Follow Thru

My goal this weekend was to find a carniceria: A Mexican meat market. Not THAT kind of meat market, butcher shop. The carniceriasI have been using for the past couple of years have moved or gone out of business. The Mexicans have all kinds of what I call “flat meats”, different cuts of meat cut very thin for different kinds of Mexican dishes I suppose. I have found the flat meat very convenient for the Asian cooking I like to do. This time of year I like to marinate the pieces of meat and barbeque the meat and serve over rice and mixed vegetables. I don’t work off a recipe but hen I was in university we lived for a while in “married housing” and made some very good friends from Malaysia. The summer were in married housing a lot of us in the complex congregated nightly round the playground/sand box with little hibachi’s and grill dinner. All of the Asians would bring their rice cookers and grill their flat meat and vegetables and we all shared. It was fun.

Dianne helped in my flat meat quest and found a couple carnicerias in Salt Lake. In fact going into Salt Lake on Friday evening in search for one of the carnicerias that we ended up eating at Café Med. Café Med is just a couple of blocks from one of the markets. Café Med is a nice place, hidden treasure, and kinda of upscale but not bad—actually Dianne was much better dressed then I. I don’t even think I wore shoes and basically hid my feet with my back pack. I know that’s cheep but hey, that’s how I roll.

The Mexican meat market we found used to be a cigarette shop. I was surprised to see the smoke shop gone but intrigued to see it had morphed into a meat market. We pulled the van into the parking area a little after 8:00 p.m. and I was surprised to see there was limited parking available not that there was sufficient parking but that all the parking were taken. Dianne finally parked on the other side of the building and I powered into the market. The place was wall to wall stuffed with Hispanic people. I am always impressed at being in a place where no English is spoke at all. Kids screaming, old ladies picking and pointing at stuff and everyone staring at the gringo in the power wheelchair. I powered myself over to the meat section looked at all the different kinds of meat wandering what they all meant. After a minute or two I finally got the attention of the butcher and pointed to wanted holding up three fingers to signify the poundage I wanted. Soon, I was grinning and back to the van.

I made to different marinades and slipped locked half the beef in each.I was going to grill on Sunday but Sunday came and we were hot and busy. We shopped and wandered all over the valley I even got rained on at Wal-mart. But the truth is I was exhausted by the time we got home and nothing got grilled last night and I don’t know just when I will be able to get back to my flat meat.

One More Sunday--

I am still amazed at how quickly Sundays even on three day weekends but be that as it may I am always to get back to work come Monday mornings. I have things to do an a four day week means I have to be moving quicker then I have been.

We going out to lunch shortly, Shanghai one of favorite places. This will be the second time this weekend. I am using Dianne's departure as the justification--really life is too short, we have the mans right now so why not. Friday we went to the Cafe Med and the meal was great-we had not intended to but just worked out that way. We really had a great time and should frequent the "Med" more often. The best part is I have had some "flat meat" I got at the Mex market on Friday(which was why we ended up going to Cafe Med if the first place) later on today I planning on cooking the meat up outside.

Hot Winds

It really is the perfect time of year for me. Outside the winds of heat are gusting, wet clothes dry in minutes. It’s perfect weather to sit outside and read, drink ice water and watch the world or neighborhood pass by. We’re sleeping with the windows wide open and the warm winds blow all night l9ng broken by the occasional train whistle. This morning I actually slept till 7:00 a.m. and just relaxed—ground some coffee n when Ani got up we went up to Beans and Brews and spent an hour or so watching the weirdos.

The best part of the day was dialing in to the video I produced yesterday and found the video working. I have it on this posting. I even called my boss to let her know, I never call my boss on the weekend for any reason.

http://www.ustream.tv/myvideos/1/1778394

Somebody Save Me

It’s Broadcast Day I usually love Broad Cast Day. I am excited some one new is coming into the office; the regular flow of the office is disrupted and we get to mess with broadcast equipment, computers and camera and the INTERNET. The broadcast is a small deal which feels like a big deal and I am sort of in charge. We have done enough broadcasts now the process is becoming routine at least it has been. Today is different. Readers might remember a couple of months ago our office was invaded and my laptop was stolen luckily the office had a older lap top which we have been using the past couple of months. However, recently however, we have been able to replace the stolen lap top with a new HP, a lap top with a camera built into the actually computer which I have mixed feeling but it seems to work good enough in our tests.

We did the broadcast and the broadcast seemed to come off OK…seemed is the operative word here. It has been more then five hours since the broadcast concluded and the video has yet to post. Today’s broadcast show up on the archived broadcasts but when you click on the video to show it the screen remains blank. Of course the boss usually does not car too much but today’s broadcast was with the boss and she wants to see it and she wanted her friends to see the broadcast as well. Then some agency person emailed the announcement to everywhere in the State system and of course everyone is getting a black screen and ‘yours truly’ gets called into the office. So, I get on the horn to “control” to see if what they can do. My main contact is a guy named Mazy, who has helped me in the past. I was surprised to get him, direct on my first dial, not message machine or anything. Mazy was on his way to some meeting or something but did accept my email with a link to the troubled page. I am just hoping one of their techs can resolve the issue.

We did everything the same way we always did except we were using new equipment but the process seemed the same. Oh did I mention this is the first broadcast we have done with out my partner Tory, who left this office the last of May. I have to admit Tory I a bit of a tech head. She has a knack for things electronic. Tory always finished the broadcasts and got the video posted with out issue. I doubt just her gone has made that much difference but then maybe it has…we miss you Tory…are you happy now? We really, really miss you.







































`

Papers Please!!

I expect Mondays to be weird especially Mondays following national holidays. It’s like weirdos have all this pent up energy from having to go a day with being able to harass public servants. . Yesterday my days took a serious turn into Weirdville I got an Instant Message from the office Manager, FDB, saying she needed rescued from a “walk in” who had stopped talking as now just sitting in the reception area and would not leave.

I had been working on the newest edition of our on-line newsletter and the task was not well and I thought I needed a break but I was not prepared for what I was about to roll into. FDB is a professional and little rattles her—FDB has been through a lot and seen most everything. So, I was fairly interested in who had rattled the pro and there she sat, a middle aged with gray hair braided into one long pig tail which she wore over shoulder down to below her wait. This women was dressed nicely-she was not your run of the mill homeless/crazy person who often drift into out building. She had what appeared to be a large handbag/pouch and was studying one of the documents FDB had thrown at her in order to shut her up. I never did get the name of this person but I am going to call her Olga, which I feel is a fine Russian name for this women who would at least acknowledge she had at one time come from Russia.

Olga, with a heavy Russian accent, so deep that I was not able to follow her conversation and on top of her accent was her question understanding of the English language, which I think she felt she understood very well—which I don’t think she did as much as she thought. Olga had a round Slavic/European framed in gray hair all hidden behind a huge set of glasses which comically magnified her eyes—those washed out blue eyes which suspiciously, darted back and forth. Olga demanded information, she did not ask for information, like some one from the KGB version of the AARP never believing a single word told her. Olga was convinced that our agency kept files and records on the folk we served. She wanted to know how long we kept files and could not understand that we did not keep such documents since we really don’t service clients, parients or consumers or what ever. Then Olga demanded our cards “ sort of like having you “papers” demanded. She next demanded lists of agency and programs which services people with disabilities all the while speaking in a desperate Russian accent. I asked Olga back to my office but she refused to move. I know she thought I was going to kidnap her and sell her to the white slave trade; I could really tell Olga operated under major illusions of grandeur.

Olga finally left after an hour or so of word games and after she thought she had tripped me up by admitting that I was trying to increase the number of people with disabilities, she interrupted this to mean I was trying to make he world disabled—she truly believed I was maniacal—which I am sure that I am just not in the way Olga perceives. I thought sure Olga would be back today demanding more documents of one kind or another. I documented Olga as a “drop in” some one who physically enters our office looking for services one way or another. But I have not seen her yet and the day is not over yet. She could be lurking in the hall way in an over coat and sunglasses.

I Can Do This!!

Not this Friday but next Friday Dianne is leaving for Louisiana for a wedding of one of her nieces and more importantly to spend some quality time with her family. Dianne only gets do see her family every couple of years or so and I know not being able to see her folks has been difficult on her. I will not be going with Dianne partially due to financial constraints but also physical. Homes are accessible, transportation and some fast traveling Dianne will be doing all round the Gulf Coast and the Carolin's.

I have only recently discovered that one of the reasons Dianne has put off traveling as much as she has is on account of me and my seemingly, declining ability of taking care of myself!! A couple of years ago I would have scoffed at such reasoning but of late I have to admit I have become somewhat concerned as I think of Dianne being gone for more then a week. And it’s not that Dianne provides my attendant care, if fact she provides very minimal attendant care. I am up in the morning way early, shower, shave and dressed and I am out the door most of the time without having to bother her at all. The point is I know that Dianne is there if I need her if I should slip and fall. It may take a while for her to respond but at least she will respond and be able to get me the attention I need to resolve any problem(s) I might be having. With Dianne leaving now, for at least a week maybe even longer I will be on my own…kinda, I have to admit I have been feeling kind of nervous and I never have had these feeling before.

But yesterday I decided, “you know what?” I am not going to let this challenge get me down or change my life style!! If something happens and I fall, I fall. If I fall I just get myself righted and take care of the problem True taking car of the problem will be a hassle but I am sure I will be up to what ever happens. The biggest issue since I doubt I would be able to actually lift or drag myself back into my chair I would have to get word out to son(s) or brother or cousins and worst case neighbors or emergency folk—I would be a little embarrassed but I would get bye, I always do. So in the next week or so I have to set up systems of communication incase something does happen, alert folks I need to and then just go with the flow. I am going to be OK.

