Saturday Stuff: A Neat Award & a Natty Leg

Writing is the only profession where no one considers you ridiculous if you earn no money. ~ Jules Renard (1864-1910)

 

The PREMIO DARDOS award is given for recognition of cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values transmitted in the form of creative and original writing.

Thank you, Mimi, for presenting Nick’s Bytes with such a meaningful award!

Do you remember my blogging about my pulled, strained or whatever Sartorius muscle in my right leg last Saturday? Since then I’ve taken the meds prescribed and followed he doc’s directions. By last Wednesday I believed that healing was well underway—at least I didn’t have the severe pain I had experienced when moving my leg and I could actually lift my foot off the floor when I walked.

So I had no real concern about driving to an appointment at the VA clinic yesterday. I should have! Most of the drive was on expressways, so I didn’t have to move my right leg: I was able to control my speed using the cruise control and, when merging from one expressway onto another, gearing down from 5^th gear to 3^rd gear (as I usually do when I merge at that location). My left leg, although still a problem, had no difficulty working the clutch.

However, when I left the expressway, I encountered three red lights in a row. I experience a jolt of pain as I approached the first light and tried to engage the brake. By the third light, I couldn’t lift my right leg onto the break and stopped—just barely—by putting the gear in neutral and using my left leg on the brake. When I turned into the VA parking lot, I ended up stopping the car by letting it roll up to the concrete thingie at the end of the parking space.

Then I found that I couldn’t get out of the car on my own! I couldn’t lift my right leg.  With Tasha’s help—and a lot of pain—I made it out and entered the clinic in a wheelchair that Tasha had brought from the clinic. (Thankfully, they have a couple of huge wheelchairs that I can get my obese ass into!)

After the appointment, I realized that I couldn’t safely drive home. Realistically, I probably could not even get into my CRV! Again thankfully, my home church, Salem United Church of Christ, is located next to the VA clinic and my colleague, friend and pastor, the Rev. Doug Fowler, was in his office.

Doug borrowed a huge four-door Mercury from a parishioner who lives near the church and, with Doug and Tasha’s help—and lots of pain—I was able to get into the car and out of it after Doug drove me home. I then fixed myself lunch, dragging my right leg around in that Chester Goode style —I’m a-comin’, Mr. Dillon—that I wrote about last Saturday.

I made telephone calls back to the VA and to Dr. Mike’s office for medical help. At VA I was told that they will “try” to speed up the referral for me to obtain a (large) wheelchair that was made last month. Someone will come from Dr. Mike’s office to see me at the beginning of next week, which may be a problem since I have VA medical appointments on both Monday and Tuesday.   

I then took one of the pain meds and napped with Alex for a couple of hours. After helping Alex write a blog post about how his silly hoomin bean has again hurt his leg and how the cat who owns me is taking care of me, Alex and I both retired again, this time for the night, only to get up after about three hours because of the pain in my leg.

There are some strategic plans I need to make regarding my life, my car and next week’s appointments. I need some groceries for the weekend and have no way to get them. The CRV remains in the VA parking lot since Tasha could not drive it home for me because she doesn’t know how to drive a vehicle with a standard transmission. I must arrange transportation to the two VA medical appointments I have next week.

That’s the story. I am grateful for the help of Rev. Fowler and Tasha and most thankful that I didn’t wreck my car. One must look for the good things and the humor that can usually be found within bad situations!

A Bitz ob Ebertang—I mean, a “Bit of Everything"

Please Notez: Alex’s Bloggie Thingie

All of the writing that I haz been doingz in Alex’z personae sometimez haz me writingz likez Alex whenz I aint Alex. OK?

 

Alexicon, Alex’s Blog

Van Gogh’s Ear Award

Presented to Nick’s Bytes by Akelamalu

A Question about Cat Behavior

Alex is the first cat to have owned me. I have been the master of many dogs, but I have learned that dog and cat behavior is very different.

For example, when I would offer any of my dogs a doggie treat, it would be out of my hand and into the dog’s mouth in a fraction of second. It was usually literally woofed down and the canine would be begging for a second treat.

