An end of something grand

Besides sun, warmth, sand and Disney World, one of the greatest things about living in Florida is the chance to see the space shuttle orbiting toward space.  Before I moved here I had visited the Kennedy Space Center three times.  I had taken the tourist bus, back when they did that sort of thing, out to the launchpad and had seen a space shuttle on the pad.  My mother is a big space nut, and she always had us watching the shuttle leave the earth.  So when I moved to Florida it was a joy to be able to be even closer to something I grew up with, but only viewed from afar.

It was long before I learned to turn on the TV for the launch and then run outside so that I could see the shuttle as it passed over our area on its way into space.  It wasn't always visible, and I wasn't always looking in the right direction (being a little challenged in that area), but I've seen the shuttle plenty of times as it passed over my neighborhood.  I soon was one of those Floridians who was nonchalant when the boom hit and tourists scattered, their mouths in "o" formations, some of them thinking an earthquake was happening as items on shelves teetered.  "Oh, that," I would say.  "That's the space shuttle coming home."

In June 2002 we were in Disney World for one of Tom's conventions.  It happened to be when the Endeavor was launching.  I was in my hotel room with the girls, and Tom called to tell us it was about to happen.  We went outside on our balcony.  Everyone was outside, but the people in my area all happened to be from foreign countries.  I think the room next to us was from France, and several along the balcony were Canadian.  I had the TV on in my room, the door propped open, and I kept going back and forth, back and forth, as the countdown began.  I had seen the shuttle from my own house, a small, alien thing flying toward space, and so I didn't really expect anything different, despite my closer proximity.  I was wrong.

We stood outside and listened to the launch.  Somewhere America the Beautiful  was playing in the background, and then, suddenly there she was; Endeavor, so close that I could read all the wording on its side.  I saw United States, Endeavor, and all the flags that decorated it.  It was so close that I felt like I could reach out and touch it.  I could see it and the rockets.  It rolled, and we watched as it went higher and higher and higher into the sky.  Everyone was breathless as it roared past and the sound was amazingly loud.  It disappeared into the clouds and everyone began talking at once, in another language.  I stood on the balcony, tears streaming down my cheeks, and the woman next to me said in English, "That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen.  That was extraordinary.  You must be so proud."  And I said, "I am very proud to be an American at this moment."

Today I watched Atlantis blast into the skies, the end of the space shuttle program.  I should have driven over there.  I never did, in all the years I lived in Florida, and of course, now I'm regretting it.  We always think things will last longer than they do.  I made my kids watched.  I reminded my mother it was happening.  Unfortunately, on our side of the coast it was pouring down rain, and the sky was full of clouds so that seeing it pass over my driveway was not in the cards.  I watched it instead standing in front of the TV with tears streaming down my cheeks. 

And once again I felt so blessed and so proud to be an American.  Be safe on your journey Atlantis.  Come home safe.

Plumbing issue #1,024

Yesterday I got up immediately when my alarm sounded at 7:15 AM so that I could get to the gym to meet a friend for a workout.  My friend did not show up, but that is another story.  I did my workout, alone, and when I got home I cleaned my master bedroom and bathroom.  I stripped the bed and threw the sheets into my washing machine, and while I waited for them to get scrubbed I did my mountain of ironing.

I despise ironing probably more than my yearly gynecology exam.  I usually only do ironing during football season because it gives me something to do with all my nervous energy, but because the shorts I bought for Costa Rica are the wrinkly, look like you slept in them for a week kind I've had to do ironing if I want to be seen in public.  So I turned on my recently discovered Army Wives series on Netflix and began the ironing.  When I was finished, the show was not, so I sat down to finish it and to dry out (I'm a Mason...we sweat...ALOT).  Eventually it ended, and being in my "let's get shit done" mode, I headed to do the laundry.

My laundry facility, which really only consists of a washing machine, a dryer, a rolling, hanging piece of equipment handed down from Kelly, and a laundry sorter contraption, is located in my garage right outside the kitchen door.  Everything but the dryer is on a step platform right outside the kitchen door that leads to the neat, but heavily crammed full of crap one car garage.

I opened the kitchen door and started to step out on to the platform/laundry facility when my brain sort of clicked, and a small alarm went off inside my head with a voice that said quietly, "Houston, we have something not quite right here."  My eyes took in the wet floor mats in front of the equipment, the car cleaning items that usually reside deep down in buckets next to the utility sink but were now floating in water, and the water dripping down the step into and under my car in the garage.  My brain started going through more clicks and the voice grew a little louder, "What? the? hell? is? going? on?"  My eyes went from the garage floor, up the step, and to the washing machine.  I saw water all around the machine, and my eyes then traveled to the utility sink which was filled to the brim with soapy water and slowly trickling over the side.  At that point my brain registered and the voice screamed, "FLOOD!  CLOGGED DRAIN!  HELP!"  And my mouth opened, and I yelled for the girls to batten down the hatches, although I knew it was too late.

I'm an expert when it comes to flooding/clogged drains and so are my girls, but I have to say that this was more water volume then I've seen since Pine Creek Dr.  When I opened the garage door so that I could get my car out of the garage water literally poured out of the garage and ran down the driveway.   It was like I had opened the flood gates, and Madison and I stood there with our mouths open wide.

The girls and I had to first empty the sink by carrying buckets of soapy water from the sink to the yard.  We got the water level down to about an inch.  I took a broom and swept the water off the platform down the step into the garage where I then swept it, along with lint, dirt, cobwebs, and leaves, out into the driveway.  I moved out the washing machine and soaked up the water underneath with towels.  I moved out the bookcase where we store items and soaked up the water under it.  I crawled under the utility sink and cleaned up the water under it.  Madison and I had to carry out plastic containers full of Christmas stuff and junk that we only use sparingly or not at all, but are sure we will one day out of the garage and into the driveway.  I threw out all the wet mats, a box of ceiling tiles that were soaked and crumbled as soon as I lifted one out of the box, and most of the car cleaning equipment just because it looked pitiful. When we finished the job I was drenched in sweat and soapy water, Madison was covered in wet dirt up to her knees, and Elliot was lying underneath our oak tree cleaning his paws like a cat.  But the garage looked cleaner then it has in years.

I stood and stared at the water in the utility sink.  I debated whether or not I should dump liquid plumber down the drain, but then decided to call an expert.  I had Darcy bring me the phone, and I called Tom.  He listened and gave his expert advice.

Tom:  Call the plumber.
Me:  Seriously?  How about I dump liquid plumber down it?
Tom:  Why?
Me:  Uh, to see if that fixes the problem?
Tom:  Did you try plunging it with the plunger?
Me:  No, but I can.

I had Darcy bring me the plunger, and I went to work pushing it down and up and down and up, all while holding the telephone between my ear and shoulder and giving a running commentary.

