BLAZE

I am reading an early Stephen King my little sister sent me, Blaze written under the name Richard Bachman. The read is very good, clearly not one of the best but good just the same. Enough I will rite very little so I can get back to my read. Thanks Linda. I am enjoying staying warm on a cold clear Sunday afternoon.

Stamps

I harvested three stamps today one dollar stamp, 90 center and another for 26 cents, off two different envelopes which happened to cross my desk this week. That’s over $2 in postage and that could be helpful in this day of 41 cent stamps. It’s not that I am cheap, but I am cheap, it’s the whole idea that a government so charged with raising the price on stamps every time one turns round lets this treasure slip by unmarked. I wonder how many other folk watch the mails and are ready to pounce when they see a piece of mail come in with out being stamped, then cut the stamps and soak the stamps long enough to remove the stamp from the envelope.

I think I first started postage salvaging behavior in my adolescence when I noticed the rates in postage climb from five cents a stamp to six cents in 1968. I remember that and I remember thinking that was criminal the Fed could charge so much for postage. This was the time when I first got my first subscription to a magazine, a real magazine not some Scholastic publication. I think magazine was Time. The point was this was also the first time my name was added to mailing lists and I started getting junk mail which I hated until I started realizing that many of the come on they included self addressed envelopes with postage printed right on the envelope with a message telling the postmaster that postage would be covered if this piece was mailed anywhere in the continental Unites States or there was a self addressed envelope with a real stamp on it. I was disabled by this point in my life and had met some folks who did not live close by so I was beginning to write letters mote and more and 6 cents was 6 cents to a teenager with out a job postage added up and I wondered what would happen if a person just scratched out the address on these return addressed enveloped and wrote the address I wanted the letter to delivered to? Guess what? The postman delivered the letter and I was never summoned by the Post Master General. I used this method of getting postage a couple of time but was way too time consuming and to someone with limited hand function this activity too way too much energy for six cents. I mean really, you could still purchase a lot of postage power for a buck at those rates. Fast forward 40 years and times have changed 41 cents for a letter? This is exhortation! What used to be a bunch of stamps for a dollar is down to just three and some change. A stamp which has not been cancelled should be fair game.

White and Blue and a A Mess Too

I have been passive aggressed enough. I am going to have to start packing my office for this painters and rug layer what a pain. Front Desk Marrianne has been making overtures to the whole office about how I have not done any packing yet—I am sure I have the time, after all, Marianne herself said yesterday that the workers will not even get to the front office until next week or the week after. Still jus to quieten Marianne I’ll start looking like I am getting ready to move.
The painters have the back offices painted, soft whites and blues and a “sandy-cinnamon carpet. Carpet so disguised that you could spill an urn of coffee on rug and no one would be the wiser.

Hey Buddy Have You Got A Dollar?

I make coffee each and every morning in my office—this is no big deal since I am always the arrive—and I am really the only one who drinks the stuff. Front desk Marrianne drinks a watered down variation of the legal stimulant. I have the stay the office is very patient with my caffeine habit. However the office is currently under renovation and today the workers are going to lay the linoleum in the kitchen area which mean that every thing is to be unplugged and moved hopefully for today only. The guys have been working on the room for over a week now and the microwave was moved early last week to an empty office suite across the hall. I was going out every lunch period and buying something at one of the local fast foods. Yesterday I had had enough fast food and I was going dig out the “nuker” and found out the staff had been using the microwave all along. No one had told me which is typical. It took few minutes but I had staff move the nuker off the floor, and placed on a cart , so I could use it independently, and now have fast food in my office and a lot less expensive.

Yesterday, Marrianne warned me twice about the lack of access to the coffee pot I would experience today. I was cool with that. I have this great thermos I got from my mom this summer that I have not used yet—the thermos is a hand me down but looks great and would be great for housing coffee, even though the parents would freak If they knew this is what I was using the thermos for. I did not used the thermos though, I decided I would just travel over to Cup of Joes which is just down the block from my office. I had left the house about a half hour earlier then I have the last couple of days so I had plenty of time. I opened the office, flipped on the computer grabbed my coffee mug, ri9nsed it out and headed for Joes. As I approached the ramp which served Cup of Joes there was a disheveled women , who very much looked like a street person, and I knew I was going to be panhandled. Sure as I passed her she turned as asked if she could have as dollar for coffee. We were standing right in front of the windows of Cup of Joe. I thought for a second. usually these folks just ask for what ever change I might have, never are the folk brazen to the point of asking for a dollar.!! I had it and I thought why not she risked, reward the risk—good for her.