Clanning

It’s Independence Day. Happy Fourth of July!! The Fourth of July brings back how strange living in my family was. My mom was Canadian as was my next oldest brother, Ross and it’s not that we did not celebrate the 4th as much as we tended to endure the 4th—and that is not fair either. Being raised LDS the July holiday we tended to really celebrate was the 24th of July, or Pioneer Day as the holiday is referenced in Utah. Never mind that the 4th was a national holiday, meaning my dad was free to stay home and work on the farm versus working on someone’s air conditioner for his job.

I say “endure” because we tended to have to work, especially when dad was home, and that was the case on weekends and national holidays. Dad was able to supervise, working on the house, shingling, or bringing in then hay, irrigating or what ever, depending when the holiday fell—in those days when a holiday was celebrated on the day it fell no matter what. But I do have to admit there was also a fair amount of joy to the day as the Fourth of July was also a day of “clanning” as meager as our clan tended tobe. In Boise the ‘clan’ consisted of the Smiths ,Bassets and some times Walls. Every once in a while there were the Haroldsons but basically it was Smiths and Bassets.

I believe my mom was the driving force so such an event, thinking back. There was a time when we would actually commandeer a number of picnic tables at Julie Davis Park and congregate for an entire afternoon. Hot dogs, hamburgers, Clover Club potato chips and water melons, cold from being housed the Boise River for hours before their cutting. There were tons of cousins in those days and chaos was everywhere but good chaos. Following the meal and the melon the kids disappeared to the playground of the park and the adults settled down to chatting and sleeping for a couple of hours. The event was over by five o clock, cows needed to be milked. If we had sparklers we let them off but I don’t remember any fire works of danger, ever. We may have gone to the fireworks usually at the Bronco Stadium once. But that is something we just did not do was stay up late with milking cows in the early morning or with dad having to work---we rarely went even the 24th we stayed home…sigh. I understand now, being an ‘old guy’ but I missed the event then.

Symptom Free Me

I was up for a couple of hours this morning when I realized I was not having any problems swallowing and I had slept great. This was the first day I have been symptom free of my recent illness I have had these past two weeks. Amazing! It has been a quiet day today. Many business and government offices have been closed for the holiday. The banks have been open though—I took off this morning and went up to State street to my bank and pulled out cash for the holiday which might be needed, especially the ice` cream truck which has been trolling the neighborhood lately.

I came home from the bank and with Dianne’s help threw together a potato salad. That’s about all we have done for the holiday. I have couple of packs of ‘illegal’s’ stashed I have had for a couple of years. I don’t think I’ll do them all but I want to do a couple though just for principles. I have to watch out for my neighbor though who has threatened to turn in neighbors who fire off ‘illegal’s’. A couple of rowdy neighbors have moved in the hood this last year and have already launched some, maybe I’ll just mix mine in with theirs.

Back and it Rains

First day back in the office in almost two weeks! Thank goodness the phones have been slow but still I felt the pressure. A good sized thunder storm just pushed through and I am sixty minutes from going home time and the skies don’t look yet as if they are clearing. I just checked regional weather maps and there maybe another cell making it’s self ready to push into North Salt Lake. I’ll just have to wait and see,

I have spent the day playing catch up.

It's Just Weird

Its weird when Sheelan died, some ten years now, I went through this period of seeing her, or just thinking I had just seen Sheelan everywhere. It was really a Hitchcock experience, I would just see the last of her red hair in her power wheelchair just turn a corner out of sight. Or, I would look up and see a wheelchair van like hers turning a corner and feel sure I had glimpsed her at the wheel. Of course Sheelan was never there, she couldn’t be she was dead and I was just processing.

I am going through something similar now with mom’s passing. I am not seeing mom as much as feeling she is still “there”. Four or five times a day I think of something I should write mom about, or tell her about on my Sunday call before remembering that mom is dead, she is not there anymore and I am snapped back to reality but I still have the feeling and I feel the loss all over again. Everytime the phone rings, for one instant, I think that’s mom but its not. It’s just weird.

Medicine in ther Hood

Its hot outside. Its over 90 degrees and I have jus come in from being out in the community. I was n so much pain last night from my sore throat I had to call into work, again, sick and I had to get myself taken care of. Of course when I called into the office Bonnie told me not come in the rest of the week and I am almost ready to take her up on the offer, but feel I must get in atleast to return calls.

I was shocked when I called my doc at the university, my physiatrist, who I was given to believe was going to act as my general practioner, but I found would not do regular medical stuff like colds and sniffles. One of the reasons I decided to change my medical provider in the first place was the physiatrist would provide all of my support. So much for that idea, Anyway, I wanted to find a doc in rolling distance from my home. So Dianne went to work and found me a couple I want to consider plus she found me “Insta-Care” who would get me into day. The “insta-care” was not far from my home where I can easily get to the office in my powerchair and then to the pharmacy there after.

The “Insta-care” experience was OK: the usually filling out forms proving who I was and showing I had insurance. I did not even have to wait too long had I gone to my old practioner I would be waiting for at least an hour. I had a P.A. who seemed to know what she was doing and was very attentive. I was kind of impressed at how well I was treated at place. Yes, I would go back. The P.A. noted I had some liquid in my right lobe. She came out of the corner swinging and decided to aggressively attack the problem—indicating in most situations she would have waited a week before starting me on anti-biotic and wrote me a script for the “Z-pack” of the big guns in her arsenal. The P.A. also wrote me a concoction for a oral pain killer which should help me get some sleep.` Cool. Then she asked me if I needed a note for work, which I don’t think I did but got one anyway. I was loaded for bear.

I headed straight the Shopko pharmacy, the same I went to last week and I have come to believe, this particular pharmacy is staffed by aliens. Don’t ask me how I know this I just do. All of the pharmacists heads are slightly misshapen—you have to look closely but if one does you can tell. It took them atlast twenty minutes to fill my scripts so I did recon on the store…again. Made some sill purchases and hung out in the “Electronics “ department watching movies until I thought the aliens had filled my scripts. They hadn’t so I waited in line with all the other Tuesday Medicaid , seniors.

So I am almost well. /Dianne slammed the drugs into me as soon as I got home. I can feel then doing their stuff. I will feel better soon… I can hardly wait.

Please Read Me the Chart

Except for a few hours I went into work Tuesday I have been gone from my office and phones for nearly a week. Today I am off because I am taking today off for the forth of July, since holiday falls on Sunday this year. Even though I am feeling much better today, I don’t feel stellar, so, I am enjoying my holiday in “sick mode”.

More good news. I was sick of the pink eye I had that had quiet developed on Saturday and as I suffered through the night I realized there was an Eye World just up the street from house, and I knew they kept some kind of doc on sight. And sure enough when I called the girl who answered informed me there was a doc and he could write a script pink eye= conjunctivitis but I would have to make it in before 3:30 because when the doc was splitting. So I jumped in my chair and was gone.

Places like Eye World have always intrigued me—they are like the car dealerships of the eyes; everything is a little make believe from the girls on staff, to the frames and slick deals the staff tries to foist on you when all you want is a screw for the temple of your frames. When I roll in the door I am greeting my a little Hispanic chick, who reminds me of a skinny, short “Ugly Betty” but she is on the phone so it is difficult to tell if she is talking to me—so I did the whole “ are you talking to me thing” pointing at my self. But as I do this another “eye” person who is helping a mother daughter duo screams, “just a moment and I’ll help you!!” I could see Ugly Betty was pissed so I smiled at both and backed my chair to the far end of the waiting area and vainly searched for something to read.

Ugly Betty must have been new on staff because she had to keep asking the women who screamed at me technical questions about entering things into the computer cash register. Each time Ugly Betty had to ask one of these questions got a just a little more pissed. All I needed was a doc to look at my eyes and write me script and I had been to this place before to when I bought my last pair of glasses. But Ugly Betty shoved a clip board into my hands and handed me a dull pencil and asked I fill out the history and she headed back to wake up the doc or what ever.

The experience with the doc was as weird if not weirder then my experience with Ugly Betty. The guy presented himself in a set of wrinkled scrubs from the local medical school. He yawned , scratched his head and walked up to me and asked if I could get out of the chair. I thought he was interested in the extend of my disability but in a second ity dawned on me he wanted to know if I could get from my chair to a exam chair. I told the guy all I needed was a script to get the conjunctivitis gone from my eyes. Could he just not look at my eyes and give me what I needed but no, he was going to do the whole thing and we did. I almost slid of the chair twice and it took all of my strength to hold myself in the exam chair. We eventually got the exam finished and gratefully slid back into my powerchair and I got my script. This charade cost me $45.00 and of course , Ugly Betty did not know how to code my insurance I into the computer to bill the insurance people the other women with the beehive hair do was not going to assist. But I had my script and beat it over to Shop Ko next door and got the script filled $4.00.

By 9:00 PM most of the red had left my eyes and I was on my way to recovery. I am still coughing but I AM going to work tomorrow!

Time to see the Doc

I am still deathly ill. I have pushing liquids,staying in bed and being good but I am not getting any better--my eyes are red and itchy I have a persistent headache and sore throat and I cough all night. I need to see a doc now, I suppose but now it is Saturday and I guess the only option I have is the ER and I always feel such a fool when I show up at the ER. I had better hurry, I have to be back to work on Tuesday.