Me:  I'm plunging down and up, down and up.   Nothing is happening so I shall continue.  Down and up, down and up.  I'm plunging and plunging and plunging.  Now I've stopped.  The water is swirling, but that is because I was plunging not because it worked and the drain is pulling the water down.
Tom:  Call the plumber.
Me:  Seriously?  Maybe I can crawl under and take apart the pipes.
Tom:  Why?
Me:  To see if its something simple like a hair barrette or something that Darcy left in her pocket and stopped up the pipe.
Tom:  It isn't right there in the pipes under the sink.  It's going to be farther down in the pipe leading to the ground.  It's a huge pipe.
Me:  Well, the kitchen sink is working and when this has happened in the past the kitchen sink is stopped up too.
Tom:  So?
Me:  So...so...well, I'm just saying
Tom:  What?
Me:  That the kitchen sink isn't stopped up.  It's working fine.  I'm running water in it now and it is draining quite nicely.
Tom:  Call the plumber.

I gave up and called the plumber who could not get out to my house until the next day between 9 and 12.  I then called another expert.  I called my mother.  She of the many floods, clogged drains, and broken equipment pipes on Pine Creek Dr.  She had no advice, but offered plenty of sympathy, and so we spent an hour reminiscing on our flood days back on the homestead.

Eventually my neighbor knocked on the door and told me it was time to meet next door for our chats.  I joined the men and explained why I looked the way I looked.  They scoffed at calling a plumber and asked if I had used liquid plumber.  I said no, Tom didn't want me to do that.  My next door neighbor, Chuck, got up and taking a container of liquid plumber, disappeared into my garage.  He returned and we chewed the fat for several minutes while the deadly stuff worked.  In the middle of one of my stories, Chuck got up and disappeared again into my garage.  When he returned he said the liquid plumber hadn't done any good.  He suggested the other neighbor, Sid, get his snake.  So he went across the street and then we all trooped next door into my garage.

Sid climbed under the utility sink and took off the pipe at a joint.  He put a bucket under it and drained out the inch of water + the liquid plumber.  He stood up and Chuck crawled under the sink and began sticking the snake through the pipe into our wall.  By this point we were all sweating buckets on my clean, dry floor, and mosquitoes had discovered the water and were flying around us.  While Chuck kept feeding in the snake Sid and I jumped around swatting mosquitoes and whining.  Pretty soon the entire snake had gone into the pipe so Chuck removed it, stuck it in again, removed it, put the pipe back together, and Sid turned on the water.  I stood and watched as the sink filled with an inch of water, and then suggested we turn it off.

Me:  Guess that's why Tom said to call a plumber.

The men admitted defeat, packed up their tools, and left.  I carried the contaminated water down to the curb and dumped it into the street.  I hosed off my laundry baskets and moved back all the now dry containers into the garage.  I closed the garage and went inside to shower.

This morning my alarm went off at 8:30 AM, and I immediately jumped out of bed and got dressed because knowing my luck the plumber would show if I stayed in bed.  I was right.  He showed at 8:47 AM.  It was the same kid guy who had pulled out the tampon the month before during my clogged toilet/shower day.  This time I got his name.  He had an apprentice with him today, but he was still cracking bad jokes.

Plumber Ryan:  Hey, remember me?
Me:  Yes, you were just here a month ago.
Plumber Ryan:  (turning to apprentice)  She's a huge Patriots fan, man.

The two plumbers looked into my sink which was free of water.  Plumber Ryan turned on the faucets and waited until it clogged, and then he sent Apprentice Manny up on the roof with the snake.  He and I stayed and swatted mosquitoes while we waited for the water to drain.

Plumber Ryan:  Something is clogging it.
Me:  I'm 99.9% sure it isn't a tampon.

After 70 feet of snake and another $147.50 the water suddenly drained.  I had Plumber Ryan check my toilets just to be sure.  He flushed both of them, pointed to my flushable wipes, and asked me if we still used those.  I assured him I had switched toilet tissue brands to the one he told me, we did not use flushable wipes any more, and we did not flush tampons.  He declared me good in plumbing on this side of the house, and I thanked the two men and signed the bill.  Ryan took my $10 off coupon, wrote down  my check number, and then handed back the coupon.

Ryan:  You might as well keep this.
Me:  Thanks.  See you next month.

Skype chat with my niece

9:40 PM - Sunday evening

Gabby:  Hi!!!
Me:  Hi
Gabby:  U got a Skype, i see..  What are you doing?  Hello?
Me:  I'm watching TV and I have had skype, but never used it
Gabby:  Ahhh...I see...Is Darcy there at the house??
Me:  Darcy is being held by Kelly at Chilis for ransom, but I can't afford to pay it
Gabby:  ?the truth?
Me:  Even at 50% off (we couldn't pay) so Kelly said we could have her back
Gabby:  Hahaha..No seriously.  :)
Me:  I'm serious.
Gabby:  Uh huh.  Sureee
Me:  She is with Kelly at Chilis
Gabby:  Oh.  Is that her payment for cleaning Kelly's house?
Me:  She sent us a picture and the ransom note.  I guess.
Gabby:  Haha..That Kelly!  :D
Me:  Yep, she is hilarious!
Gabby:  Haha.  No wonder why you make such good friends.  You are both alike :)
Me:  Ha ha
Gabby:  So, would you happen to know a time when Darcy gets back?
Me:  No since we couldn't pay the ransom we don't know when she will be back, but I'll tell her u r looking for her.
Gabby:  Ok.  Thank you.  Just out of curiosity, how much WAS the ransom?
Me:  One million dollar$!!
Gabby:  Yikes!....I might have a little money...to put in...I would like my cousin back...Hmmm
Me:  Thanks but Toms says we just can't swing it even with your help.
Gabby:  Hmmm..
Me:  Then Kelly said she was willing to go 50% off
Gabby:  Sooo?
Me:  Tom said no.  And then Kelly sent a picture of Darcy.  I'll show you.  Maybe.  I don't know how to do that.
Gabby:  Oh.  What was Darcy doing in the picture?  Are you on your Ipad???
Me:  Yes
Gabby:  Then you can just push the share button on the top and choose file.  Then u can choose your pics then push send.
Me:  Hmmmmm
Gabby:  Here, I will do it.
Gabby has sent file "cuteeeeee.jpg"
Gabby:  See..?  Now you have 2 accept the file
Me:  How?
Gabby:  Uhhh, it should say under the loading bar
Me:  Hmmmmm...Maddy says it won't work
Gabby:  Oh.
Me:  I have to do it on my computer.
Gabby:  Awe...poo
Me:  I'll text the picture
Gabby:  kk but my phone is dead but go ahead anyway
Me:  Ok, I sent it
Gabby Ya!  I will check my phone.  I will plug it in!!!  SO SERIOUSLY...U don't know when YOUR daughter is going 2 be home?
Me:  Nope
Gabby:  WOW!  What kind of a mother ARE you?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Me:  The kind that shares my cute daughter with a good friend.
Gabby:  Ah.  AS my friends hear, but can not seem to say, Tushaay
Me:  Touche
Gabby:  cool. 8-l  Well, please notify your daughter that I would like for her 2 get on Skype whenevr she returns home...
Me:  Ok  will do
Gabby:  Good-bye Mrs. Boos
Me:  Back at ya
Gabby:  Uh...
Me:  Miss Mason
Gabby:  O...k...Byee
Me:  Bye
Gabby:  (wave)

Yearly breakfast at Wimbledon

I have written before about my love for watching tennis grand slams.  By far, my most favorite is Wimbledon.  I would give most anything to sit in center court and watch it live, preferably a match with my honey bunny favorite player, Roger Federer.  Unfortunately, he wasn't in the finals this year so I decided I would root for Rafael Nadal; the first time I have done so ever.  That didn't go well, I might add, however, below are some of the thoughts I had while watching the men's final and the men's double finals; highly skillful sports thoughts....

