Hey Cupcake!

 quickie:

son-in-law Tom has a birthday today.  Born in 1976, you figure the age.

Today in honor, I made cupcakes - chocolate with chocolate icing, a jar of sprinkles is standing by.

Here is the bit.  At 84, today marks the first day in my entire life that I made cupcakes.  Never before.  You'd think that I would have done it earlier.  But, no.  My young life, we never had cupcakes.  We might have a cake - big cake -  or pie - but we just didn't eat / have cupcakes.

So the stone is over.  There are other things I have never done.  Stay tuned,

good-bye and  Happy Thanksgiving

m

 

busy buzy bizzy bucees

Absolutely NOTHING to do with bucees - just thought it fit the title.

This has been a busy couple of weeks.  Frankly, I was much busier when I was teaching.  Every day and minute had a plan and no rest for the wicked.  I'd go home in the evening and still have book work to do - much of which I should have done at school.  But, watching TV at night and keeping the hands occupied was what I did.  Back to now.

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As you may remember in past blugs/blogs my wife was mopping the floor when her feet slid out from under her.  She landed on her side on top of her RIGHT hand.  It broke her pinkie finger.  Now, you might think that the pinkie finger is the best one to break .  You might think that.  I have a different opinion.  Ya see.  (to take a song lyric)  It DON'T matter which one you break.  You are down and out.  Pinkie, Ring, Naughty, Pointer, or the Thumb.  Doesn't matter.  Left or right hand, now that matters.

If you are right handed, you must do everything with the left hand now.

If you are left handed, you must do everything with the right hand now.

It matters.  Try picking your nose with the wrong hand.  Or cutting meat or dishing out potatoes.  Making an obscene gesture doesn't seem to be affected.  Tie your dominant hand to your side for a day.  You'll see.

Broken finger selection is not an option.  When one finger is down, it bothers all the others.  Fingers are connected.  I used to tell my band students, God messed up when he made the ring finger.  It won't work as good as the first two.

Here is the process we journeyed through:  Got her up off the floor.  Saw the pinkie all bent around. Knew we were going to a doctor.  Put the mop away.  Baylor Scott & White has a clinic about  a mile from here, give or take a mile.  Got on the phone to see if she can come there or should we go to emergency room in Temple.  Didn't work.  BS&W has this plan.  You call their number - turns out to be a "main" number - they do all the scheduling for all of their facilities and doctors.  

You CAN'T talk to the local number.  No Way.  Centralize is the wave of the future.  Of course, even that doesn't work immediately.  You have to provide all information:  name, address, date-of-birth, insurance, name of 1st born, if you feel safe at home, what color shirt did you wear to the ball, oh oh oh the list goes on.  I said to the nice lady, "Never-mind, we'll just go down there and walk in."

We did.  

The clinic greeted us nicely and was concerned about the finger.  I was told to wait while the office staff could determine if someone there could work on the finger.  We waited.  There was.  That will be $5.  We went into room.  The provider was a nice young lady - P.A. - not doctor.  she wrapped it up and put a funny brace on it.  Then, it was determined we should move up the medical ladder to one with more specialized knowledge.  Front desk checked the computer.  We had a choice:  wait for 2 1/2 weeks to see someone in Temple  OR  go tomorrow to Killeen.  Wonder which we chose?

Next day, we saw a nice guy in Killeen  - it seems he is a P.A. also - but, he has had experience in this area  to a degree. A bit alarmed he was.  He got on the computer and scheduled us into Temple.  He used a word- can't remember - big long word - expedite.  That's it.  Our appointment was Expedited.  Within a couple of days, Temple Raney Bone and Whatever group saw her.  Learned that her finger splint should never have been used.  They used a device similar to the Chinese torture toy from our years past - it stretched her finger out till xray saw the bone snap into place.  The medical staff was excited and hooped it up just a bit.   A beautiful hand/arm cast was created - in red by choice - we were to come back in 3 weeks to have the cast removed.