Life Goes On

Some folks say it’s because of the death of my mom and all the funeral stuff, family and general mourning but I have come down with some sort of cold of flu, hopefully not THAT flu. I just hate being sick in the summer especially now weather has finally decided to cooperate with the season and we are finally experiencing some hot weather at least for a little while.

I am home today the staff at the office sent me home after I became symptomatic yesterday at the office. I did feel feverish, I was coughing more and I apparently appeared flushed. I showed up mainly to send Tory—yesterday was Tory’s last day. Tory took today off( all the more reason for me to be at the office.) I was supposed to have a broadcast this week and I really did not want to cancel. We sent out to the Red Iguana for lunch and I started thinking what kind of dope am I? Staff is partially demanding I leave, go home and rest and not to come back until I am healthy so why not? So I called Dr Nakao, my scheduled guest for this week, who was more then happy to reschedule and I was out the door on my way to a glorious five day weekend.

So today, I am hacking round the house, sniffing but actually feel pretty good considering all things . I am really sick but it is also summer and I thing being sick in the summer, in some ways, is much better then being ill in the winter. It’s going to be 90 plus degrees so I am going to go out in my power chair and recline out on the deck and let the sun bake the poisons out of me.

Three Days

So it ends and so it begins. With mom’s passing there is the gathering of family coming together to pay the respects to the ‘senior’ family member. The family, who remains in Boise, who has done the lion’s share of care for mom since her relocation to Boise and final days of the cancer will be having a get together at the funeral home, there in Boise, probably Relyea’s. It’s will not be a funeral, just a viewing and a remembrance then the group will excuse themselves to the closest Chuck-a-rama. One of mom’s favorite places to go, where the illusion of more is better still applies. Sisters from out of state are going to Boise a and then I suppose coming to Utah for the service which will be more of a real funeral.


when I spoke with Carl, my brother who is sort of ramrodding this whole thing,he asked if I had access to a volume of poetry and thing my mom wrote years ago but I cannot find the poem anywhere. I also need to put a few thoughts together of what I remember about mom, I suppose. Carl said he needed the information for the life sketch but then I spoke with him yesterday afternoon it sounded like he was not going to talk with me again until Monday which would be to late for anything I might put together but I'll still throw something together.


We have been cleaning the house, folding clothes and getting ready for family, just incase. I have to admit i am getting a little excited at the prospect of seeing some of the family. This morning i actually woke feeling that if I thought I could trust my van to Boise I would have driven to Boise for today's events. There are many of the brothe's and sisters I will not see--and I will miss not seeing them at this time. But reality sucks.

A storm has blown in today, another storm--yesterday was great almost like June should be, better weather is expected next week. I started this post three days ago. Its been one of those slow motion weeks.

Mom Died Today

My mom died today. It was a long time coming and a relief to all especially mom. The last couple of years has been difficult on the woman with pain, relocation several times and being s Senior Citizen in America. I have written mom every week for the past couple of years, ever Wednesday, I have been able to get a letter, usually 250 words at least , double spaced, size 14 font. I am including the last letter I wrote today. I did not send it.

June 17, 2009

Dear Mom—The rain seems to be relentless this year; thankfully the over all temperature is cool but not cold and I have been lucky enough not to be caught out in a down pour. I have been sprinkled on but not drenched.

Well, Mom, looks like we are getting toward the end of this life. I am sorry to see you go but I think you are tired and hurting and need a rest and some quality time with Dad and grandfather and the others we know and love. The last couple of times I have called I don’t think you have been able to talk or understand that it was me on the phone.

Mom, I just want to say thanks for everything, for adopting me when no one else would and loving me and caring for me all these years. Sorry I have been such a hand full especially the wreck-I know we all could have done without the wreck. But, we did get along anyway. But we have a lot of good times though, birthdays, Christmases, family reunions Thanksgivings and New Years Eve celebration, but not many of those. We just did not do much New Year’s stuff. Thanks for ALLTHE MEALS, washed clothes and school lunches.

Farewell, and go with my love and tell everyone hi!…love eternally Mark

Amazement!

Mark A, Bridget and Gabe were planning on coming over this weekend, Saturday to mow the lawn and work on the yard. I have never had all three of them there working on and round the house at the same time. But as my luck seems to be there was a huge downpour on Saturday making doing anything in the yard without fins near to impossible.

Mark and Jasmine did come over to the house, just the same just as the clouds burst weeping copious amounts of cloud over the area. Mark was trying to get some work on my yard done before he was scheduled to attend his 10 year class reunion. Mark noticed his car acting weird, stopping due to dead battery. Mark was hoping that the problem was a issue with the battery itself (but the battery is less then a year old, or maybe the terminals just needed a good cleansing. Mark pulled the hood up and pulled off the terminals and jumped hid little red car with my gigantic white fan. He and Jasmine loaded but ended up calling from my local Maverick station needing a jump and maybe more Would I come out and help?

I of course responded that I would, after all I have been suffering a bit of guilt over the past two summers from mark being so diligent in cutting our grass as he has. He was not far from our local Smith’s When I got to were he and his van were parked he asked if I could or would take him over to AutoZone (AZ). Now, I know about AZ but I have never rally gone to the store because I never work on my own vehicles…or any one else’s for that matter. Autozone—there place where I noticed all the guys in Industrial(auto) Science ended up selling or working in some other capacity. The place where the parking lot is full folks working desperately on their vehicles with parts they had just purchased. Mark had deduced that since his terminals had just been cleaned and the batter still was not charging that the problem had to be a faulty alternator. And it was.

It was about two or a little later in the afternoon but felt much later since the thick carpet of black and gray clouds overhead made the time feel much later then the time actually was. Mark went in and minutes later returned with a shiny new alternator rebuild. I ferried him back to his vehicle on the side of the road and parked my car just be hind his so Mark would not be hit by right turning vehicles. Mark changed out the new for the old alternator in the next hour. I was amazed. I would not have attempted such a task, even if I had my hand and was able bodied. I just do not do well with this kind of stuff. I always end up with my screws then I should have and then the item still will not work. I can barely get by on USB technology, and Mark can whip something like this out and still make his class reunion. I wish I could somehow take credit but I can’t. I was doing all I could by watching Jasmine and keeping traffic at bay and away.

Time Flows

Yesterday was a good day, I was kept busy all day long. I don’t know if the window being wide open all night and the cool air flooding over my heavily blanked body with only my nose sticking out or maybe actually stayed up until midnight the night before but I slept heavy and deeply and woke very few times and got some great sleep. I woke feeling great.

Anakah had come over to send the evening and we spent the evening watching video’s following her swimming with Dianne at the Murray Pool, where Ani swam 44 laps or something, a first! I had only been up a hour or so when I heard Anakah calling my name as I puttered round the kitchen getting ready for the day. I was toying with the idea of cooking breakfast, bacon and eggs but Anakah has moved on from Bacon and eggs and I know likes to go out.

I had made arrangements earlier in the week to drop by Magic Rest Medical and see about getting a cushion for my manual wheelchair which would treat my butt better then what I have now. So I figured I would offer asking Anakah out for breakfast as a time killer until Magic Rest Opened, and Anakah bit and we went to our local Village Inn. Anakah had wanted togo to a Pancake house but I knew a pancake house would be crowded and over priced. But Village Inn (VI)was just cross the street up on the main drag.

Village Inn is a chain restaurant and, I suppose as corporate as, the Pancake house where Anakah wanted to go, but it seemed to meet my needs and I was driving so we went to VI. But the VI was OK, not as pathetic as Denny’s gen pop or truck drivers, bachelor and weekend Saturday dads, the only similarity I noticed was the amount of seniors. We finally got seated after the “seating person” tried seat us with the people standing behind us—figuring an old guy in a wheelchair and his granddaughter could not be out by themselves. I got breakfast of huevos rancheros and Ani got pasta, it’s what she wanted and they serve pasta any time. We did some people watching ate, our meal and just hung out and enjoyed each others company.

Anakah is on the verge of pre-adolescence she has a couple of years to go until before she actually enters real teenage-hood. I have recently realized this and have been doing ore and more with the girl. Soon I will be too old for Saturday morning breakfasts—I will not even see this little person who is becoming more and more social—maybe as traditional holiday family functions. – but I feel even these family celebrations she will be on the run, or the go, that is life and the nature of things. Know your place old man. Be thankful for these moment you have they may be all you get

New Projects

I had lunch today with my buddy Stan C. Stan is a young para, who just happens, I found out over lunch, to be my son’s age, 33. I really got to know Stan during the 2002 two Olympics when they were held here in Salt Lake City. Stan and I were both working out of Olympic headquarters—I was doing information and referral and I don’t know what the heck Stan was doing but he was usually mulling round the floor when ever I was up on phones. Stan now is working as video-ographer and doe some teaching at the University level here in Salt Lake. I have been trying to get hold of Stan for a couple of months now and finally we got a meal scheduled over at the Rio Grande Restaurant. I wanted to talk with Stan about video and his ideas since he actually gets paid to do this kind of stuff.

We had a great meal at the Rio Grand the famous Mexican restaurant with life size paper Mache of the women in a taco which hovers above the bar and I really think we are going to come way with a doe able, project. Here is a guy whom actually knows how to film and edit and best of all contacts in the field. I have a record of broadcasts, I can find the people, set up the broadcast and bring the broadcast off. So what we briefly spoke about of doing something like 13 or so episodes of people with disabilities along the Wasatch Front. We have decided that we will keep away from the ‘super crips’ and focus regular everyday crips and most likely ‘spinal cord’ folks who were once able bodied and hen through trauma or disease process has become disabled. We figured the other disabilities have already been pretty well covered: blind, CPs, autistics but people with physical disabilities have sort of fallen between the cracks.

