Scan *Baby Scan

I started a long-term project, in fact the project I never cease I've accumulated hundreds of photographs the years and these are just my collection. I mean my mom had a zillion more photographs of family and family functions that withered away over the years. The items I have those life required over my lifetime partially through efforts of my mom and her, never ending quest to make sure that everyone had their own family album, over and over and over again. Many of these problems disintegrated over the years are at least pages any albums have, the images are still around but of all come away from the pages and I said, “I felt a couple of boxes”. Over the years I've just joined this collection with me wherever I gone and usually, unless there's something specific I was searching for what leave the box untouched. Every once in a while but I would be looking for something else in my stack of belongings, I would have to move one of these boxes and invariably start going through and reminiscing. The last apartment organization once again surfaced these boxes and I made a quasi-commitment to somehow put order to these documents. If I needed a reason, besides my own peace of mind I played with the idea of putting together a CD-ROM are data stick some sort that would have all these documents are all family documents particularly for Mark and Michelle of the images of their childhood that I have. Charles and James but also be included in the mess but I would allow Mark Anthony R Shelley to ferret out Who gets what or what ever .

I've tried this project before but ours got overwhelmed and with the project decide defeated by the complexity. I'm not for another try however and I think this time I might great inroads. I've developed a rudimentary filing system on my hard drive which I think is going to work. I think if I open enough holders and depositing like images and each of these folders I will have something to work with. Visit with my computer and the process is tedious and takes a great deal of patience. I don't think I have had the patience in the past now with Social distancing and personal quarantine I have developed the focus I need for this project at least for now. I think I wrote earlier about the images collected by my friends during the accident are just my accident presented to me in a green photo album. One of my friends whose image is make contact with me over messenger and she's been very supportive and now she wants to forward her any images from our school. Before I had just two occupied myself and to try to order to chaos now I have to please someone besides myself the pressures back on…

Yearbook Season

What a weird year?! Everything is different I don't know what I would do if I was a graduating senior this year. Actually, yes I do, I would go with the flow that's what you do when you're in high school even in college end up going with the flow more often than not. Interestingly however I have noticed a meme develop in the Facebook arena which is everybody is posting their yearbook graduation images. This is cool if you have such an image. Oddly I don't. High school was so bizarre for me (I've written a number of posts about the fact that high school that I graduated from was actually the crosstown rival from the school are supposed to graduate from but could not because of the major architectural barriers to a student in a wheelchair). The the bizarreness gets even more strange when one considers the fact that I did not I was not able to graduate with my class because of being held back a year for the time I was in rehabilitation following my accident.

I cannot remember how much the cost of the 1970 yearbook was to the students I think it was something like $15 or something 1970 dollars. I'd gotten to know the students I went to school with of course and I wanted a yearbook and I got one. Sadly like so many other events of my life of which I majorly participated in I did not get visual recognition. I think I still have that yearbook somewhere in my library but I haven't been able to put my hands on it this year. It's my fifty-year anniversary of my graduation from good old Borah high school. Where high was a big school I think I graduating class was something like 1200 students it was a long commencement. At the time I didn't really think a lot about what was going on. Since I really didn't live in the school district I didn't go to a lot of the end of the year functions. I did go to junior senior prom, and some of those kind of things. But overall I just kind of quietly slipped out of view. I'm currently sifting through all the images I have in my photo journals/albums and chaotic mess and I know I have some cap and gown images that outpost one of these first days maybe not hear it on Facebook. It's kind of sad though even though I graduated from high school I didn't really want to I'm glad that I did and actually I do have a warm spot in my heart for high school and Borah high specifically. I actually thought about going online and purchasing a yearbook and I was amazed to see yearbooks going from (1970 Safari) $75-$200. I guess it's a scalpers market for people who desperately want to capture their yearbooks. Also through my library again and see if somewhere my yearbooks been misplaced and then find some quiet time and wander through the pages of the year I was there but somewhat invisible…

Dirty Money

Luckily, I'm not far from my market and there's a fast food joint across the street actually, and Arctic Circle for what that's worth. Not real impressed with their menu but it is fast food and sometimes you just want to be irresponsible and enjoy something greasy, salty and not necessarily good for you sometimes you just want to celebrate being alive. I was going through a little bit of need to celebrate the end of a week Friday evening so I ventured across the street for some tater tots. Arctic Circle exit does a good job on her tater tots if you ask me – – even if they didn't tell you drowned tots in ketchup and come with a fairly edible meal.

I just been the market ahead everything in my little basket that I carry with me now to the market. I found out last week this market no longer allows private bags you know those trendy little our big bags which were common for weeks ago. In fact markets and shopping places often rewarded shoppers for bringing in their own bags as they are trying to get away from those the only plastic bags that are ubiquitous. I was shocked to weeks ago when I produced my bag and I was informed that they no longer allowed such devices because they were “dirty”. I had been in the market so few times not to realize that due to the virus things are changing in one of those things were no more personal bags, back to plastic unless you bring it a basket like I've got. I got 20 extra dollars when I paid for my groceries. I'm trying to build up my cash supply. It just seems to make sense in these bizarre times the least so I thought. Try surprised to see that already had what looked like 20 or $30 in my wallet already. Like I said I'm really not using or getting into my wallet very much these days.