It isn’t like that with Alex! Alex refuses to accept a cat treat—even his favorites—from my hand. He wants to place them before him on the table or my (our) desk. Furthermore, he doesn’t want me to just haphazardly put them down; he wants me to line them up, side-by-side, so that the can eat them one at a time without moving from where he is sitting. I do not understand his behavior.

Also, Alex never begs for treats—or anything else.

Things That I Have Done

I found this one on Akelamalu’s blog. I don’t think that I have done it, so…

 

The bold items are the ones I have done.

 

1. Started your own blog

2. Slept under the stars

3. Played in a band

4. Visited Hawaii

5. Watched a meteor shower

6. Given more than you can afford to charity

7. Been to Disneyland (Disney World)

8. Climbed a mountain

9. Held a praying mantis

10. Sang a solo

11. Bungee jumped

12. Visited Paris

13. Watched a lightning storm at sea

14. Taught yourself an art from scratch

15. Adopted a child

16. Had food poisoning

17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty

18. Grown your own vegetables

19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France \

20. Slept on an overnight train

21. Had a pillow fight

22. Hitch hiked

23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill

24. Built a snow fort

25. Held a lamb

26. Gone skinny dipping

27. Run a Marathon

28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice

29. Seen a total eclipse

30. Watched a sunrise or sunset

31. Hit a home run

32. Been on a cruise

33. Seen Niagara Falls in person

34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors

35. Seen an Amish community

36. Taught yourself a new language

37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied

38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person

39. Gone rock climbing

40. Seen Michelangelo’s David

41. Sung karaoke

42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant

44. Visited Africa

45. Walked on a beach by moonlight

46. Been transported in an ambulance

47. Had your portrait painted

48. Gone deep sea fishing

49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris

51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling

52. Kissed in the rain

53. Played in the mud

54. Gone to a drive-in theater

55. Been in a movie

56. Visited the Great Wall of China

57. Started a business

58. Taken a martial arts class

59. Visited Russia

60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies

62. Gone whale watching-porpoises

63. Got flowers for no reason

64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma

65. Gone sky diving

66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp

67. Bounced a check

68. Flown in a helicopter

69. Saved a favorite childhood toy

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten Caviar

72. Pieced a quilt

73. Stood in Times Square

74. Toured the Everglades

75. Been fired from a job

76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London

77. Broken a bone

78. Been on a speeding motorcycle

79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person

80. Published a book.

81. Visited the Vatican

82. Bought a brand new car

83. Walked in Jerusalem

84. Had your picture in the newspaper

85. Read the entire Bible

86. Visited the White House

87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating

88. Had chickenpox

89. Saved someone’s life

90. Sat on a jury

91. Met someone famous

92. Joined a book club

93. Lost a loved one

94. Had a baby (fathered two)

95. Seen the Alamo in person

96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake

97. Been involved in a law suit

98. Owned a cell phone

99. Been stung by a bee

100. Read an entire book in one day

My thanks to Squirl for this one:

119 As a 1930s husband, I am Very Superior Take the test!

This was fun! Thanks Hipparchia!

visited 7 states (3.11%)
Create your own visited map of The World or try another Douwe Osinga project

Note: states = nations

A Few Updates

Thanks to everyone who visited me on my Valentine’s Day birthday and who linked to me, inviting others to visit. Nick’s Bytes had what seem to be record visits—even more than there are for Too Bad It’s Monday jokes.

I have no word on Tasha or her baby. The only means I have of contacting her is via Home Instead, the company from whom she works. As of their end of business Friday, they had not heard from her. Tasha does have my phone number and I can only hope that she’ll contact me.

Home Instead did send another housekeeper, Sylvia, on Friday. Sylvia did an excellent job, even accompanying me to the store to pick up some have-to-have items: cat food for Alex.

Speaking of Alex, I feel as if I have been neglecting the furball by writing so much of The Muffin Saga. We have had some unusually warm weather here—the present temperature is 59 F—and Alex has been able (and willing) to go out and play. He is outside now and I’ve left the front door open so that he can come and go as he desires. (The open door also airs out the house which has been closed up much too long). I hope Alex gets his fill of catting around outside: tomorrow a much colder and snowy day is forecast.