So this could be a fun new project. I think getting funding for this project might be do able and if that could happen could we actually a company doing this kind of work. I really think there is a need for this kind of thing and who know it might be fun and might be the new invention of myself.

Buttermilk Please

It is getting more and more difficult living with myself! I am finding I am having difficulty being round certain classes of people which greatly offends me and I don’t know quite what to do about it and this feeling is not that I think I am any better then these folk it’s just am having problems just being round them.

This weekend was Anakah’s dance recital and I sort of went off on class the class thing there but the recital was nothing compared to going out to eat afterwards. The recital was at 10:00 and the kids had not got any breakfast nor had Dianne and I ate around 8:00 a.m.. So after the recital we decided to celebrate by dropping by the local Denny’s for breakfast or any of their other anytime meals.

Perhaps it is because when Dianne and I usually go to Denny’s it’s for breakfast at a breakfast time, anytime before 10:00 a.m. People are , for the most part cheerful, cordial and even if waiting is encountered the waiting is OK. And again, maybe it’s just me but after time the people I run into at my local Denny’s are folks who for one reason or another could not rise early to have breakfast when the good folk have breakfast. Thee folk look gruffer and just a little bit frightening. There is always a line by then sometimes a long line with kids screaming and crawling round my wheelchair touching this and asking that and making me just want to scream. The Denny’s we go to has very little waiting area which means I am always in somebody’s way usually a waitress. This Denny’s does not have an accessible bathroom which is complete blog posting all by itself. I bet we frequent this Denny at least once a month but each time I seem to cause chaos among the staff as what to o with the guy I the power wheelchair. Well, this table do, or would that table be better how bout a booth? Just sit me.!! Even after all of that we end up pushing two smaller tables together and every time this solution seem to work just fine. Then I always ask for buttermilk—just to drive them crazy. No one knows, if the waitress get this terrified look on her face and runs back to the kitchen to check only to return to report “no, we don’t have butter milk.” My game is that one time management will realize that maybe we should keep a quart of buttermilk round for that old guy in the power chair. I figure if I ask long enough one day they will smile and bring out a class of the white sludge.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Like I said if I can be there before the dreaded 10:00 hour it’s not so bad just me/we and the other working guys and Seniors and truth be-told if I show up there later it’s because my early Alzheimer’s has conveniently erased and or how bad the last experience was and the promise of yet another delightful calorie and cholesterol infested offering code named “grand slam “ something or other., overides my common sense as I scoot up to the table as far as I can and cheerfull ask the waitress…” I’ll start off witha buttermilk please.”

Recital Saturday

Anakah had her ballet recital this morning at 10:00 a.m. This is Ani’s first venture in to ‘dance’, today was her second recital and there was improvement. Sad but this was this little dance company’s last recital. Seems the teacher is moving out of the city. And that is that.

The teacher of this little company is a stay at home mom with a degree in fine arts and with an emphasis in ballet and dance. The teacher is also Anakah’s almost next door neighbor. The teacher has a huge recreation room which turned into a dance studio once a week, a few neighbors, a couple of girls from the ward and her own three daughters and poof you have a troop of dancing princesses.

The recital is weird not “bad weird” but sort of strange weird. The recital was in a church in the gym. Ten o clock on a Saturday morning the families are a mixed bunch. Grandma and grandpas, lots of step dads and weekend dads and boyfriends all mixing with video camera’s and digitals. There’s babies crying, screaming and sisters too young to dance wishing the could dance and wondering onto the stage every once in a while. I was surprised to see the amount of blue jeans and sweat shirts and tennis shoes. Like the recital was the first or second item of business on today’s schedule of things to do. I was worried that my white slacks would be too casual when I saw the other folk there I realized I had come over dressed.

There were two groups of dancers: intermediate class and senior class, intermediate was basically ‘babies in tights’ sort of cavorting to the music blaring from the troops boom box. The ‘senior’ dancers had survived at least one year with the grand dame who might by 30. This group actually had an idea of what dancing in unison was all about. Of course Anakah was one of the three seniors dancers. And as proud grand parents we felt she was right on the mark, she danced to the music and finished the dance with the music. She did not wander; she kept her eyes fixed to her teacher and did no fall of the stage once. She did not look bored once, like some of the other ‘daughter dancers’ did. Anakah actually wanted to be there in fact she was awake at 3:30 a.m. she could not sleep, she was excited for her big day. Get this she even went to s sleep over last night but demanded her father come and get her at 10:30 pm so she would no be late for her recital.

So the neighborhood dame is moving on and the troop is no more. Now, if Anakah is going to go to the next stage of her dance career, chances are, she is going to have to go to a “real” dance class where real money is exchanges and real dance is expected and real premadonas are born. But is now on the back burner now, it summer and Anakah is getting ready for gymnastics .

Fair?

It’s not fair! I work all week and the days are warm, clear and begging that I do anything but be in the office and work. Now as I start my three day weekend, I wake to an overcast and windy day struggling to get into the seventies. What is worse the forecast show the weekend to be more of the same with days warming and clearing beginning Monday. But there maybe some clearing this afternoon long enough to cruise up to the bank. Maybe I’ll write more later.

Happy Birth Day, Mark

Yesterday was my son’s birthday—he turned 33 years old and he spent yesterday, his birthday, which is also his day off, cleaning house, watching his daughter and mowing my lawn—which mark has gotten in to the habit of mowing each Wednesday. Dianne was shocked that no celebration of any kind had been planned—at least that we hear of. When Dianne heard this she threw the left over sloppy joe, we had out about to micro-wave for dinner, back into the fridge and we went out to dinner at our favorite artery clogging Mexican restaurant.

Mark did not seem to mind that nothing was being done to honor his B-DAY and granted he received a bunch of well wishes on his Face Book account but FB is not the same as have the warmth of your family surrounding as you blow the candles out on your very own birth day cake. I have to take my lumps because I am part of the crowd who did nothing. I was going to offer to do something when I was sure that Mark had the time—Mark works a schedule which make it difficult for people to get together on. Still, it sounds like I am making excuses, which I suppose I am. I left messages on his cell—birthday messages, and I wrote on his FB wall, birthday messages and later I did manage to tell Mark over the phone “happy birthday” and I was welling to let it go at that. Dianne would not have any of this Birthday apathy BS—not one bit. She had me call mark again and find out weather he had had dinner or not. When I got hold of the 33 year old, he and Jasmine were on heir way to fin some dinner meaning a drive-thru of one kind or another. We basically demanded that we let us take them to dinner. I wore him down( I knew how) and met Mark and Jasmine over at Restaurant Morelia.

We had a great meal ( this was the second meal for us at Restaurant Morelia in the same week—we have sworn off the place now till at least December) some good conversation and a good time being together. But it was a bi forced. Mark, I could tell wanted to get back to our yard, Jasmine like any five year old wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment. I am still intending on getting a small gift for my son just acknowledge our relationship and to thank him or all the work and support he has been to us in the past couple of years. Mark says he does not need anything but still I know how I would feel if my birthday had been completely overlooked by those closest to me.

Mark and Jasmine stopped by the house following dinner and Mark mowed the front and back yard and Jasmine and I made outdoor art with sidewalk chalk.

Extra Extra

Already I am off to a lame start of the month by not posting yesterday, grrrr. There is a movie being shot across the street from my office; brings back memories of when I was an extra in a movie produced my Selma Hayek called the Maldonado Miracle shot way out in Eureka, Utah. About 70 miles South and West of Murray. I was to be on set for a number of days but quite after one day, of heat, poor conditions, water, food and restroom facilities and almost heating a deer on my way home following a very long day. $70.00 and a fairly good story was all I got . I would do it again if the movie being shot was across the street.

Camp

I am just amazed! I have been searching all morning for images of a Camp I used to be sentenced to as a kid and I can find no images anywhere on the INTERNET! I have looked everywhere I can think of but no luck. I have a couple of resources I want to use and we’ll see what happens.

Years ago a year or so after my accident, my parents were contacted by the Idaho Easter Seal society, who wanted to know if I would be interested in attending a camp for kids with disabilities located on Lake Coeur d’ Alene, The camp would be for two weeks and I would be flown to Worley Idaho where we would be driven the rest of the way to the campsite. The camp was staffed by physical and occupational therapy students from Washington State University and pre-OT and PT student from University of Idaho. Though it was never said an I only surmised decades later that the real reason for the camp was not all for the joy of the kids, which I am sure THAT was a major reason for the camp but also for a form of respite for the families of these kids with disabilities. What ever the reason I was heading out.

Remember , I inherited my disability, from a motor cycle accident when I was fifteen. I had gone through rehab and returned to school and I really did feel like Stranger in a Strange Land. I was already pretty cynical about life and even though I was excited about the prospects of this thing called camp I had to maintain my “tough” attitude by more then once insinuating I was fort everyone else’s benefit but mine. Two years post injury I had really only one other friend in a wheelchair that I had any real contact and he was more cynical then I. Eugene Diffendaffer was a work of art, a guy who I could only tolerate in small amounts but that is a story for another blog. This trip would expose me to a host of others in wheelchair, canes and other types of disabilities I had no experience with what so ever.