When the women first asked for the money we had been a ways from the coffee shop but I asked her to follow me up the ramp and this was how we ended up in front of the shop’s windows. She asked how much a cup of coffee cost and did I think it would cost a dollar. I told her I did not know since I usually brew my own coffee. But I mentioned that I doubt it, especially at a place like Joes. She said it did not matter because “they” the people selling then coffee had seen her panhandle me and she figure she was not welcome there and she would walk down to the 7-11 and see what she could get.

I don’t mind giving money to these folk, if I have the money, I see it as good luck and I need as much good luck as I can get.

What Me Blog?

My neighbor the old guy, he who is even older then and I, were talking this weekend about the new PBS series the War and I once again encourage him that he should consider writing a blog or at least scanning all the images he has from his WWII experiences. He of course came back with his standard answer “ no one would be interested in the pictures I have or what I would have to write”. I am compelled to advise him that I am interested, and that if I am interested there would be other interested. I encouraged him to at least get the images he has pretty catalogued in two binders so these images might be easily distributed to, at the very least, his family. I wish I could just do the job myself at least the scanning part—and maybe no one in his family would be interested, not right now but maybe some time. Possibly some where at the University o even NPR might have some project which is traveling the country taking oral histories of folk who fought in the WWII.

I believe my neighbor feels that if a person was not in the grunt of the battle then they were not in the War. Some how he discounts the actions of the millions of support folk who helped the country pull of this event or out involvement in the event. Most of he people I know who were part of the giant effort which as WWII were not in battle but supports, there is Barb, who was a nurse for the 82nd airborne, my Ex father in-law who trained bombardiers on the B-20 some things or even my mom who, though not officially in the armed forces chauffeured the military echelons all; over Gowen field in Boise Idaho during that period. They all played a part in the big show and they pulled it off.

Actually what my neighbor says beside what I have already written is that he has nothing to write about or would not be able to think of anything to write. I used to think that way but the more I have blogged the more I think I can never stop writing. When I think I have exhausted ideas to write about I will se something from the window of the train which will remind me of a certain experience I have had which is begging to be written about. This in in-turn makes me think how could someone who went through an international experience as World War II not have a million experiences to write about. When I ask Al about one of the images in his collection he can tell be about the event, what it was about and usually about some of the personalities of the people whose images are displayed on the snapshot. Maybe I should just get him to speak into the mic.

Why we do it I do not know—blogging every day is not necessarily fun-and for those who are counting I have not been blogging every day as I used to but hopefully skipping the days might bake the log better…or maybe not.

Willow Weep No More

The rains came and the temperatures dropped and over night Autumn swept in on our small house here in Utah. We still had the bedroom windows way open and I chattered most of the night—my own fault. I could have got a couple of comforters Dianne had piled at the end of the bed. But I was content to “igloo” up beneath my covers and my mid-morning I had generated enough heat in my sealed environment to be quite content. The room, though, definitely got chilly.

Earlier in the week the toilets started backing up and refusing to drain—if we let them set all night the toilet might flush in the morning but even the morning drain was getting “iffy”. Dianne finally called the rooter guy who came out rooted through the pipes reporting the pipes were clogged with tree roots. Roots from “Willow” a weeping willow Dianne planted more then a decade ago. Willow took off from the day it was planted growing a couple of feet a year. The joke was that I Willow had rooted into a city water main but in actuality the willow had found our sewage pipe. In no time the tree was huge, probably the most green thing in our yard. Willow's willows were graceful in the Summer breezes and offered me great shade from the Summers heat and sun's rays.. Willow was not a bad climbing tree but not many climbed. A granddaughter every now and then and Roy the neighbors cat more often then not.

We rooted through the pipes and forgot about the roots until this week. A couple of years ago the willow began listing toward the street. I had not really noticed but Dianne was aware of the list and began to worry that a great wind was going to come round and push the willow into the street. I was not worried though, the tree looked to have a substantial root system but this Spring Dianne pointed out where the trunk was beginning to cave in on itself, a kind of crumpling has began on the trees Eastern side. I had also noticed the willows were dipping closer and closer to the sidewalk Our Sister of the Perpetual Ride (OSOTPR) had taken to detouring into the street when she approached our house. When Dianne first broached the subject of taking down the tree earlier this Summer I passively resisted as best I could but clogged drains was something different . I think I had had time to say my good byes to the tree. I spent last Saturday morning raking up broken branches from a windy night. It was time for Willow to go.