1. Wow!  Look at the muscles in Rafa's arms and legs.  How come my legs don't look like that?  Well, obviously one has to play tennis daily to get those muscles so that would be the reason why my legs don't look like Nadal's.  Well, that and I'm female.  And Novak's legs and arms aren't shabby either.  Whew!
2. Novak Djokovic must practice tennis outdoors in the sun because his tan is amazing.  Nadal either practices indoors or lathers up on the sunscreen.
3. I much prefer the longer hair on Nadal then the bush that resides on Djokovic's head.  I think that is what first drew me to Roger Federer and Andre Agassi, that long hair.  But I love the shorter look on Roger and the bald look on Agassi now, but seriously what is that hair on Djokovic?  Not working for him.  I bet it feels really spiky if you touched it, and trust me, I would not want to even get that close.
4. I love the seriousness of the ball girls and boys at Wimbledon.  They stand so straight with perfect posture that their parents probably yell at them about the rest of the year.  Look at them standing there with their arms spread out to the side, palms up.  And when they throw the ball with that perfectly straight arm, high in the air?  Kills me.  And how would you like the job of holding the sweaty towel that the the players use to wipe their bodies and face?  Ugh.  That thing has got to smell.
5. Whoa!  Who is the black haired beauty in Nadal's box?  She is a knockout!
6. Rafa has seriously got to have someone talk to him about his ritual.  Each time before he serves or receives he pulls his underwear out of his crotch and then puts his hair behind one ear and then the other.  John McEnroe has got to get him a complimentary pair of his new Bjorg "heart" McEnroe underwear.
7. Novak's ritual is making me bonkers.  He bounces the ball and bounces the ball and bounces the ball over and over and over.  I've counted 25 times as the longest.  Wonder if that makes his opponent nuts?  It would me.
8. Okay, it is exciting I guess that there is another men's tennis player that can beat Federer and Nadal, but his eyes are too close together and he needs to have someone unbutton that top button on his tennis shirt.  Relax, buddy, you're a champ now.
9. He does have a sense of humor.  I loved when he took the microphone that wasn't working and banged it in his hand like he was adjusting his TV.  Must have some sense of humor despite the hair and button up tennis shirt.
10. And I like his parents all weepy and excited in the box.  Nice looking Dad.  Oh, there is his little brother.  Whoa!  Now he got some of Dad's looks.  What a little heart breaker he is going to be.
11. And speaking of the microphone...what was up with the poor sound system?  Unusual at Wimbledon.  The British aren't going to be happy about that!  Kudos to the interviewer who ended up using both microphones; the one that worked so the crowd could hear and the one that worked for the television audience.
12. Lord, I love Johnny Mac!  He is by far the best in tennis off and on the court.  Love when he is calling the match and interviewing at the end.
13. Those Bryan boys are smokin' hot!  And who doesn't love the chest bumps?  I might have to start paying closer attention to doubles.
14. Nice piece by Mary Carillo on the 50th anniversary of Billie Jean King at Wimbledon.  Well done.  Brought back lots of memories.  Also enjoyed the live interview.  She looks great, but did Mary just say that King hasn't warmed up to Roger Federer?  Hmmmmm......

Hello? I see you!

My father was a salesman my whole life.  He traveled each week and was usually gone overnight anywhere from two to three nights a week.  Each night he would call.  This was back in the day when we had rotary phones, no answering machines, and no caller ID.  Yet, we always knew it would be Dad on the other end of the line when we picked up as he always called in the early evening.

Me:  "Masons!"

Dad:  "Well, hello there."

Me:  "Hi Dad!"

Dad:  "Hi yourself.  You're looking good."

Me:  "How do you know, you can't see me."

Dad:  "I certainly can."

Me:  "No, you can't.  There is no such thing as a phone where you can see people while you talk."

Dad:  "I see you and you are looking good."

Me:  "If you can see me, what am I wearing."

Dad:  "Clothes."

And the conversation would continue until one of us got tired of it.  It never differed for the most part.  He always said I was looking good, and I always said he couldn't see me because there was no such device.
Unfortunately, my father passed away before that device actually came into play in my life.

We now have phones with face-time.  Call up someone with face-time capacity and there they are while you speak to him.  He can see you.  You can see him.  Our computers have the ability to dial up someone on an application called Skype.  There she is on your computer.  There you are on her computer.  My Ipad can do the same thing.  I can see my mother and she can see me on her Ipad.

Darcy and her cousin, Gabby, in Indiana call each other daily on Skype.  Darcy sits her laptop on the floor and Gabby sits her laptop on her floor and the two of them PLAY BARBIES TOGETHER!  Right there via their computers!  The other night we had Gabby on Skype and she joined five of us and we all played the game Password.  She sat on Darcy's lap.  It was very surreal for us older folks.

And all I could think was that my Dad saw this coming way back when.

6 month resolution check 2011

It is time to check in on how well I'm doing on my New Year's Resolutions.  I score from 1-10 with 10 being the perfect score.  My goal this year is to actually make all of these things happen.  To achieve that perfect score (at least once)!

1. To not text while driving -I do not text while I am driving.  I am cruising on this resolution.  The only problem...the only itsy, bitsy problem...is that I talk on the phone, work on my phone, and play on my phone while driving.  Now technically that isn't texting, but I'm starting to feel guilty over it all.  I shouldn't be doing ANYTHING with my phone.  I mean, seriously, its not like I drive miles and miles.  All those phone things can wait.  I promise to work on this, but in the meantime the texting thing I've got down. Score: 10
2. To get some form of exercise daily (10 minutes at least) whether it is walking the dog or performing jumping jacks. - Ok, this hasn't happened.  The only exercise I've gotten this week has been the exercises for my back, and those don't count.  Sigh.  Score: 0
3. To finish my slide project and to get important photos on CD's to have for...prosperity? - I have done well with this one too.  I've completed several little gift projects for people.  I've gone through my printed photos and scanned some.  I'm done with the slides.  I'm rockin' here! Score: 10
4. To continue to work on toning down the potty mouth. - I think I've done better since the girls have been out of school, but just to make sure of that I asked Darcy.  She gave me this: Score:  5

TOTAL:  25 out of 40  2 points better than last check-in!

Connie Foot Photo #24

Still getting smaller.  Still not healed.  Next Thursday she will get another apligraft.  We mentioned that she had one once, but apparently that was something different, despite the fact that they called it an apligraft back then.  I reminded them that I have photos and documentation, in fact I have a picture of the Foot God sewing on the apligraft, which later fell off, but they weren't interested in my proving them wrong.