Camp? What the hell was camp anyway? I had never experienced any kind of camp. We were not “camp’ people. I had never experienced such a thing, I had heard of camps where rich kids were sent but this was not in MY universe. So, my first plane ride, ever was a board a mid-sized prop airliner. TV cameras and families at Boise International Air terminal rolled and more then one camera flashed as Easter Seal staffs separated us from our families and hustled us off to a corner of the terminal checked, some interviewed and get ready for the flight. This was more gimps in one place then I had ever seen—e4ven in rehab. There were lots of kids with Cerebral Palsy, blindies, and spinal bifidas and other disabilities way out my ability to categorize. If I remember right they just lifted us out of our chairs and carried us to our seats, strapped us in and we were gone.
(This is kinda fun…I will write more later on Camp Easter Seal especially when I get some images to go with the storey line). So this was a relatively big operation and cannot find any images of the event or place. I m going to open a Face Book group on the camp…soon. Stay tuned you’ll see and it will be glorious.

Books are Good Medicine

I stayed home yesterday due to having a about of what I think was food poisoning. The day before, Monday, I had prepare a breakfast of scrambled eggs, onions and mushrooms—a great holiday meal.

Dianne had also been working in the pantry where we keep our meager collection of food storage and to or dismay had found many of the cans had bulge and in some cases exploded and drained. Over the past ten or so years we had heard muffled explosions in the house but had never pinpointed their origins and had never suspected the eruptions had come from our food storage. So Dianne had removed the remain cans, and cleaned the messes made over the years and now we were using the oldest cans we could find first. Looking back I don’t know how rock solid an idea this was. However, there was this small can of salsa which surfaced and needed to be used because if there ever had been an expiration date on the can that date was long past.

The mushroom, scrambled looked great as we sat down to eat on Sunday morning and opened the salsa and generously slathered the eggs with the salsa—Dianne did not and breakfast was great; later that day, however nature summer me to the bathroom where I remain for the rest of the night until I went to bed, exhausted. That was how I ended my holiday weekend. The night was worrisome and no accident occurred but little sleep had either so I elected to stay home. I have the ‘sick leave’, Tuesday there was nothing I knew was happening and the boss was scheduled to out of town until Wednesday so why not?

Yup, yesterday, I stayed home. The storms of the day before had blow away and not yet hot the day was pleasantly dry and warm. By noon I felt my stomach settling down to the point where I could trust being out in public away from my accessible toilet. I had my power chair charged all weekend long and had not gone anywhere. I was also without a book to read and I had wanted to get to B&N all weekend long and hadn’t so I decided to head-out. Dianne was busy in the bedroom with the cleanout project.

Purchasing a book usually takes m at least three hours buy I impressed myself by laving the house purchasing TWO books and getting back in less then three hours. I looked at the book bargain tables and saw a couple of “coffee-table” books I would like and I might get someday. I asked some questions but in the end I got a “Stephen King and a William Gibson” . I caught the bus up to B&N but instead of waiting for the next bus I decided to power on home which I did and then spent next number of hours sitting in the sun, reading and letting my stomach settle and get my mind ready for work today.

Another Holiday

The morning was cold, gray and rainy when I got up. I made coffee then breakfast, or part of the breakfast and settled in for a nice quiet pre-Memorial Day Sunday. About 3:30 of 4:00 the clouds parted and the sun began warming things and I decided to go head with my cook out. It was a small cook out just Dianne and myself; everyone else is busy or out of town and all of that I good. I did baby back ribs, dogs, one chuck steak and some fish. We also had corn on the cob.

Around 5:30 the clouds started to regroup, the temperature dropped and winds picked up. Everything was done except the ribs which we brought in, wrapped up and stuck in the oven for the rest of the evening while we ate and watched re3corded movies till bed time. I still need to get to a bookstore but have picked up an old Stephen King I have laying round and that works.

FBB

I am trying, I am really ` trying` but I failing to update my blog daily as I did for almost two years. I even have things to say and I intend to do the updates but I end up letting the blog go. I am also finding that if I do not blog early in the day I tend to feel too tired to blog later in the day when I am more worn. I have been thinking about this and I have notice3d a disturbing pattern with some of my favorite bloggers and that pattern is : they are not blogging as much either!!

I think there is an insidious virus sweeping the nation/planet, one which will put the Swine flue epidemic to shame or at least place the SW in it place of marginal impact at best. I call this virus the FBB (Face Book Bug). Dooce, The Underwear Drawer, Lynnie’s Take to mention a few I regularly follow all show signs of lapses and in some cases long lapses. I mean, these guys have risen to the level of professionals, they have authored books, been on national tv and have stared on many local rock and roll morning shows. Face Book is the culprit plane and simple. I feeling the virus acting on me constantly, I get up un the morning and flip on my laptop and check for updates and notification—if I have any I check them out and in many cases respond right there and then. I write and send and feel I have met my days obligation or writing on the “bigger” screen. I cannot really say about the national and international bloggers I follow, but I do know a couple of other bloggers very personally. I see them at work and see them ignoring their talent and responsibility to update their blogs instead they use their talents on short, violent blasts of thought, usually aimed at one person or personal pain and still not feeling like they have treated their angst only increased their pain. Too bad. They have so much to write. I miss them.

Hey, don’t get me wrong I cannot throw any stones. It’s the twenty-third and I have only 11 posts so far for this month when I should have twenty-two. I am sliding, I feel myself sliding into blog mediocrity but better blog mediocrity then to blog apathy. I Face Book, I admit it. In fact I went there just now and when I got to my page I had found a couple of notifications and I checked those notifications out and then I wrote responses and in an instant I had been there 15 minutes! But, I am going to fight this virus, there is probably not cure, after all it’s a social network, and I wonder if that is the same as a social disease. So, I will write daily, if not my committed 500 words, then anything, which will keep me writing, I will write early. But I doubt I’ll write before I FB—for I have the FBB!

Alone Again Naturally

The runaway bus called “Recession” finally came barreling down my street and hitting pedestrians I know including me. Yesterday the director called my partner into the office by clearing her voice (the director’s) and saying, “I have been dreading this and had hoped…” and then the door closed but I knew what was going down. ‘ Chapman, my faithful partner was getting mowed by the Recession bus, she was being down sized, laid off, RIFed , shown the door, or let go. No matter what you called it she is “gone baby gone” after June 30th, the end of our funding year. The monster recession which has, up to now been just a boggy man on the 5:00 news, has suddenly become very real as the State continues to cut millions of dollars out of crucial programs serving folks with disabilities and people who are low income. I lost one of my major funders, a forth of my budget was cut this year! I heard this, I saw the paperwork and numbers on how these cuts would affect my program but it did not sink in due to the fact the money I am operating on comes from yearly grants and I am still working on last year’s money and I will not feel the lacerating cuts until July 1. Guess what that is now less then 40 days away! The boss had top tell Chapman that “it’s been nice but you’re done here after the end of June.”

Then it was my turn, the bus stopped at the ends of the block slowly turned and then got me in it’s headlights, as I smiled at Chapman who was exited the bosses office , and headed into the office for my employment reality check. The bus was gaining speed as the boss closed the door and we small talked and she came to the point. Chapman was gone, a short timer and that I was going to take a hit too. I was caught in the metaphorical headlights but “jumped” at the last moment and was just nicked by the fender of the of the oncoming, out of control financial monster. I may be reduced just a few hours a week, my benefits well reman in place and I will continue having somewhere to come every morning of the work week.

The boss and the bookkeeper continue tumbling numbers and playing with the financial puzzle trying to come up with a better scenario. Hopefully keeping the pay check as viable as possible. Chapman has already started interviewing for other positions. She did a phone interview today one I think she will probably get and in the long run come out a lot better then if she had stayed here. I am going to miss Chapman and her incredibly, provocative and interesting life and her daily update of the dastardly deed of her late great husband and her quest for the perfect mate. And as the song says, I am again, “along again naturally

Heat!!!!

Heat! I love the heat. It’s over 90 degrees out there in Salt Lake City right now, probably even hotter on the tarmac, but its wonderful. I am wearing my blue short sleeved shirt for the first time today. Dianne laid the shirt out for me—and I do have to admit, I was a bit chilled when I headed out the front door this morning at 5:45 but I was OK.

As I said , I had a meeting across town this morning at the Buffmire building and I took the bus over. I should have thought this out but there were all kinds of colorful folks on the bus hading West today. There was a whole gaggle of prison/jail release women occupying the buses back seat. They sounded like a flock of magpies in locust trees and it seemed that with every stop we made heading West another X-offender boarded my bus. They were having a good old time in the back seat. The driver seemed a bit intimidated and I cannot say I blamed him. After all a vocation of bus driving is not worth getting shanked for the way to Redwood Road for telling the passengers in the back to settle down.
The magpie flock got off at Utah Plasma Services(UPS) which seemed to be a joke among these perky sisters as they were getting they’re buy in for the week”.
Following their departure the bus was tombstone silent for the next couple blocks when I broke the reverie by announcing my stop. Of course the driver had forgotten he ha ‘tied’ me down so he had to go through the whole motion of unbuckling himself, coming back to me and then undoing me which he had me tied down with two straps—the driver taking me home used four straps and that was a real core getting me free.

I noticed as I was being lowered to the street level that the chorus of freed magpies had been replaced by as many Hispanic magpies all rattling away about this and that. It was great to be riding the buses again to make actual work related meetings and enjoying the temperature and the ride. Old folks, minorities of all sorts, and teenagers flocked on and off the bus at all stops. The driver talking into a microphone which may or man not work announcing stops and trying to be part of a conversation he had not been invited to of two passengers sitting right behind him.

A glorious day, three or four hours away from the office, use of public transit, being part of giving away more then $400,000 and a free lunch and best part all on the clock.