I find it so weird places like Arctic Circle, which are still open, have their doors locked you can only order either through calling ahead of time in placing your order are going through the drive-through which I've done in the past just as a lark especially late night when they close their walk-in part of their operation. So dutifully I got in line right behind some kind of hybrid wagon I was afraid it was going to take a while but surprisingly the orders went pretty fast if one I came up to the window they asked if I was going to charge or use my debit card. Oddly, one of the reasons I got cash was to spend on my night out going through the drive through. It was just easier to pull my card out and zip zip then I noticed a sign in the window which said “we no longer accept cash”. I couldn't believe it and I still don't believe it but at that point in time in the afternoon I was not about to argue the whole concept of legal tender in the US government. Actually I was unsure, I always heard that merchants could not refuse “legal tender”. But now in this time of quarantine who knows what's going on and had not heard the whole thing about no longer taking cash. I guess the virus could live on cash but it seems to me it can live just as easily on plastic. I've kind of wondered if part of this whole social distancing is been an excuse to tie up a lot of loose ends like senior citizens, people disabilities and going to a cashless economy. I don't want to be the paranoid one but sometimes things look a certain way you think?…

Photographic Chaos

I don't know where the time went last night or yesterday but somehow the day did get away from me and I went to bed without posting in the blog. I'm trying to convince myself that not posting is not a big deal but it is kind of a big deal to me some of his prided himself on posting at least 500 words for us long as I have each day throwing up 500+ words. Really, a day go by without my posting. Truth be known I can go in, I have figured this out, how to go in and change the dates to which you want to give the illusion that I posted something yesterday that I actually wrote today. That's cheap like sewing labels for the expensive shirt into a cheap shirt that's what it's all about is that not correct? Appearances. What a joke. Hiding behind something as trivial as posting 500 words a day every day day in day out week after week year after year. I need to not lose sight of the love of writing versus being perfect in my postings.

Last week I had Annette, my helper, pull my dreaded box of photos from the bookcase. This box holds all of the visual data accumulated through my life. It is the revenant's of two or three family albums my mother put together during her lifetime many of which of disintegrated in time leaving only the photos randomly thrown into my chaos box of photos. My goal for the last couple years is to organize this material and somehow scan these images onto a hard drive in the hopes of producing some kind of a document before I pass my kids. I don't know why this is important just seems like something one should do at least for me. I know it's difficult to throw photos away, these individual snippets of life. I just want to hold onto them so badly. However the technology I can go the next step and at least tried organize them somehow. However, the task is daunting and many times overwhelming I have to sneak up on the project do a little bit there and a little bit here scan a little scan a lot and then wander off to do something else the only problem is I still have the mess on my kitchen table and other places in the apartment. I don't want to frighten anyone but there are so many stories with these images that I just might start incorporating some into my blogs. Not that my life is so boring I have to rely on outside stimulus like faded photographs but maybe that's the case. They say a picture is worth 1000 words I only have to have 500 for each pitcher. Or, what if that was my goal to write 1000 words on each image THAT would be a challenge. That might be fun to do and who knows might be a way to creep up on publication or possible publication of the book about my life. Droll as that sounds it could be fun. Not the life has to be fun but at this point in time when struggling with social distancing which means stay-at-home what a perfect thing to do.

Gut Punched

I'm a much bigger whiner than I ever thought and never has this been brought to my attention since this last earthquake which is about a month ago. I'm very definitely calling the beginning of this phenomenon the earthquake. I'm designating the beginning of this phenomenon at least a starting point. This morning as I was getting ready for my day – – it's Thursday and that's the in between day as far as my home health folks go – – but all of a sudden I thought I heard my neighbor upstairs what I thought was fine out of his chair. Steve, my upstairs neighbor is a good guy just kind wears me out sometimes. I'm very much aware of his presence however. Whenever he flushes the toilet my whole unit shakes or seems to at least appear in the bathroom. This morning, as I said, I just shaved and was bopping around the apartment getting ready get dressed actually I was in the middle of dressing with one leg in my shorts. When I hear what I thought was a “thud” followed by and ever so slight queasy that my stomach when I realized “son of a bitch!” That was an earthquake!! Sure enough another earthquake or as the news media locally is portraying these events and aftershock! I really do believe someone is trying to put a not as dangerous on these aftershocks as they really are.

This morning's quake/aftershock was weird what the phenomenon sounded like something heavy dropped on the floor upstairs (Steve's apartment not heaven). It came and went almost instantaneously quite frankly it felt like a slug in the gut, like a gut punch you know when you're not ready for it, unsuspecting. Like when you stand in line at the bank or the supermarket and the guy insanity turns around doubles his best and and shoves it as hard as he can into your unsuspecting stomach knocking the wind out of you and you most likely on the floor looking up totally confused not even yet feeling the trauma to your abdomen that is still seconds away. Today I got the gut punch but no abdominal trauma just a queasy feeling. I was waiting for things to really start rock 'n rolling the R&R never came which I guess is a good thing. I've really convinced myself that I'm going to be okay here at the apartments since there built on big “earthquake rollers”. Some sort of technology designed to take the stress and strain from an earthquake. Here I hope this is true and that the organization that I volunteer for Utah Non-Profit Housing Corporation got the money's worth when they built this property and some of the others we have on these earthquake rollers or whatever they are. I have to admit I know that I've got some form of an PTSD because whenever I hear rumble are the apartment shakes or even the dump truck/garbage truck passes outside my window I sense my heart racing just a little bit quicker than before. I doubt/hope this unhealthy feeling of anticipation will not mature into anything significant but something's changed in me and the world I guess. But something HAS changed!

Its A Wonderful Life

Like an exceptionally cold winter this plague of Covid 19, I think is beginning to break up and move on, but like said winter it slow very slow. However, it seems infections are becoming fewer as are the deaths secondary to this disease. This means that possibly there is light at the end of this tunnel. I'm sensing this and I get the feeling that others are as well. On the national scene many are anxious for the epidemic and for political reasons, economic reasons and possibly for humane reasons as well. I try to get feeling that a lot of folks feel that things are going to be back to normal just like they used to be but I kind of don't think that's going to happen. This engine is huge machine of human productivity/economy is one big piece of equipment to start once it stopped. The machine has been going for so long, And gotten so big and intricate that when it came apart and finally stopped the silence was deafening. Now, possibly, we're going to try to get that engine up and going again I think it's going to be possibly is challenging as the fight to conquer the plague if we have. This part of me that's saying 'don't let your guard down, keep your dukes up, keep an eye out for the sucker punch because it's out there and it's coming, remember I grew up with an older brother I know about sucker punches'

This past couple of weeks have been like we been living in a made-for-TV movie or one of those old movies starring Jimmy Stewart. You could watch what was happening and sometimes grasp what was happening but overall it just didn't seem real. Felt like it was make-believe but at the same time in the back of your mind you knew it was real and that little person who lives in the back of your brain keeps screaming “this cannot be real! Make it stop make it stop” and now feels like it just might. I'm totally amazed Dianne got her Stimulus money!. She's only one I know who has that's so cool it's bringing a little reality to this nightmare. Now, people are beginning to talk about what they're going to do once the things get back to normal. What's normal? That's got to be the major question and will we recognize “normal” when we get there? I hope so I think things can look different. Things as simple as a handshake or can be different. I don't think the fist bump or the double bump is going to suffice. Someone I spoke to today over the Internet suggests the Japanese might have a right in doing a deep bow. I kind of like that it shows a bit of respect as well as decorum I just don't know if the Western mindset can slow itself down enough to accept this kind of recognition of another individual.

