the unclean, the broken

I had a teeth-cleaning appointment scheduled for this week, but the dentist's office called over the weekend, saying the hygienist broke her shoulder - no teeth cleaning happening just yet. 

Ouch. How might one break a shoulder? I'm thinking mountain biking mishap? Seems to be a common injury among the partakers and fits the time of year.

Speaking of time of year, we're having us a heat wave. Nothing terrible. Temperatures should get to mid-90s today. I went for a run this morning, and the last couple miles were a struggle in the heat. I maybe should've brought some water, but, ack, such a pain to carry.

As it was, I popped a Nuun® tablet into my water bottle once back home, and I was quickly back among the living. 

Now I'm using the dry heat to my advantage. Those pesky weeds that grow in the driveway cracks? Can't stand 'em. I doused them with white vinegar, which usually makes quick work of the pesky weeds when applied on a hot dry day. I'd rather not do the commercial weed killers. The murder attempt captured by the driveway cam:

Now we wait.

At least I survived the weed spraying. Coworker Sarge called off a couple of days ago -"threw my back out". He made it in yesterday, moving quite gingerly. I asked how he injured himself, thinking maybe he was doing some heroic handyman project.

He was on a bike ride with his kids, and they stopped at a store. He bent over to lock the bikes to the rack and - *ZAP* - down for the count. 

I hope my dental hygienist was at least doing something more adventurous than reaching for a lock when she broke her shoulder.

Thank your husband and electric needles.

"Tell your husband 'Thanks!' for shoveling our sidewalk!", he cheered from his driveway.

"Oh, sure, no problem!", I hailed back

Neighbor Guy next door. I noticed during our recent snow storm(s) that no one seemed to be home for a while over there, so when I was out shoveling, I shoveled their sidewalk as well. Tell your husband - pffft. 

And I did tell Magnum, we chuckled a bit over it. I don't hold it against Neighbor Guy. I guess it's "normal" to assume the resident man handles the shoveling of snow. Neighbor Guy is a rather burly manly man himself who takes care of the outside of the house. I don't know him that well, but he always seems friendly.

And honestly, I rather enjoy shoveling snow. As long as it's not bunches of it, wet and heavy. Magnum does share in the task, but for the most part, especially before he began working from home, it was one of my chief duties. It's only fair since he brings home the Lion's share of our income. 

My coworker, Sarge, is in a similar boat. His wife is the main earner for his family, so he picks up the "house work". Yes, out there clearing the snow, etc. and also doing most of the cooking and shopping, driving the kids around... Equity and Inclusion, we're on it!

I went for a sloggish run this morning. Recall I've been off the running while dealing with a fritzed foot. It's been feeling better, but then I caught a cold, and then we were hit with an arctic blast - neither conducive to start running again.

This week, I had another appointment with the physical therapist, and he somewhat "assigned" me to go for a short run-walk this weekend and report back. Felt pretty good actually, though a bit cold and I had to deal with annoying ice in several places. Plus being out of shape *huff puff*. But the foot held together.

We did the dry needling thing at this last appointment. It felt... interesting. I didn't watch the process at all - first hit was in the outside of my calf while I laid on my back, second was in my lower back/hip while I laid on my stomach, so I didn't exactly have a view of either anyway. 

But he inserted (I think) two needles each time, then added electric stimulation to the needles, so there was this pulsing going on in there - like in [this youtube short] I found. He did that to the areas for about 2 minutes each. 

It felt neither amazing nor painful, but it was a very gentle feeling. Like the cat when he prods me to let him under the covers.

saddle, sorting, and needles

A saddle, in geography, is defined as the lowest area between two peaks. I think of the week between Christmas and New Year as a saddle week. This one's been pretty productive... mostly.

• I've been doing some tidying, which I have since learned is a tradition in some cultures so as to start the new year with a "clean slate". I went through some boxes of stored goods while grumbling under my breath, thinking it was "junk" we've been storing for our kids. I was all ready to unload it upon them, only to find that it was mostly our stuff we never unpacked when we moved here four years ago. Ooops.

So I'm sorting through that, determined to rid us of "stored stuff". If we're gonna use it, it should be out among the living. I did find a few kid things, so my grumbling skills weren't totally a waste.

• Christmas here was a pleasant low-key affair. Meego and Wolfgang came over for food, gaming, dog walking, puzzle building, etc. And we speaker phoned a bit with Chaco, who relocated to the DC area for work not long ago.

Speaking of food and storage, while I was doing some actual cooking for Christmas, I came upon this little cast iron skillet I "won" back in 2020. As I remember it, the nursing home where I was working at the time had daily random drawings for staff to select a gift from a pile o' stuff during the days leading up to Christmas.

My name miraculously came up, and I selected the cute skillet, I think mainly because it was nicely portable for bringing home on my bicycle. It came with a small packet of brownie mix for making one round brownie in the pan. I remember making the brownie on Christmas, and the 5 of us split it into teeny tiny brownies. 

If it'd been a marijuana brownie, I doubt it would've had much affect after divying it up 5 ways. 