A three man tree team came while I was working Friday making sawdust and a stump were the tree had stood. Dianne said the men were swift and efficient. The tree did fall into the street, as I had predicted the tree would if the tree ever did fall, to be sliced and diced with axes and chainsaw. The tree was gone in a manner of minutes. The tree takers also trimmed some noisy limbs in the back of the house too. Noises so loud and scary that Anakah will not sleep in the front room. But Willow is gone now like so many other things I thought were permanent. Maybe I am just being made ready.

MRI

Yesterday I did the MRI and I was able to get the blood work done on the same visit. When I found out that I had to be NPO( with out food after mid night) I scheduled the event for as early in the morning as I could so I would not have to suffer the discomfort of hunger anymore then I had to. I felt fairly fortunate when I scored a 0740 time slot. The time is good but also necessitated that I be at university Hospital way early. This was not an issue either since I regularly rides round 4:30 I would have mote then enough time to get to the hospital.

Isn’t it weird how even familiar things seem strange in the dark. To get to the lab at the university Hospital I park in the same area I do as when I go to physical therapy. I am up there twice a week but that is in the day light—I got lost I could not believe it. I had pull into one of the new hospital add on and back track and finally got to rehab. This was about 0700 and I get Radiology and Radiology does not even open till 0730! Hurray up and wait. I found a bathroom caught up on some old business and when I came back the lights were on in Radiology and I began clearing my throat trying to be obvious. Finally black haired ‘Denie’ looked up and asked if she could help me. I gave her my name and she gave me the paper work after making sure I was on her morning’s schedule. When I finally had my paper worked done I was led to an unmarked door and told to wait there. Denie indicated I was waiting outside the door because there was so little room in the MRI waiting room. Ok Not a problem.

So there I am at a non descript door in the bowels of the “old building” like I am waiting for the sign of some sort of secrete organization. I am wait till a perky black hair bops by opens the door and notices me and asks my name, I tell her and she checks her clipboard and lights up like a glow stick when she finds my name and tells me to wait for “ just a second” but soon returns and escorts me into the “room”.

Perky led me into a bay of rooms which looked like a set of Star Trek or a high tech Tanning salon: rooms with beds in the center of lighted doughnuts. She soon found a bed with a doughnut just for me and instructed that I needed to lift myself onto bed and lay down. This I could see could take a little effort and I began struggling to make the lift. Perky saw me struggling and called Becky, a flower smocked radiology person not nearly as perky as “Perky” but a whole lot stronger and heftier. Where Perky was friendly Becky was business, one the machine, sheet over my midsection pull the pants down and then told not to move—the machine told me when to breath and exhale and I was done in three minutes. I was soon back in my chair and out to the Lab for the “poke” blood draw.

The lab looked like it was run by Germans, I was checked in, poked and turned loose in less then ten minutes. I was only a half hour late for work and that was because I was trying to find a drive thru but there was nothing available readily on the way to work.

I was hungry but I was done with this part of my rehab experience. I am sure I have not heard the rest of this yet. In fact I am sure this is just the beginning.

Too Many Meetings

This week is turning into a somewhat hellacious meeting week. So far I have had a meeting or out of office experience every day this week and I have just found that I have yet another , tomorrow in the afternoon , and that is after a trip to radiology tomorrow morning at 7:00 or so to have blood pulled and a CAT scan! A MOTHER SUCKING CAT SCAN!!! Who know what they are going to find between these two diagnostic procedures. All of this because of some skin breakdown and a desire to acquire a wheelchair cushion which will protect my butt. So tomorrow I will bring in my van and Friday I will have bring in my van too since I have P.T in the afternoon. I can see this P.T. thing is going to become expensive if I do not watch out. I have a link on this page from my Youtube account. You can see an actual video of using the rickshaw. Please study this apparatus closely and if anyone can figure out how to build a inexpensive home version please contact me. I had Philly get this movie of me while I was working out.

