a Halloweener

 What was that I heard?  Someone calling for help?

"HELP!"

Yup, there it was again.  And it continued with rhythmic frequency

"HELP!"

"HELP!"

I was in a hallway at work, and to be honest, such pleas are not uncommon.  They can be for anything from, "I dropped my glasses" to "I've fallen and can't get up" and anything in between.

I entered the room and asked the resident if there was something I could do for him.  He was a relatively big man sitting up on his elbows in bed, his eyes a bit wild looking, just recently admitted for rehabilitation of some kind.  I didn't know anything about him or his condition.  

But it was evident that he could sufficiently hear me, and he spoke clearly with no slurred or slowed speech. All in all, at first glance, he seemed in pretty good shape compared to some of the others, until...

"There was a little kid just in here!  He was looking for somebody, and then he took off!  My legs don't work or I would've gone after him!"

Oh, okay.  I made a mental note that the guy wasn't as coherent as I'd first thought.  There were most certainly no little kids running around the facility.  But I played along and asked for a description, so the man would know I took him seriously.

A little boy, about 9 or 10 years old.  He's wearing pajamas and looking for someone named Nick.  He'd entered the room and even listened to the man's chest for a while before running out into the hallway.  

"Okay, thank you, sir.  I'll let others know to be on the lookout.  I'm sure we'll find him and get him in touch with Nick", I responded.

He seemed relieved and relaxed back onto the bed.  I mentioned the episode to his CNA and chalked it up to another day in a care facility.

Pffft, a little boy running around in his PJs.  

In a care facility.

Yeah, right.

I mean, people die here.  

It's no place for kids.

Right?

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Linking up this week with MamaKat for the prompt:
2. Write about something that has pleasantly surprised you.

tasteful sideboob, not

She seemed like a committed and doting wife, maybe a bit on the controlling side.  But I had to admire her attentiveness and appreciate her graciousness toward my coworkers and me.  

I've mentioned the care facility where I work is half long term care (nursing home) and half rehab facility for people who are not bad off enough to be hospitalized but not quite ready for independent living.  That part of the biz is a "halfway house" of sorts.

So we had this man check into the rehab a coupla weeks ago.  I'd guess he's somewhere in his mid-60s?  Unlike the other residents, his wife performs a good deal of his care. I assume she's his primary care giver at home and has been in that role for a while, so she worked something out with the facility and medical team to regularly come in and do things for the husband.  This was instantly notable as "different" since no one is allowed visitors during these COVID times (unless they're dying).

As I said, she's always been nice to us and communicates well with the staff.  Yesterday, a coworker walked passed the guy's room, and wife/nurse is standing in there flashing her boobs.  To her husband, not my coworker... for clarification.

Okay, that was a bit odd.  

• The rooms have doors, and if a door is closed, we will always knock before entering.
• To be in the room, one must don a mask, face shield, gloves, and gown.  Flashing boobs (or anything, really) is not a particularly easy task in that getup.

But hey, more power to 'em.  Just maybe shut the door mkay?

Speaking of rehabilitating, our snow is slowly melting.  I think the final measurement put us at a foot and a half, which is a large dumping, particularly since it's not even November.  We've had clear blue skies ever since, and it's so nice not to be living with all that smoke and ash.

The fires are not out, however, and containment is still only partial.  Just as how the COVID pandemic has been educational regarding viruses and immunity, I've been learning a bit of fire science lately.  In kindergarten fire science terms, trees that have not fully burned during a wildfire can hold heat inside of them and catch fire later on if not cooled down enough.  That's why Smokey Bear tells us to put out our campfires to the point of being completely cool, not just to no longer flaming.

In the meantime, it's been  nice to go outside and be able to comfortably breathe. During the snowstorm on Sunday, I was already feeling the cabin fever, so we gave ourselves a mission other than shoveling to go play outside.

To the ballot box.  Uphill both ways in the snow.

a Sunday rundown

 

We're getting our snow.  Boy, howdy, we're getting our snow.  Magnum and I just finished making a second shoveling pass of the various surfaces.  It's really coming down, but I personally would rather shovel 3 inches of snow four times than shovel a foot of snow once.

I took the dogs out first thing this morning, and they were looking at me like, "Wha happened overnight?"

And there is currently about twice as much snow on the ground as in the pic.  The main happy dance around here is how this helps contain the various wildfires.  No, the snow won't put them out.  In fact, I'm sure plenty of the snow melts and evaporates before it even hits the ground near the fires, but it will certainly help slow the spread.

I was at work yesterday, and one of the cooks got a notification that the East Troublesome fire was approaching the highly popular Estes Park YMCA camp.  We all commiserated our special memories of the place and crossed our fingers that it would be spared.  The camp is the area where we spent the first part of 2016, 'member?

