Physical Therapy
Day One: I'm not sure, but I think they are trying to kill me.
Day Two: Yep.
Thursday, May 30, 2019
Thursday, May 23, 2019
Mystery
Cue Righteous Brothers:
"I had the time of my life, and I owe it all to you, yeah...
The elementary school called me some months ago and said they had a mystery reader every month to read to the children, and they wanted to "go out with a bang" in May. They had called the local arts association and asked was there a local author who wrote children's books, and they recommended me! They wanted to purchase my book, "The Crow and The Wind" to give to the children, who would read the book as I read it aloud.
Many of you know I have been bedridden for 5 weeks (hence the lack of blogging), but I promised I'd be there if I had to go on a stretcher. It wasn't that dramatic, the wheel chair did fine, and they got me a really good chair to read in on stage.
Husband sat with me, as he is the illustrator of the book.
640 children filled the auditorium. They quieted down, I talked a few minutes, and when I began to read, there was total silence except the turning of 640 pages in tandem as I turned mine. I get chills typing this.
It was wonderful. Thank you to the elementary school for this privilege. I'll never, ever forget it.
"I had the time of my life, and I owe it all to you, yeah...
The elementary school called me some months ago and said they had a mystery reader every month to read to the children, and they wanted to "go out with a bang" in May. They had called the local arts association and asked was there a local author who wrote children's books, and they recommended me! They wanted to purchase my book, "The Crow and The Wind" to give to the children, who would read the book as I read it aloud.
Many of you know I have been bedridden for 5 weeks (hence the lack of blogging), but I promised I'd be there if I had to go on a stretcher. It wasn't that dramatic, the wheel chair did fine, and they got me a really good chair to read in on stage.
Husband sat with me, as he is the illustrator of the book.
640 children filled the auditorium. They quieted down, I talked a few minutes, and when I began to read, there was total silence except the turning of 640 pages in tandem as I turned mine. I get chills typing this.
It was wonderful. Thank you to the elementary school for this privilege. I'll never, ever forget it.
Friday, April 12, 2019
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
All He Wanted to do...
It occurred to me, as I was telling this story the other evening, that I had never blogged about it.
And as stories go, I think it's a pretty good true one.
Some time back, Husband had his yearly doctor appointment for the dreaded physical.
You know what I mean: what might they find this time? As we get older, it seems the staff are rubbing their hands together with glee, anticipating the new diagnosis.
He'd had a 45 minute road trip, and being a male of a certain age, wanted to find a bathroom quickly.
I guess the builders knew this, because once you go through the entrance double doors, all you a have to do is continue walking across the hall, and you'll walk right into the men's restroom.
So, Husband proceeds to go in. There's a rather large teen age boy at the sink. Husband goes into a stall. The boy, being an obedient son, did just what his mama said to do when you leave a room: He turned out the lights.
Now, as you probably already know, this left Husband in the dark. And I ain't talking about the kind of dark when the stars and the moon are out. I'm talking about the can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face-dark.
"What did you do?" I asked, suddenly horrified for him.
"I used the Braille method."
As he felt his way out the door, he began to plot what he was going to do to that young man, but alas, the boy was long gone.
Husband proceeded to climb the stairs to the second floor. There he decided to go into the men's room and wash his hands, since he hadn't bothered with doing that on the first floor.
Upon opening the door, a lunging, snarling, large pit bull dog came for him. The elderly, frail man on the other end of the skinny leash said, "The dog is in service dog training."
Uh-huh. For what? A used car lot after hours?
Husband swiftly let the door close, and proceeded to the waiting room, where he was taken back to see the doctor right away.
"I'm a little concerned about your blood pressure," says the good doctor. "It's a little high."
"I should have had a stroke or a heart attack!" Husband exclaims. He then tells the physician what he'd just been through.
The doctor claims, in that case, Husband is a fine specimen and sends him on his way.
As I've said before, you can't make this kind of stuff up.
And as stories go, I think it's a pretty good true one.
Some time back, Husband had his yearly doctor appointment for the dreaded physical.
You know what I mean: what might they find this time? As we get older, it seems the staff are rubbing their hands together with glee, anticipating the new diagnosis.
He'd had a 45 minute road trip, and being a male of a certain age, wanted to find a bathroom quickly.
I guess the builders knew this, because once you go through the entrance double doors, all you a have to do is continue walking across the hall, and you'll walk right into the men's restroom.
So, Husband proceeds to go in. There's a rather large teen age boy at the sink. Husband goes into a stall. The boy, being an obedient son, did just what his mama said to do when you leave a room: He turned out the lights.
Now, as you probably already know, this left Husband in the dark. And I ain't talking about the kind of dark when the stars and the moon are out. I'm talking about the can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face-dark.
"What did you do?" I asked, suddenly horrified for him.
"I used the Braille method."
As he felt his way out the door, he began to plot what he was going to do to that young man, but alas, the boy was long gone.