They say coming back to “normal” is going to be a slow process which mean things are not going to be the same. Giant football games, baseball games, basketball games parades and even new year celebrations great and small are probably going to take another form if they happen at all. Actually, also in the back of my mind I think that you know what things are going to go back to normal in three months, six months may be a year or more. Little bit by little bit, even if big brother says nobody gets together anymore, the 6 foot rule stays in place, people are going to find a way to get together just like they found a way to get their hooch when it was illegal, and drive than 55Mph. After our human, the top of the evolutionary food chain. We are, as a species, arrogant the point that nothing will overcome or overtake us. We'll forget the crisis and the struggle and the sacrifice we all had to make the survive. Will do just fine until we get Roundhouse with the sucker punch that's out there because there's always a sucker punch and there's always another test…

Patience

I really wanted to strap on my mask head out the door drive down the sidewalk to the bus stop and ride into the Costco down on State Street. I had an excuse, had a good reason had driven over my glasses earlier in the week and were put together by my home health person, Annette. Costco does not open until 10 AM but I straight a head out the door at 8 AM. I checked route 47, the bus I would need, and they're running on 30 minute headways at 55 minutes past the hour and 25 minutes past the hour. In my head I figured I had adequate reason to be out in public, out in the world out in the virus.

I was trying to think of things to absorb the time So that I would get to the store by the time the store opened. I thought about doing my physical workout but that would put too much pressure. Somewhere during that time my phone rang and I was not able to get to it in time, of course. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had gotten the feeling that I had an appointment that I had either missed I was coming soon. In fact somewhere I was even notified about some appointment with my main Doc, Dr. Reddy. When I checked my calendars nothing showed up but still something worried the back of my mind something was due. For some reason I am not able to check messages left on my answering machine. I think it's something do with invading apps. However the phone number that I was not able to get to looked familiar to the point that I decided I'd return the call and sure enough it was my doctor's office. I finally got through on a number other than the one I was called on but that person told me that it was probably my doc's receptionist calling about tomorrow's appointment, but she would have the person who is my doctors receptionist, back. Now, I had a reason to stay home and work out at least until I got the phone call. Sure enough three force the way through my workout I got the phone call and could not answer the phone in time.When I was finally able to get through to the office I found that my doctor is not having people come in but will do a Tele – appointment. Essentially I will wait around until 10 o'clock when she'll call me.

Dr. Reddy thinks this virus is bad enough that she is rescheduling over patients to Internet/phone call appointments – – I know it's not just ready it's probably policy from Intermountain medical Center – – but enough caution that I started rethinking do I really need to go out, on the bus on this beautiful spring day? I had been getting by with the jerryrigged repair that Annette did on Monday but I dropped my glasses last night I must've ran over them again unknowingly because the lens was out this morning as they were laying on the floor by my chair and matter what I did I could not get the lens back in the eyepiece. This was motivating me to saddle up. However, I dug out my backup glasses – – the last prescription I had and I actually get but I with those specs. This certainly not as nice and less proficient as my currently prescription But the glasses are wearable and will get me by. I really don't need to go in. I can just hunker down for another day in the apartment and patiently wait for this scourge to pass…

Clean Shirt Mean Shirt

Classical paisley design

I've come to the reality that I should never wear white method I don't like wearing white. I do but for various reasons one most important is that it makes me look wide, very wide and the other Is the whole battle of keeping the vast expanse of cloth clean. I've always been cursed as far as keeping my closed clean. Lately, with the last couple years I've been trying really really hard to keep myself presentable but it just is a no go. I would love I would love to be able to blame this on my disability on the fact that I have hands that are less than functional but you know what I was a mess before my accident. So perhaps the messes on the front of my clothing would not be as monumental as they often are but they would still be there I know they would be. I am just a downright messy person.

I am amazed at people most notably women who could wear a white frock day in and day out. Especially on Mondays. When I was working I would notice colleagues and workmates Come to work wearing something white, a blouse, a white shirt, light-colored pants. They would wear these all day then show up on Tuesday wearing very close to the same outfit. I could never do that. Somewhere along the line from the time I'm finally dressed to the time that I meet somebody in public I'm going to drip, spell or wipe something inadvertently on whatever I'm wearing that day. It is taken my nearly 70 years to realize the best bet to looking halfway presentable to wear something dark with brown streaks or designs – – I was at my best I believe in the late 60s and Paisley were the rage a person can hide a lot of dirt on a paisley design. I'm still quite amazed that my mother purchased close that were actually in style at the time when it was time for me to go back to school after my rehabilitation.