We were there in the wintertime, but it's even more popular during summer months for its access to outdoor recreating in Rocky Mountain National Park.

The fire is also burning up areas we were just at this past August.

As of this morning, the camp has not suffered any fire damage 🤞 

In other silver liningness  news, this felt like a pretty busy and productive week.  As such, I didn't get much inktobering done at all, other than one quickie:




But I'm reminded...

I don't have to do them all.

I don't have to do any of it.

Chaco and Wolfgang stopped over last evening.  Chaco treated us all to Thai takeout as a sort of acknowledgement of a new work position he just started.  Meego was out of town with some friends, so missed out.

I think I've now had 5 Covid tests.  They're not getting any more comfortable, but they remain negative.  I  normally like to stay positive, but in this case,  no.

Better go shovel.

en vogue

Winter's coming.  We're all hoping for a ton o' snow to dump on the fires that are burning up Colorado right now, but we'll take whatever we can get.  But I don't want to whine-blog again about the damn fires.  Nope, gonna go sweep those ashes off my patio and under the rug.

I did happen to come across a "cheat sheet" of sorts - a prepared list of what to gather in case of an evacuation for *some reason or other*  for different advanced warning times:

I've known people who've had to be evacuated, and they speak of grabbing their photo albums.  I thought, well, I'd just grab my computer and my external hard drive because that's where my important documents and photos are.  

But no, we have several photo albums from pre-digital-camera times.  I briefly thought about starting a photo scanning-and-organizing project before thinking, "ugh".  God, that sounds tedious and time consuming. Well, the journey of a thousand miles starts with one step and all that.

So I dug out some old photos wondering how much was really worth salvaging.  Some go way back and are from my parents' collections.  

This morning, I headed out for a run, and it was 25F degrees out.  I had to remember what one wears to run in 25F degrees.  Gotta keep warm, but don't want to be too bulky.  

A good head covering is a cold weather friend, and we certainly want to be fashionable at the same time.  Kate Middleton, for instance, knows what's what→→

My search for a suitable hat reminded me that I was once similarly fashionable.  I do have an interest in fashion, although these days, I dress  more for function.  But back in my heyday, Kate and I could've been two peas in a pod as evidence in an unearthed photo from my recent investigations

The fur hat.  Is it ever out of style?

Answer:  Yes.  Absolutely Yes.

(and we won't speak of the pants)

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Linking  up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
1. Throwback Thursday! Find an old photo and share the backstory!

smoke and mirrors

Greetings from a dreary Sunday morning in my neck of the woods.  I'm actually happy for the drearage because it's brought with it some sort of precipitation.  We've had so little, and there's a raging wildfire knocking on our back door. 

The Cameron Peak fire now holds the spot of the largest wildfire in state history at nearly 200,000 acres and counting.  Whoever's ever sung, "rain, rain... come again another day".  Now would be good!

The university's meme page posted a graphic, but I think most of us are feeling the same vibe, college student or no

SOURCE

We had some really smoky days this week.  If nothing else, it gets people to wear their facemasks all the time.  My bike rides into work left me with annoying particulates in my eyes, tempting me to break out the ski goggles.  Residents at the facility were not allowed to go outside.  Those poor folks are isolated enough as it is and now can't go out for "fresh" air, which includes the popular haircut tent.

I'm remaining positive, though, thinking colder temperatures and more rain will help get a handle on things.  I'm looking forward to being able to hike again on Horsetooth mountain and check out the charred remains and subsequent new growth.

In other news, I managed to have my work schedule adjusted so as to not work every Saturday and Sunday, which is why I'm sitting here now.  Sunday's off, woohoo!  And I managed to get a few more inktobers in although I've missed a couple.  We've passed the halfway point:

The inktobering is cutting in a bit to my blogging time, but I'm still here reading the latest.  Maybe a day or two after the facts, but still here.  

are men more organized than women?

It's amazon prime day, whacha buying?

I went to amazon this morning, looking for a purse/bag/satchel/whatever you call these things.  Shopped around, read some reviews, got some recommendations.  Finally, I ordered one.  

The bag I ultimately selected noted that it was rated a top selection for "murse" (man purse) and is in fact noted a "men's" bag in the description.  It looks very similar to other women's or unisex bags I considered, and actually, many of the reviews I read for it were from women glowing about the bag's positive attributes and noting how "it's great for women too!"

So, what makes it a men's bag?

The most notable difference - the one that sold me on it - is that it allows for wonderful organization:  more useful pockets and compartments, handy places for everything one typically carries around.  

