Age is Just a Number

Halloween Tic Tac Toe

For a little Halloween fun, go Here.   And don't forget to have your speakers on for the cool digital tic-tac-toe-ee-soundness they've come up with.

Okay, Just One More...

My One and Only Political Statement

For this election anyways.

Friday Humor

I am a little nervous, Doctor, this is my first operation.
Doctor says, " Mine too!"

Nurse, I am seeing spots in front of my eyes!
Nurse says, "Have you seen a doctor?"
No, just spots!

Doctor!  Something's wrong!  I'm shrinking!
Doctor says, "Take it easy ma'am, you'll just have to be a little patient."

Doctor, am I gonna die?
That's the last thing you're gonna do.

What happened to you, Mrs. Hanson?  You look awful.
Well, Doctor, you told me to take this medicine for three days, and then skip a day.  And all that skipping wore me out.

Doctor, I think I am suffering from memory loss.
Have you ever had it before?

Distracted with Discomfort

I pretty much don't like pain.  I have had a pain in my left hiney cheek since March.  Many stretches and many miles later here we are to today, post MRI and diagnosed with a crapped out disc.  Left hiney cheek...crapped out - you'd think there was a joke in there somewhere.  But I sit here, painfully, because sitting is the worst position on the planet right now, not feeling the joke love.  Tomorrow I get this pro-ceed-jure done to relieve some of that hiney cheek pain.  It's amazing how the pain ramps up like it just needs to really get you before you eliminate it.

Now, there are a few medical words that I wince at and hope that they never apply to me, like Spinal Tap, or Catheter or Lobotomy.  Another one is Epidural.  It just sounds frightening.  I get one of those tomorrow and, frankly it scares the crap outta me.  Yeah, another joke on the horizon.   Anyway, just one little earth tremor or fit of tics and you get a different angle of me.  Is this too graphic?

I am assured that this is a fairly mundane pro-ceed-jure, but maybe the whole not eating or drinking for 8 hours prior is what is stressing me out.  That's not even a little spittle during my entire workday tomorrow.  They said something about "asperating".  Dictionary.com didn't fully convince me that this is something I need to worry about, but the word just sounds icky.  See above paragraph.  I think I am going to go all out with the whole fasting thing and not even bother with breakfast.  I am H2O loading this evening.  But enough about me.

What all this blasts forward into my thoughts is my mom.  When I was little, she had a crapped out disc.  However she ignored the pain, continued to help my dad with his brick-laying trade and eventually lost certain amounts of basic functions, then visited the doc where she had emergency surgery NOW.  That was 1965 when they used big kitchen knives in the surgery room.  What I remember is a coupla things:  they didn't expect her to walk out, she nearly bled to death, and her disc was like "a wad of chewing gum and the nerves were like string mashed up in it".  They cut many in their efforts to sort it all out and she never had feeling in her toes again.  But she walked by golly.  Maybe this is some sort of twisted memorial ceremony for her passing almost a year ago.

Back to me....when I was 21, after a hot and heavy fire season as a tough, skinny firefighter, I got a pain in my right hiney cheek.  It progressed rather rapidly such that I passed-out upon any hint of movement from the intense pain.  After refusing surgery - mom came to mind, and of course, no insurance - I laid in bed for 2 months where I recovered and eventually managed to lead a Normal (that's relative, mind you) life.

So don't mind my scarcity.  I've had pictures of the DNC, pictures of the Zoo and other stories I've wanted to post, but pain prevails, and lack of energy, and grumpiness....and distraction.  Hope you don't mind.  The DNC is old news anyway.

Speaking of colors, textures and the Old Country

Guess I've been home long enough to start yearning for a vacation again ... so I am reminiscing.

Still in Assisi -  A friend told me that they were good with a Haagen-Daas back here at home after they returned from Italy - gasp!  When I queried further, she said that she had not tasted the Pistachio gelato.  Gasp again!  The rich, creamy, chock-full-o-nuts, flavorful green dollop landing on the tonque ... haagen-daas, naagen-schmaas.   

This shop is rather a "designer" gelato shop.    And, the other photo is - sigh - just another arch, on just another side street, in just another Italian village ... (for newbies, you can click on the photo for a larger view)

 

Flashbacks to Italy

While it is taking forever to go through ... oh why sugar coat it ... to get to the pictures from Italy - I had a little flashback when I opened a few to look at.  I find the memories grow more, shall we say:   yearning.   A trip this big, I'll admit, was a bit overwhelming, but I've got 2000 pictures to look back on and smile about.

This is where every wannabe Pope shops in Assisi ...


   

Sign of the Times

How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.
 