This last weekend, Sunday morning I was actually making French toast! I haven't made French toast for some time but since I happen to come into some soft white bread earlier in the week and I still had a carton of its scrambled egg I had to use a.this is a perfect time. I don't know why I was so careful I wanted to be so careful not like I was going anywhere that day, Easter Sunday. Not like anyone is going come over to visit – – which could of happened but didn't – – I just want to keep myself unspotted. Over the years Dianne has made me towel ponchos. She would take a large towel could a whole at one end for my head that I would use that to cover myself often coming from bathing or shower. I begin to wear this item when I would cook and even eat on occasions when it was relatively important but I stay spot free. Yesterday I looked high and low I've pretty much worn out my towel ponchos. I guess I need to make a couple more. I do have one garment like this is not towel and fits way too tight to be a anti-splash device. But now I have some great excitement as I contemplate making a towel bib for the old guy. After all I know a bib Is not that flattering and I know that but neither is spots and stains all over a white turtleneck shirt…

Easter 2020

This is not the Easter Bunny but one of the rabbits from WaterShip Down it just seemed appropriate. Happy Easter everyone

I am really ready for this pandemic to start winding down. The novelty of home isolation and social distancing is pretty much run its course. I don't think I'm getting stir crazy per say because I have good interaction thanks to the Internet but I do have to admit I'm getting more and more concerned about what is going to be the result once this thing is passed. Already, I've noticed that UTA is cutting back its bus service which is going to impact me one where the other. I know this sounds very selfish and self-serving but it's true I am nothing without my transportation. Not that meetings I attend will probably ever be the same. Bureaucracies learn to get by with technology specifically with software like Zoom. Zoom has lots of problems that seem to be working and I think they will get those bugs worked out of the system and soon nobody will be meeting face-to-face anymore. Bureaucracies state and federal will save boatloads of money on travel and feeding the parasites who people the boards (I can say this because I'm one of them). Maybe I'll feel different once this cold spell that of Me cooped up in the apartment passes and I will at least be able to get out to the parking lot to read and out to the park to hang out in the sunshine.

Yesterday my cleaning person was over and I had her get down my giant box of photographs and photo albums in various states of disintegration. I really want to try to organize that pile documentation into something somewhat usable. I had her put it on the table and I just haven't had the energy are will to dive into it. I don't know where to start. The task seems overwhelming. Maybe I'll put it back up on the shelf and wait till cold weather arrives again to give me something to do while cooped up due to the cold. It's Easter Sunday but been very quiet here at the apartments of course. The high point of my day was Dianne coming over and delivering some treats from Harbor freight and hunks of her Easter ham and a great cookie. Pretty excited about the Easter ham however, I did have a small quarter of a ham sliced which is sliced and wrapped. The kind slicing it makes a perfect ham sandwich or something else that flat pieces of hand can be used for possibly scalloped potatoes but that's about all I think. I suppose it could be used for ham and bean soup or just ham and beans. Even though the ham is great and tasty the fine red meat just does not feel like real ham so Dianne's gift is greatly appreciated and very well may end up in some ham and cabbage casserole. I think I have all the things I need for it.

Tomorrow's Monday, ho-hum Monday, it's another day in the neighborhood if your social distancing. However, I will at least have my arm bike to look forward to – 40 minute Monday just maybe I can start working out on my rickshaw again. Even if it's cold outside, relatively speaking, I can push the weights down little bit. Then I write my blog and journal and enjoy the week. Hope this is not too despondent as I'm not it's just it's hard to write when all you have is your memories you can get out and make more…

Grandson Fun

It's kind of weird to say but I only have one grandson and that grandson's name is Asher. Interestingly I have four granddaughters and two step granddaughters. I don't have much contact with Asher which is too bad I think he is always been wary of me. I don't know if it was the wheelchairs are the power chair or maybe it's just me but I think I've always sort of frightened him. Interestingly, I'm beginning to have more contact with the lad as he grows.

Asher's almost 9 years old and I think he's pretty bright, not because of his grandfather are because he's a grandson of which I have only one but because the things he seems to know and do. Just recently I have become aware that he has at least one YouTube channel and I think he may have more but I don't really know how to access the other channels. I think he's done a splendid job for an eight-year-old almost 9 in fact many of the episodes on the channel were made two years ago at least it seems to be 100% Asher.

I wish I were better grandfather. I think I may have gone over this before in other postings about how I wish I was the like the grandfather in Sloop John B by the Beach boys. The grandfather in this song I think was a bit of a rascal bug. This grandfather and grandson somehow get work on this boat/ship and sounds like a party together, work together and just hang out together. And one of the renditions of the movie Last Of The Mohicans There's a grandfather Indian kind of guy Who is acting as one of the guides for the group. But this grandfather Indian knows how to throw a mean Tommy Hawk and is not afraid to use it. He runs and jumps and he fights just as good as his son and grandson. I'm not a very good grandfather, I know this. I've written about this in the past as well. I think I'm trying to be better, case in point the letterwriting campaign with a couple of the granddaughters that been doing over the last decade or so. What few conversations I've had with them over the phone of been quite stilted and limited and in real-time conversations also significantly limited. I would like to throw the blame on the distance between us and the lack of contact with each other but I also have another granddaughter in the same county here in Salt Lake that I also feel that we're greatly distant. I think she has tried over the last couple years that she's matured and I've tried to be there but they live in a distant part of the county and seeing each other is quite a task (honestly, this was the case as well when Dianne and I were together and I still had a van that I could travel with). I don't know if the letters of done much good except to establish some form of proof that I tried to be somewhat available in part of the kids lives.

One of the best parts of ashes foray in to video, Specifically YouTube is that there is a place to leave comments. I watched one of Asher's more in depth videos where he pretty much describes one of his favorite video games. The document is more than 10 minutes which I think is abnormal to anyone who produces a video. I left a comment which upon me going back and looking was quite extensive special for a little kid and my surprise within a day's time Asher had read my comment and responded, very adult like. I was impressed and proud and and somewhat encouraged to comment again when he decides to put up another video.

I love my grandkids even though I don't tend to show it too much. I don't know how and I know that's a copout just because I didn't have the kind of relationship with my grandparents that I wish I had. All I know is that I did not want to be like them well I one grandfather, my dad's side I think had real potential. Grandfather Smith at one time was a logger and I can see myself with him working on logging camp had things been just a little bit different…

OT And Me

In trying to be responsible citizen of this planet I'm trying to comply with the whole concept of social distancing. I'm seriously cutting back on the amount of travel I'm doing especially as the weather turns absolutely beautiful with the advent of true spring. Because I am not as mobile as usual and the meetings are no longer there as are the bus trips gone. I'm having to rely on being much more creative in my blog entries. This means to some degree going back into my history. Some like the “way back machine” for me anyway.