There was a short video on the item page showing what I assume are man hands placing man things - wallet, phone, tablet, keys, pens, earphones - in various handy compartments. Not a tampon or bottle of Midol to be had, no mascara or lipstick, no romance novels. The bag could also easily accommodate these things, but apparently women just throw that stuff in a tote so they can upend the whole thing and sort through a pile when something is needed.

Don't women also carry money, phones, keys, pens, earphones, etc.?  Don't they also appreciate good organization? I do.  Am I doing something wrong?

Oh well, I ordered me a murse

In other news, one of my coworkers is quite crafty and has created a nice little income stream from her unique facemasks.  I'm not sure if she has an Etsy shop, but I remember going to Etsy early in the mask days and not being able to make a choice.  I remember thinking, "I wish I knew someone selling these things"

Wish granted!  Plus, she brings them into work for easy access.  Looky the cute bicycle mask she made for me:

I hadn't requested a bicycle mask specifically.  I knew she offers a variety of designs and told her I'd pick from whatever she had, but she made this thinking I'd like it, which I do!

How nice when sellers clearly consider the customer.  Says the woman who just bought herself a man purse.

nothing disgusting

Today's inktober prompt is "disgusting", and I decided to give myself a break from the inking since (1) a break sounded good, and (2) I couldn't think of anything "disgusting" that I'd want to be engaged with for an hour or so.

I did manage to get through the first 10 prompts in time, so adding to last week's inktober update...

Number 10, "Hope" is a pregnancy test stick of unknown outcome.  I figure "Hope" applies to either result, depending on the testee.

But speaking of "disgusting", there was a time when same sex marriage was considered disgusting.  There are many with that view still today.  But too bad for those people, because it's totally legal in all 50 states.

A longtime good friend of mine got hitched yesterday for the first time at the ripe age of 58.  I'd originally planned to be at the wedding, but COVID threw a small wrench in those plans.  

Undeterred, he married his partner while many of their friends tuned in online.

I'm so happy for them both.  *SNIFF*  Nothing disgusting here.

the dogs ate my shoe, and the cat stole my ring

The title pretty much sums up the last couple of days.  

Our dogs don't typically eat shoes, but never say never.  I came home from work and kicked off my shoes a couple of days ago.  No doubt, the shoes had some enticing-to-dogs smells on them from the kitchen.  A while later, I discovered what looked like the remnants of a shoelace.  Alas, one of the shoes had been violated, but not too seriously.  

Luckily for the dogs, those shoes were about to be thrown out anyways, having served a good life.  Rather than try to revive them, I chucked them.  My wedding band, however...

I'd taken my wedding band off and stuck it in the pocket of my jeans on Tuesday night before bed to slather on some nourishing hand lotion.  The next morning, I couldn't find the band, so went about my day like an unwed woman.  That evening, we looked all around where it HAD to be- near where I'd hung up my jeans - but came up empty.  The cat stole it, it's the only logical explanation. 

Another day went by with no trace of it, but this morning, I slipped on my house shoes, and there it was: inside one of them.  I've put those shoes on the past two days, but only this morning noticed the band inside.  Aha, clearly, the cat felt guilty and put it there.  Or rather, he got bored with the game.

It's been a good week, though.  While at the dentist, the dental assistant and I talked of how we enjoyed "going to" work as opposed to working from home.  Of course there are several factors that weigh in including job description, coworkers, work environment, commute, etc.  

I feel I have the best of both worlds, having a part-time away-from-home gig (with a super short commute) and a part-time from-home gig.  I enjoy them both and don't get burned out on either. 

This week, I was asked to help train a new-hire at the rehab facility.  I take that as a cue that I have moved out of "noob" status myself.  

And finally, the world said good-bye to Eddie Van Halen this week.  I know I wasn't alone in crushing on him (BIGtime) back in the 80s.  He was just so dang talented!

Back then, people often told me I resembled Valerie Bertinelli, so when the two of them got hitched, I found solace in thinking that EVH would favorably spot me in a crowd.  Maybe?

Today should be a full day off for me.  I'll do some housewifery, maybe listen to some fave Van Halen tunes, maybe get some shoes...

touching the void

I'm in therapy.  Physical therapy?  Kinda?

It was almost exactly one year ago that I had that monster tooth removed from my head.  I don't miss it, but I have missed chewing over there.  This morning, I got my "dentures"

This whole mouthpiece for one tooth, but it's the simplest solution.  I love it already.  It needs a name.

So I've been eating a bunch doing therapy to learn to chew over there again.  It's a slow go, and I'm feeling quite full.  Still, I'll continue in the name of progress.

Remember being a teenager with that raging teenage metabolism?  I remember eating large bowls of cereal just before bed, going out with friends for pizza or chili fries after Friday night football games, etc.  All of that in addition to three square meals a day.  If I ate now the way I did in high school, I'd probably weigh around 300 pounds.