I think driving makes me brain dead. I have noticed on days I drive in my posts suck or they don’t even make it to the blog. Luckily on Tuesdays and Friday I have the experience at the Rehab Unit and that is always bizarre enough to give me fodder for the blog. Maybe a soul like mine has to have people round to make life worth writing about. I had a meeting today which would have provided ample stimulation even without a train ride: a two and half hour meeting which been handled in one and ¾ or two hours. The only thing which justifies my time at the meeting is lunch. Today lunch was chicken cordon blue. What could have been a perfect lunch was mired with the plastic utensils. The plastic spoons and forks look fairly useable for people with normal hand function but someone like me with limited hand function cutting that chicken is a chore. I cannot even blame the plastic-ware entirely because I was sitting next to Andy, director of an Independent Living Center not far from here , and he is a quad with about the same hand function as I have and he was cutting away just fine—at one time Andy leaned over and asked me if I wanted him to cut my chicken. I of course said “no”—a crip guy thing, I am sure. My solution is to start taking my own silverware kit to these functions.

They started putting the paint on the walls today and so far the odor is not too bad. we have the doors of the office blocked open and I think that has helped a lot, the only issue with the doors being open is that all the consumer for the Mexican consul ant, which is up stairs stops first into our office. We usually keep our door shut and that cuts down on the traffic. Now if management would unlock the bathroom doors these folks would stop bothering us entirely.

Just Give me the Money

I take the train in to and home from work as much as I can. Not only is riding the train easier the driving taking the train is cheaper especially when the state reimburses me at 90 percent of what I pay. So I pay $27.00 a month now and get $24.00 and some change. This makes my transportation costs for work less then a dollar a day! This is a real deal. So I purchase the pass on my own dime then I have to fill-out a document and submit it to my office who in turn will submit the paper work to the State and about a week and half later I’ll get a little check in the mail I will carry round in my back pack and cash the check a week before pay day so I’ll have coffee money. I am pretty conscience about some things and getting this paper work done and submitted is one of those things. However, during month of the Freedom Tour and the impending Russian visit a lot of things got shifted to the “back burner” and three submission of my July mileage was one of those things. In fact I lost the receipt for the month. This is the first time this has happened. Really, I can let a month go and I would be ok, actually I could even buy the pass with out the state reimbursement even at 27.00 for transportation for a month and this is not only work, but anywhere any time the transit authority is operating weekend AND holidays.

All day long Marriane has been in “hover” mode making sure the forms are filled in correct and on time. Then she finds that I have not filled in the paperwork on the July Month and we are having to start sifting through the piles on my desk trying to find the receipt. We never do find it but I have been warned that it is time to clean my office and work on keeping the place clean—then she announces that if I can still exhibit the sticker on my bus pass for July then that sticker should act as a receipt since I would have had to pay the sticker ergo, I paid, and so I will have something to submit for the month of July—I will be submitting two months this months meaning ,. When they DO cut a check I’ll be getting nearly $50.00. Sweet.

Marrianne dumped an empty garbage can in my office this morning and announced I was to cleanse my office over the next week, which means to throw-way any and everything which is not bolted down by the end of the week. Last Friday the contractors started ripping up the carpet in the conference room and putting down new carpet…next well the contractors be painting the walls and next will be our offices and things will have to be clean for that—so welcome to the lost week. I guess I’ll just be answering phones.

Better But Not Buff

I am such a goose. I have been attending the physical therapy sessions for two weeks now, that's four sessions and I am feeling like I am getting “tighter”. Dianne even said she thought I was getting “tighter” I think I may have broken my head more seriously then I did. I am doing more push ups and really focusing time on the rickshaw, a mid-evil device I believe belongs in the realm of cosmetic rehabilitation. I brought this up to my therapist and I think I hurt his feelings because he actually banned me from using the “C” word in his rehab gym—give me a break. ?When I first rehabbed back in '66 the therapists had all these doofy signs scattered round the place like “Can't, not spoken here” or “No room for quitters” and the like. I just thank God that the Rocky series had not started them. I am sure there would have been images of Sly and quotes from all the Rocky movies everywhere. But I actually think Randy was serious when band one of my favorite words. So now I am going to be forced to drag down my old thesaurus and acquaint my self with all the synonyms for “cosmetic” that I can find.