The skillet then got stashed with its larger siblings, hardly thought of again. But this week, I saw someone on reddit, who had received such a skillet for Christmas, asking what to use it for. The overwhelming response was "an egg!!"

Omigosh, it's the perfect vessel for making a one-off poached egg. I've been doing that in the days since the discovery while needing to chip away at all this damn leftover Christmas ham.

• Also this week, I visited that physical therapy place about my fritzed foot. They'd offered a special promo, so I partook. But the foot's been feeling better, and I figured I'd listen to the assessment, then likely continue to treat it myself. 

Welp, that didn't happen. The good Dr. uncovered weakness in my right hip - not a total secret to me - as likely the root of my problem and mapped out a good sense plan of attack.  After the initial treatment hurt so good, I'd plunked down the HSA card and paid for six sessions. 

He wants to do some "dry needling" - a term of which I've heard for treating sports injuries, but know nothing. I'm about to access doctor google, but it sounds kind of like acupuncture, which I've never had. I'm going for it.

a break from this break

• We had our little white elephant gift exchange at work  yesterday - ended up just being five of us as Triple-D was sick, and Star and Kitty had other obligations. I was surprisingly content with what I ended up with - a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle, kitchen sponges, and a dental grab bag - HA!

With these work gift exchanges, we try to do them without anyone having to purchase anything. I learned that the jigsaw had been gifted to Party Girl's dad, who has dementia and can do a 60-piece puzzle, tops. I suspect that she did purchase the kitchen sponges - they are new and in the shape of cat faces. The dental grab bag came from Work Study, who informed us that the college's dental assistant program had given them out for Halloween. Who knew?

As to why I ended up with gifts from two people, it's a roundabout story, but suffice to say that I almost ended up with that Zombie book that I brought after things had made the rounds. But Sarge actually wanted the book and traded up to get it. So all's well that ends well, and I don't have to buy toothpaste or floss for a while.

• In other happy news, I went running this morning. My foot had been on the fritz for about a month and a half, but had gotten to feeling better, so I rejoined the weirdos this morning. It did okay, but in the meantime, I had contacted a local physical therapy office that specializes in running injuries.

They're offering a $49 special with full analysis/diagnostics, plus they're office is really close to our house. So I made an appointment for next week, and they sent me a questionnaire which asked typical questions like, "what hurts", "what makes it better/ worse", "what have I tried doing for it", etc... And it also asked something like, "What are my goals from therapy and how meaningful will it be for me to reach them?"

As for goals, I just want to be able to go for regular runs again and make a decent showing at a handful of races - 5K, 10K realm - each year, blah blah... But meaningful? I had to think. I mean, I'm nearly 60 years old. I'd like to be able to leave other 60-year-old women in the dust, but I'm pretty sure I've passed my peak. I came up with something for the meaningful question (all fields had to be filled in), but I realized I could find meaning in other activities if push comes to shove.

I'm off work today, and we're closed all next week. I guess I'll start searching for some meaningful things to occupy my time.

... or are you happy to see me?

Thanksgiving week is upon us. At this time of abundance, I'm doing all the prompts from Mama Kat:

1. Tell us about a current interest.

I've been following the Kaitlin-Armstrong-killed-Mo-Wilson sentencing and trial recaps. Sheesh, what a bizarre case. 

2. Write about something you gave a negative review.

This week I bought some cajun flavored sesame sticks from Natural Grocers. After eating a couple, I realized they were not cajun flavored but garlic flavored and mislabeled. And I was all, "gross", because I quite dislike garlic. But thankfully, no one here is allergic. But what if someone was allergic? That could be bad. 

I let the store know about it via their online contact page. Who knows if anyone reads the submissions? Not necessarily a negative review, but mislabeled food products could land them in hot water.

3. Tell us about something you are looking forward to.

I'm looking forward to a slowed week at work coming up. The test center is open through Wednesday, but students are on break all week, so it should be fairly calm and quiet. 🤞

4. Book review! Share a recent favorite (or least favorite) read.

I'm currently reading Happy Place by Emily Henry. I'm about halfway through it, and apparently it's a popular book. For me, I dunno, it's kinda... bad. It might end up a DNF for me.

5. Write a blog post in exactly 7 lines.

My fritzed foot is still not 100%.

But it feels better with each passing day.

I feel I could go for a short run.

But Dr. Internet says not to run for 4 to 6 weeks. 

So, no Thanksgiving race for me this year.

Boo hoo. 

Still very thankful for lots of stuff.

6. Write a blog post inspired by the word: over

We caught a cheater at work this week. Really, it's a rare occurrence. I've worked there for 2.5 years, and can remember just 4 cheaters, all of them college students.

But this guy, he hid a cell phone in the crotch of his pants, then began using the phone during his test. A coworker busted Cheater and took the phone. When going over the video footage, we also learned that Cheater was chewing tobacco and spitting in his testing room.

Party Girl had a justified cow when wiping down the workstation after Cheater finished, at which point he denied doing any spitting/ mess making.