I think I mentioned once or twice my new respect for occupational therapy in the life of a person with a significant disability. By the time I got to the Elks Rehabilitation Center in the late fall of 1966 I was beginning to stabilize as far as a person of the disability. All my wounds it pretty much healed, with the exception of my spinal cord injury which basically never would, I was sitting up pretty well without passing out of throwing up or anything like that. I was definitely ready to begin my rehabilitation. Rehabilitation is kind of like being in school the concept is to provide the individual with rehabilitation classes as well as continued healing and adjustment to be a person with some major paralysis. Since physical therapy is a professional occupation professionals work eight hours a day so my rehab was a hours a day more or less Monday through Friday. Had six or seven classes throughout the day, that's what they call them classes, PT of course, mat class, rickshaw, resistant pulleys, standing board, and occupational therapy. Occupational therapy is a discipline of vocational therapy I guess. I really wasn't sure what it was supposed to do and because of that I never gotten a very good or healthy respect for the discipline. All I knew was that at 2:30 PM I would have the last class of my day which was OT (occupational therapy). I would be shoveled off to the side section of the building. It could not call OT a room it was a good-sized area even larger than physical therapy. They had a number of work tables with all kinds of tools and such. They had a room that look like an apartment with couch table working stove sink etc. the unit had a mockup car that I suppose people can actually learn driving skills (I never did) it seems part of my time was spent with electric typewriter writing which I love to do with as having to learn to do this with pegs (pencils attached to my hands usually some sort of glove device) and then type on a Selectric typewriter for 45 minutes. This is okay for day one day to the got boring really quickly. The OT, and interesting young woman reminded me in later years of Terry Gross, I couldn't really figure out what she did except try to keep me busy. She was nothing like OT's I would associate with later in my life. She finally settled down to a leather project like something you would pick up a Tandy craft. This was a session where I had a mallet and various tools for working with leather. I assume similar to those projects were to get this triple leather and end up making a belt out of it. In my creative moments and an effort to keep the occupational therapist happy and off my back I developed a monogram of my initials MLS which I spent at least four months pounding down to a diamond shaped piece of Leather about six or 8 inches long. I think I still have that piece of work I've driven around for the last 50 years. It's like one of things your kids give you for a gift on Father's Day You don't know quite what it is but you don't know how to get rid of it without hurting feelings so you hold onto it for eternity or until they carry you away clean out your desk.

This last experience I had with occupational therapy for my last neck operation has been totally different from learning how to swallow the learning to get around. Since I've pretty much learned to survive his past 50 or 60 years there was the whole lot they could teach me except how to bond with my therapists and that itself is worth all my time. I see now what OT does it so much bigger than I thought or new…

The Noble Lilac

It's spring and depending where one roles in his power chair one can be immersed in the cacophony of aromas, scents of spring as the trees surrounded my apartment complex seemed to burst into bloom. The tree across the way from my apartment is now completely out. I was a little concerned at first because the trees seem to lack behind the others here at the complex but now he she is in full regalia spraying and Easter. I have yet to roll past a lilac bush but soon I know that I will when that happens I'll be instantly transported back to my life on the farm.

I love lilacs even though I should have a hatred toward this beautiful scented shrub. The plant is just perfect in my estimation from its almost deciduous leaves small but effective to its overwhelming aroma when in bloom. We had to arrays of lilacs one to the northwest of our house and went directly east. The one east of a house was on the north side of the garage, we had detached garage which also acted as a storage shed. The lilacs formed a natural tunnel on the side of the garage out to the garden when the leaves are out. The lilacs on the northwest side of the house were a bunch of lilacs that went from the house north to the property line about 5 yards. Beautiful purple and white clusters of flowers hung from the branches like grapes. Lilacs were one of the only flowers I remember actually adorning our home. I'm sure there are other flowers that mom harvested or someone else did in cut and put on display that I don't remember them but I do remember cut lilacs in fact I cut a lot of those and brought into the house then my mother would arrange them. I was good at cutting lilacs because I don't know if it was a favorite of my mother's favorite disciplinary regimen. I can remember any number of times I was tasked with going out Lilac bushes and cutting a switch. Lilacs, it seems, yearly sends our rummers, new branches coming up from the ground if let grow will turn into another Bush. If harvested just right when the runners about 10 to 12 inches in length are little bit longer makes a perfect switch that hurts like hell when applied with enough force to the back legs which happen to be more than once a summer it seemed like. Even with that kind of thought process I still love the plant.

I don't really know of any lilac bushes close by the apartments But the weather's nice enough I will go searching the neighborhood to see if I can find any bushes whose owners might let me have a cutting or two. I guess a worst-case scenario I can actually traverse over to the old neighborhood ride do know there are some lilacs close by the house. Talk is cheap and I don't know if I really well go on such a quest but a noble quest that would be In a good reason to be out with my mask trying to be socially appropriate in distance from the rest of the world…

Faded Photographs

I deceived myself for a long time thinking I was more popular in my school career than I probably was particularly in junior high. I like to think that I could pass into the upper class of individuals at the junior high that I went to but once I became a bit more comfortable and who I was am looking back at my life with a bit more credibility – – I don't know if that's the right term but close enough right now.

As the committed reader knows I had my accident in the summer of my sophomore year which changed everything in my life of course especially in education course I was involved in as I transitioned from junior high to high school and all the kids that had been my friends and associates, many of which stretched all the way to grade school first grade even. I really didn't think much about my relationship with these folks at that time except they were my friends and I did appreciate when they would come and visit me at my hospital bed and some, a few at the rehabilitation center, but looking back I think I loved each one of these folks in a particular way. I've never thought of these guys especially the ones that I went to grade school with as an extended family but they really are I mean by these kids are in the same class that I was three or four years running. You cannot help but get close even though you don't live under the same familial roof is certainly under the same academic roof in the same academic room.