I thank Matt-Man for this lovely award (for a comment I left on his site):

I am more tired of the primary electioneering since all of the remaining candidates espouse the same philosophy:

The Muffin Saga, Part IX, & a Thank You

Muffin was standing on the futon beside me, licking the perspiration from my face, each time I surfaced into consciousness. I was terribly thirsty. Somehow, with Muffin beside me, I rose from the bed and climbed the steps from my mother’s basement to the kitchen where I drank water—lots of water. Then I staggered down the stairs, climbed back onto the futon, replaced the CPAP mask, and again fell asleep. The process was repeated I don’t know how many times over two and a half days. Each time I returned to consciousness, Muffin was beside me.

It had begun the day after New Year 1998. Since I’d returned to Louisville I had assumed from my Uncle John the responsibility for the care of my 89-year-old Aunt Lill. She had been in and out of nursing homes during the years I had been living in Missouri and Indiana. Uncle John, her youngest and only surviving brother, had arranged for 24/7 care takers in her home from an ever changing group he found through newspaper ads.

I would visit Aunt Lill a couple of times a week, doing her grocery shopping, arranging visits to her doctors, doing her banking, and being with her at times when her caretaker took time off. My relatives, including my mother, also visited her.

There had always conflict between Aunt Lill and the caretakers. Finally I decided that a job description needed to be developed for the caretaker to define duties and expectations on the part of both my aunt and her employee. So on January 2^nd I informed her current caretaker that we would negotiate a job description after I returned from making a trip to the grocery. When I returned to Aunt Lill’s house, I found the woman had packed her car with her belonging and was sitting in it in the driveway. As I got out of my car, she yelled, “Your uncle said I’d be paid under the table. I’m not staying.” She drove away.

I was in a conundrum! I had no caretaker for Aunt Lill. So I began calling agencies listed in the Yellow Pages until I found one who said they could supply a caretaker immediately. The owner, who was also the intake worker, came to my aunt’s house and we signed a contract. I was told that the caretaker would arrive in a few hours. She didn’t.

Through whatever mess up the agency had, over the next three days no caretaker arrived, although I was promised time and time again that one was on the way. Meanwhile, I couldn’t leave my aunt alone, nor could I provide her with adequate care. For example, she would not allow me, whose diaper she had changed fifty or so years before, to change her diaper.

I could find no relatives to help with her care. And, without the CPAP, I wasn’t able to sleep. By the third day I was ill—seriously ill. My mother reluctantly agreed to exchange places with me. When I returned to my apartment in Mom’s basement, Muffin greeted me with obvious joy. Exhausted, I collapsed on the futon.

I have no idea how long I slept, but when I awoke I was shaking and covered in perspiration. Muffin was beside me, licking the perspiration from my face. Muffin stayed at my side. She was always there when I awoke, nursing me with all of the doggy skills she possessed. But my mind wasn’t working. I knew I was ill, but I didn’t know what to do about it. With Muffin at my side, I managed to make it up the stairs, drink water, take Tylenol, and use the bathroom. Muffin never left me.

At some point I located a thermometer in my mother’s medicine cabinet. My temperature was 104 (F). I was getting sicker each day.

By the third day I knew I had to do something. So I staggered to my car and somehow (the medical folks were amazed) drove the four or five miles to a 24-hour emergency medical center. At the center I sat in the waiting room for about an hour and a half before being seen. Of course, I was unconscious during most of the wait.

Within minutes of entering the examining room, I was hooked up to oxygen and an ambulance was called to transport me to hospital. I had an acute case of double pneumonia and was hospitalized for eight days, a remarkably long period I am told.

Meanwhile the care providers finally located someone to stay with Aunt Lill and my mother returned home. Muffin, however, was beside her doggy self. She refused to climb the stairs from my mom’s basement, she refused to go outside, she refused to eat. What she did do was whimper and howl continually. Evidently Muffin, my caretaker, was concerned about me. My mother finally telephoned my wife, who came to her house and calmed and fed Muffin.

When I returned from hospital Muffin greeted me as I imagine the Father greeted his Prodigal Son. And I greeted her as I imagine the Man Who Was Robbed greeted the Good Samaritan.