The reminisces came up at work over the weekend.  Someone said something about coworker Young Mick, and a cook chimed in, "Ever see his breakfast order??"

We can eat whatever we'd like at work, and are allowed to order one meal per shift from the cooks for our scheduled break.  I know it's already made a noticeable dent in my own grocery bill, and others similarly appreciate the perk.  

Young Mick is 17 years old.  Super nice kid and a very compassionate helper to the old folks.  I'd never particularly taken notice of what he eats, even though we take breaks together, since we're all spread apart while eating these days.  But when the cook mentioned the amount of food he puts away, the rest of us covertly observed yesterday.

A pile of French toast, several slices of bacon, eggs, pastry, OJ... Still hungry, he grabbed a cup of thick yogurt to ceremoniously end the feast.  He managed it all in the time it took me to finish a breakfast sandwich and cup of coffee.  Impressive.  Seemingly not an ounce of fat on that kid.  Ah, to be 17 again.  I'm sure his parents appreciate the supplement, and I hope they have a large pantry.

As I'm learning to chew with my whole mouth again, I managed another Inktober submission for the prompt "Rodent".  What to draw? 

I wonder why that concept came to mind...

staying busy and steering clear

Another week is in the books and I feel like a recap is fitting! 

I'm continuing to enjoy my newish job as I'm still learning the ropes.  As with any job, there's always something to b*tch about, but all in all, I'm liking it.  

One dislike is that I work weekends.  Being bottom of the totem pole sets me up for that, and I know that eventually - soonish - I'll get off the Saturday-Sunday duty.  At least I don't work evenings, so there's that.

Speaking of playtime, I've survived the first four days of Inktober.  I'm glad Inktober is a thing, and I'm glad that Wolfgang essentially holds my butt to the fire every year to participate.  My pens and papers were collecting big dust, and it's been fun so far.  

I'm not optimistic that I will get all 31 prompts in this year, but 4/4 is good enough for now.

Speaking of Wolfgang, we touched base with all three of the brood this week.  Wolfgang recently got a pretty new bicycle via mail order and had it shipped to our house since he lives in an apartment complex.  So he came by to put the pretty bike together.

Chaco stopped by this week for various reasons, one of which being that his dog likes to play with our dogs and vice versa.  For the record, the cat is less than thrilled with these visits.  He also brought ingredients and cooked up a Filipino dish: lechon kawali ,a dish I'd never heard of.  It's crispy fried pork belly.  Just reading that adds 5 pounds.  

Meego also stopped by and filled us in on college during COVID.  He doesn't live in a dorm, so isn't as affected as those who do.  Of course, there are no typical university events going on.  This weekend, for instance is (stay home)coming weekend.  See what they did there?  

Speaking of COVID, I've now been tested three times and have yet to become a statistic - unlike a certain someone...

when a stranger calls

The call came in at about the expected time.  The furnace technician I'd scheduled was on his way and would be at our house in about 15 minutes for an annual check and clean.  There was just one problem with his information:

there was already someone - who'd also said he was from the company I'd scheduled with - rummaging around in our furnacings.  The rummager had shown up about 30 minutes prior.  Who. Was. He. Really?  And just What. Was. He. Doing?

The most logical scenario was that he was an imposter.  He was not here to clean and inspect our furnace and heating system, but to knock us inhabitants out with toxic fumes or use such chemicals so to brainwash us.  There's a pandemic, there's a volatile upcoming election.  Of course he targeted us because of our influence in the community.  He'd obviously hacked into the heating maintenance schedule and usurped the true technician, now en route to our house.

I went to confront the fake technician, to find out who he truly was and who had sent him.  Naturally, he hit me with the noxious gas, and I was of no use to anyone.  I awoke in what felt like a couple of minutes, only to learn that six hours had passed and I had no recollection of what happened.  

Well... not really, of course.  Of course I just let the second guy know that someone was already here.  Scheduler made a mistake?  Then I drew a fish.

But I'm still wondering...

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Linking up this week with MamaKat for the prompt:
2. Write a blog post inspired by the word: fake

back to the drawing board

 Here we go, Inktoberites!  Who's with me??

The first prompt for Inktober 2020 is "fish", so I drew this robot fish.  Or is it a fish robot? Robotic fish? Fishic robot?

Well, whatever.  I heard of devices that are meant to monitor water pollution.  They are designed to swim like fish rather than move like submarines, as fish swimming is much more energy efficient than submarine propulsion.  

As far as I know, they only monitor pollutants and help to create maps of water pollution.  It'd be nice if they cleaned it up, too.  A little?

The activity brought back memories of the cute little robot lawnmower at the hospital job I recently left.  I hope he's doing well.

One down, thirty to go...