I don't know why I have begin ruminating over a certain action that happened right after my trauma possibly within a year. I can't get my dates down and I wish that I could. But, somewhere along the line I was presented with a picture album, remember those individual pictures that we got for me set for this yearbook are individual pictures that the school always offered the families? I'm sure everybody else did but I know we did at my junior high we traded Pictures like Baseball cards with a signature on the back. I of course didn't get any images because I was in the hospital. But somebody went through the effort of collecting a bunch of the guys in my ninth grade class and presented it to me pause at the Elks rehab. That is how I remember getting the album but I'm not really sure but somewhere this album appeared which I cherished for years only having it come up missing in the last couple of moves of my life. And actually the plastic sleeves that the images were in begin falling apart long before that little by little the images begin to disappear. That's okay, I'm ready let them go, but my focus now is who in the world went through the effort to put that image collection together to present to me? Seriously this had to be a lot of work and do some expense. The little photograph album alone was a pretty nice cost I think. There must've been 15 or 20 may be more images. They were assigned and cherished by me. I've started contacting some of the folks whose image was contained therein and asking them if they knew who put together this project. So far nobody can remember the album that alone who instigated the project. After all, that was almost 60 years ago! Still you think somebody might remember, they might.

Most of these folks I did not really hang with when I was at school. I did not go on any dates with any of the girls and I didn't get invited to any of the parties. But I know I got some support when I wrestled and I was always included in the groups in the hallways, at the hamburger shop next door are at the gathering that the football games of the high school. I guess as part of the group, the extended group and sometimes the extended group is better than nothing…

But It's Essential To Me

I rolled over my glasses again!It seems I rolled over them earlier about six months ago. I know this because it was in the cold time and I had to go down to Cosco, that's where I initially got the collapses, and was totally surprised and pleased to find out they had one more set of frames that were the kind that I had run over. So yesterday, I did the same thing. The glasses run the floor I saw them on the floor (the lesson is stop what I'm doing and either pick the glasses up our move them totally out of the way of my power chair like under the bed or something). This means another trip to Costco during the “stay-at-home time”. I do, my glasses are and essential need therefore I am perfectly justified leaving the apartment to go to where I purchased them for repair.

The temperature today is in the 60s, it's really nice bit overcast but very April like. I'm out of cottage cheese and I could use some more fruit as well therefore I felt fairly justified in gearing up to cross the street to the market. Just as I was getting ready to leave my cell phone pinged and it was my friend Elska, My text friend from the Netherlands. The Netherlands it seems has been hit really hard with the virus. She is home in lock down. She is very social conscious and aware of what's going on in Europe regarding the virus how decimated it has made Europe states. I made the mistake of letting her know I was on my way out to the market. She exploded back with Why!?! I told her because I needed the materials. Should not accept this berated me for my lack of social consideration enough to the point that I put off by trip across the street for cottage cheese and green grapes. I felt a bit sheepish, I even posted an image of myself with my black mask. That didn't help. I have everything I need, right now, in my apartment I don't need to go out just to get a social hit. Still, I can't believe I caved. Lesson: beware how much information I am willing to share with friends from Europe.

Tomorrow the weather is supposed to be as good as if not better than today. Tomorrow I'm thinking I will put on my black mask, make sure that my chair has a full charge that headdown the bus stop and go inbound to the Murray Central track stop which is where I also can get to Costco easily and have the technician at their optometry counter go to work on my frames. I might even consider an appointment, when the virus restrictions are lifted. Not that I'm making plans but if I should get some funding from the stimulus package a new set of specs might be in the run. After all I need to do my part to make sure the economy gets back to normal once this thing decides to move on and while I am out stop the market on my way home get my cottage cheese and grapes all the while wearing my black mask…

Just Dance!

I don't know if I could say I love to dance but I can say I really like the dance. When I was growing up dancing generally was not cool if you were a guy. If you're a guy like to dance back then you're a little suspect at least that's how I remember. But secretly I liked rhythm and that he call moving to rhythm dance then I think I liked dance. Of course, dance to not become cool I would say until the early 60s is not the late 60s but the advent of West Side Story Certainly increased the idea that one could dance and still be cool. I think it was 1958 or 59, I was in the fifth grade at Campus School and somehow (I'm sure was my mother and her influence) I got enrolled in and after school dance class offered byArthur B Murray dance organization. I'm surprised my mother enrolled me in the dance class but it was kind of fun basic ballroom dancing. Waltz, foxtrot, bossa nova and even the twist. One night a week for one hour after school I learned to dance. I wish I could say it was one of those things that made all the difference in my world but it did not but it was kind of nice especially part of being paired up with a girl and doing something with music. I think more than anything else that dance class did for me was to make me at least unafraid to grab a girl by the hand and head up the dance floor. Of course, all the dance classes in the world would not cure and adolescence fear of rejection but that's a whole other blog for a whole another time. And it's not like I'm going to do the foxtrot are a four step box waltz when asked slow danced it was just pull her close And move around the room to the music.

It was not until after my accident (1966) when I was exposed to real dance again I was in high school, Borah high and for some reason all the guys at the seminary table (the place for all of us kids who had early-morning seminary would sit before class) got parts in West Side Story And I would start listening to them every day is a memorized, and talked about the rehearsals and then finally the play itself. I think that was the first time I really missed being able-bodied up until then (this was like almost 4 years after my accident) there is too much happening in my life rehabilitation, adolescents interrupted then started again and adjustment to really focus on the little things like wrestling, running, Skydiving and dancing. However, ever since working with the play and the guys at high school alloys wondered why there hasn't been some kind of dance program for folks in chairs. Not so much anymore but when I was in my manual chair I love to dance to the music, usually by myself of course, but give me a flat surface like concrete or wood or tile And tires pumped up as hard as they will go and then some good backbeat music for me anyway. There are others, in chairs, Actually do dance to softer music almost ballet type and I appreciate that too. Nice to move to the rhythm no matter what.

In fact I think I'll make a commitment to myself. Maybe, worked to get back in my manual chair by some hard surface and do a little bit rock 'n roll way that good old rock 'n roll.

Palm Sunday

It was not intentional, I wish I could take some credit for a brilliant thought of leaving the apartment and zooming out to experiencing a beautiful spring day even though heavy dark clouds broken by shafts of sunshine permeated the afternoon. Finally, I got some decent sleep and woke up totally rested and excited to enjoy this fifth day of April.