He knew we have cameras, now he knows that they don't just watch, they record.

Game over?

morning balloons, night donuts

My right foot is on the fritz. It doesn't feel like running. Doctor Internet tells me I have metatarsal(s) stress/ strain. Fine, so be it.

But walking is agreeable, so my feet and I went out and did that on this sunny morning. Not long after heading out, I heard the unmistakable sound of a hot air balloon torch. I looked up to confirm my suspicions.

Hot air balloons are such a strangely calming sight, quietly floating along in the early morning. If I was in that basket, however, I would be anything BUT calm. 

I'm sure the views from up there are stunning, making me a bit jealous of the non-acrophobes. I'll stick to getting awe-inspiring views from the tops of big firm mountains and foothills.

This past week was a good one - felt productive. I was able to stick to my plan of getting up an hour earlier than I had been, putting that dang time-change to good use. 

Last night, we were streaming a movie when I heard squealing tires from not far away. I figured someone was Starsky-and-Hutching it down the main drag. But then... the squealing kept on and on. It would pause then resume, pause then resume... this went on for several minutes. Finally, I paused our movie to listen. 

It was quite noticeable, and I was surprised how long it continued. We stepped outside and concluded that someone(s) who has no qualms about needing to buy new tires, was spinning donuts in the nearby high school parking lot. I'll have to go out and investigate in a little while to see if there's a mess of burnt rubber evidence. 

As far as we know, no one called the cops, although I'm sure others heard it. Maybe most, like us, figured "someone else will report it" or "as long as they're not on the street, let them have their fun". It eventually stopped. I checked nextdoor and reddit, my main go-tos for nosiness. Nothing.

That's about it for the excitement at my end: bum foot, balloon, burnt rubber.

end of week bullets

• Last Sunday, I went for a run in the rain. It was actually quite nice - just rain. No lightning, no hail. A couple of weeks prior, I'd got caught in a rainstorm while running. At the point of getting rained upon, I knew if I turned around to go home, I'd become fully saturated anyway, so I just kept on a-going... and got fully saturated.

So last Sunday, it was already rainy when I left the house, and I wore my nylon shell, which did a good job of keeping me relatively dry - between waist and neck. My shoes got fully soaked, however, from all the puddles. Add the soaked shoes to the fact that my left sock had a small hole from which my pinky toe had pooched out, and I ended up tearing a small patch of skin from said pinky toe.  

Surprising how annoying a skin patchless pinky toe can be. Talk about your first world problems.

• Work at the testing center was very slow yesterday during my shift. I was there for four hours and gave three tests. But there were a few other tasks to catch up and occupy my time, so I ended up feeling quite productive. Plus, Work Study - our student employee - was there with a pile of math homework.  Summer classes are more concentrated than Fall and Spring, and she's in the thick of it. So I got some tuting done, and she got her homework done (while getting paid). Win-win (win).
  
  
• A Youtuber I check in on now and then (I don't subscribe to any Youtube channels) announced this week that he's going to stop doing daily vlogs. And I was all, "Good for you!" He's vlogged every day for the last seven years! 

He's a likable guy, and his channel is centered on running. That's how I found him - via his well done, informative shoe reviews. He lives in nearby Denver, and he attended the same university I did, so there's a local flair. He makes his living off  Youtube and supports his family of wife plus five-with-a-sixth-on-the-way kids, so it's clearly a lucrative gig.

But EVERY DAY??

I wonder how that affects a person's off-camera life: to be on camera every day for a channel with a large following - while raising a family, no less. Out there every day with the selfie stick and whatnot. His growing family is naturally often featured on his vlogs as well. So I'm glad for him and the family that he's decided to back off. 

• We've been watching Beef on Netflix. Seen it? Finished it? We made it to the final episode last night and were about halfway through it when - ZHOOOP - power outage.  By the time the power was back, I'd shut off the laptop and was ready for bed.
  
  Ironically, the title of that last episode is "Figures of Light", of which we had none.

calling, falling, calling

 I got one of those texts from the eye doctor's office this morning:

"Hi, Abby! It's been over a year since your last eye appointment..."

Well, no, I was there about six months ago for an annual once over. Shelled out the money for new lenses, got told that cataracts are starting to form. 

Cataracts?? Aren't those for old people??

Anyway, their automated text was wrong. Clearly they care nothing about me as a person... but honestly, I don't get too offended with these things - a glitch in the list/ system.

This past week at work, we were tasked to make calls to students who were enrolled last semester, but had not yet enrolled this semester, which starts on Tuesday. Remind them that "registration is open and classes are filling up 😁". 

We've had to do this before, to maybe drum up more tuition money. Is it effective? I dunno. What peeves us most, though, is that several of the callees from the list - generated by whom, we do not know - have told us, "Yeah, that's cuz I graduated? Last semester?"

Ugh, how rude. They paid tuition, struggled though a program, and graduated to alumni status - only to be called about "how come you haven't registered yet, lazy slacker?!"