The forecast shows the weather to be clear and warm to hot all week, even into the weekend, and this weekend is a holiday weekend not that I have anything specific planned except just sitting on my tree covered ramp and reading.

Lazy S

It’s finally hot and I am in my element: T-shirt and shorts and usually bare feet but not to day for some reason. I put shoe on this morning when I was dressing and have not got round to taking them off. Not Much happening today, a lazy Sunday, washed some dishes and have spent most the time Face booking and reading. I am just about finished with Diamond age and want to finish it and get on with my reading life. I have dallied way too long on this one.

Yesterday we went to a ball game of one of our neighbors kids—the event lasted half of the day. I had my book and Dianne had Ani and we just hung out at the park. Earlier Anakah and I went to Beans and Brews. We had a good time.

Love Hate!

I hate my van! But I love my van too. I know that sounds weird and seems a contradiction and it IS weird but its true I have a love hate relationship with my vehicle. I hate to depend on the piece of crap because its not dependable. The vehicle plays games on us and if I had any kind or better alternative I would dump the beast in an instant.
This morning I had an appointment with the wheelchair shop to have some tweaking done on my new, getting old fast, Quantum. I was going to drive in by myself but I was afraid that transferring into the drivers seat of the van from my chair then transferring back when I got to the shop would result in my de-pantsing; loosing my pants on my transferring back into my chair from the drivers seat see to happen to me now more and more as my transfers become worse and worse. So, I woke Dianne up to drive me into Magic Rest.

I had stayed up too late last night watching the season finale of Gray’s A. So I was running late this morning. I had an eleven o clock appointment an I was just finishing my pants on at 10:30 and Dianne was just getting going to but had gone out to the van and started the vehicle; at a quarter 11:00 she told me to go and get into the van so we would be ready to go as soon as she finished which would be minutes. I knew something was wrong, desperately wrong when I got onto the wheelchair lift and pushed the toggle and the motor immediately died. I road the lift up to the van anyway figuring I would be able to get down if the van would not start—the lift being a ‘gravity’ down lift and sure enough when Dianne did come out to the van and try to start the engine there was no juice. I HATE THIS VAN THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS. I was bout ready to call it a day right then and there but there was a giant Qwest truck running round the neighborhood for one reason or another and Di flagged the driver down and with in five mi nutes the guy was negotiating the truck into position to give us a jump.

The driver, lets call him Juan, a Hispanic gentleman with some English speaking challenges and kept looking at us like “what are these gringos up do”. He wore wrap round sun glasses, a salt and pepper beard and a cool construction helmet. He was slow moving but definite, methodically deliberate. He was not going to be rushed and if we expected his help it would be on his grounds. Juan did a marvelous job and with in minutes we were jumped and on the road. I would never have flagged down a truck like Dianne I am still amazed that we pulled this off. Anyway we got to the appointment and Brent treated us great and got things tweaked on the chair and back on the road. Dianne had stayed in the van with the engine running so as not to have to ask for a second jump.

The van acted great for the rest of our trip, we stopped for lunch at our favorite restaurant and later stopped at the van conversion shop where we had the lift put into the van. We have checked everything else we had to rule out the lift and it’s electrical circuitry as well. The boys there spent a good hour checking things out and found nothing, as I knew they would, I was thrilled we got home. I loved my van for bringing us home, as I do each time the vehicle gets us back home safe…it just those time it just decides to sit there and do nothing but mock me and all those time I just hate it and I would roll away from it in a second if I could…

Cutomer Service

I really am not trying to be all gushy and all but I am really getting impressed with my durable medical sales-guy, Brent. I have been getting worried as I use my power wheelchair more and more and I have had to do quiet a bit of “tweaking” to the chair to make it just right for my needs.

The other night Brent was over at my house, actually at my house, after hours making sure that I got what I needed. When my chair arrived the cushion which came with my chair was actually too small for seat of the chair. I chose to use the cushion however, I needed to use the smaller cushion in order to continue going to work and try to get on top of the butt wounds. And sure enough cushion came in and he brought it round and changed it out at my house! Brent then began busying himself with other facets \of the chair. He ruminated at me sitting on the new cushion indicated that he still was not happy with the weight distribution on the mega cushion and wanted to see if there was something else he might try.

Brent next adjusted my footplate. The footplate on this new chair is way small and my feet have had major difficulty staying un the foot plate. However, when Brent was over he adjusted the plate so the plate tilted up a little and sure enough I think the tilted footplate has prevented my feet from slipping off, so I am not having to stop every couple of hundred feet during my journeys to replace my feet on the foot plate.

I was also not pleased with the back to my new chair when the chair first arrived. I thought I would have difficulty transferring from my manual chair to the power chair in the morning after I have completed dressing but I accommodated and I relearned my transfer technique and now have little problem. But I did ask Brent to order a smaller back and he did but since I have can transfer no, and I sort of like the feel of this broader back when I articulate my chair back I have not pressed the issue. But nor Brent wants to change out back this Friday morning, feeling the change out will have a positive effect. I am welling to go this route. I have come to believe Brent really does know what he is talking about.

So I guess what I am saying is I am just amazed at the amount of good service I have gotten with this new chair. Other chairs I have purchased, I really have felt I was on my own the minute I rolled out of the dealership. Oh they have honored their warranties well enough but nothing I have been super impressed over. I have been in sales and I felt I have also given good service but I have never given the kind of customer service I have gotten from Brent. But maybe Brent is cultivating customer loyalty—cause I know where and with whom I am going to order my next chair from…my buddy Brent.

Google!

You know what is weird for me is to appreciate the vastness of the INTERNET, how deep the information well goes and how universal sea of information is as that sea laps just about on everyone’s reach one way or the other. For example today I go off on a tangent researching my grandfathers name. I wondered what would happen if I googled his name with a church I know that grandfather was affiliate with at one point in time. I did not find references I wanted associated with the 3^rd Ward of Boise Stake but soon I was looking at other items to do with Boise stake and names I had long forgotten. I was intrigued at how much great information is out on the NET just waiting to be found and used one way or the other. I was fascinated to see how the old third ward was carved from the Second, and to know the actual conference and Representative who was brought in from Salt Lake. I was disappointed that I did not find any mention of Grandfather Harker during my hasty search but I did find references to Grandfather during his time in Cardston, Alberta, Grandfather’s parents who were huge sheep people in Canada and to some degree in Utah. That is until a severe winter storm killed jus about all of their flocks. Then I was sidetracked to a Boise architect, Ronald Thurber, an old religious instructor of mine. One of the only instructors I had any respect for. Thurber was different just about anyone I knew. I swear I thought for the longest time on was from San Francisco—Ron was cool and laid back and forward thinking for an instructor in the Boise Seminary system of the early 70’s. I guess Ron is still alive try as I may I could not find an obit for the guy so maybe I’ll call him relive some old times.

I googled cousins and others I could bring to the front of my brain. we are all connected now , more so then ever before. Some become frightened at the amount of information out “there”I don’t…I kind a of like it. My Grandfather is alive and well, not bad for being dead for over thirty years.

Done!!

I have spent all day reading grants but I just finished and now I feel the burden lifted. The grants this year were ok but nothing spectacular. A number of grants were the same as last year with just new cover pages and time lines:no thinking or creativity at all. To these I said "No". One guys asks for $100,000. each year. I have denied him the last couple rounds but he always gets the money. I will reward new and interesting ideas, repeaters I just say "no!". may be someday it will make a difference.

Brrrr

I should be doing homework i.e. the IOTI grants and writing the materials for the USOR project but I seem to be doing everything I can not be doing the things I should. Today, I just seem to be freezing. The day looking nice but it cold and a chilly wind is blowing--maybe tomorrow. More avoidance behavior has rendered another film clip of the scene in yesterdays post but this one in the morning darkness.

A Different Road Taken

My house lies almost smack dab in the middle of two train stations—I am about six blocks to each station. About three weeks ago the transit company started making a spur to the West side Traxx lines a multi-year expansion project which I think is just great; a line allowing folks on the “West side” of the valley the blessing of public transit. The only draw back is the spur is taking off at my train station. That point where I board and get off the train each day. Actually, I can still get off the train and board the train from that station, if I wish, I just cannot get there along my old path of travel. Sidewalks are ripped up as are the streets four about three blocks of my trip making the path totally un-useable.

So about three weeks ago, in stead of turning South to my usual train stop, I started turning North, which takes me past the back of my house up and over this huge over pass which actually crosses the Interstate. I have always really wanted to take this route by was kind of chicken. In my old power chair, the chair was so that I did think I had the patience the motor. Then there was the huge overpass. I just did not give my little chair credit. And since getting my new chair I have never considered the challenge of motoring to this train station until the started construction on the spur. Turning North instead of South was hard for me that first day of going to the new station but I did it and I was pleasantly surprised to find there is much less traffic at this time of day then the other direction. This lack of traffic allows me the opportunity to spend almost my entire trip in the street, on the pavement free of the nasty cracks and bumps which can send my entire body, especially my right leg into spasms—but that is fodder for another blog.

When I take off in the morning the day is new and so is the charge in my batteries. I am able to tear down the street in the back of my house at 8. MPH—which doe not sound too fast but is fast enough for me. When I get to the over-pass the gravity, I suppose, cuts my forward motion down to 7.5 MPH but I was surprised at how snappy the chair carried me over the railroad tracks. One I am on the down side of the over-pass I have to be a bit more careful because my speed now generate to up to 8.5 if I press forward full bore . When I finally reach the bottom of the overpass I come out on the parking area of the train station. Comparatively speaking, there are few cars in the parking lot this time of day and I am greeted by this huge, gentle slope which rides me right down to the train ramps.