Last evening's as I went to bed I checked everything except for the position of the pendant that I operate my bed with. That usually hangs on the wooden stand that's next to my bed. If I don't watch closely the rear wheel of my power chair will invariably come to rest on top of the cord to the pendant meaning either have to finagle the chair to turn on and then operate to hang control with a stick and push the chair forward enough to liberate the cord. There have been times that I ingeniously used one of my sticks, which just happen to be close to the bed and actually be able to pry the wheel off the cord enough that I can yank the cord free. Last night I was able to actually move the forward enough to free the cord. As I maneuvered the chair I noticed the charger cord to my cell phone was somewhat tangled around the rear tire. I actuated the joystick some more with my stick and thought I pretty much it untangled the charger and went to bed. However, on rising this morning I did not even think about the cord entanglement from last night as I headed for the bathroom I heard a giant crash and behind me was my nightstand tumbled to the floor by the errant cord. Gently and slowly I backed up exactly as I left and thank goodness was untangled and is able to go on my way. In due time is able to get the nightstand affrighted and begin picking up debris. Already events were taking place that I had not planned for my Sunday morning. I cleaned enough debris that I'll be able to get close enough to my bed tonight to transfer and will have Annette pick up the rest and vacuum in the morning

It's Sunday the day I love to cook. Last week on the sharing shelf I picked up Campbell's soup bag whose contents were designed to make beef stroganoff. I had a pound of stew beef purchased a few weeks ago in the freezer which I brought down and began thawing. I decided to do the beef stroganoff for dinner. All the time I've been doing the events of this day I've kept an eye singular to the world outside my window. The clouds are dark as I indicated in the first paragraph but I went out for a short moment to explore what the day felt like in the day felt beautiful! I put together lime Jell-O with a can of fruit cocktail and the rest of my cottage cheese the process together perfectly. I threw the Jell-O in the fridge for four hours and with that behind me I bolted from the house. I should've been more attentive to the mess in my bedroom and I probably should have made some bookmarks but I was bitten by spring fever (I think I just messed up that metaphor). I had my cell phone with me and decided to document some trees around where I live as my homage to spring and Sunday… Palm Sunday

No SurrenderToday

It's 5:24 a.m. and I been layin here since Before 4:30 a.m. Trying to go back to sleep. I guess that's OK I've learned especially when I go to bed ,what I think is fairly early like, 11:30 PM. I'm going to wake up pretty early. I need to accept that and get on with the fat that that's how my life is right now and for no reason to I think it's going to change especially as I get older. The bottom line I guess is that I'm OLD and Getting up early is what old people do. It's been difficult to accept this agent thing from my body becoming more and more decrepid to these weird feelings of not being able to sleep and wondering what's happening in the world. I'd like to think perhaps it's the pandemic that scripting the world right now but somehow I don't think so. I'm sure if it wasn't the the pandemic could be something else.

Accepting becoming elderly has been one of the most difficult things I've ever done. Compared with my spinal cord injury, spinal cord injury was a walk in the park or should I say “role”. I was young extremely optimistic and believe anybody told me and didn't know a single thing about disability. This I believe is my saving grace. I did things which seem to be impossible because no one told me I couldn't. Perhaps if they had I would not have been so independent. Kind of thinking this senior crap is the same thing. I've been fortunate to not really act like a senior just because I don't know how. Living here though at the apartments I guess I'm getting lessons. For the most part I'm not paying a lot of attention to the lessons (and perhaps I should). Maybe I need to figure out a way to take a nap midmorning or midafternoon. For those early mornings when I can get back to sleep. Maybe I should learn to play bingo, card games at jigsaw puzzles which seems to be a staple of entertainment for a lot of the folks here. That's asking a lot of me which I don't think I would be able to comply. So right now I and of yawning a great deal, I spend a lot of time with my chair laid back trying to catch a week or two during the day that may be as close as I get to a nap. As I'm writing this I'm changing my direction even as I type. I was going to write this from a place of compliance and acceptance of the old age label but you know, I'm just not there yet. True of almost 70 years old and that is old by any definition but may be by clarify it or at least deny it by indicating I'm a “young” almost 70.

Never before have I been as careful in my transferring from bed to chair and back again as this year. Even just sitting in my chair, now I'm feeling at risk. If you hours ago I spent 20 minutes pulling myself back into my chair when I thought I was going to slide out. I had undone my safety restraint when I cathed And neglected this class of my restraint. So far I have been able to mitigate these kind of issues. But I also recognize just by process of aging is going to come a day I'm going to need a lot more assistance but thankfully that is not today…

Bazooka Joe (Mort) and Me

Somewhere along the line I think I finally turned the corner and realized how dangerous the time I am living in. I think up until this last week I knew we are in a crisis but didn't really grasp how much the crisis was now close to home. I am now seriously considering either wearing my small collection of facemasks that I've got. They're pretty flimsy and I don't know if they be of any assistance really accept to give the illusion of protection for those you might have to interface with one where the other. The other option would be to pull my shirt up over my nose like that one character, Mort in the old Joe palooka bubblegum funnies. Boy, I could launch off on a tangent about bazooka bubblegum but that will have to be another day. And you can tell if you look close that Mort's turtleneck doesn't go up over his nose but you get the idea I'm using my shirt as a mask. I doubt I can find a real mask now if I tried though it be kind of fun try and have a real one to hang up my chair make me look like a real street warrior during the Covid 19 wars. And speaking of wandering, I've become a convert to the seriousness of being out in the community. A few hours ago I jumped a bus and headed southbound to harbor freight. Somewhere along the line last couple weeks I've lost my coveted bamboo Japanese handsaw. I love this tool and I use it in spurts when I have to cut down my hooks when I break them in redraw to put a new book in. I think I've rented out to someone and I've forgotten who. I really want to work on my stick's/hooks. (I really should tell the whole story but I don't have the patience for that right now. Let's just say that I had ordered a handsaw from Amazon but paid way too much and I sent it back).