Henry David Thoreau

Who is Nathan?

I don’t know much yet, but I hope to find out.

Spouse-man and I were involved in this last Saturday where boatloads, trainloads and carloads of people showed up; rumor has it, about 12,000. Our jobs? Trash and TP, and a variety of other "maintenance" tasks. Our tasks, really, are irrelevant and not worth mentioning any more than this except to set the scene of how Spouse-man ended up where he did.

Spouse-man was out in the middle; middle of the church foyer, middle of the building, I don’t know, except he was in the line of sight of someone told to search for "anyone in a green vest".

"Can you escort Nathan?"

And off Spouse-man went to push around this man in a wheel chair for the next 3-4 hours – in the crowds, in the heat, in the sun. I found him at some point doing his other tasks, probably while Nathan was parked at a venue, and he mentioned that he was escorting a man in a wheelchair – I thought I detected displeasure. My first thought was "this is going to so piss him off, he will never step foot into another volunteer capacity ever again".

I caught up with him toward the end of this adventure where I spotted him from a distance pushing Nathan along; the first time I saw him. Spouse-man introduced me to Nathan, who, as I discovered, was quite limited in his ability to communicate. I realized after happily greeting Nathan that I was asking questions that he was so desperately trying to communicate an answer to - that he fumbled for his computer screen. It broke my heart. I hugged him. Soon after Nathan’s ride arrived and he went on with his life.

I am in awe at what God put before Spouse-man. Nathan was escorted to several different stages over this time where they listened to music for a bit. If I have my facts right Spouse-man pushed his wheelchair across half of the 70 acres of dirt and grass, ruts and holes to the Main stage. And, he helped Nathan in his complete state of vulnerability with a bathroom break.

As Spouse-man was recapping for me yesterday, he told me all of this and other bits and pieces of his time with Nathan. He specifically said "Those were my difficulties. Not my complaints." I asked who assigned Nathan to Spouse-man, and he answered "God did."

This is the hi-lite of my entire 16 hour day at this event. It renewed my amazement at just how detailed and specific God puts His hand into our lives. I don’t know how this was hand tailored for Spouse-man - although I’d like to think I am clever enough to know – and I certainly don’t know how it touched Nathan. For me? I found more understanding of Spouse-man and his capabilities. So often I want God to change things in Spouse-man right now because of my own discomfort or for my convenience. But a number of years ago? Or in his previous life with The Mother? – I didn’t see him, or imagine him, in any kind of place or space or time or position to escort a man around named Nathan in a wheel chair. Spouse-man has come a million miles in the last several years. Thank you, Nathan. Thank you, God.

Keeping the Neighbors on Their Toes

I wish I had more nerve than I do to really mess with people. You know, in a fun and mischievious way. Mom did, why can’t I? I think it’s due to brain fog that I don’t. Gimme time.

We live in a typical suburban housing development with typical HOA restrictions and resident HOA Nazis, with the allotted 10.2 feet between the homes. However we live on a corner, read: more exposure to nosiness prying eyes local interest. Except, of course when our car was broken into in the middle of the day right out front…. And nobody knew nothin’, heard nothin’, saw nothin’.

We had landscaping done. Yes, you read that right. We payed someone to come in on 95 degree days to perform arduous physical labor to complete all those jobs we have spent the last 5 summers trying to do ourselves. We had pallets and piles and more piles and tools, and trailers and trucks and people all converging onto our little square of real estate, all accompanied by the standard portable two speaker radio blasting out classic rock. I could almost hear the swish of the curtains as our neighbors across the street peered out to see what was happening next. I’ve seen the raised eyebrows when, of course, we answer Yes to the obvious questions – you’re having that done? Yes. We. Are. And the little wheels grinding in their heads running the mental calculators summing up what they think we are spending and formulating the ways, hows and whens of the funds to pay for all this. It humors me.

I know this because I’ve done it. I’ve watched the furniture trucks pull up and spy the goodies being unloaded. I’ve made the judgments. All those years of watching our neighbors … or better, The Mother, with the deliveries of tangibles. I most likely did it out of envy, since we lived in our house for 3 years with a sum total of one 48" round dinner table with 4 chairs, 1 rocking chair, 1 bed and two dressers, and two broken-down hand-me-down couches in the basement as the sum total of our basic "real" furniture. I got tired of either sitting on the edge of the bed, or at the little table. That being said, my judgment-o-meter was pretty high.   I’ve learned a little since then.

So, when the next person asks about the work we had done in some direct or indirect manner in that blatant, subconscious, off-handed way yearning for something resembling how many dollars were spent, my new answer will be: "We turned off cable."