Laugh if you must. It's an unread 372 page hard back volume subtitled "The Q.U.I.C.K. Way to Bring Lasting Order to Household Chaos." Brother. The house was fine. If only I could have ignored the garage a little longer.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Irony is definitely not fun. I guess, realistically, that would depend on which side of the joke you happen to be located. After days of finally tackling boxes in the garage left over from our move here (yes, I know we've been here a year and a half), we had several surprises. We found the base of my food processor. That was very good. We found clothes that are now too big for me. That also was very good. We found lots of good things. We filled many trash cans, and many boxes for Good Will. Then, at the bottom of one of the final boxes, I found a book called "Cut The Clutter and Stow the Stuff."
Friday, January 18, 2008
John and I went to Fort Collins last night to the Lincoln Center, the closest performing arts center, where we paid a modest eight dollars each to see a wonderful concert by the cowboy band, Riders In the Sky. I got to meet Ranger Doug and the whole group afterwards. We actually talked for about ten minutes. I was amazed by how nice they all are.
Their voices are as great on stage as they are on their records. And Ranger Doug can really hit those high notes. I've never heard anyone who can yodel like he can, and some of the kids in the audience probably tied their tonsils in knots trying to imitate him. Those gentlemen had the whole audience laughing at some of their antics, but no one could ever complain about their mastery of their instruments. They put a lot of music out from one guitar, one fiddle, one bass, and one accordion. It was a great concert. I'll be keeping the autographs I got from them right next to the ones I got from The Statler Brothers and Mark O'Connor.
It really amazes me, how lucky I've been to have seen so many wonderful live events over the years. The only way last night could have been better would have been for Sherrie to have been here to enjoy it with us. I kept thinking about her last night, and knew she'd really have loved the show, so I was going to rush home and blog right away, but then my computer died.
Did I panic? Of course. I've never had a Mac just die on me. It wouldn't respond to anything. It was just dead. Nothing. I diagnosed it as a dead drive. That had to be it. Luckily, I was all backed up, so wouldn't lose more than an hour, since the new system software does this automatically, and I don't even have to think about it anymore. Still, how could I live without my trusty laptop for a week while it went in for repairs? I called Sherrie and she commiserated. Then I told her about our night out and she was fittingly impressed.
We said goodnight. I closed up the dead Mac, cleared up my desktop table, noticed the cord on the floor and absently plugged it back into the Mac, then went to bed. At about 3 a.m., I got back up and went into the living room, opened up the Mac again, and everything sprang to life. It wasn't dead. It had been unplugged long enough to drain the battery completely. I had been in the other room when the warning flashed on the screen. I came back in to a dead Mac and thought the worst. As Daddy used to say, "That'll learn you."
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
I know it's not nice, but I've been so accustomed to John not being able to hear me, that when he does something I don't like (just change the channel while I'm watching something on TV for instance) I make comments that I know he can't hear. Unless he's actually looking at me and sees my mouth moving, I'm safe. I can say anything I want. So yesterday, while I was watching NCIS, he picked up the phone and dialed a friend, and while talking, grabbed the remote and muted the volume completely for about ten minutes. He could have just paused it, since we have a DVR, but didn't think about the fact that I was watching something. So I said, "What a rude, stupid thing to do..." I said it very quietly.
Did I mention that John got his hearing aids yesterday? After finishing his conversation without comment, he hung up, looked over at me and said, "So I'm rude and stupid, am I?" Boy, was I surprised. I apologized for my mouth, but explained his options, like leaving the room or pausing the TV. He had, after all, said that I could watch whatever I wanted, and so he knew I was watching that show. Did he really think I didn't want to hear it? He then told me to just rewind it myself, which I had already done, of course.
By that time I felt about an inch high. It's definitely time to retrain my mouth.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
And what have we learned? Growing older doesn't really mean we've learned all that much, I guess. More about that in a moment...
I haven't been writing much in my blog, because what's to say? What a wonderful day this is! Our best Christmas yet, and we're living in a post card! All true. We did have a really wonderful Christmas season, and I decided to delay until Saturday removing my Christmas decorations. I'm still enjoying them, so why not? We've taken some day trips to the Apple Genius Bar to answer some questions on my new system software, but other than that, we've stayed pretty close to home, just enjoying being here. John's got his radios, and I'm busy with my yarn work.
Now, back to my opening statement. Since childhood I've known that I pass out easily. When Mom took us for shots, she says the other three would cry. I'd smile, then pass out. I passed out when I got my ears pierced. (Laugh if you must.) When my oldest son got stitches, and the doctor asked me to help hold him still, I passed out, and then the doctor had two patients. Boy, was he upset. Often, when I see someone else injured, I either pass out, or come really close.
Last night John was watching something I had saved on TV for him, some extreme sports gone wrong. I was sitting there, kind of watching with him, really not thinking it was going to be that bad, when a young man was really badly hurt. Really badly. I got up from my chair with one thought in mind — I'm going to pass out. That thought was too big to allow sensible thoughts in there, like why get up if you're going to pass out, or why not ask for help.
I made it into the kitchen, played body pinball while getting a glass of water, and then played body pinball against several corners and walls on my way back into the dining room. That's as far as I made it before I actually did pass out, hitting the doorway, the table, and who knows what else. (Yes, I spilled the water.) I not only have some very colorful bruises, and a stiff and sore body, but I scared poor John half to death. In fact, here it is the next day, and although he's been up for hours, he hasn't gone down to his radio room. He keeps walking the floor behind me, asking me, "Are you okay?" I guess he's decided he'd like to keep me around another year. And yes, I'm fine. I just needed to do something really dumb to start the new year so that I don't start feeling too smart.
So if you're thinking that I need a keeper, be glad. I have one.