hair with his beak when he's on my shoulder. My bird stylist, what can I say. And now that you know all this I'd like to proudly announce that Sambo was comben on Sunday! Don't ask me why, but I felt like combing him and I did. Yes, with bravoury and courage beyond all praise I engaged into this daring activity and successfully dealt with it. And so, 4 min and 27 sec later Sambo was looking fine and as good as new, but even though our spirits were high after such a great success we both needed to relax, so we went to Kurešček, where the black monster ran and ran and yes, you know it, ran some more. Sometimes I look at him and wonder how does he manage to keep his legs attached to him, how come they don't just unbuckle and fall off, I really can't understand how he manages to run around tirelessly for such a long time (and most of all, where does he find the will to do it), not to mention that I haven't seen such a quick paced trot even in Standardbred horses…
Of course he likes to show off with his trot, especially when we go running and I'm ready to be plugged onto a respirator after half an hour. At that time he usually runs to me and runs by my side a few metres, looking at me with the biggest smile possible. Then he figures out that I'm too slow and uninteresting, so he continues his journey, leaving me behind again. The other day I decided to try and variegate my running expeditions; I often see runners with headphones on so I wated to try it out myself. I borrowed an mp3 player from my darling and hoped to have a very pleasant run since I knew he has some Hammerfalls on, so I expected a good portion of metal rock to stimulate me. You can only imagine my face when I raised the volume at the end of our street to figure out which Hammerfall song comes with weird drums and heard a kind of oriental bleating. It is fruitless to argue about different tastes in music (and other things, of course), but the fact is that oriental music is certainly not what I prefer to listen to, whereas Gregor's fascination over Tunis left other, less pleasant side effects for me. One of them is certainly that I expected some Swedish metal rockers and got Turkish serenaders. I was already too far from home to turn back and leave the mp3 player at home and I didn't feel like carrying it without making some use of it, so I let Mr. Turkey carry on with his act. I managed to somehow ignore the music, which served as only a very mild background anyway, and after half an hour it grew upon me so much so that I added some elements of oriental dancing to my running. I tripped over a root when running throgh the woods, so I performed a sequence with the elements Lif your arms up to your side – shake your booty – wave your arms in front of you – spin your head while looking for balance – leap ahead and land in a perfect Telmark with your hands in a Walk like an Egyptian position in the middle of my marathon. In front of a public, what else, because it wouldn't be half as interesting if three runners wouldn't be passing by in that same moment…
Besides the interdisciplinarity and including elements of other sports and arts into my running episodes I have to admit another, less apetising habit that contributes to the second part of today's title. When I run all bodily functions that excrete any kind of facial secret start working with full power from a reason unknown to me. To put it plainly, when I'm running I have to blow my nose and rub my eyes all the time and also spit every now and then. And so it happened that in this session I spat precisely the instant that Sambo was passing me on my right (now you know why you always have to pass people on their left). Luckily the projectile only touched him slightly, but since it was so cold he came home with gel on his hair tips and visible decorative crystals. And that was the beginning of Sambo Swarowski… anyhow, I have to mention that I grew so much attached to my Turkish jingling friends that after half an hour I was almost disappointed to hear Billy and be left out without their pleasant company. Almost! Dancing with myself, Rebel yell and Shock to the system are a wonderful background accompaniment for more dynamic running sessions, I tell you. Thus I came home totally exhausted (it would be wise to change the order next time since the Turkish buddies are quite calmer and slower, much more suitable for the second part of the session, when the batteries aren't as full) and in a kind of pirate state. Because of the before mentioned trip over a root my ankle was hurting, so on the upwards slope right before home I dragged my foot behind me as if it were wooden and because of the wind and the cold my left eye watered so much that I almost washed out the contact lense a few times – towards the end I didn't have to worry about it anymore because it froze to my eye which converted into glass…
To the ones that are still reading – good news, my webmaster has finally updated the page, welcome to www.sambo.si , where you can find some new pics and links while the latest news are always here anyway.
And to end, here are a few pics of our trip to Kurešček. Take care!
Sambo in the wind
Running through the forest
Marching: left...
... and right
Spriiiiiiiiiiint!