What is really weird, I have always believed this route was the longer of the two, especially with the over pass but now I do not know. It seems I get to the North station quicker the when I would travel to the North station. The overpass bothers me, I don’t know why but I have sort of have a love hate thing with coming down the other side. I am sure the stress is just tearing the guts out of my motors but I have not really seen any diminished performance in my vehicle yet. The only irritation I really do have is that the new chair seems hard on my body. I have to get some things adjusted on the chair and I have an appointment on Saturday at the wheelchair shop and then, maybe this trip will be a bit more pleasant but in any case this road taken has made all the difference.

Excuses

I literally spent all weekend working on the proposal, minus a couple of hours tending to the wife and dog. Lilly was over all weekend and she survived and we survived but I did no get a single moment to blog. I really do feel bad. maybe after this week I cn get back to some normalcy in my blogging.

May Day

I love this schedule, being off each Friday making a perpetual long weekend. It’s a nice morning this morning fast becoming noon for a May 1st. I wish I could enjoy the day and weekend more if I did not have home work. I have the proposal to do or try to do and I also have grants I need to read and grade. Luckily, the weather , this weekend, will not be spectacular but the day looks nice now. Plus we have dog head Lilly coming over to spend a day or two while her parents are the Grand Canyon. Lilly should be gone by Sunday night.

We are also aggressively battling a wound outbreak on my butt. I will need to be laying more, taking off the weight, off the wounds. I did speak with my wound professional yesterday and he said, that I could stay up if I used my power chair and used the ‘tilt’ function a lot. I hate these wound.

Thanks Mark A., we did not get the lawn mower as we had talked bout yesterday but Mark A. came over and got the old mower running and did the compete lawn , front and back; a perfect job. Thanks, Dianne and I are hoping to get out to Home depot today or sometimes this weekend and get the mower Home Depot has on sale. Purchasing a lawnmower may just be the big spot in my weekend.

Finding Michael

I just got off the line with Mike from Ogden. Mike’s a guy with a disability, whose disability has progressed to the point that now he needs a power wheelchair for getting round. Mike is currently on Medicaid which should be the program designated to get such equipment but because Mike received a manual wheelchair about a year and a half ago he thinks he is ineligible to receive another piece of equipment for another three and half years. Mike was giving my agency’s name and number because someone has heard that somehow my program has access to used power wheelchairs. This thought is partly true. We run a website which has a webpage where we allow people who have used equipment and wish to sell, trade or donate that equipment, these folks are welcome to list that equipment on our webpage called the “Salesbank”. Many folk “out there” operate under the notion that our program actually has equipment to give away. I quash that thought quick as possible, and explain what my program offers and other programs which might assist him either obtain a ‘loaner’ device or a way of procuring a whole new piece of assistive technology.

I referred Mike back to his Medicaid officer, telling Mike to let his officer know that his disability has significantly progressed in the year and a half since he got is manual chair that now he needs a power wheelchair or his mobility. This can be pretty intimating for lad like Mike—I know I have had to deal with my share of governmental bureaucrats in my life with a disability so I also referred the guy to his local Independent Living Center, who one, might have power wheelchair which Mike might use until he resolves his issues with Medicaid and two, has one of the IL staff act as an advocate for Mike to make sure the consumer does not get the “consumer around” . Now, I don’t know if his IL will come up with such a beast, but I feel they should. Most IL’s have a “loan closet” of sorts. A room stuffed with assistive technology usually donated by a family of a person with a disability after they croaked. Most of this equipment is pretty darn good some of the equipment is brand new. The IL usually has enough stuff to ‘loan’ the equipment out indefinitely if need be.

I was on the phone with Mike for at least thirty minutes. I gave out some great information which I think was right on the caller’s needs. I ended the call with Mike committing to carry through and make contact with the referrals I gave him. I disconnected the call and returned to my “In” basket to try to get something done on the grants project looming over my head when my phone rang and I connected the call to my headset and I immediately recognized Mike’s voice. It was deje vu. Mike started the call exactly as he had done before…I broke into his litany informed Mike that we had just finished a conversion and he had calls he had to make, it was like a scene from Finding Nemo. I quickly reoriented Mike to the data on his tablet of paper, or what ever he was using, he located the numbers and quickly disconnected the call. It’s been 45 minutes and Mike has not called back maybe I connected maybe I didn’t but I am sure I’ll do it all over again tomorrow one way or the other.

Delima

I have been trying to figure out how to do this post for a couple of days now. Remember, last week, when I posted about our office being broke into and my program’s computer being ripped off and the other office’s computer projector
being taken? Well, since the incident the office has seemed to be in a low boil.

Because we are a State office, anytime like the break in, or the threatening phone call has to be reported to the “mother ship” and the “mother” gets all involved in the disguise of Risk Management who begins to tell us what we are going to do or at least gives us strong input of choices we might choose. Edicts started flying: “No one stays in the office by alone” which means I leave then office at 5:30 p.m. instead of 6:00 p.m. and the doors to our office are to be locked: All this because we have the Consulate of Mexico in the offices above our offices. Oh and the coupe de grace, we are strongly considering’ moving to another building, a State building somewhere out in Egypt, in an area of the City I don’t think is anymore safe then the area we are currently in.

The problem I am having is I like this office space, in this building in this part of town with or with out the Mexicans and if it were not the Mexicans it would be the homeless drifters and if not the homeless drifters it would be the local supporters of the local professional basketball team: The Chokers. The problem is that in all likelihood we will be moving into a heartless, soulless drab government building into a cubical! A cubical with State droids walking all round like a scene from the Matrix.

The upside of the solution is the earliest we could move into the property suggested by Risk management would be a little over a over, as I understand. A building is being vacated by a sister agency, who is going to a brand new building. I guess the old building needs to be cleaned up and what ever. A year is a long time, actually, a lot of things can happen in a year, a lot of things.: A lot of things to the building, the neighborhood, the job or even me. Maybe this is a wake up call for me to appreciate how good I have things right now. To enjoy my ‘window on the west’, excellent public transit accommodations and great facility with international flavor and intrigue just upstairs.

You know, I labored under the idea the boss liked these things too, the items in this building that liked but I feel she is going to cave but more to the idea that we are paying for way to much space here then we need and the gave that the folks from Risk Management are offering her a deal a price at significant dollars per square feet less then we are now paying. Money, now there is a concept I can understand but I still don’t have to like ‘move’ decision. And again, a year is a very long time and new pandemic may make the who issue a moot point.

Lazy ?

It's Sunday Morning and I still have not blogged since Wednesday!! Either I am too busy, tired or not round the system , or out of the mood. Well, this entry is something and I want to get back today at some time and crank out 500 words about the result of all the legal an illegal stuff which has been happening at the office but now I think I'm going to the hospital...for some breakfast.

Mid-Week

Its like 75 degrees right now outside my window a I wait for the clock to hit five thirty when I will fling myself out the doors from my office like a scene of Bart Simpson being let out of school. I had the meeting with one o my four funders today and it does not sound good but definitely there was a silver lining to the possible funding cut. If we were to find that “silver lining” it would men a lot more work for this little office of one and half people but could also mean more fun. We would be using a lot more technology and INTERNET stuff. We would be doing more on line broad casting and interviewing. The funder said this could have great potential. we’ll just see. One of the first things we’ll do is to start a blog about the agency we are talking about and invite people who use the services to blog their own responses to the quality of services they receive. This was sort of a green light to really play at work.

So the week is almost over and the worst of it is done. I have yet a newsletter to help write and get out and a broadcast to host come Thursday morning and then it is the weekend. I am looking forward to a nice quiet weekend

Short moments of time

Short moments of time is all that we ever spend together. I had to be at work this morning to “tumble” numbers. To get year end data together is some readable form that my boss can use to pry more funding from State agencies we serves and others whom we might in hopes that our little agency will not “wink” out of existence, being the latest victim of a failing economy. I should have stayed home to send off my daughter and her little family who are heading back to Salem today now that the family convergence is complete. Any other week of the year, just about, I would not had a problem taking half a day off to see Shelly away.

Actually, as it turns out Shell and Dustin planned to leave as early as possible and so my crashing round the house was for the best since then ended up leaving just minute after I left the house this morning. But as I was speeding down the street in the pre-dawn darkness, I wondered if our parting was to “light” or should I be suffering more at our parting like in the great movies: Fiddler on the Roof, West Side Story or Old yeller? I was thrilled to see the kids especially the newest granddaughter, Riely, who just wowed us. Riely smiled and smiled for everyone—she truly is a people baby and a good baby. At 14 months she is brilliantly energetic and funny. On the verge of speech, Riely cutely signs, dances and loves images of out dog cinnamon which we have hung round the house. But no, there was no lump in the throat or fear I would never see the kids again. I will—maybe not as much as I would like, if they lived in the same city as I but we will. We’ll text, email and cell phone each other and even set our the camcorders to talk and see each other via the INTERNET. We have done that a little in the past but maybe we should get back into the whole virtual visiting. It’s not like having the soft clutching hand hold on to your little finger as she scouts round your power chair but almost as good to her being there.

In a weak moment we suggested that Dianne and I would host a meal for newly weds and family at our house on Sunday following the wedding. We did it we held a spaghetti dinner, with rolls, salad, garlic bread angel hair pasta, pre-made meat balls and sauce I cooked for hours. Strawberry pie, reese’s peanutbutter cake left over from the wedding champagne and vino and representatives of at least three different families. We think the number was 17 in all but we are nut sure. We put in the extra leaves in the table and brought in the long table from the garage—it was crowded but fun they way family functions should be. I was pleased there was little stress and enough food.