So I changed my script from the boring one provided - by whom, we do not know - to acknowledge they may have graduated and moved on to bigger things. My coworkers started using my script, and we're probably going to be branded Rebels of the Calling Campaign. So be it.

So yes, classes begin this week. Time to get rolling. 

Speaking of rolling, I'm thankful for the mild weather we've had recently, helping to melt old snow and ice hanging around. I was able to have a normal week of bicycle commuting without freezing. 

One morning, however, did present as The Land of Black Ice. Magnum learned of it the hard way while riding his bicycle to the gym, of all places. Rounded a corner, and *ZHOOP* , surprise black ice, and he took it on the chin, upper lip. But hey, he's got all his teeth, so what's the problem?

I did venture out that same morning, on foot. I can vouch for the slipperiness. But if one managed to remain upright, it was actually a "pretty" start to the day, and I found this hidden goose playground.

On Christmas morning a few weeks back, I was near this neck of the woods when I heard what sounded like someone either really excited or really pissed off. Like REALLY. It was an eerie sounding primal scream, and I thought, "someone's not happy with how Christmas is going".

I told the family about it later, and Wolfgang suggested it might have been a mountain lion, so we googled, and yup, I'd say that's what I heard. Ever heard one? Sheesh!

"My" rendition wasn't nearly as long as in the video, but more like one big "AAAAAAAAAGGGHHH!" at a bit of a lower timbre. Mating sounds? Okay, big guy.

maybe next round, and gimme 15 minutes?

I took the cat to the vet's for his annual checkup and shots earlier this week.  As I was putting him into his carrier, he had a sudden epiphany that he didn't want to go and gave me the finger.

Spoiler alert:  he still ended up going to the vet.  He's got the rabies shot, and I've got the wounds to show for it.  Yes, I know cat scratch fever is in actual thing, and happily, I don't have it... yet.

Speaking of shots and diseases, we got a memo at work informing us that our facility will have the Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine available to any staff or resident who wants it within the next couple of weeks.  For now, it isn't required for employment, but it likely will be once the vaccine is more widely available. We were each asked to indicate one of three choices:

1. Yes!  Sign me up!
2. Nope, but maybe later.
3. Maybe, but I have questions.

I submitted the "Nope, but maybe later" option.  I'm not an anti-vaxxer, and naturally I hope the vaccine takes us out of the COVID wars, but I'm willing to wait a bit longer.  I also got an email from my allergist office as there have been risks associated with allergic reactions to the vaccine.  They've deemed me as relatively low risk for severe allergic reaction, saying I should feel free to get the shot, but hang out and be observed for about 15 minutes afterward.  

So this all feels like good activity.  Is this the beginning of the end, a good end?

The cat's over there looking at me like, "You can't get COVID if I take you out first"

a day of carnage and mystery

 Yesterday morning, just before sunrise, I was enjoying a morning riff-raff-bike-ride through that lovely ritzy private lake neighborhood.  At one point, I saw a dead furry thing in the road ahead.  

As I approached, I tried discerning what the carcass was.  Raccoon?  Dog?  Cat?  The fur was dark and a bit stripey.  I was leaning toward raccoon.  

There was a man approaching from the opposite direction, apparently out for a lovely morning walk.  We both acknowledged each other while acknowledging the dead furry thing in the road.  I wasn't looking forward to rolling passed it and seeing the full gore likely to be on display.  Walking Man also approached rather gingerly, like to investigate the death.  

I was about to say something to him like, "should we call to have someone properly remove this?" when that damn thing jumped up and trotted across the street!  It startled Walking Man too as he visibly flinched and took a step back.  I managed to stay upright on the bicycle.

Frickin' cat.  Big boy.  Laying in the middle of the street for grins. Probably playing games with us before returning to its millions dollar home for a bowl of caviar.

Walking Man and I just looked at each other all wide-eyed.

"I coulda swore it was dead!", he said, narrating my own thoughts.

Later, in the afternoon, I was again out bicycling on a short errand.  Again, I saw something ahead in the street.  It could've been some downed branches?  It did appear to be branch-like, but it wasn't just tree-colored.  As I got closer, it looked to be... a person?  A child?  And a downed bicycle?

Closer still, and yes. It was a person and a bicycle.  A woman actually.  I'd say she was about mid-50s.  She just laid there.

Another woman appeared on the corner of the sidewalk and began speaking to downed woman just as I pulled up.  Sidewalk Woman and I asked how Crash Woman was.  Was she okay?  Could she stand up?  She remained sitting in the road.

At first, I thought maybe she'd hurt her leg/hip/knee/foot/ankle and was unable to stand.  But then a car approached and Crash Woman stood up while picking up her bicycle.  

She was a little scratched up with road hash here and there, but she hadn't hit her (helmeted) head.  Her bike saddle had a little tear.  Had she gone over the handlebars? 

Sidewalk woman and I asked her questions:  Did she feel she needed medical attention?  a ride? want to sit down? some water?  

She never answered other than to decline the offer of water.  She just kept saying, "I don't know what happened".  It was a clear day on a smooth, debris free road.