Meanwhile Connie is easing slowly back into her medical routine of doctor's visits.  Her dermatologist has mysteriously closed his office and disappeared into the night, and so she is on the case trying to track down his whereabouts. One of his employees was interviewing yesterday at the Foot God's office, and Connie tried interrogating her, but that woman was a tough one, not giving up a thing.  She claimed she knew nothing.  Connie didn't buy it, but she still put in a good word for the woman with the Foot God.  He finds us quite amusing, or either annoying.  It's hard to tell with him.

But Connie did get her shirt.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts

Sometime in the early part of 2010 my lower back began hurting.  I can't really pinpoint the exact time other than I recall using the Stairmaster at the gym and then having miserable pain the next day.  It took several days for the pain to subside and disappear, but it did.  Somewhere between the Stairmaster usage and the beginning of 2010 it started again.  I can remember discussing the problem with my neighbor, who will have been dead now for a year next month.

There were days that the pain made me miserable.  There were days that I had no pain.  During my summer illness of 2010 I mentioned my back pain to every doctor I saw, but since it didn't fit with whatever disease they were thinking about at the time, no one paid any attention to the back pain.  By the end of the year the pain had creeped into the sciatic nerve of my right leg.  I know this time frame because as I was climbing up on the examining table in the gastroenterologist's office, I whined about my pain and asked her if she did massages.  She didn't, but understood my misery.

Slowly the pain worsened and worsened.  If the sciatic nerve bothered me on a day, the back pain didn't.  If the back hurt on one day, the sciatic nerve usually didn't.  I didn't take anything for it.  I whined a lot.  I had the girls give me massages.  I stretched it out, but mostly I reclined daily on my back.  I think I was in a prone position more often then an upright position for the first six months of this year.  My friend, a physical therapist, checked me out and thought it might be my sacrum.  She gave me exercises to do and told me my posture sucked.  Finally, I couldn't take it another minute, and I scheduled an appointment with my family physician.

She listened to me, asked questions, and typed everything up neatly into her computer.  She had me lie down and performed a series of tests, much like the ones my physical therapist friend had done.  My left leg was definitely stronger then my right.  She ordered several x-rays and gave me a prescription for a muscle relaxer.

I went downstairs and had the x-rays done that morning.  The results came in yesterday.  They showed a mild case of degenerative disc disease, which turns out not to be a disease after all.  It is a term used to describe wear and tear on your spinal discs.  The discs are soft and spongy and separate the vertebrae that make up the spine.  These discs act as shock absorbers for the spine.  When degenerative disc disease takes place it is usually in the lower back and the neck.  It is usually caused by age, but a major or minor injury can also be a cause.  Most people have some form of the disease, and some people feel pain and some people don't.

Apparently I am one of those who feels pain.  It is miserable.  I have a pretty high threshold for pain, but this is starting to make me crazy now.  The muscle relaxer knocks me, out and while it provides my kids with entertainment, it doesn't really do much for the sciatic nerve.  The doctor suggested that I take ibuprofen every 4 hours.  She suggested I cut the muscle relaxer in half.  She suggest physical therapy and exercises.  She said if things didn't get better she would give me a steroid.  Other than that?  Have a good life, sorry you hurt.

I'm grateful that it isn't anything major, but seriously?  Why is it that I have these weird ailments that no one can explain, let alone cure?  The ibuprofen seems to help the lower back pain.  I'm doing the exercises and heading back into the gym.  I'm sure dropping twenty pounds would help too, but I'm heading home next month where I plan to eat Donut Bank donuts every four hours along with my meds.  In the meantime, I'm eating lots of fruits, and I bought a bag of carrots at the grocery on Monday.  Perhaps come the new school year, I will have a nice regiment going that will cure me, and then I shall write a medical paper on this disease-that-really-isn't-a-disease.

Or not.

10 things

1.  The dog can't stay indoors while someone is in the pool.  If we try he howls and howls and howls LOUDLY.  Once he is outside he runs around and around the pool barking in a shrill girly voice that his friend's would be embarrassed to hear.  He wants to be splashed so that he can jump up to catch the droplets of water.  Sometimes he just jumps in.  Sometimes he falls.  The first week out this summer he collapsed inside after being poolside with Darcy.  His back paws were bleeding and he was panting as if his life depended on it.  Madison, my aspiring vet, sat by his side for almost two hours administering to his paws, keeping him hydrated, and cooling down his little head.  Turns out he had cut his pad on one of his paws.  I still say he had some heat exhaustion as well, but I don't think my husband mentioned all of this when he took him in to the full-fledged vet to check out his cut.  He is healing nicely, but will not stay indoors while we are out by the pool.

2.  My neighbor is writing a story.  He got the idea from watching television.  He has written many stories in the past and has even had one published.  He has asked me to edit his story, and we play email tags back and forth daily.  Madison showed me how to edit on my Ipad so I take it with me when I get the oil changed and when sitting in the waiting rooms of medical professions.  I've taken to telling people I am an editor. 

3.  Last summer I had the runs.  This summer I have back troubles.  The back troubles started with the runs, but none of the doctors I visited seemed to care.  Some days the lower back would hurt and some days it was fine.  Eventually the fine went away and the pain increased and now it affects the sciatic nerve and pain runs down my right leg almost to the ankle.  My physical therapist friend diagnosed it as my sacrum.  She worked on me one evening and gave me some exercises to do.  I made an appointment with my regular doctor to see what the heck is going on.  I don't take anything for it and was picturing my doctor asking me that very question and then wondering why I hadn't tried ibuprofen.  Today, because of some inflammation in my gum, my dentist told me to take ibuprofen and my back pain lessened.  I've decided I'll pop them all week just so I can see if it continues to lessen and so I can tell my doctor I've tried it.

4.  I am hooked on solitaire on my Ipad.  It is so easy to play when watching television and it keeps me from eating.  If only it weren't so solitary, and I could challenge someone.

5.  In less then two years my oldest could be behind the wheel of a vehicle.  How did she get out of that stroller I use to put her in?

6.  I'm not a bikini wearer.  I think I had one once that I only used to tan in my backyard behind the red fence.  I have never put my daughters in one.  I use the excuse that they are redheads and that would be just that much more needing sunscreen.  My girls were born in Florida.  Most Floridians, regardless of weight and beauty, wear a bikini to the beach.  All of their friends own bikinis.  My youngest craved one.  I finally broke down and allowed it, but only in the backyard pool.  I have to say she looks amazing in one.  All the more for keeping her in the backyard.

7. Had x-rays taken of my back and hips.  I'm waiting for the results and chewing my nails.  Why can't doctor's offices just put you out of your misery and call already?  Or better yet have me come in to discuss the results.  My brain is imagining all sorts of horrible ailments.  No wonder my dentist thinks I'm under stress.

8.  Why is it that as soon as I learn a program on a website it changes?  First yahoo mail changed and now blogger has reinvented itself.  I'm not a big fan of this new change and the wide area I have for typing.  On my Ipad the words are about the size of an ant.  Madison tells me I can enlarge it as you can do on the Iphone and Ipad, but then I can't see the whole paragraph only four or five words at a time.  Do they just have someone on staff that just comes up with changes?  Someone who looks at a calendar or watch and says, "Yep, everyone should be comfortable now, let's change it up and f**k with their minds!"  I want that job!