Husband proceeded to climb the stairs to the second floor. There he decided to go into the men's room and wash his hands, since he hadn't bothered with doing that on the first floor.
Upon opening the door, a lunging, snarling, large pit bull dog came for him. The elderly, frail man on the other end of the skinny leash said, "The dog is in service dog training."
Uh-huh. For what? A used car lot after hours?
Husband swiftly let the door close, and proceeded to the waiting room, where he was taken back to see the doctor right away.
"I'm a little concerned about your blood pressure," says the good doctor. "It's a little high."
"I should have had a stroke or a heart attack!" Husband exclaims. He then tells the physician what he'd just been through.
The doctor claims, in that case, Husband is a fine specimen and sends him on his way.
As I've said before, you can't make this kind of stuff up.
Tuesday, March 12, 2019
Take That!
In Genesis 50:20 it says, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good."
Indeed.
Last week some dirty rotten, no good, low down, rat fink hacked my e-mail account. They told all my e-mail contacts that I needed help, and would they please respond back to that e-mail? (They were phishing for money.)Well, I don't know how many actually did, and I hope no one took the bait, but many e-mailed me back. What did I need? I got at least a dozen phone calls from worried friends and acquaintances and business acquaintances asking me what was wrong and what did I need? I got Facebook messages from all sorts of friends wanting to know how could they help? All these people (even a customer service rep. from a company I do business with) wanted to know what they could do.
Of course, many people recognized it for what it was because of the somewhat stilted use of the language. But maybe others thought I was just embarrassed to have to ask for help.
Do I deserve that amount of kindness? I don't know.
Anyway, I am really, truly touched.
I guess I would expect close friends to respond. But folks I hadn't seen since high school, folks I haven't worked with in over fifteen years, much less customer service folks, well, I was surprised at the response.
Well, more than surprised.
Thankful.
Yeah, that's the word.
Indeed.
Last week some dirty rotten, no good, low down, rat fink hacked my e-mail account. They told all my e-mail contacts that I needed help, and would they please respond back to that e-mail? (They were phishing for money.)Well, I don't know how many actually did, and I hope no one took the bait, but many e-mailed me back. What did I need? I got at least a dozen phone calls from worried friends and acquaintances and business acquaintances asking me what was wrong and what did I need? I got Facebook messages from all sorts of friends wanting to know how could they help? All these people (even a customer service rep. from a company I do business with) wanted to know what they could do.
Of course, many people recognized it for what it was because of the somewhat stilted use of the language. But maybe others thought I was just embarrassed to have to ask for help.
Do I deserve that amount of kindness? I don't know.
Anyway, I am really, truly touched.
I guess I would expect close friends to respond. But folks I hadn't seen since high school, folks I haven't worked with in over fifteen years, much less customer service folks, well, I was surprised at the response.
Well, more than surprised.
Thankful.
Yeah, that's the word.
Friday, March 1, 2019
Just Another Day
You know how you start your day with optimism and hope? And then you get a kidney stone.
Or your back goes out and won't come home.
Or your water suddenly takes on the color of the creek after a horrible storm.
Ah, yes. I believe I may have mentioned some of that before.
So, here's a new one: Last night the cats were staring at the food dish with suspicion. For good reason, too. It was swarming with tiny black ants. Kill, kill, kill.
Husband said he would get out the stuff we use every year and put around the side of the window and counter where they come in despite us sealing it with everything including and up to Bazooka bubble gum.
But did he? Noooo. He said it was because he didn't want to smell it all night, and I really don't blame him.
It is natural, so it doesn't smell like chemicals (think Raid!). It smells like - well, imagine you go into your local health food store and they have lit every candle, every incense stick, opened every essential oil and turned the fan on - that's what it smells like.
This morning, when I opened the dishwasher, hundreds were inside it. GROSS.
Kill, kill, kill.
And have I mentioned we have not had a snow yet? I mean, I ain't asking for much. Just one snow.
Rant over.
For now.
Or your back goes out and won't come home.
Or your water suddenly takes on the color of the creek after a horrible storm.
Ah, yes. I believe I may have mentioned some of that before.
So, here's a new one: Last night the cats were staring at the food dish with suspicion. For good reason, too. It was swarming with tiny black ants. Kill, kill, kill.
Husband said he would get out the stuff we use every year and put around the side of the window and counter where they come in despite us sealing it with everything including and up to Bazooka bubble gum.
But did he? Noooo. He said it was because he didn't want to smell it all night, and I really don't blame him.
It is natural, so it doesn't smell like chemicals (think Raid!). It smells like - well, imagine you go into your local health food store and they have lit every candle, every incense stick, opened every essential oil and turned the fan on - that's what it smells like.
This morning, when I opened the dishwasher, hundreds were inside it. GROSS.
Kill, kill, kill.
And have I mentioned we have not had a snow yet? I mean, I ain't asking for much. Just one snow.
Rant over.
For now.
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