It was soon clear that Crash Woman and Sidewalk Woman knew each other.  In fact, I think maybe Crash Woman had just left Sidewalk Woman's home.  So even though Crash Woman seemed to be a bit dazed as she was smiling at Sidwalk Woman but not talking, I started to feel like a third wheel...

... and left them to it.  

Clearly some torrid affair stuff going on.  Crash Woman deliberately making a scene in front of Sidewalk Woman's home, not expecting Stranger Woman to intrude on the drama out of the blue.  

I  mean, if she's not talking, I'm left to fill in the blanks myself.  Just like with Caviar Cat.

who are we?

I received a series of texts last night/this morning around 2am.  I normally turn my phone off at night, but I guess I forgot last night.

So I was awakened by these incoming texts - paragraphs of them.  Who is going to roll over and go back to sleep with that going on?  They were from a student of mine, one of the local high schoolers.  Let's call her "Betty".

Betty and her mom came to me early in the school year after Betty'd suffered a concussion during basketball practice.  As Betty struggled to recover, she fell behind in her classes, which made up a challenging junior-year course load.

I enjoy working with Betty.  She's observant and funny, and she works hard.  She often seemed tired and confused, forgetting things we'd reviewed just moments prior.  Her speech and writing would sometimes become notably slow.  Betty's doctor eventually advised her to drop the math class I was tutoring her for as it was putting too much strain on Betty's brain, slowing her recovery and making her headaches worse.

Then there's neighbor kid, Matt.  He's a couple years older than Meego and attends college in Denver.  A little over a year ago, he was hit by a car while running and errand on his bicycle, and he wasn't wearing a helmet.  Once again, concussion.  It's set him back a couple of semesters of college, but it could've been much worse.  His mom tells me of the bizarre personality and mood changes in Matt since his concussion, but he seems on the mend now.

Then there's my friend, Dee.  Dee's husband had a bad skiing accident a couple of seasons ago - concussion.  Dee says he underwent a "complete personality change".  At first, it was amusing, but then, among other things, he wanted to leave Dee and the thriving business they've built.  Dee managed to keep it together, and counseling is helping them a lot.

These kinds of things get me pondering.  Who are we at the "soul"?  How much of our personalities are shaped by our culture and our biology and our brain matter if a blow to the head can make such marked changes?

So these texts.  In them, Betty describes her frustration with this past school year - with having to withdraw from precalculus and also returning an utterly lackluster SAT score. She has a plan for summer break to get some of herself, her grades, and her test scores back.

I'm here and rootin' for ya Betty!  Now, get some sleep.

my name is not Stacy, and ice is hard

Saturday was our local shindig to celebrate the founders of P.E.O., aptly named "Founders Day".  We do it every year on the 1st or 2nd Saturday of February, when all the area P.E.O. chapters (there are 13 chapters in our local reciprocity) gather and pay homage to the seven founders.

Here's a group photo my chapter snagged.  Girls Gone Wild or what??

When I arrived and checked in, my name tag was nonexistent.  The check-in ladies took my word for it and let me in with a fancy name tag... I made for myself with a Sharpie.  A few minutes later, one of them had hunted me down (there were about 300 partiers in the banquet hall) so that the head check-in lady could figure out what happened with my registration.

"Oh, you're name's not Stacy", the hunter said.

And I was all, "Uhm... no"

For some reason, she'd had it in her mind that name tagless person was named Stacy, but "Good thing I remembered what you looked like!"

Yes, good for her.  Got it cleared up and the rest of Founder's Day went on without hitch.

A little earlier today, Magnum and I went out for our Sunday stroll.  We were walking along a stretch of MUP (that's "multi-use path") that is notoriously neglected when it comes to snow removal.  As such, there are several patches of ice along the path.

As we were walking across one of the ice patches, I suddenly slammed into the ground.  I don't even know why.  I don't think I slipped on the ice, but rather, I think some obstacle was lodged in the ice and I tripped over it.

I'm sure it was all very graceful (not).  I landed face-forward with my right arm bent a bit and crossed in front of my body - my right shoulder and elbow taking the brunt of the impact.  Initially, I felt a sharp pain in one of my right boob ribs - that would be a rib in the chest area - but glad to say there's no lingering pain.  I've had cracked ribs before and they're a b*tch.

I lay there for a bit on the cold hard ice to catch the wind that had been knocked out of me, not because the cold hard ice was comfortable at all.  There was really nothing Magnum could do but wait for me to gather myself, so that's what he did, and we were eventually on our way, making it back without further mishap.

Now I'm recalling that Margaret fell while walking through snow recently.  Shortly afterward, all her computer files mysteriously disappeared because of her corrupt "Margaret" file.

Think I'll go do a quick backup.  My "Abby" file or my "Stacy" file is probably corrupt...  The ice has spoken.

a cautionary tale sort of involving a minion

"Okay... so... I got some of that cleanser in my eye..."