9.  If there is a football season, I am going to see a Steelers home game!  Tickets went on sale Saturday for the little amount of individual tickets available, and I got four of them.  I was a nervous wreck, and felt like I was in some competition with other people sitting at their computers waiting for the 10:00 AM on sale time.  I had two browsers opened, which turned out to be a no-no, and I kicked out of the system the first time.  Eventually I got back in it and scored my tickets.  Now we just need a season!

10.  Nine of my TV shows were cancelled this year.  I'm wondering if the networks are just plain stupid.  Why would I want to embrace the new season of shows when they can't seem to hang on to the once they had?  What motivation do I have for getting hooked on a new show?  The chances of it lasting are nil.  Four of the nine that were cancelled were new shows this year.  Not a good track record.  And people wonder why reality TV is such a hit? 

Down memory "farm" lane

On Friday I read a response I had gotten on my post about the Mason Farm.  It was from my former neighbor and close childhood friend who was telling about a memory she had about going to the farm.  It got me thinking of more of my childhood memories, and I thought, "Wouldn't that give me material to blog about make a nice weekly entry?  So along the lines of my farm photos, here are some farm memories of my childhood:

1.  Starting with the one my friend remembers - We took her two brothers to the farm first and then it was her turn to come along on the farm adventure.  The only thing I really remember about her time there was the three of us, her, my brother, and myself, were wandering around.  I remember it being at my Aunt's house down the road from the farm, but that memory could be from something else.  I remember standing at the window well that led into her basement.  There was electric wire around the well, and we dared her to touch it.  Apparently, my brother and I were experts in electrical wires, and we told her it was just a small shock and that she needed to experience it.  We meant for her to put out her pointer finger and touch it quickly, but instead she reached out her entire hand and grabbed the wire with it.  Of course it shocked the hell out of her, and my brother and I started yelling for her to let go.  When she didn't, my brother grabbed her and he too started getting shocked.  We kept screaming for her to let go, and sure enough I grabbed my brother to help, and all of us got shocked.  She eventually let go and we collapsed on the ground yelling at her.  Then, of course, we started laughing and laughing.  It made for a great story when we got home, and I think we added some more electricity and burn marks on our bodies to the story....

2.  We use to play in the hayloft in the barn all the time back when we were kids.  You had to climb this rickety, old ladder to get to the loft and the last rung was higher then the top of the loft so that to you had to be agile and lift your leg high to the right to climb into the loft.  I use to be afraid to do it, especially with all my cousins watching.  I was afraid of heights so climbing the ladder itself was quite a feat for me.  Once I made it into the loft I never wanted to go down again, sure that I would fall to my death.  The loft always was full of hay bales that we would play with.  We played hide n'seek among them or we moved them around and built forts or houses.  There was a basketball hoop up there too, hello, it is Indiana, and we spent many hours playing hoops and having tournaments.  I also spent a lot of time worrying that the floor would give out and send us falling to our deaths or into one of the animal stalls where the animal would tramp us to death or eat us, cows being huge carnivores. There was a hole in the middle of the hayloft for dropping bales of hay down to the animals, so I worried about falling down the hole too.  I never wanted to go up there, but also couldn't stay away because once you were up there it was the best playhouse ever.

Entry to the loft 

3.  When I took my husband, at the time my boyfriend, to the farm for the weekend we climbed into the hayloft so that I could show him it and to kick his ass in basketball.  After I did that he started wandering around exploring while I stood still and lamented how we might just fall to our deaths if the floor gave out while he was wandering into territory that hadn't been explored in years.  He came to the sliding door that was used to haul the bales of hay up into the barn by a pulley.  It faces the front of the house, and being curious, he slid the door open and it came right off its track and one side of the door hung loosely on its hinges.  He was horrified.  I was laughing.  It took us some time to fix the door, but we did.

4.  That same visit with my then boyfriend we spent Sunday morning relaxing and "cough" exercising in the bedroom.  While we lay talking and spent after exercising we heard a car pull up into the gravel drive.  I hopped out of bed and went to the door to see who in the world was paying us a visit.  Turns out it was my parents on their way to some golf course.  My dad was eager to see how Tom liked the farm.  I shouted, "Oh My God, it's my Dad!" and Tom jumped out of bed and was dressed in three seconds flat.  He was sure my Dad would find us au naturel, and that he would shoot him on the spot for taking advantage of his thirty something spinster daughter. To this day he still sweats just thinking about it, and we laugh and laugh.

5.  When I was a kid and my grandparents still lived and worked on the farm there was a chicken house right outside their bedroom door.  We use to collect the eggs and hide behind the house when playing hide n'seek.  There wasn't any air in the farmhouse so the door leading out to the chickens was always opened and the smell of chickens and all their squawking came through the screen door into the bedroom.

6.  We took lots of friends to the farm.  When I took my friend Robin she just wanted to ride horses, but by that time the only horse that lived there was my cousin's horse, Big Red.  I was not a horse person, but she spent most of her time on his back riding him all around the barnyard despite the cold weather.  She also fished for the first time and caught her first fish there at the pond.  My father was quite proud of that.

7.  I also took my friend Kelly and my friend Sharon, who was visiting from Florida, there.  We arrived at night, after having gotten lost on the way there, and we had told ourselves so many spooky stories by the time we reached the farm, that we were all good and scared.  We entered the dark farmhouse and decided we should check each room for safety in case someone might be hiding there.  We armed ourselves with a broom and then in a single file, sort of like the sleuths on Scooby Doo, we moved from room to room.  When we came into the room that had once been the sitting room,then the dining room, and now the living room, Kelly insisted we open the closet door.  We crept up on the door and decided that opening it quickly would be better if someone were hiding in there instead of opening it slowly.  I don't remember who opened the door, but when that person did, all of my Dad's ties that were hanging from a hook inside the door rose in the air and hit us in the face.  We dropped our broom and ran screaming out into the front yard, arms flaying in the air sure we had just been attacked.

8.  I also have vague memories of having to use the outhouse in the winter.  I'm not sure if the bathroom wasn't working, which happened often, but I can remember not wanting to go outside in the smelly outhouse, especially in the dark.  My Dad, who loved scaring people, would stand behind the outhouse door or the outhouse itself and either knock on the side while you were in there doing your business or jump out at you when you exited.

9.  There were always a lot of pigs in the barnyard when my grandparents were living there, along with cows and goats.  My brother and I and whatever cousin happen to be with us would spend one whole day sitting in the wagon with the field corn throwing it into the barnyard for the pigs.  My grandfather just let us do it.  I don't remember him ever telling us not to feed them so much.  My Dad would come out and tell us, but not my grandfather.

10.  At one of the reunions all I wanted to do was take my kids blackberry picking, so my cousin Marc and I took the girls into the woods down toward the second pond, which I never remembered from my childhood,  We found great bushes and picked and picked until our arms were scratched.  Then, mindful of all the chiggers, I made all of us strip down to our suits and go into the pond to clean them off.  I forgot all about the overalls that I had been wearing over my suit, and when I returned to the farm I just threw them into my suitcase.  The next day I put them on and by that night I was covered in the chiggers that were living in my overalls.  I was one miserable woman on that trip.

Connie Foot Photo #23

Foot God:  "How we doing?  That looks nice.  It's looking healthy."