The Muffin Saga will continue. There are still quite a few Muffin stories to share.

The Muffin Saga

The Muffin Saga, Part I

The Muffin Saga, Part II

The Muffin Saga, Part III

The Muffin Saga, Part IV

The MUffin Saga, Part V

The Muffin Saga, Part VI

The Muffin Saga, Part VII

The Muffin Saga, Part VIII

My thanks to Bradley at The Egel Nest for presenting me with this lovely award:

Short Stuff

Short Memory

Maybe it’s my age or, more realistically, my life-long belief that I can do more than humanly possible, but I forgot how exhausted I was last Friday after my sojourn from the house to run errands. The goal of finishing and posting this evening the latest section of The Muffin Saga isn’t achievable. I was exhausted when I returned from the appointment at the Orthopedic Clinic of the Veterans Administration Hospital. I’m sorry, folks; I hope to have the next section of the Saga posted soon.

Storms

In my post of yesterday I was tempted to write something like this can’t be February; not with the temperature in the 60s (F). Well, the temperature has rapidly dropped and with a cold front colliding with the warm air, destructive storms covered the Southeastern States of the U.S.

This morning as I prepared for the trip to the hospital I listened to the radio and, as folks awakened and noted the damage, the increasing count of those killed by the storms. The first report I heard was fifteen dead; by the time Tasha and I left for the hospital the count was up to forty-five. The latest body count is up to fifty-four, with hundreds injured.

The high school that my niece attends near where my mother now lives is closed, probably for the rest of the week. The storms tore the roof off the main building and devastated the soccer field.

Only strong winds and cold rain have thus far come as far north as I live. However, I understand that there is still the chance for more destructive weather. At the moment the glass in my windows is rattling and I can hear the wind howling outside.

Thank You, Momma Bear

Momma Bear at The Café at the End of the Universe has gifted me with this neat blog award:

Ashes

Today is Ash Wednesday. And I miss officiating a worship service and using ashes to mark a cross on the foreheads of parishioners. But I’ve already written about that in last year’s Ash Wednesday blog post

Remember that you are dust,

And to dust you shall return.

Wednesday Stuff

I’ve not yet gotten around to thanking Penelope Anne at Café at the End of Universe for this neat award:

Thank you, Penelope Anne!

The comments to Monday’s post, LEST WE FORGET: The Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. are quite noteworthy. There is some valid dialogue going on there, which, incidentally, one of the original goals I had for blogger. I, for one, never seek people to agree with my ideas, but I do seek people who willingly express their thoughts. That’s the way the ancient rabbis did theology: talking, debating, disagreeing. They had no bishops to create dogma, no professors to enforce politically correctness. The simply did God Talk, which is what the Greek origin of the word theology means. I really like that.

For a musical break, click over to Carol for Peace and watch the video Hey Hey Nancy addressed to Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi

Tomorrow I have two appointments with the VA medical folks, again at two different locations. I hope the bottled oxygen lasts me while I’m away from home.

Alex still has not been outside. The furball has, however, posted something about the nasty fluffy white water on his blog.

The next part of the Muffin Saga will highlight ways in which Muffin outsmarted me! Because of Thursday’s appointment, I shall most probably post it on Friday.

To end this post, I should like to share a song that I dedicate to everyone who has been up most of the night on the Internet: Virtual Party from the Peter, Paul, and Mary CD, Lifelines Live. Enjoy and smile:

Friday Evening Stuff

Today I received a couple of informative and disturbing emails from acquaintances in Pakistan and Kenya.

My friend from Pakistan wrote:

“The Economist has named Pakistan the “world’s most dangerous place.” We Americans who are living here have known that for a long time. Musharraf pays lip service to the Bush administration while in his own way supporting Islamic extremists…If the truth ever comes out, the assassination of Benazir Bhutto was directly or indirectly the action of the Musharraf régime…We look forward to the day when we finish our work here and are able to return to the U.S.”

My friend in Nairobi, a Kenyan pastor who I met almost ten years ago when he was visiting Louisville, wrote:

“It has been like living in the middle of a civil war…People are frightened and (his wife) worries about our children…Please say prayers for us and for all the people here.”