It was young Mitch, tapping me on the shoulder.  Just prior to that announcement, I was enjoying another day in Lunch Lady Land - whipping up a fine batch of fajita chicken while probably daydreaming about the upcoming weekend.  Young Mitch brought me roaring back to the present.

Young Mitch was a pleasant college-aged guy and fellow Lunch Lady - a title he wore proudly despite being a cis-gendered male.  We all liked Mitch, and because of his age, the rest of us lunch ladies felt a bit protectively maternal about him.  By contrast, our middle school clientele, particularly the girls,  seemed especially appreciative when young Mitch was working the cash register.

At this particular moment, as I was fajitizing some chicken, young Mitch had been cleaning nearby when his plastic bottle of cleanser spit on him.  I turned and found him standing there with his usual mellow demeanor except for his tightly shut left eye.

I sprang into action.

"YES!... Well... uhm... YES!... to the eyewash... YES?"

I led him calmly to the eyewash station, mostly driven by that protective maternal instinct.  However, I confess that there was a small portion of me that was all, "KEWL!  We get to use the eyewash!"

Here, a couple of well-cast actors perform my and Mitch's dramatization:

As he continued to flush his eyes, we read the label on the cleanser he'd been using.  I pulled the MSDS for more info.  In short, it turns out we did everything right, except for one thing:

We forgot to have him wear eye protection in the first place 😞

A big boss came out to log an incident report.  Young Mitch left to "immediately seek medical attention" as instructed.  Our manager got in a bit of trouble for not having him wear eye protection.  Supervisor Gayle, who'd asked him to use the cleanser, got in a bit of trouble too.  They both felt bad, but thankfully, Mitch was checked out and deemed fine.

It was no surprise when, the next day, a memo about using appropriate eye protection and knowing where safety goggles are located went out to all kitchens.  We located our goggles, all shiny, still in their original packaging.

We had a few student helpers that helped out during lunchtimes in exchange for complimentary lunch.  That might make some think, "gee what great kids!", but in reality, they weren't always that great.  The day after the cleanser-in-the-eye incident, a couple of boys were arguing over something  - a girl, I think - when they were supposed to be working.  Ahh, adolescence.

Gayle heard a commotion and came around the corner from where she had been completing a technical task and obeyingly wearing the required eye protection.  Now, Gayle is quite a character.  She's got a tough don't-mess-with-me personality when needed.  She's also about five feet tall and just as wide.  This is what I saw when she came around the corner to give those boys the what for:

It's like those kids became paralyzed - no moving, no speaking.  They weren't sure what to think.  She lectured them on proper behavior during their work shifts.  They sprang into proper action while we adults were stifling our giggles.  One boy finally asked her about the goggles.

"I'm working with CHEMICALS, okay?!", she answered before authoritatively striding back to her task.

Afterward, we joked and marveled at the effective air of authority from the safety goggles.  The kids don't need to know that she was just cleaning the toilet.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:

3. Write a blog post inspired by the word: cautious

Silver Liningness

For many Sundays, I used to blog "Silver Liningness Sunday" posts, serving as a recap of the week and being thankful.  Maybe I should fire that up again, at least occasionally.  This week had some rough patches, but they were balanced with good parts.  And it could definitely be worse, it can always be worse.

Our manager announced that her managers are transferring her to a different crew next year.  She doesn't want to go, but wasn't given a choice.  Right away, a few of my coworkers assumed the worse:  that our new manager will be a bitch, even though he/she hasn't been hired yet.  I found it interesting to see different people's reactions to change

While I'm sad to see our manager go - she really is a pleasure to work for - I'm not fretting about who the next boss will be.  Maybe it's because this part-time lunch lady gig is just a stepping stone for me.  It's a way to make some contacts and move away from the field of education to that of operations and supervision.

And silver lining:  the schedule is ideal, and I believe my "fan base" has grown as I've have managed to improve a few things.

In related news, a large and heavy freezer cart tried to crush and kill me this week.  I managed to stop it, however.  Mostly with my face.

Silver lining:  I guess my time at the gym is paying off, plus I'm sporting some new eyeglass frames 😎.

Meego and the winter percussion group had state competition yesterday.  They did not medal despite a solid performance.  In fact, the judging was so weird, it's almost as if there were outside factors involved in the scoring (conspiracy!).

Honestly, I'm usually in agreement with the judging, win or no, but this year was way off.  Enough to where there was a lot of...

... going around.

Silver lining:  The kids had a fun season and made lasting memories while greatly increasing their skills.  And the audience clearly enjoyed the show.  Onto the next thing!

All in all, a good week.

And I'm curious, do you fear change?

communication skills

Do you leave your phone on all the time?  Is it near you when you sleep?  I was having this conversation recently with some people, and the overall majority said they sleep with their phones.

They had reasons:
"It's my alarm"
"I get called into work early in the morning"
"What if... happens?!"

Unless Meego is out late somewhere, I typically turn my phone off at bedtime.  Yes, we have older kids, but they're technically adults and pretty self sufficient.