No dermagraft today, just a bandage change.  Nurses continue coming to change it every two days.  Connie wants a timeline, but of course the Foot God won't respond and give her what she wants.  He is vague.

Foot God:  "A month it should be good.  We'll see then."

I think he is as tired of it as we are.

While we were there my neighbor came in and was put down next door to Connie.  Three years ago he had a melanoma on his heel.  It was surgically removed and he had a skin graft taken from his leg.  Now a wart has appeared in the same spot and he has been working with the Foot God to get rid of the stubborn thing.  They tried acid patches, and since that hasn't worked he was there to try some laser treatments.

I wanted to go in with him to experience the whole laser shooting, but the Foot God, doing his best to ignore the fact that I had bounced from Connie's room to my neighbor's room, ignored my request.  While I was back with Connie setting up her next week's appointment my neighbor was taken to another room.  When we went in search of him we found the door closed with a huge sign that said, "DANGER - DO NOT ENTER". 

So we left and went grocery shopping. 

Later when I saw my neighbor to get the whole saga on laser treatments, he told me that Nurse Kelly had given him a T-shirt.  What?  Seriously?  Connie and I haven't been given a T-shirt.  Boy, what until we see her next week...

My neighbor's foot wound

Out of the mouths of my babes

Every time Madison goes out into the sunlight she sneezes; giant sneezes in which she says quite loudly, "ACHOO!". The sunlight does this to her each time she goes outside. Today when we got to my mother's house for the Foot God appointment we exited the car and Madison began her sneezing ritual.

Madison: "ACHOO! ACHOO ! ACHOO, ACHOO!"

I have always been someone that doesn't like to draw attention. As we walked toward the condo with Madison screaming out her sneezes I pictured her doing that in high school. That picture led to me trying not to worry about how she would be perceived. Then I thought about how I never would have sneezed loud enough for one person to hear let alone the entire parking lot in fear of being made fun of. I pictured people making fun of her as she sneezed her gigantic sneezes, and then told myself that was my fear not hers.

Me: "Oh how I wish my daughter could quiet her sneezes so they sounded more like "achoo, achoo. You know more lady-like."

Madison: "BURP!"

I give up.

Slide Photos for the week

Every July we have a family reunion at my paternal grandparents' farm.  In honor of that tradition I am posting slide photos of the Mason family and the Mason farm.

My grandmother and myself in 1966

My grandmother and her son, my father in 1967

 My grandparents, aunts and uncles, my mother and my brother and I in 1968

 Cara & Rusty...farmhands in 1970

My father, his mother, his brother, his father, and his sister in 1970

 My grandparents with Rusty and me in 1972

 Cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents in 1972 

A working farm still in 1972

My grandmother died in 1972.  I have a few memories, but not many.  We continued to visit the farm even after my grandfather moved in with his daughter in her house down the road.  My father died on that farm.  It has been in our family for over 100 years, never owned by another family, and the state of Indiana has recognized it for this very reason.  I'm looking forward to heading back there this summer if only for a short time.

Cutting out boredom

We are having a hard time finding things to do to keep ourselves entertained thus far this summer.  We will eventually travel, but since Connie is still wheelchair bound we can't do as much traveling as we probably would have this summer.  The weather is already setting records even before summer officially began so beaching and swimming it is better left until later in the day.  This week I decided enough.  I would be in charge. 

We had a cleaning day on Monday.  My girls were thrilled (NOT) to say the least.  I then gave them the duty of cooking for the week.  They were to take two nights and prepare our dinner.  Only rules were one vegetable had to be included and the one not doing the cooking had to do the cleaning. They spent some time coming up with meals and a grocery list.  I drove them to the grocery and pushed the cart while they ran around the store in an un-orderly fashion gathering everything needed on the list.  They carried in the grocery bags and unloaded and put the food away.  I was beginning to think I had come up with something grand.

That night was Darcy's turn.  She opted out of cooking as she felt we were all "tired from our day of scrubbing floors on our hands and knees".  She picked up some already prepared fried chicken.  She did heat the oven for some tater tots to bake, and she paired that with a small vegetable tray complete with dipping sauces; ranch dressing and peanut butter.  Dessert was a beautifully prepared plate of various assortments of cookies, and we each got a glass of milk.  Madison cleaned the kitchen that night while I retired to the living room for some television.  I thought I was a genius.

Tonight it was Madison's turn.  We hadn't eaten lunch and on the way back from visiting my mother I suggested she start dinner upon arriving home.  She thought that a fine idea and began preparing her dessert for the evening.  I ate a bowl of cheese puffs to tied me over and went off to do some work on my Ipad.  Eventually my stomach led me into the kitchen to see how things were progressing.  The chef was still working on her dessert which was baking in the oven.  A caesar salad sat in a bowl to the side so I was hopeful.  I made myself a cocktail and went back to my Ipad.

Thirty minutes later I was back in the kitchen.  The dessert, a cake, was out of the oven and there was a nice mess on the stove and the counter.  There was an opened can of frosting sitting near the sink and the caesar salad was still in its bowl to the side.  I grabbed some chips and some dip and thought about another cocktail.  Dinner looked to be far off in the future.  I may have whined about that to the chef.

At 7:30 PM she announced dinner was served.  There was angel hair pasta with meat sauce, a caesar salad, and some rolls.  The table was set with drinks, napkins, and utensils.  And for dessert?  We had this:

After dinner Darcy did the dishes and the clean-up duty.  I helped a bit, but then I retired to the computer.  I KNOW I am a genius now.  I highly recommend this idea.  And secretly?  My kids are enjoying it.

Food Photos

For some reason I have been obsessed with taking pictures of food that I don't usually eat or food that is beautifully presented to me at a restaurant or food that I find interesting.  Behold some of my recent photos:

 Not the best of photos, and really not the best of meals either, although the shrimp was grilled in a spicy seasoning that I enjoyed.  Not really the thing to order when at Frenchy's on Clearwater Beach.

 These were new on Frenchy's menu...fish egg rolls...probably not something I would order after trying them, but they were different.

 A much better selection for Frenchy's...boneless buffalo wings, but I'm done trying something new...the grilled grouper is still the bomb there!

 Uh, babe, we have a pizza cutter.  This is some Kashi frozen pizza he heard about from someone at work.  Not really my cup of tea with pesto sauce instead of red sauce, but then most meals from Kashi don't rate high on my list.

Oh, my but this was one delicious sandwich from Guppy's.  A roast beef sandwich with avocado and jack cheese and happiness.  Of course, I chowed down on it after helping to consume a pitcher of sangria with one other person.

That wasn't her, but she was there and thus a culprit in whatever it is we were doing, which I think was killing time.

Huh?

Since the whole texting craze began I have had to learn the texting abbreviations so necessary in the texting world.  These monikers aren't easy for me to text being an English major and the proud owner of a Liberal Arts degree.  I want to spell out each word and use proper punctuation, but in "getting in touch with technology" as my husband puts it, I have been known to use some abbreviations while texting.  I say "u" for "you" and "r" for "are" because otherwise my kids make fun of me.  I despise "LOL" for some reason that I can't explain so I ignore it when I see it and never use it.  Once in a blue moon I've used "Idk" and "bff" because Darcy use to go around repeating the commercial in which those were heavily favored and so it reminded me of her when I used them.

