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Friday, May 30, 2008
Hello, Friday. Off to California tomorrow. Tonight, drop off the wretched beasts at Jean's. Return home. Think about packing. Spend probably a bit too much time thinking about the Staff Appreciation Day, which is now going to be my "Paddling on the Reservoir" day after all, majority rule not meaning too much when the man who signs the cheques makes up his mind. Don't forget your passport. Don't forget to get some mighty Canadian money changed. Another performance review. This time I wasn't entirely convinced beforehand that my number was watch, this time'll be the one where I do get the "here's your hat, what's your hurry?" speech.
Crude. Crass. Silly. Three reasons why I'm hooked on "Reno 911".
See yez all after June 6th. By the way, the bees are back in town. So far I'm unstung.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Jane, you eeeediot. Had my 75th platelet donation cancelled midway this morning when my hgb and hematocrit levels were found to be "stupidly low." For the last month I've been quite happy to sleep as long as possible, rest frequently, etc., but never drew a connection between sloth and iron.
Now I have to go to my beloved GP, get a blood req., go to a lab, get blood tested, have results sent to the nervous bunnies at Cdn. Blood Services, and wait wait wait until they proclaim me once again fit enough to give blood.
All of which could have been avoided if I'd just remembered to take a little ferrous gluconate every day. Ding. Bat.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
And you were betrayed by the sun
Rising as it did after that day
The earth spinning on, oblivious

But remember: time is a ribbon
and though I be many years gone,
I am always alongside you
furled, unforgetting.

Look again: it was only your world
ending that day
Not the other.

Monday, May 26, 2008
Rummaging for crumbs.

Feeling a smidge better about self now. Sad.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The miracle of middle-age is that I now enjoy chores that as a child I would only have done at gunpoint. I went up to Jean and Tyke's on the weekend and requested a session of rock-picking out in the field. This, after Jean and I had dug up and planted trees and seedlings for a couple of hours. Strenuous physical labour and Jane used to have reverse polarity, but now, man, I get so fascinated by the rocks themselves. The three of us picked up at least a tonne's worth, judging by the truck's protesting suspension. Yep, add to all the shouldas a degree in Geology. Jane pick up rock, smile, smile.
Stupid People. Last night I went to put some gas in the Mazdad, driving up to a pump island that featured a regular gas pump and a diesel pump. Raised to be considerate, I edged my car up enough that a diesel driver would be able to access the pump behind me. As I finishing gassing up, I noticed a car pulling in behind me. Then the driver, a middle-aged woman, asked if I could move my car up so she could get to the pump. I frowned, said nothing, and she repeated her request. Well--oh, what the hell, maybe her diesel tank's in an odd position. I got in the car and pulled ahead, then quickly skittled into the station before they thought I was a gas-and-dasher, and also before the woman could ask me to move any farther ahead. Inside the station, the confused attendant kept asking me what pump I was at, and how much gas I'd bought. Because the woman was using the SAME PUMP as I had used, before I had paid for my gas. Don't know you're supposed to let the other driver pay for gas and then get in her car and drive away before you use the same pump? STUPID.
Moving your car up for such a bonehead? ALSO STUPID.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Snout, newly luxated. The dainty proboscis is out of joint over the most trivial of things--I did a lot of research and a little legwork on an activity for the company's annual staff wingding, finding an event that meshes with our sponsorship of an Olympic rower, viz., voyageur canoe races on the reservoir. Yes, I KNOW there's a difference between rowing and paddling, shut up, but the 8-man sculls weren't available. This idea had the advantages of easy transportation to and from the site, an element of competition, that freaking old teamwork when we'd paddle together, having fun and exercise in a gorgeous park setting, no time constraints and impressive cost-efficiency.
I was stomped flat by committee colleagues as they raced to choose another water-themed option: a motorcoach ride to the Kananaskis River, a one-hour raft ride on level 2 water (suitable for 4 yrs. of age and older), and a catered dinner at a nearby lodge. The cost of the transportation alone is $1900.
I know why I'm all a-sulk: because it keeps me from thinking about a seriously ill family member, whom I'll be seeing two weeks from tomorrow, if all goes well. Also, I'm kind of finding my sulky old bitch of a self kind of funny: especially when I think out complicated ways of avoiding Float Day. Like any of it freaking matters. Hoo hah.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Poker 'n' Dogs was Saturday's theme. I headed up to help out Jean and Tyke at a saddle club event called a Poker Rally or some such. Riders were dealt a hand of cards before setting out on the trail; they followed a scenic route that included a river crossing, with stops along the way to play their hand. Those arriving back at the fairgrounds would have their scores tallied and be fed hot dogs, beans and potato salad. I was the wiener wench, Tyke was the croupier, as it were, and Jean rode clean-up detail on the course. I saw a lot of beautiful horses throughout the day, and met a lot of really nice people. Then we returned to the farm to take care of the other dogs, the "six-pack"--tiring them out with a bike ride and yard romping. The perfect evening included watching the French-Canadian gem of a film, "The Grand Seduction of Dr. Lewis." See it. Jane has spoken.
His nerves are like a shield of steel... Sunday a.m. I was lazing in the condo with the totally thrashed dogs, when my older brother called. He was in town for a lacrosse tournament and oh, by the way, he'd been in a big car accident (both vehicles pretty much toast) caused by a speeding Acura T-boning his van--and could I give him and a couple of players a ride back to Red Deer? Or could I lend the Mazdad to his wife so she could drive back to Red Deer (she was the scheduled anaesthesiologist), and ride to Red Deer in the bro's pick-me-up trock? Why, sure.
Not once during the day did I hear my brother grouse about the accident. He gave details, but only when asked. I would have been a raving virago had my vehicle been totalled--but all the bro cared about was his lacrosse team's performance. I guess a couple of decades of cutting into living bodies, etc., tends to give you steadier than normal nerves. Mad props I give him, by God.
I thought I was a fairly competent rider of bikes. Then I tried both of the bro's recumbent bikes. No longer could I use my er um ballast to help push the pedals--nope, this was an all-quadriceps special. Fun, yes, but holy schnikey what a workout. Now, of course, I want a recumbent bike. I have been challenged.