Tuesday morning I turned on the phone and as it booted up, I had two texts from Chaco:

"J took me to the hospital, but I'm better now"

"Wolfgang knows the details"

Okay, so that was slightly better than the time he texted me that he'd been hit by a car while on his bicycle to his place from our house and nothing more.  Slightly.

I eventually got the scoop.  Chaco and his girlfriend were at a rock climbing gym.  As Chaco was climbing, he was gripping a hold with his left hand and his feet slipped from the wall, leaving him dangling from the hold with his left hand.  In hindsight, I guess he should've just let go, but who would do that?

Since he didn't just let go, he dislocated his left shoulder.  The crew in the ER, with the help of some good drugs, put him back together.

As I talked to him, I told him I'd turned off my phone around 10:00.

"Ha, I texted you at 10:06"

Figures.

Other than THAT, it's been a great week.  I got in my last days at that old  high school job, and feel I'm leaving on a good note.  I like the kids and the staff, it was the job itself that sucked 😝.  And there was some silly drama - from a few of the adults! - that I didn't care to be a part of. 

They still have one more week left of school before winter break, but it's half days for finals.  I'm out.  That last class on Friday took FOREVER!  I swear time stopped.

What time is it?  Where's your phone?

over the (big gelatinous) hump

That bug sting I got on Wednesday at approximately 11:26:43 AM but who's tracking?  Wish as I did for "just a glancing shot", the thing morphed into an ugly angry itchy hot lumpy thing.  Well, I suppose that was all of me in general.

It's a slow process.  In fact, I spent Wednesday afternoon volunteering at Meego's band camp while the leg remained pretty operational despite a growing red patch covering my inner thigh. But by Thursday morning, it was well on its way to Manatee Leg

CoinkyDinkly, I had a doctor's appointment Thursday morning for my annual "well woman" checkup.  That term always conjures up an image similar to--->
in my brain.


Even though a well woman checkup is not similar to that at all


ANYWAY, since I was there, I figured I'd ask the good doctor about this bee sting business





Not surprisingly, the lumpy thing did the asking for me. The doctor's medical jargon reply:

"What is THAT?!"

So we talked bee stings and my typical reaction.  I swear I thought this is something everyone goes through!  When others told me they just maybe get a little bump, I just figured they hadn't been stung by a "real" bee.  😕

But based on the fact that the doc has been through med school and all, and that she even went so far as to suggest I start carrying an Epipen, I began to realize that Manatee Leg (neck/chest/hand...) was not a normal reaction.

I think I'm over the worst of it now as it maxed out sometime Thursday into Friday.  There's still quite a bit of bee juice in there, but the redness and general discomfort has lessened.   I have an appointment next week with an allergist *fingers crossed*

In other news of excess stuff, Wolfgang has temporarily moved in

That's Meego at his computer among most of Wolfgang's crap.  Meego has an entire couch now for a "desk chair".  It was the most logical place for the couch, so be it.

Wolfgang's lease was up at his apartment, and he's not wanting to sign another lease as the plan is to move out of town in the near future.  In the meantime, he has his job here in town, but is looking to expand his employment horizons while filling our house with stuff.

the one where we take in a greyhound and Chaco gets hit by a car

I haven't been here since Prom??  So neglectful...  Allow me to summarize

It's not really that I've been super busy.  Just wrapping up some end-of-(school)-year things when it comes to tutees and our own kids.  Oh, and we decided to become a foster home for retired racing greyhounds.  We got our first foster today!

This is Sierra

We picked her up this morning in lovely Fort Lupton, Colorado. As you can see, our Prom snow has been replaced by summer.  There were six dogs in all in this particular "haul".

They've all been cat tested and (supposedly) Sierra passed.  We're wondering just what sort of cat they use to test dogs for cat friendliness?  I can just picture these tough cats sitting around the bar:

"So, what do you do for a living?"

"I test hunting hounds that run over 40 miles per hour for cat friendliness, you?"

Napolion has yet to be properly introduced, however, since at first sight, he took off.  At second sight, Sierra didn't even notice him.  Yeah, some hunter.

In summary, she's about fifty pounds of muscle and awesome, but more to come later.

Chaco came over to meet the pooch, hung around for lunch, then headed out, hoping not to get caught in an afternoon rainstorm.  He was on his bicycle.

A little while later, I got a text from him:

"I just got hit by a car."

Okay, kids, a word of advice.  Don't text your mother, "I just got hit by a car" then no response to further inquiries.

I did eventually get ahold of him.  He'd sent that first text from the urgent care, and then was busy being an urgent care visitor.  Anyway, he's fine.  It was a very low speed crash - guy said he didn't see Chaco and turned right at an intersection... that Chaco was in.  Chaco didn't even want to go to urgent care, but the driver made him go.

He SHOULD have contacted police, but, in his words, "I didn't want it to be a thing, 'cause I've got other things to do today..."

*sigh*  At least he didn't get caught in a rainstorm.

the arrival!

Ah spring!  It has arriveth!