The other day my friend Kelly left a comment on my blog that used the abbreviation "IMHO".  I read her comment, and then I read it again.  "IMHO"? I thought.  Hmmm...  I read her comment again, and then I read it one more time.  "IMHO"?  WTF is that?  I tried to come up with some scenarios because I can't have Kelly be one up on me (which she usually is, but I pretend otherwise), but I couldn't get past "I am or I mean".  Nothing came to me for the "H" or the "O", and so I gave up on it and filed it away for later questioning of my children.

That night we went to dinner with my friend Cindy, her eleven year old son, and her fourteen-looks-like 21-year old daughter.  We were all chatting about this and that when I suddenly remembered the "IMHO", and so I looked across the table at the beautiful made up fourteen-looks-like-21-year old friend of Madison's and said, "What does "IMHO" mean?"

She leaned forward on the table, batted her mascara eyelashes, and calmly told me, "I...am... a HO!" 

Needless to say it broke us all up.  I explained the situation and paraphrased Kelly's comment, but no one knew what "IMHO" stood for so the fourteen-looks-like-21-year old daughter pulled out her Iphone and looked it up.

It means "In my humble opinion".  AH.  Now I want to know how in the BH did Kelly know that?

Connie Foot Photo #22

Today at the Foot God's office I strolled nonchalantly down the hallway to catch a glimpse of the man who receives the initial dermagraft, but who leaves enough left over to service one or two others; Connie being one of the others.  I turned around at the corner and stood a minute as if assessing something in my mind, and then I nonchalantly strolled back toward room 10 looking in the other rooms as I went by.  For some reason doors are not closed at the podiatrist's office.  I saw a young man to the right.  I saw a middle aged woman to the left.  I saw an older woman to the right, and then as I passed the last door on the left before reaching room 10 and I saw a foot WITH THE EXACT WOUND as Connie's.  It was on a different foot and more in the middle of his foot, but it looked EXACTLY like Connie's wound; same size, same depth.  It was so amazing I entered room 10 with my mouth wide open.  I never did see his face, just his foot.

When the Foot God appeared in the room to attend to Connie the equipment was not out and ready for him so he up and left, informing Nurse Kelly what he needed before returning.  Then he went into another patient's room and closed the door.  Dermagraft Joe, who had followed him into our room with the excess piece of dermagraft, sat down at the end of Connie and took a gander at the wound.  He stayed and chatted with us as we waited for Nurse Kelly to spring into action and his highness to return.  He was in the other room WAY longer then he ever is with Connie, and Dermagraft Joe had to finally go and gently remind him that time was of the essence where the dermagraft was concerned.

The Foot God breezed in, declared it looked "good", sat down and applied the dermagraft to her wound.  He told her she could resume home health to change the outer bandage as it has been P U stinky.  After seeing the other wound, and knowing there was a third person with the same wound (tried to see his wound too, but think he heard me discussing how to stroll past his door, which was at the end of the hall, and I think he hid it from my sight as I only glimpsed one foot with no wound when I went past pretending I was trying on some Dr. Weil's shoes, which they heavily advertise there) I see now why no one in that office gets excited or wound up about Connie's foot wound.  THERE ARE WOUNDS EVERYWHERE.

Judged before getting to know me

Today was a Connie foot day; the day we go to see the Foot God and then head over to her grocery so she can tootle along in their motorized wheelchair. We have the routine down to a science. At the grocery we park in a handicap spot when available, and I walk into the entrance of the store and drive out in the motorized wheelchair so Connie can get into it from the car with minimal standing.

Today we went through the same standard routine, only as I sat down in the motorized chair to turn it on and drive it out to Connie, a tall gentlemen in his early fifties entered the store. He watched me climb on to the chair, gave me a sneer, and said, "That's a great way to lose weight!" Then as I sat there with my mouth open he got a basket and stalked through the second set of double doors into the air-conditioned store.

Now usually these kinds of incidents happen to my friend Kelly not to me. I was flabbergasted and then pissed. Pissed enough to chase him down in the motorized chair and run him over....IN MY HEAD.

"Listen Asshole," I said loudly as I chased him through the bakery department nipping his rear with the basket that sits in the front of the chair. "My weight is of no concern to you, and certainly none of your bleeping business, but I get plenty of exercise carrying my mother's wheelchair up and down 15 stairs and in and out of her car every week. Not to mention all the exercise I get pushing her around in it up and down hills, around curves, and in and out of doctor's offices that aren't really handicap accessible. Before you go spouting out unwanted advice to people maybe you should realize there is more to the story and do us all a favor and keep your damn mouth shut!". Then I smartly turn the chair around and mo-dock it out of the store at its usual speed of three miles an hour.

But this was all said in MY HEAD and what I really said out loud was, "It is if you can't walk." Which of course made no sense, and he didn't hear anyway. Connie and I looked for him so that we could give him a piece of our minds, but she was too interested in the produce and so by the time I spotted him again he was already at the checkout and we were still in frozen foods.

It annoyed me for most of the day, but Connie bought me two bags of miniature Butterfingers (on sale!), I took a two hour nap, and I recovered nicely.  Can't keep this fat girl down!

I have bitten the Apple

I married a tech geek.  He has many talents, but his main talent is that he knows technology upside, inside, over and under.  He loves technology.  He loves techno gadgets, and toys, and things.  The benefit, for me, is that he refuses to buy these techno objects for himself and instead buys them for the girls or for me.  My problem is that I can't just accept these gifts happily; I guess because I feel guilt knowing that he would love to have this instead.

His recent passion has been Apple related toys.  After the nano Ipod came out he handed me a nicely wrapped package while we were watching television.  It wasn't even my birthday or Valentine's Day or anything.  I said happy things like, "What is this?  Why would you buy me a gift?  Why would you buy me an Ipod?  What am I going to do with an Ipod?"  It was black, for the Steelers, and it came with a case and an arm band to wear to the gym.  It took me all of one day to fall in love with it.  I still love that thing.

When the Iphone came out on the market he actually bought one for himself.  He kept apologizing for it, but I was thrilled that he had spent money on a toy for himself.  He played with the thing nightly adding music and movies.  He pulled out that phone every time we got into the van to travel down the street to the grocery.

Tom:  "I'm getting the GPS app so we know the route." 
Me:  "I go to the grocery every week.  I know the route."
Tom:  "Yeah, but this will tell us the fastest way to get there."

It got a little annoying.  Especially since I had no clue how to use the phone and was always terrified when he would hand it to me to look up something while he drove.  I would be stymied on getting it out of the case and then once I had it in hand I just kept saying, "I don't know how to get back to the main screen" until he would take it from me and work it and drive at the same time while I harped about how dangerous an Iphone was.

On my birthday he got me the new 4G Iphone.  I opened it and said happy things like, "An Iphone?  Why would you get me an Iphone?  I like my old phone.  I don't even know how to use this thing.  Does my old phone still work?"  It took me all of an hour to fall in love with it.  Before people couldn't reach me on my cell phone because I never carried it or it was so buried in the bottom of my purse that I never heard it ring.  No more!  The Iphone goes into my pocket first thing in the morning while I take my BP meds because you never know when I might need to look up useful information.  I love that thing.

