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The much sought after post
with 22,888 hits (& counting) to-date.
11 hits on this post today, which means that quite a few folks were ‘Googling‘ (i.e., searching on) “Nude Beaches New Hampshire” (or similar) TODAY.
Look at the stats above. This post gets hits year around — albeit with more in the Summer months (when it makes sense).
I am NOT complaining. It just amuses I. Maybe folks are looking ahead to the Spring.
P.S., All beaches in New Hampshire are nude after dark. SMILE. I would know.
.by Anura Guruge
March 11, 2011 to September 16, 2013.
He was one heck of a dog. A golden’s golden; the quintessential ‘everybody loves me and I love everybody’, no-care-in-the-world, tail wagging, tongue lolling, friendly as can be ‘show’ golden.
I have had him just as he was turning 8 weeks. The breeder, from whom I had bought two previous goldens, called me up the day he got his last tests, last shots and got a certificate of release from the vet. I drove to Surry, NH, right away to pick him up. I happened to get him in the only (albeit brief) period of my adult life, i.e., since I was 18, when I was encumbered and living by myself. So it was just Ulysses, named after ‘Grant‘, and me in this big house, by the water on Winnipesaukee. As I still do now, I was running six days a week then. Ulysses started running with me the next day though he only managed about 100 yards. I carried him back. But, he ran again that afternoon. Within three months he could do the whole 2.5 mile loop with me, around Varney Point, Gilford, along with the elevation. He loved to run. To be fair he didn’t know any other life. Running with me, in the mornings, was what he did. suffice to say he was one heck of a fit dog, especially as I would also walk him in the evenings and take him swimming. He ran with me, without fail, until I he was 10. Then Deanna started walking him and he became Deanna’s dog.
All that running did him well. He never had any hip problems. Even yesterday, when he came with us to the dump and was slowly walking around, people were admiring him and were hard pressed to believe that he was 12.5 years old. Yesterday we knew.
I had known for about 3 weeks. Deanna did not, understandably, want to let go and he was still happy though in discomfort and rapidly losing strength. His appetite, and he always took after me, was healthy till the very end. He had two slices of cheese and as a treat macaroni and cheese right before the end. He associated me with food and treats. If I was in the kitchen he assumed he would get a treat. So even this morning, though we tried to stop him, when he saw me in the kitchen, he got up, painfully, and ambled over, tail slowly wagging, waiting for a treat. I gave him more cheese than I normally do. The macaroni cheese, left over from Devanee, was a bonus. Over the last three weeks he had trouble dealing with rawhide treats or anything too hard. So I would give him soft treats while Maya had the rawhide and pig’s ears.
We were ‘lucky’. The Pembroke Animal Hospital, our new vet, yet again did us proud and impressed us no end (and I will write about that later). They sent an OUTSTANDING vet, Dr. Donna Peck, for a house call! That was good. We wanted Ulysses to be at home. We did not want to drag him to a vet’s office. She was amazing. We really lucked out. She spent over an hour with us, seated on the floor, with Ulysses. She assured us that we were doing the right thing. This morning he couldn’t stand up to begin with, though he overcame that once the pain medication we were giving him kicked in. But, he was not doing well. He had a lot of growths and his spine was bothering him though he never cried.
He had a good life. He was a happy dog. No cares in the world. He knew that he would be fed (and get treats from me) and that somebody would walk him whenever he wanted to go out. I think he missed his runs. He would watch me going running with Maya. He didn’t try to come though a few times he would trot with me — just like the old days.
He was an elegant, stately trotter. Just like a show horse. No running. He would trot. It was very precise.
We will miss him. Before I met Deanna I used to say that he, indubitably, was the best blonde I had ever had. He was my fourth golden.
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…by Anura Guruge
Writing about the forthcoming Huggins Fair yesterday, got me thinking about this far from amusing incident with Huggins — and I knew I had no choice but to share it with you.
It was Fall 2007 and I was seeing an urologist in Manchester, NH — next to Elliott Hospital. I needed to get a PSA test done before my next visit.
My primary care doctor at the time was based in Alton (where I had recently moved to) and was affiliated with Huggins Hospital. They could draw blood, enter the necessary ‘stuff’ into the computer and then sent the vials off to Wolfeboro to be tested at the hospital. It was certainly more convenient than having to drive to Wolfeboro. Plus, you typically got faster service in Alton. So, I arranged to have my blood drawn in Alton and to have the results sent back to them.
My appointment with the urologist was on a Thursday. I was going to swing by the Alton office on Wednesday afternoon and pick the results.