Karate Kid :)
Of course he likes to show off with his trot, especially when we go running and I'm ready to be plugged onto a respirator after half an hour. At that time he usually runs to me and runs by my side a few metres, looking at me with the biggest smile possible. Then he figures out that I'm too slow and uninteresting, so he continues his journey, leaving me behind again. The other day I decided to try and variegate my running expeditions; I often see runners with headphones on so I wated to try it out myself. I borrowed an mp3 player from my darling and hoped to have a very pleasant run since I knew he has some Hammerfalls on, so I expected a good portion of metal rock to stimulate me. You can only imagine my face when I raised the volume at the end of our street to figure out which Hammerfall song comes with weird drums and heard a kind of oriental bleating. It is fruitless to argue about different tastes in music (and other things, of course), but the fact is that oriental music is certainly not what I prefer to listen to, whereas Gregor's fascination over Tunis left other, less pleasant side effects for me. One of them is certainly that I expected some Swedish metal rockers and got Turkish serenaders. I was already too far from home to turn back and leave the mp3 player at home and I didn't feel like carrying it without making some use of it, so I let Mr. Turkey carry on with his act. I managed to somehow ignore the music, which served as only a very mild background anyway, and after half an hour it grew upon me so much so that I added some elements of oriental dancing to my running. I tripped over a root when running throgh the woods, so I performed a sequence with the elements Lif your arms up to your side – shake your booty – wave your arms in front of you – spin your head while looking for balance – leap ahead and land in a perfect Telmark with your hands in a Walk like an Egyptian position in the middle of my marathon. In front of a public, what else, because it wouldn't be half as interesting if three runners wouldn't be passing by in that same moment…
Besides the interdisciplinarity and including elements of other sports and arts into my running episodes I have to admit another, less apetising habit that contributes to the second part of today's title. When I run all bodily functions that excrete any kind of facial secret start working with full power from a reason unknown to me. To put it plainly, when I'm running I have to blow my nose and rub my eyes all the time and also spit every now and then. And so it happened that in this session I spat precisely the instant that Sambo was passing me on my right (now you know why you always have to pass people on their left). Luckily the projectile only touched him slightly, but since it was so cold he came home with gel on his hair tips and visible decorative crystals. And that was the beginning of Sambo Swarowski… anyhow, I have to mention that I grew so much attached to my Turkish jingling friends that after half an hour I was almost disappointed to hear Billy and be left out without their pleasant company. Almost! Dancing with myself, Rebel yell and Shock to the system are a wonderful background accompaniment for more dynamic running sessions, I tell you. Thus I came home totally exhausted (it would be wise to change the order next time since the Turkish buddies are quite calmer and slower, much more suitable for the second part of the session, when the batteries aren't as full) and in a kind of pirate state. Because of the before mentioned trip over a root my ankle was hurting, so on the upwards slope right before home I dragged my foot behind me as if it were wooden and because of the wind and the cold my left eye watered so much that I almost washed out the contact lense a few times – towards the end I didn't have to worry about it anymore because it froze to my eye which converted into glass…
To the ones that are still reading – good news, my webmaster has finally updated the page, welcome to www.sambo.si , where you can find some new pics and links while the latest news are always here anyway.
And to end, here are a few pics of our trip to Kurešček. Take care!
Sambo in the wind
Running through the forest
Marching: left...
... and right
Spriiiiiiiiiiint!
Karate Kid :)
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Multitasking
The last few days have been quite variegated here in Groenenland. More for me than the Black Death, I confess. Dad's on a business trip, cut off from civilisation, without a car, a computer… Wait a minute, thinking it well, we're in the same situation??? Yeah, it's true, the system shutdown hasn't ended yet. First his car broke down, then 'mine' (in joint use with my mom), then his computer… Of course this happened now, when there's much to be done about his business and also other stuff, which is on the verge of possibility without a comp and a vehicle. Meanwhile my dear Kia is already safely at home, but the rest is still on hold. So now, besides my regular duties as a student and instructor, I'm functioning also as an economist, a translator, a secretary, a diplomat and a delivery boy, to mention just a few. Bored I am not, that I can say. With all this work I had to give myself a treat – so I did, yesterday my mom and I went to see Champions on ice, an ice-skating show where we cheered for the skaters in person for the first time. yes, for him too. The first minute of the act wasn't that spectacular at all, but then Plushenko got animated and did a really good show. To tell the truth, I think Plushenko could come on the ice with a nail clipper and have his nails done and still get a big applause. To get things straight, he is not my favourite skater, he shares the throne with three other skaters that alternately get to the top position, but one simply cannot deny his talent and incredible achievements.
But enough about my weird taste for sports. Sambo… it still Sambo, still hyper-neurotic, but unlike the last two weeks he spends a little less time in a floating state. But he still spends most of his time with his denture outside, showing it to practically everybody, hopping aorund, running, herding his favourite sheep (his friend Klark) whom he blocks from the front, the back, attacks him from an ambush like a well-trained guerilla, wrestles with him and is all in all so bouncy that one cannot look at him without smiling. Moreover, we made good use of the last week, which was mostly rainy, to start learning three new tricks with which we're making good progress – he already more or less knows two of them so I'm only refining them and we're only shaping the last one, but it's going well too. What else could one expect from such a talented stuednt and such a fine instructor. Speaking of – my second pupil, the neighbour, has successfuly passed the test and avoided a summer school of English. But she managed to give me a good laugh the other day when we were doing some word formation - making different words from a same root. She didn't have any problems with the example 'I value your (friend) very much', she immediately said that the correct answer is 'friendship'. The next example was something like ''This invention contributed to (man) and its future.' She scratched her head for about 15 seconds, then turned to me with a victorious look on her face and said 'MANURE!' At first I managed to contain myself, but then I couldn't help myself anymore and bursted in laughter that lasted for about two minutes. Oh well, I never said we're planning on getting a straight A… (But I sure have to give her credit for originality!).
But enough about my weird taste for sports. Sambo… it still Sambo, still hyper-neurotic, but unlike the last two weeks he spends a little less time in a floating state. But he still spends most of his time with his denture outside, showing it to practically everybody, hopping aorund, running, herding his favourite sheep (his friend Klark) whom he blocks from the front, the back, attacks him from an ambush like a well-trained guerilla, wrestles with him and is all in all so bouncy that one cannot look at him without smiling. Moreover, we made good use of the last week, which was mostly rainy, to start learning three new tricks with which we're making good progress – he already more or less knows two of them so I'm only refining them and we're only shaping the last one, but it's going well too. What else could one expect from such a talented stuednt and such a fine instructor. Speaking of – my second pupil, the neighbour, has successfuly passed the test and avoided a summer school of English. But she managed to give me a good laugh the other day when we were doing some word formation - making different words from a same root. She didn't have any problems with the example 'I value your (friend) very much', she immediately said that the correct answer is 'friendship'. The next example was something like ''This invention contributed to (man) and its future.' She scratched her head for about 15 seconds, then turned to me with a victorious look on her face and said 'MANURE!' At first I managed to contain myself, but then I couldn't help myself anymore and bursted in laughter that lasted for about two minutes. Oh well, I never said we're planning on getting a straight A… (But I sure have to give her credit for originality!).
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