Before our anniversary rolled around I saw that he was eyeing the new Ipad 2, and I jumped on it saying happy things like, "Don't even think about buying that for me.  If you want an Ipad then get it for yourself.  What would I do with an Ipad?  I have an Iphone.  And a computer with two monitors.  I like my monitors (another techno thing I resisted and ended up loving).  I don't want to carry around another thing and it won't go in my purse.  We are going to Costa Rica so let's not exchange presents for our anniversary.  Let's buy something there for both of us."  It apparently fell on deaf ears.

I opened my anniversary card and it said that an Ipad 2 was on its way with my name engraved.  I rolled my eyes and tried to thank him, but it came out very whiny.  Seriously?  That much money on an anniversary gift?  I hadn't bought him anything because I thought we had agreed.  Sigh.  What was I going to do with an Ipad.

Then my mother's Ipad 2 came in the mail from her sister.  Madison gave lessons to both of us on how to use it.  It took me thirty minutes to fall in love with it.  I came home pumped and excited and ready for my own Ipad to arrive.

Tom:  "I have good news and bad.  Which one do you want first?"
Me:  "Uh, the bad, I guess."
Tom:  "Something went wrong with the credit card and your Ipad isn't coming."
Me:  "What?  What?  I'm not getting the Ipad?  But I want it now!  I want the Ipad!"
Tom:  "Sorry."
Me:  "Well what is the good news?"
Tom:  "The company is shipping you a free Ipad case in apology."
Me:  "There giving me a free case for an Ipad I don't have?  What the hell?"

He explained the whole nonsense over the credit card, and for several days I said happy things like, "Well, I could take notes on what the doctor is telling you, but I don't have an Ipad.  Well, if I had the Ipad I was suppose to get for my anniversary I could jot that information down or look up that information."  Apparently, it was too much for him to take and so he re-ordered me another Ipad.

I've had it now a little over two weeks, and I DON'T KNOW HOW I'VE LIVED WITHOUT IT.  The thing is amazing.  It's like a little mini computer laptop, Iphone, and Ipod all rolled into one.  The free case isn't that great, but it does turn off and on the Ipad automatically when opened or closed.  It doesn't really protect anything but the screen so I guess I'll have to invest in a good case. 

Oh, and a bigger purse because I have to carry this thing with me at all times.  Who knows when I might have to look something up or take notes.

Conversation with a four year old

Ben:  "Hello Aunt Cara."
Me:  "Hi there Ben.  How are you?"
Ben:  "America is on the other side of the world, Aunt Cara.  It is on the orange side."
Me:  "The orange side, huh?"
Ben:  "We have an orange tree in our yard and we pick the oranges.  I like orange juice, but I don't like the pulp.  We have an automatic squeezer.  You plug it in and make the juice.  I make it with my mom.  I like cooking with mom.  She makes the best dinners ever.  I like sandwiches, especially grilled cheese ones.  It has Panera bread and cheese."
Me:  "That sounds delicious.  I hope I can have a grilled cheese sandwich when I visit you."
Ben:  "It has bits of ham in it.  Kids get the grilled cheese sandwiches and adults get soup."
Me:  "But I want a grilled cheese sandwich with ham in it."
Ben:  "Oh.  Well, well, uh, I could share with you maybe."
Me:  "That is so nice, Ben.  You would give me a bite?"
Ben:  "I have a bike.  I have one with training wheels and one without training wheels.  I ride without training wheels!!  My mom teach me to ride.  She loves to teach.  I speed down the hill and nobody can catch me.  Only a truck could catch me.  My dad drives a truck."
Me:  "So if I drove your dad's truck I could catch you right here in America, which is how this conversation started."
Ben:  "We live in the United States of America.  That is the country we live in.  Everybody lives in a country city.  What country city do you live in, Aunt Cara?"
Ben's mother:  "You just better end this now because this conversation will go on and on for hours."
Me:  "And I better stop now while I still know the answers, huh?"

Ha Ha Funny

During the week's festivities and hoopla of the graduation of the 8th graders, a friend flew in town from Canada to celebrate with all of us.  Long story short she moved away a year ago for personal reasons and thus her son was unable to finish up his final year at the school.  A group of us got together and brought them back for a week so that everyone could be together and so that he too could participate as an honorary graduate.

Before they arrived, my friend, whose house the two were staying in, was talking to me about what she had to do to ready her house.  We were discussing all the ins and outs and suddenly it occurred to me that one of the kids would need to move out of his or her room to accommodate the out of town guests.  I asked the obvious question what child, only to be told my friend had a guest room.  Well, I had never seen a guest room in her house before, and so she explained where it was upstairs and how she always had the door closed because the room tended to pick up junk that otherwise would be all over the house.

Later, while going upstairs to retrieve the girls before heading home, my friend led me to the guest room and opened the closed door.  I took one look at the room and the bed...

...looked at my friend, and said, "OH MY GOD!  The Easter Bunny took a dump on your bed!"

We're still laughing about that today.  Who says you lose your humor as you get older?  Ha!

Starting summer off right

It has been a busy week at my house the last month. School is over and summer, as we know it, has begun. I'm wondering how long it will take before I hear the "I'm bored" slogan. A friend of mine suggested we give the kids last week and this week to just chill and do what they want before we start dictating their summer. I agreed to that and was sorry I did by day 2 when Madison slept until 1:00 PM both days.

But a promise is a promise, and I still remember being that age so I'm trying to accommodate them. I enjoy having my kids at home and doing things with them, but I'm already running out of ideas.  Our first real day, we decided it was this Monday, we were recuperating from all the end of school festivities we had from the week before.  We loped around the house sleeping and watching movies on television.  Finally, the next day we came alive and met up with some friends at the beach.

We got there early, around 9:30 in the morning.  It was a beautiful Florida June day with sun and warmth.  We spread out our chairs and our towels, and the girls immediately went into the water.  The adults talked and munched on snacks.  I eventually wandered into the gulf, making sure to do the stingray shuffle, and floated for some time.  When I got out and settled back into my chair we had some dolphin sightings.

There were four dolphins swimming in pairs just inside the buoys.  They were frolicking and having a good time knowing the people in the water and on the beach were pointing and oohing and aahing.  They came up plenty of times to show off and for people to take photos.  I unfortunately was on the beach and did not have the zoom camera with me so my pictures seem to all be of one dolphin out of the water or of nothing but blue water and sky.

But it seemed like a nice way to start off the summer.  Dolphins are good luck so we are all hoping this summer will be a good one!

Connie Foot Photos #20 & #21

Last week's photo was on my IPhone, and for me not as easy to get into the computer as my camera thus the delay in getting it on the blog. Connie had another dermagraft, shared this time by three receiptiants. Because he cut around the wound the week before it hadn't gone down in size, but the depth was filling in quite nicely.

This week the size was smaller and the depth filled in even more. He avoided cutting again and applied another dermagraft. We talked about perhaps doing another skin graft to close the wound and it is still a possibility as time goes on.

 And it does...