Doncha just love the longer days, the warmer temps, the chirping birds, the budding plants, the oozing road rash...

This morning, I was enjoying a lovely run just before sunrise.  Recall that I'd been off the running for several months due to injuring my foot  due to being a non-alcoholic drunk for about one month.  For those who don't recall, I'd rather not rehash it

Suffice to say that walking like a drunk person for a month can mess up a foot.

ANYhoo, the drunk feeling is gone, and the foot is better, so I've been able to get back out and pretend to be a runner again.

This morning, I was doing just that while taking in the lovely sights of spring.  Maybe, instead, I should've been paying better attention to where I was going.

As I crossed a small side street, I went to hop, gazelle-like, over the curb.  Except it wasn't gazelle-like at all.  Apparently, my left foot didn't get the memo about the impending gazelle-like hopping.

I'm thinking that my left foot was mad at the (previously injured) right foot and saw this as a chance to get a word in.  So it purposely failed to clear the curb, and my right knee took the brunt of the revenge.  

It wasn't embarrassing at all *sarcasm*

Happily, there was no lasting damage.  I was able to instantly bounce up in an I-totally-meant-to-throw-a-pushup-into-the-middle-of-my-run kind of way.

So while I haven't yet taken that much needed trip, I feel like I've flown United Airlines!  

And I am thrilled to be able to run again.  What is spring without some road rash??

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up with Mama Kat again this week for the prompt:
2. Show us what Spring looks like in your neck of the woods

plastered

It's a cutthroat, violent, aggressive sport.  It's a wonder it's not been banned.  Why were young formative children allowed to - EXPECTED to - participate?!

I knew nothing of its tragic effects until I got that phone call, THAT call.  It was a crisp February morning:

"Hello?"

"Hi Mrs. Abby.  It's the elementary school.  Your son Chaco was hurt in P.E. this morning.  He's in with the school nurse..."

I raced to the school (after I finished my coffee and combed my hair a little bit and stuff...)

Sure enough, there was Chaco, holding his right arm, the nurse at his side saying, "Yeah, he should probably get that checked".

As we were leaving, the P.E. teacher, Mr. Steve, appeared, all anxious.

"How's he doing?!  I don't know what happened!  This has never happened before!  *No one's ever broken a bone in my class!"

I glared at him with a mother's scorn.  By then, I'd heard what had happened.  Those sweet little 5th graders were hauled down to the gym from the comfort of their warm, loving classroom and thrown upon a brutal battlefield.  No tolerance for the meek, and no security for the aggressive.





Pillow Polo.  It was freaking pillow polo.

Bloody carnage waiting to happen.  Look away.









Is it any wonder Chaco broke his wrist?!  Especially considering that just a couple of days prior, he "fell up" the back yard stairs and noted lasting tenderness in his wrist, which probably warranted my writing a note to excuse him from P.E.??

But then if I'd done that, Chaco wouldn't have gotten that cool cast, and Mr. Steve couldn't have anxiously and temporarily taken credit for it.


*I've since learned that that was not true, but Mr. Steve didn't know me that well yet then, and was probably worried I would sue and drag him though the mud*

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up with Mama Kat again this week for the prompt:

5. Throwback Thursday: Choose a photo from a previous February and write a poem or a blog post.

it could be worse

I returned to the gym this week, figuring that most of the resolutionists that were going to stay have somewhat acclimated to their new lifestyles, and the rest have hung up their gear.  It was noticeably more crowded on Monday, but that was a holiday for many people.  The other days have featured mostly the familiar faces.

I usually go in the middle of the day, because I can, during  off-peak hours.  Most of the patrons are older retired men, women around my age, young moms with kids in the childcare and/or elementary school, and early 20's types who probably work in the evenings.

Prior to this, I hadn't belonged to a gym in several years.  Recall that Wolfgang talked us into joining his gym, thus upgrading from single to family membership, which drastically reduced his fees.  Now, a few months in, I'm glad we decided to join - especially now in what's become the "season of foot appreciation".

It's a large facility, with plenty to do.  When we were checking it out, I read the reviews online, which were mostly favorable.

The unfavorable ones mentioned dings against the childcare, complaining that "the kids are allowed to sit and watch TV".

And I'm thinking, "do these people want a safe place for their kids or a free kids' camp?"  But I really can't comment, I don't use the childcare.

Then there are those who complain about the food and prices in the cafe.  I can't comment, I don't go to a gym to eat.

One review states,"It is not a comfortable place for women. Men have made extremely sexist, derogatory remarks to me and made me extremely uncomfortable to even be there."  Personally, I haven't experienced that at all, nor have I seen such offenses against any of the other women while I've been there.  In general, the men seem to just ignore me...

Then there were critical reviews complaining about the parking lot.  I mentioned, it's a big facility, so the parking lot is large to accommodate members during peak hours.  Apparently, some exercisers don't like having to walk across a parking lot?

Oh well.  Live and let live.  Maybe I should get this workout top.

Pinterest

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up with Mama Kat for the prompt:

4. Write a blog post inspired by the word: workout.