Now get this. I realize the University of Utah is a teaching hospital but I am getting pushed off on to PT students. I don't care if they're graduate students and I donot mind being used for the occasional teaching prop but every single session and the PT, my PT is having to be “Mr professor”. I all of the sudden become the invisible piece of meat on the table while these “baby PTs” poke and prod. They really do that thing when I say something , you know to add something to the conversation, they just act like I am sort of a trained monkey even talking about me

in the third person. I really thought those days were in the past. Actually one of the PT2b s is sort of bearable He is from Philadelphia and we really did not really start communicating until found out he was from Philly and he asked if I had ever been there and I said sure back in February and then I think Philly( That's what I am going to call him” finally saw me as a person and not a teaching prop. There were four PT2bs at one time crowded round my body on the mat trying to push me over but I resisted.

Back to the rickshaw. I really pushed myself on the rickshaw yesterday , doing five sets of 20 reps. Even then I don't think I really did all I could do. The rickshaw is kind of beguiling too. It seems easy at first but with doing twenty reps per set I did find my self really beginning to feel the stress five or so reps of the third and fourth sets. /so maybe Randy knows what he is doing and maybe he is pushing exactly as I need to be pushed but well see.

No Free Lunch

Sorry it’s been so long since I last wrote but the retreat wore me out and I spent all day yesterday returning calls and last night I was still trying to get rested up from the Retreat. But I am back now. The Retreat was OK, good food and a chance to mingle with the Council. There seemed to be the mandatory “Ice breaker” exercise. The touchy feeliee stuff that is supposed to make the staff feel more comfortable with each other and sharing for the rest of there treat. The Icebreaker used on this retreat was “My most Embarrassing moment” Immediately I am having to filter my most intimate moments which many could very well qualify as most embarrassing , filtering out incidents involving bodily functions, clothing malfunctions or social relationships. Finally the wheel of just “embarrassing moments” came to rest on an event of one of the Kid Days adventures.

For new readers Kid Day was Saturday. Saturdays, of course, was the days I would zoom over to where my kids were living and pick them up in what ever “beater” I was driving and go out for the day. For further Kid Day explanations do a “kid Day” search of this blog.

So I being a divorced dad working for a private-non-profit, with bills . child support and what ever I was cheap—I would like to say poor but in reality dealing with the harsh reality of truth I think I was cheap thinking I was poor and always careful. My kids were young, Mark being about 10, Shelly eight maybe even younger and the to boys way young. Charlie the youngest was usually on my lap as we cruised the city. RC Wiley was one of the usually stops since they always had free hotdogs and soft drinks we did not hit them every atleast once a month. But one of the weekly “hits” a grocery chain in the area called Smiths. Smiths was a food chain which was morphing itself into the “Super-Store “ mode. There were three of their “super” stores scattered at the points of the compass round the valley, one in Kearns about 4500 south and 5300 West, 4500 South and 900 East and up town at 900 East and 900 South. Each market had a deli and each deli offered free samples: usually an unattended meat and cheese tray for customers to “sample” the deli’s wares. We would start at the Kern’s Smiths on the Westside, grab the samples there then move to the East Side an then the Downtown store. James are Charlie would stand on my lap and spear the delectables. I really did not think too much of this behavior, it was open to the public, and we were public, and was one way to feed the fam. Well, one day as were grazing on the sample trays I heard a voice from way back in the meat department say, “Hey, here’s that guy who brings all his kids in every Saturday and empties out sample tray. Then it hit me…I was this cartoon character, dragging his kids round eating the “free” food. I was embarrassed not only for myself but especially for my kids. I herded the kids out of the market into the car and probably down to McDonalds for purchased lunch and think that day may well have been the end out our “Samples” days. There is no free lunch.

Homestead Retreat

The office is on retreat for the today and tomorrow. Luckily, I am still at the office and will be for the next couple of hours. The Council staff went up to the Homestead just a little East of Park City to prepare the room and stuff. The actual meetings begin at 3:00 p.m. this afternoon, that is when I am supposed to be there. Dianne will bring the van round a bit earlier and drive me us up.

The Homestead is a nice—really too nice for retreat but it’s what the boss wanted. I just a bit bummed about staying the night, I really should look on this event as an opportunity to have an adventure with Dianne at the Offices expense. Actually the weather is beautiful, Fall like with bright, crisp, clear days. The days and night should be quite crisp at the retreat since the place is so high. I just hope the place is as accessible as they the think it is.

Bye Brooks

Brooks, the middle son, has been town for the past couple of days. He stopped for a visit on his way back home to Vancouver. He is on his own now. Moved up to Washington to open his own insurance office, Brooks did well here is Salt Lake and when the chance came open in Washington he jumped on it.