I get a call from a nurse in Alton that Wednesday afternoon. She says that my results are in, but that they are NOT good. The PSA score had been marked as HIGH.
I was devastated. I had never expected any issues, at that juncture, with my prostate. Usually my PSA was always on the low side; below ‘1’. Now I had a nurse telling me that my PSA was high.
I still had the presence of mind to ask her what the reading was. She said it was ‘0.1’. I got her to repeat it. ‘0.1’. It was below ‘1’. But, it was supposed to be high. I told her I will be there shortly to pick up the result sheet.
I did a Google. ‘0.1’ was way LOW. Not high. Deanna drove me to the doctor’s office. I was in a trance. Long ago having seen what it did to folks I had vowed that I would never have my prostate taken out. Worst case I would go with pellets. If they could only guarantee 8 years, that was still ‘OK’ with me. So, I was, in my mind, already getting mentally prepared for the pellets. I called up my eldest daughter. She told me not to worry and that all will be OK.
I saw the nurse and got the result sheet. She showed me where there was a big, BOLD ‘H’ to denote that the ‘0.1. reading was high — and per the range, it indeed was very high.
Next morning we all went to Manchester. I was still dazed.
My urologist is great. A good Catholic. I had given him a copy of my first pope book. He liked it.
I told him the results and gave him the sheet. He read it, carefully. He told me that it was strange. He said that ‘0.1’ should not be high. I said, I thought that. I asked him if the test has changed, with a new scale of readings. He said ‘No’.
He was confused. He told me not to worry. That he was going to call Huggins. He said that I would need to get the test done again — at a different lab.
He told me he would call me. That was the end of the appointment.
I was still crushed. The kids needed to go to the bathroom. Finally we were ready to leave and were trooping out of the door of the main building. A couple came up behind us and said that the doctor was looking for me and that I should go back.
So we trooped back upstairs. The receptionist called the doctor. He appeared with a BIG GRIN on his face.
‘Mystery solved. Your results are fine. Way below ‘1’. You are good. Huggins had YOU coded as a FEMALE!’
So all of that was because Huggins had me in their computer as a FEMALE.
Well, I wasn’t new to Huggins. They had done blood work for me before. I had also had Cat-Scans at Huggins. So, it wasn’t as if I was new to them. Plus, in whichever light or direction you look at me, I do not look un-masculine.
I was relieved, but now was bummed.
When I got home I checked. To my amazement I found out that they indeed do PSA testing of women — and for a woman ‘0.1’ PSA is high. I think that in the main such testing has to do with transgender issues.
Now I was at the ‘get even’ stage. Called up a couple of my favorite lawyers. I wanted to sue the pants off Huggins.
Crushed again. Would YOU believe this: I had NOT suffered enough pain!
Yep, 24 hours of mental anguish, however, severe is considered bagatelle by the system. So much for the you can sue on a dime theory. I was told the BEST I could hope for was to get Huggins to refund me for the PSA test!
Well, maybe this story might help somebody else. Check the gender on your PSA results.
…by Anura Guruge
Not sure why but this year’s Huggins Fair does not seem to be getting much publicity. To be fair, they probably don’t need it. Those that know, know it is always the first Friday and Saturday of August.
It is one of our perennial favorites and we were distraught that we could not attend last year because we had to go to Boston to meet with a cousin visiting from Canada.
I have been going to the Huggins Fair since 1993. I had a place on Shaw’s Pond, 6 miles down the road from Wolfeboro. My neighbor there, Pauline, would readily admit that Huggins Fair was the highlight of her year. She would shepherd her whole large family over to the Brewster grounds early on Friday morning so that they could be right up front, by the ribbons, when the fair was officially opened at 10 am. As part of her extended family, I too started going there before the Fair started. I don’t do that anymore. I go late on Saturday evening, instead.
This is by no means the largest, fanciest or exciting fairs of NH. It does not set out to be any of that. The tone is more of languid NE charm. You can’t beat the location. The views of Winnipesaukee are spectacular. It is a wonderfully friendly atmosphere. The kids love the rides. The food always smells great.
The huge book tent is my favorite. Don’t forget that Wolfeboro has as its residents some heavy duty intellectuals and Old Money (not to mention Romney). So you will always find some interesting, possibly even rare non-fiction books. Over the years I have picked up some wonderful art, religion, travel and biography books at the fair.
So, this is just a heads up. If you are there around 5pm on Saturday you should see me. I will be the only brown guy wandering around.