It's actually a beautiful spring day but more chilly than not. I had my shirt up over my nose like a bank robber and the driver she was wearing her face mask as well. We looked like A member of a gang. It's kind of interesting right now. Because of the Covid passengers enter the back of the bus. Only people in wheelchairs like me enter the front. I think it might be a union thing to protect the drivers. So you had the two masked desperados on the front of us had in South.Eventually riders begin to push forward and I was supersensitive that was wearing a mask and who wasn't even who seem to be well and who wasn't. I made sure I didn't touch anything (and I'm never like that) I'm going to start carrying a bottle of hand sanitizer with me. I felt the same way in the store when I got to Harbor Freight. I totally enjoyed wandering around the store and keeping my distance from other shoppers most of which was wearing a mask and I just look like a bubblegum character. I did great at avoidance and actually came back home I think free of damage. In this morning's mail I got a notice from my credit union, which I have an account that Dianne and I both have our names on from the marriage. When I get these I put them in an envelope drop in the mail. I did that today was heading down to the mailbox when I turned the corner and there was the Resident Advisor Diana. I didn't realize she had been sick but she has been and she sounded really bad but she was all bundled up with a mask but still I consciously didn't even want to be close to her. Her voice was all squeaky she kept breathing like she was ready to fall over. She was coming toward me there is no way I could hide or get out the way so I just basically hug the wall as far away from Diana as I could. She even volunteered that shouldn't sick for a week and had gone in a couple days ago to be tested and should just gotten the results indicating that she was negative for Covid 19. I don't know how much I believed her. All I know is I hugged that wall and vowed to stay in my apartment for his long as it takes…

Choose Him Choose Him!

I have to admit I'm get more than a little spooked as this Covid 19 continues to rattle its way down through humanity. People are beginning to die in large quantities or they seem large when reported . Even in the thousands compared to the millions it's just a drop in the bucket certainly makes great press. This seems to be very little real news anymore just bits and snippets because the world's got its hands full of the virus. Even as I write this I cannot fully grasp the size of what seems to be happening. I got a give this country/the world credit in that everyone is trying to work together at this point however at getting the realize and think that if this pandemic gets any worse social courtesy I think will begin to erode.

It only starts out as a suggestion or thought planted in the ether and little by little the thought tends to take hold and then grow. Couple weeks ago United States Christian right or FOXNews one the same, in my opinion, just made the suggestion however slight that possibly Seniors should think about considering ending their own life so that the younger population might survive. Actually the news report that I saw was by an elected official who is like 70 years old indicating that he would gladly die our offer up his life so that his grandkids might survive. Wow! That is more than hard to argue with not sound like a creep but you know what, I am a creep! At least try to be honest and say that I don't think I would sacrifice that. I don't think I would take a bullet for the kids or grandkids. I would rather let nature take its course one where the other. Again not to get to paranoid or conspiratorial theory type what if, just what if this virus was engineered by A government who wanted to get rid of their seniors. I suppose that's bizarre thinking but sometimes I just wonder.

I am writing this post at the time where I usually meet with a number of the folks here at the apartment complex in a group called Coffee Social,An interesting exercise in socialization. Most of the people there are older than I am which gives me a good perspective when I think I'm wandering away from what is real too far. These folks are fairly conservative and it wouldn't surprise me if it was for saving their grandchildren that would be lined up at the door to the crematorium.I mean is not the ultra stick thing to say “I would give my life for you”? My mom often said that I didn't spend much time thinking about it until lately. She probably would've but they talked a lot like that in the old days. I don't know what would happen if they really had to be put to the test. I'm going to remember this question and bring it up at the next coffee social if we ever have another one. I think the new normal is going look a lot different than the old normal.

Sad to say I kind of feel like the bear in the Gary Larson cartoon, even sadder to say I'm the bear doing the pointing…

Disability Strong

I think this post is going to be kind of a dip into fantasy thinking but it's one I like to play with every once in a while which is the inherent strength of people with disabilities and that is almost a contradiction in terms in some ways about I said I like dabbling in fiction. As we continue the cycle through this pandemic, this national crisis it's easy to get terrified at least for me it's easy to get terrified then I sort a step back (rollback) and shift things into perspective. Hell, the stress, the economic stress which is being caused by Covid 19 In many ways is what people with disabilities are having to contend with all the time. People disabilities it seems by the general nature are usually people who are low income. Come the first of the month there always sweating how to get a pay the rent? How are they going to keep the lights on? Are they going to go to the doctor? And on and on. When I was employed with the independent living Center one of my job duties was to be the housing coordinator for the center which meant that I often had to work with people with disabilities in crisis situations (which is all the time) and figure out how they were going to pay for the coming rent. This was unsettling work that I never got used to it always worried about but people tend to survive I think as a collective this is one of our strongest points, too bad world. Some people with disabilities work or used to work, have transportation their own vehicles for example, or used to but for the most part people disabilities just have to figure it out.

I'm trying not to be uncaring and I do care I care a lot but still almost entertaining to watch these masses of able-bodied folk running around being terrified of what's going to happen to them because of the virus. I'm not talking about the ones who are ill and who are on deaths doorstep are inside the death house already but those who are out of work and facing rent, car payments medical payments etc. etc. And it looks like to the most part the Fed's go to save their butts (and I'm thankful for that) they are getting the payment into their checking accounts, it sounds like at least some sort of rent protection our house payment protection, and everybody's being “gung ho” on helping everybody get past this nastyTime. I really am impressed at the length the electorate will go to ease the stress and pain on the voters. The sure don't work that hard for we people at disabilities.

Disability strong, I'd like to think I made this term up but I doubt that I have. I'm sure some enterprising self-promoting para or disability equipment marketer has coined the term in some sleek and sexy marketing campaign. But if I were to do such a campaign regarding folks with disabilities coping and surviving every day regardless of Covid 19, earthquakes and Meridian Idaho and the collapse of civilization as we know it I would certainly use “Disability Strong” probably exemplifying how people with disabilities continue to stick around because for us everyday's a crisis…