Brooks stayed at a motel—not at our house of Bridget and Gabes: very adult. Great way to have your home coming on your own terms, Party the way you want and see who you want with out any family fall out. Brooks should be home now or nearly home. It was sort of a crammed visit but we got to touch base with him an see that he seems to have a good handle on his life. Brooks will be training for the next six or so weeks some where like Wisconsin then come back and crank up his office into full production.

Dianne took Auni to the State Fair. I was supposed to go but I copped out at the last moment. I hate the Fair and like gatherings. Besides my butt hurt quite a bit lat night and the thought of driving all over the Fairgrounds in my power chair scared me to death to say nothing of having to endure the people and the animal barns. In fact we had a very early breakfast, a going away breakfast, with Brooks at Denny’s at 7:30 so Dianne and Auni could make the Pig judging event by 9:00. I was worried after Dianne with her recent surgery but she seems to be doing good. However I did not she was back by four o-clock this year( last year, Dianne and Auni closed the fair down not getting back until after 11:00) and Dianne was exhausted. I figured she would be. Dianne went straight to bed. Hopefully she’ll be up by 8:00 this evening ad we can watch a film I picked up yesterday.

I spent the day doing up some dishes, empting trash and visiting with Albert from next door. I then spent a time on the computer trying to figure out a music production system I purchased a couple of years ago. I am kind of excited about “writing” some music to use with some of the media I have been developing since it sounds like the music which has been running round the INTERNET is not as free as the music used to be and some of the music owners are going to start watching how it is being used on Myspace and Youtube and the other personal film havens a lot closer. I am making progress but the process is slow. I have some other pieces of software on my lap top that I want to understand better, this software might better at music development then the older software I have on the big system. If I com up with anything which sounds good at all I will post to the blog. Have a great Saturday night.

P.T.& Me

When I was at University I used to have the recurring nightmare that I three quarters through the semester and I realize that I have never been to one of the classed I had register. I think this is kind of a variation of the being in class naked dream. I would always be so unnerved when I woke but very thankful that “it was only a dream. I have been having that “un nerved” feeling all week like I was forgetting something important. Sure enough Dianne called me this morning and advised me that University Rehab had called to remind me that I had a 1:00 TODAY AT 1:00 PM!! This was a shock but made sense and also quieted my premonition that I was forgetting something. Luckily I brought my van into work today because we have an event tonight.

I left work at 12:00 and zoomed up to the university, found a parking place and was trying to get into a bathroom before my 1:00 o-clock when my therapist saw me and asked me what I was doing there so early. So early! I asked what he meant and he informed me I was scheduled for a 4:00 O-clock. A 4-O-clock?!! Great I was in no mood to hang round University Medical Center for three hours. I fell back on that great old not responsible crutch by just saying…”I just got a call and this time ios what they told me”; The faceless, unknown “they”. Lucky for me the therapist was able to switch some things round and was able to take me at 1:00. What a shock.

What was even more of a shock was the work out, the first real physical therapy I have gotten on decades. A lot of basic stuff but real physical stuff and stuff I was not ready for. Randy is my PT’s name. He is a good guy and really seems to know his stuff. Randy did a lot of resistive stuff in the upper extremities. You know like holding my arm down then telling me to lift it up—or have my arm extended and have me pull down on my arm while he tries to hold the arm up. Then he had be transfer out of my chair on to the mats and try to resist him pushing and pulling me. And then he had me do push-ups and this was a killer. Randy has this P.T. student assisting him so we had this guy hold my legs so the legs would not “spazz” out from underneath me and then I would do the depressions—boy that was hard my arms were just about giving out at that point. I was glad to do fakey flakey dips, you know where you just sort of bend your arms and then lock them in place again—but Randy was ecstatic for me filling me up with all this “raw,raw” P.T. fake support and I of course ate it up just like a new crip performing for the first time.

CD-Rom

I am the last one to throw stones but I hate when bloggers go for weeks without a post of any kind. I guess I get addicted to the blogs I follow and a bit frustrated when I go to the blog of my choice and there has been nothing written. Even iof only one image or just a short paragraph anything is better then nothing. I promise if something ever happens to me and I cannot write for a month or something like that I’ll either post as such or work out a ghost writer of some sort. I must add though the blog, which is one of my favorite, Dr.Oh’s Underweardrawer finally updated with a couple of new cartoons from her Scutmonkey cartoon series.
Which I guess was worth the wait.