So it’s done, the convergence is past, relegated to the collective conscience of those who attended and participated in these events, a pile or receipts somewhere and thousands of digital images which will document these events form time and all eternity.

Today is Charles's wedding, this evening at 6:00. The fam has more or less congregated and so far so good. There is a few underlying currents of stress but nothing Earth shattering. we so far have had one family gathering yesterday evening at a local pizza place. A little chaos but good food and good conversation. Special thanks to mark and Kristy for providing the family with the pizza and the experience.

Shelly and Dustin arrived about middle of the afternoon and we yammered for a couple hours before the group left for The Pie Pizzeria. I like the The Pie but the "pie" as a university hang out and hot spot. "The Pie" has now transitioned to a family spot at a couple of places round the valley or maybe the West as it transitions. Of course to us the guest of honor was Riley, our newest granddaughter. Riley is 14 months now and she is doll. Riley definitely knows how to smile and to work the room She was able to woe us even after hours of traveling in a small SUV I was so engrossed in the tyke that I forgot to take images. Hopefully I'll get images someday and tomorrow . The little family intends to soend the next two nights with us. I wish I could write more but feel the pressure toi start tumbling numbers for my year end report--which is due Tuesday morning.

Blog Neglect and I am Sorry!

Hey, I know I’m sorry I have neglected the blog but I do have a life too and that life I getting pretty crowded right now. Stresses at the office, new and grander then ever before and sounds like those stresses will only get greater as the year progresses. I am still struggling to acclimate to my new power chair, which is coming along but still is challenging. The Tilt function has continuously worked since my visit to the wheelchair shop a couple of weeks ago. I signed taxes yesterday which will be electro-mailed today. I am waiting for my new cushion and today I am supposed to go up to the university for a dr’s appointment about my but. My step-son(long story) is getting married this weekend an the fam is converging. I am playing friendly tug a war with daughter and her family, and where will she sleep( a who’s house) and all the other issues family gathering can cause. Then this week the county started tearing up the bridge and road I use to access my train—morning and night pushing me to explore other training stations with in rolling distance from my home. And this morning I woke to torrential rain and I wavered and woke Dianne and begged her to drive me to the station which she did…maybe snow tomorrow.

Trust Issues

I’m trying to stay upbeat and believing in my new powerchair but this is a challenge. I think I have mentioned the issue once before of the powerchair freezing the tilt mode. I was hoping against hope that this was a fluke, something which just happened. But now the frequency of the problem seems to becoming more and more frequent which is not good.

Thursday at the office, the day of my last broadcast I was tilting and the chair froze. What I have been ding is waiting a few minutes and the chair usually would begin operating again but it did not do begin to operate even after ten minutes. I eventually called the shop but when I jut as I got the tech on the phone mysteriously the chair began operating. I should have just left the chair in the up position but like the idiot I am-- I immediately launched into another tilt and this tilt stuck( ninety minutes before the broadcast). No matter what we did the chair would not function. The tilt function has an override feature which will not allow the chair to move forward or any direction for that matter. For some magical reason, about 45 minutes to broadcast the chair started operating and continued operating perfectly the remainder of the day. When the broadcast was done I booked back to my office and called the shop and scheduled an appointment for the following day. Mathew, the tech I talked with, said the problem was most likely small and should be easy to isolate and fix.

So yesterday, Friday, my day off, the first day of my weekend I am up ready to go so as soon as I think I can get way with it I head to Magic Rest, I take my van because I had a number of things to do. I ran into Josh, the head tech who had be cycle through my tilt function ad luckily the chair seized. Josh tinkered. There are two “sensor strips or pads” and these strip are pretty sensitive. If there is something on the pads the chair stops working, like child’s hands, tails and what ever else might land there. If the cover of the pads become ajar this can cause the problem too. Josh did some adjusting and the seat seemed to work. Josh did leave me this the caveat that if the problem continued then make an appointment and the tech’s would do an in depth search of th chair and it’s sytems to find out what the real problem is. This all seemed to make sense to me and I am easy so I was out and finished my errands and went on home. I decided to tilt back as soon as I got squared away in the house. I went all the way back and sure enough the seat froze. The whole chair froze, of course, and stayed that way for at least a half hour. It was late in the day and I finally for the chair to begin working a little so I would cycle the chair back and forward. Some times the chair would almost come back to the corrected seated position.

Finally, I got the seat to almost to where it should be but the seat was don enough I could drive my chair to where I needed to go and I was able to transfer back to my manual wheelchair . In the safety of my manual wheelchair I messed with the power chair, specifically the power strips and the seat started working correctly. Today I have not had any problems. So hopefully its fixed but I will still take the chair in for an inspection. But the issue of trust is what’s on the line—you gotta trust your chair just like you gotta trust you car or your pharmacist—its all trust.

Peeper Terror

Don't Tread on Us!!

I wish I knew how to make recordings off my telephone. If I did, I would record the message which was on my answering machine this morning when I got to work. And really the message was not that explicit it was the tone of the little jerk who was leaving the message which I found the most intriguing.

Long time readers will remember about a year or so ago I wrote a post about how the Mexican Consulate had moved into the building and how, it seemed, every Mexican national was J-walking across he street infront of my office. Well nothing has changed much since then except the flags above our building have never really been changed or taken care of and are looking pretty ratty now days. I have even noticed this from time to time but have never been motivated enough to do anything about the flags neglect. Ill, apparently this neglect has also been noticed by a few other folks in the community. One Alfred P. Dorkus, to name one (note the name has been changes to protect ME in case Dorkus ever runs into this blog, a long shot I am sure but one can never be too careful especially in Utah. Of course Dorkus lives in a small city in ah County, probably the most conservative county in the Country, and of course the call was time stamped on my answering machine at 2:25 a.m.!! So, I have a mental image of this red neck, sitting in some redneck bar until they kick him out. Somewhere in the evening he has become aware that the consulate and the ratty tatty American flag flying over our building and cannot stop grinding his teeth over this overt national discretion, even though he was a religious draft dodger, dope smoking his way to being a world class dead beat dad, and that he and his posse was going to do some thing about it.

So get this, this fool Dorkus, not only calls my 800 line and leave this veiled message of death and destruction to my office if we don’t fix this problem immediately but he also finds my email and the email of everyone at this office and the email of all the big shots in state government and does the same to them. I mean was Dorkus even the least bit thinking? Did he not think that someone in all these folks would take him the least bit serious and call law enforcement. I did not pay much attention to the phone call but when I played the call to some of my office mates they all did take the call serious and my boss instructed me to call the cops and report the call.

Since the call came in through my 800 number I got to be the complainant, the cops talked to me first and go my take on everything, then the special crimes unit arrived, wondered round took pictures from across the street of the flags in question and then Officer Bob spent a lot of time cruising the asking questions and writing stuff down. I bet he was here over two hours—must have been a slow crime day because we got a lot of attention.

I am tired now, and I started this day tired. Tomorrow I will try to get pics of the new flags TOMORROW SHOULD BE WRMER THEN TODAY!

Weekend?

Why is it every time I think am going to have some time for myself I find myself slam blasted back in to child rearing?! Its not that I am complaining, ok well maybe I am complaining a little, but I am beginning to see pattern develop here.

The coveted never ending three day weekend, by never ending I mean, one week after another that I am currently enjoying as a State employee. So, last week it was Spring break and Anakah was over Wednesday night home on Thursday night and Friday night. Now, don’t get me wrong Ani is great and tons of fun but she can be high maintenance at times: Anakah likes to be watched as she play her video games, my video game, and draw with pastels. Ani has been perched at my foot with her set of pastels dutifully sketching out beautiful pastel pieces of art right along with me. Bunnies, spring flowers, tree and clouds are sketched, perfected, dates and signed and the drug into grandma for validation along with my creation. We sort of have this un spoken agreement that we will both do the exact number of creations—we start and finish about at the same time. Ani’s creations are concrete real things the way they should look, where as mine are much more abstract—a lot of drawing a picture then wiping the whole image off leaving just a breath of a memory of what had originally been.

Maybe if the spring has not had such a hard time catching on in the Inter-mountain region I would have been better able to flee the house and be outside either in my garage or taking my new chair out for a run. Actually this statement is not really true because each day An was at the house we did take off in the fridge winter spring we seem to be suffering through this year. On Friday we motored down to the cousin’s to pick up the van which was have a wheel repaired. We rode the bus and wonder round Murray where Anakah showed me where she has ballet and other old buildings of the city . Of course we stopped at Beans and Brew, KFC. Yesterday we went to Sunshine market, the local hippy high end which has recently opened in our neighborhood. And again, we were out in the snow, rain and cold air in a train ride which would never end. I was trying to find a bus which would drop us off closer to the house but I had forgotten a lot of bus routes stop operating all together on the weekends. So there back and forth train ride punctuated by a tri to the hospital where Ani could use the bathroom and gift shop and restaurant if the nine year old had been able to wear me down. All this time Anakah was running beside me or riding on the back of my new chair. She tried sitting on my lap but she is really too big for lap sitting anymore, the weight of a nine year old and her head now occludes my vision. I think Anakah was exhausted by the time we got home yesterday afternoon. I was and I had sat all the way Anakah had run the entire distance.

So maybe the lesson is accept the fate of constant involvement, Grandma did her time the firs nine years and now its my turn or term, what ever. I need to see my “constant three day weekend” as a chance to be part of my granddaughters life that I might not always have access to.