I Got What I Asked For

"It could be worse," as the old Minnesota saying goes.

A few days ago I expressed the wish that my body make up its mind: either be sick, or not feel slightly 'off.'

I got what I asked for. The next day I had a sincere cough, a wholeheartedly stuffed nose, headache from coughing so much: the whole package.

This morning, my wife told me I wasn't going to church. I had no problem with the idea. I've been spending the day being quite: aside from the semi-regular cough.

Outside we've got a beautiful picture-postcard early autumn day: bright sunshine; blue sky; just enough cirrus cloud to make it interesting.


About 4:50 this afternoon. September 29, 2013.

October's Dull Gray Weather; Winter Preparations; and a Fine Son

I like my daughters, too: but you'll see why I put a spotlight on my son in the headline, later.

"October's bright blue weather" is gone, again: replaced with shifting patterns of gray on gray overhead. Hardly surprising: Minnesota's weather is notoriously varied. The forecast for Friday's changed, too. Now we're supposed to expect sunshine and clouds - just like Thursday's forecast shifted from a promise of overcast and rain to "partly cloudy."

This household's getting ready for winter. My wife and kids lifted the air conditioner out of the window where it spend the summer. It's resting on the floor behind my chair at the moment. That was, if memory serves, yesterday.

My wife also put up the curtains we have at the bottom of the stairs leading to the second floor, and between the sort of micro-hall at the bottom of the stairs and the living room. They help control drafts, and let us keep the ground floor at comfortable temperatures, while letting the second floor run a bit cooler.

I was going to accomplish things today, including getting to the Harvest Graces Mass this morning.

You May Not Want to Read This Part

Then, as I was getting ready to take that Knights of Columbus bulletin to the post office, I didn't quite get to the bathroom in time. By the time my son noticed the smell, I'd cleaned the worst of it off the floor, and washed myself in the shower - and giving the clothes I'd been wearing a first-rinse while I was there.

Disgusting. Rather.

That's My Boy!

Then my wife called. She'd come back, with #3 daughter, from driving my father-in-law to Alex for a medical procedure. The operation went well, I'm told. I also learned that she wanted me to pick her up.

No problem. I'd stay in the van, the ladies would come out, and then would carry the bulletin and paperwork into the post office building.

By the time I was walking toward the garage, I saw my son with a bucket of soapy water, heading for the bathroom. Unbidden, without prompting, and quite on his own, he'd decided to clean up what was left of the mess.

"That's my boy!"

Catching Up, a Mouse, and Looking Forward to the Weekend

I'm still getting caught up with my work, but since I'm my own boss there hasn't been too much trouble explaining the situation to myself.

On a less schizophrenic note, #3 daughter spotted a mouse (we think) skittering across the living room floor. I think it was as spooked as she was. We'll be dealing with that situation in the morning. It's that time of year, when critters start finding their way inside. Earlier this week, I found a boxelder bug in the bathroom. They're not near the top of my list of cute-and-cuddly creatures. It's the way those blood-red eyes glow, when the light's at a certain angle, I think.

Right now, I'm wrapping up the day's tasks - and looking forward to grilling lunch tomorrow.

October's Bright Blue Weather's Back

Another brisk, bright, blue-skied October day.

I like this time of year: partly, I think, because with most leaves off the trees, we're able to see more of the landscape; and more light gets to the ground.

My son came home today with the news that he'd had a flu shot, and had handled it rather well. Which reminds me, it's time for me to do the same: on both counts.

He's also getting his Halloween costume ready: a home-made Bionicle, of course. I'm looking forward to seeing what he's done this year.

He had another friend over today, after school. The two boys had a good time. Mostly in the basement, I'm happy to say.

After supper, my wife and #3 daughter went to check out a house for #2 daughter. My wife and #2 daughter talked about it on the phone, later in the evening.

Me? I talked with someone about a video he wants edited, took some photos, learned a little more about a set of 3D modeling software, and caught up on email. Somehow, that took the entire day.

New Hips and the Incredible Collapsing Chair

One of my daughters observed that I got new hips just in time. In common with the other ladies of this household, she's probably right.

I was up late tonight, trying to wrap up enough tasks to make for a relaxing Sunday. I'd left my laptop running in the living room. The lights were off there, but there was plenty of illumination from the doorway. I crossed the room, turned, sat in the chair I've been using, and moved it back.

I've had that chair for quite a few years now. Almost ten, I think. It's one of those inexpensive stackable things you see in front of convenience stores during summer months. Quite comfortable.

The first sign of trouble was a distinct, sharp sound: emanating from where the right rear leg of the chair had been.

That chair leg was now pursuing an independent career as a sort of kinetic art project.

The rest of the chair, with me on top, toppled backwards into the southwest corner of the living room until we met the floor and, in my case, the south wall.

At that point my eldest daughter, whose current residence is in this house, and who at that point was the closest to me, asked me if I was all right.

A reasonable question, deserving a reasonable answer. I abandoned my contemplation of the dark living room's shadow-shrouded ceiling, and answered that I was okay, but could use some help.

My wife and second-eldest daughter arrived to view the wreckage not much more than a minute later than the oldest daughter. Someone (I suspect it was my wife) had the presence of mind to turn on the light.

The chair's three remaining legs, together with my flip-flop-clad feet, blocked direct access to me, although I could extend my arms far enough for them to grab. After a well-intentioned, but doomed, effort to hoist me out by using my seat as a fulcrum, I suggested an alternate plan.

My wife grabbed one ankle, my second-oldest daughter grabbed the other, and they hauled me and the chair out of the corner like an oversize grain sack on a pallet.

That left me with enough room to roll out of the chair and get to my feet.

My oldest daughter brightly observed that my movements resembled those of a beached walrus.

I love my family. They put up with me, and I appreciate that.

What do the new hips have to do with this? I was able to move after getting dragged out, and I didn't scream once.