It’s Tuesday of holiday “short week” an I can feel the pressure of the short week. The boss is gone and has left me in charge. This time however there is a major event coming up next week, the first two days of next week. I got an email from her as she was leaving which was a press release she wanted me to finish and I guess to mail out to the newspapers throughout the state. I can do press releases but they are not what I was trained in so I do not feel all the comfortable doing them. So, I get the press release finished and run it past our receptionist/office manager and she feel there are other items that should be included. If the press release was for a press conference I would see the need for address and times but since the press release is just announcing the winners of the UDD Council awards I do not see the need for times or address the release is just announcement. I caved in and mailed the boss, who I hope, is reading her emails and she’ll advise me hopefully by tomorrow. I have a list of the State’s newspapers ready to go and when I get the word I’ll shoot the email down the list and out it will go; still, I can feel the pressure.

I received my Story Corps CD today! It’s a nice gimmick SC does. You get a copy of the forty minutes of your interview. I doubt if I have the patience to sit and listen to it all the way through. I am trying to figure out how to rip the disk and load the interview to either My Space or You Tube. I mean I doubt there is any one out there who might want to sit through the interview but one never knows.

Don't Loose Your head

When I was bringing in the groceries, yesterday from the van, I had a major malfunction with one of those white, flimsy bags the grocery people load your groceries in to now day, for you convenience. Actually it seemed the bags railed against me in one instant and decided to disintegrate. I topped things all over the drive-way which was not too bad. A bags of canned goods hit the pavement and tried to roll away but the gutter got them and held them in place until I could retrieve the wayward cans by forcing them back into one of the bags the cans had escaped. This bit of aggravation took about fifteen minutes but eventually I got everyone into the house except the watermelon. The melon had seen it’s chance the second the cans ripped out of their bag and broke for the street. The had stuffed the fruit in one bag and I had been worried when I saw him doing this knowing the bags are flimsy and this bag was heavy enough I would most likely hold the bag in my teeth as I packed the grocries out of the van up the ramp and into the house. Any bump I might encounter might be just enough for, the bag to tear and spill; but I said nothing figuring I would be OK. I never even got the bag to my teeth, when the cans of milk split for some reason the melon took off as well. Down my lap and off my feet onto the concrete drive way and it the round fruit was picking up speed as it headed for the street and freedom of the open road. I was amazed to see the melon actually bounce as it hit the pavement of the street.

There probably nothing as lonely as a neighborhood on a Saturday afternoon of a holiday weekend. Everyone is gone, camping and swimming in the summer or skiing, sledding or movies and roller skating in the winter all I could hear in the wind rustling through the leaves. Lucky for me the same gutter which halted the flight of the cans of condensed milk also halted the moving melon. The melon just sat their glaring at me like a malevolent head. I tried a broom but that was no good. I tried one of my hooks and that did nothing but coax the fruit further down the street. I finally used a combination of the hook and my power wheelchair to push the fruit ball out of the street and even up the driveway. I almost lost him a couple of times but snagged him in the last moment. I tried to get the head up the ramp and into the house but clearly this was a no go. I know when to quit and I did. I left the orb out until Dianne was able to get up and come out and retrive the melon.

Dianne continues to heal, slowly as do I. We are just taking things easy this holiday. I cooked and interesting casserole last night and made some BBQ for lunch. Not bad.

September Satuday

Cloud popping—have you ever done it? Cloud popping is great sport on hot summer days. I read about cloud popping first a number of years on some webpage of the weird and strange maybe on Coast to Coast that all nighter on many of the talk radio stations round the country. A lot of wackos hang there but other strange and interesting folks hang there as well. Anyway-cloud popping is sighting in on a cloud a huge bi-cumulus nimbus or the like and then willing the cloud to dissolve then watching it do so in five or so minutes. My neighbor, Albert, and I did this for a while this afternoon the event was fun and relaxing.

I talked with Albert for some time today. It has been a while since I spent time with my neighbors. With all that has been going lately I have been kind of neglecting them so when Dianne went down for a nap at 4:00 this after noon I went next door to catch up.

Pretty much a maintenance Saturday for me, I got my wheelchair AND my power chair fixed this morning and did the weeks shopping after that. I am watching butt closely, dong lots of lifts and being careful. I went out without a butt dressing today and I think I am OK but I best be resting soon. I made a weird tamale pie type cassorle for dinner and just letting it cook now. Just one of those Saturdays.