I set my video camera to automatic and attempted to shoot a movie of Alex’s feeding ritual, which is more complex than a high church liturgy. Unfortunately, the furball and I move around too much in the ceremony and are off screen quite a bit. Perhaps I shall teach Tasha, my VA-supplied part-time housekeeper, to use the camera and try again to capture the feeding dance of the furball.

Speaking of Tasha, today I learned that the VA has OK’d her being here 4-hours-a-day for three days a week rather than the two days a week she has been. That’s wonderful for me, but I am unsure what it says about my declining health.

Alex has blogged about the Iowa caucus—“carcass” according to him—on his blog and seems to have feline insights that we humans lack. You may read his blog post HERE.

It’s about time I began sharing some of the several blog awards I have so graciously been given. So……….

I pass on the The Good Buzz Blog Award to:

• Eternally Curious at Keep You Day Job But You Ought to Write, Too.

• Robin at Robin’s A View from the Penthouse

• Xmichra at Xmichra

Click it, save it, and post it on your blog

with my blessings!

A Christmas Present, Sort of

Do you remember back in July when I requested your input regarding which photograph of Alex to submit in a contest of pet photos? As I later wrote ( I think) one of the two Alex photos I submitted and was chosen to be published in something called the International Library of Photography. Of course, I was advised that I could purchase the book for about the same amount of money I spent on a semester’s worth of theology books when I was in seminary. I did not accept the offer.

However, more recently I was offered a plaque commemorating the photo and, since the price was about what a tank of gasoline now costs, I took them up on the offer. Yeah, I knew the contest was just a set up to sell pet lovers like me stuff, but I succumbed. I am considering the wall hanging a sort of Christmas present to Alex and me.

Below is a scan of the plaque:

I scanned it because, when I attempted to photograph it hanging on the wall, the photos all came out like this:

If you are wondering what I am doing writing a blog at 2:00 a.m., it is because my housemate is still outside catting around. Alex and I went to bed early—about 10:00 p.m.—and were snuggling under the comforter until about midnight when the furball climbed from beneath the comforter and sat on my head , awakening me, and demanding to go outside. Of course I always do as he commands and so I got up and opened the front door, figuring that when Alex discovered how cold it is outside he would give up on his idea of a midnight stroll and we could go back to bed.

Unfortunately, it is not cold outside—the temperature is 48 F—so the furball scampered out and leaped off the porch. I am awaiting his return so I can contentedly return to bed without worrying about the silly cat.

ADDENDUM: 2:57 a.m.

The furball returned home about ten minutes ago after almost three hours of catting around outside and he is now pestering me to go back to bed. I am obeying his command, as usual.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, Part III

Running back and forth to the V.A. Hospital and clinic this week hasn’t allowed me to do much reflecting and serious blog writing. Soooooooooooo, I’ll let the words and graphics of others speak for me today.

But first, my thanks to Penelope Anne/Sassy Sally for this munificent memento:

BREAKING NEWS ALERT

There will be no Nativity Scene in the United State Congress, this year!

· The Supreme Court has ruled that there cannot be a Nativity Scene in the United States capital this Christmas season.

· This isn't for any religious reason; they simply have not been able to find three wise men and a virgin in the Nation's capital.

· There was no problem, however, finding enough asses to fill the stable.

A guy bought his wife a beautiful diamond ring for Christmas. After hearing about this extravagant gift, a friend of his said, "I thought she wanted one of those sporty four-wheel-drive vehicles." "She did," he replied. "But where was I going to find a fake Jeep?"

Two young boys were spending the night at their grandparents. At bedtime, the two boys knelt beside their beds to say their prayers when the youngest one began praying at the top of his lungs.

"I PRAY FOR A NEW BICYCLE...
I PRAY FOR A NEW NINTENDO...
I PRAY FOR A NEW VCR..."

His older brother leaned over and nudged the younger brother and said, "Why are you shouting your prayers? God isn't deaf."

To which the little brother replied, "No, but Gramma is!"

I hope you've enjoyed this Part III of It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.

I shall now capture Alex and return to bed for (another) extended catnap!