Dealing with a spouse who is wearing a cast - red or any color - is not a joy.  Still the right hand is disabled.  It must be kept dry.  Showers and other water things are a major process.  3 weeks passed.  It was a Chinese Torture.  Finally this past Tuesday:  cast came off.  That is sorta fun to watch too.  Finger is somewhat better - still crooked.    Now we start OT.  I suppose they send her to Occupation Therapy so she can get a job in the future.  I figure she needs to learn to drive a truck.  Certainly it is not called PT - because this is only physical therapy.  I'm looking forward to the psychology visits later...surely they will come.

Now, we have several days of OT to enjoy - plus our own personal physical therapy at home, guided by me ( ** an expert ** ) 3x a day.  The pinkie finger looks terrible.  She will never be able to get a hand modeling contract in the future.  That career is gone.  In the meantime, life goes on around here. I had to give some blood and see my cancer urology doctor and get my cancer shot.  The doctor went out of town so the actual appointment has been moved to April - but, still I GOT THE SHOT.  My blood shows that my PSA  is  <.01  They tell me - this is good.   Men:  get your PSA checked.  You want to catch the prostate cancer earlier than I did.   

We went to pharmacy and had the flu and covid shots.  Wife had her annual dermatology visit - all's well there.  Another round of doctor and OT visits come  after Thanksgiving.  Medical must be taking Thanksgiving off.  Must B.

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When I leave the house, I dog-proof certain areas.  Close doors - hide trash - put edibles off tables - etc.   Forgot yesterday one of the bits.  Came home to a bathroom with garbage spread all over the floor.  I called our little Anna to me (a big basset with an enormous bark).  She rounded the corner and saw the bathroom floor.  Immediately, she flipped around and ran to the other room  I still verbally assaulted her.  Won't matter.  She'll forget everything except where the trash can is.

You might say that she forgave me for fussing so loudly.

So that is the way it is.  One little nonsense followed by another.  It doesn't seem that little things will ever let up.  One annoyance after another.  That is life.  One thing leads to another.  I guess it is like:  a door closes and another opens.  but in reverse.  

Have I ever mentioned that black trim has fallen off my car.  I have one piece of trim taped back on the car with bright pink duck tape.  It is certainly pretty.   That trim piece has an electrical component and can't be just set aside.  So my driver's window is taped shut.  Can't use drive-up windows, window won't move.  I bet we look like some backwoods hicks driving around with pink duck tape on the window.  At least carjackers should leave us alone - ducked taped cars don't register high on the "steal" list.

Love ya.  Keep your heads down and open some more doors.  But above all, be sure to keep some pink duck tape in your car trunk.  Ya never know....

mtz    and  ** from above **  definition  Expert: An " Ex "  is a has been.  A " Pert"  [ spurt ] is a drip under pressure. [ Daffynition ]

happy

 I'll make this short.

tomorrow, Nov. 4th, is my 84th birthday.

I'm taking no presents which are valued under $10,000.  Call my lawyer to contribute.

or should it be $20,000?   I'd think anyone dumb enough to just give me 10 K - hey, they'll fork over another 10.  Won't they?

I'll pay the taxes if any.  since this will be a gift under 35k, I believe it is tax free.  You're just too good to me.  

Stones from my mom:

I was born in Tecumseh, Okla.  My mother was the h.s. band director there at that time.  I wonder if she had to miss a football game.

I assume it was a Tuesday, because this date is the date that FDR (Roosevelt) was elected to his 3rd term.  Before then, nobody wanted to be President of the USA more than 2 terms.  Roosevelt went on to  be elected for his 4th term and died in office.   He saddled us with several projects which are still costing us money.  Some think he was responsible for ending the depression.  Others know it was WWII that did it.

Moving on.   born about 5 minutes before midnight...born at home...brother Jim (16 mo old) was standing in his baby bed looking out - watching - learning.  I always figured this warped him somewhat in later life.

for now - one last thing - later as I was turning 5 almost - we were living in Dodge City, Kansas, the 1st time.   My mom was teaching kindergarten in an elementary school.  We lived in an area that went to a different elem.  My mom did not want to pay a baby sitter for that whole year, so she took Clorox and blotted out the 4 on my birth certificate.  She inked in a 1 instead.  Apparently, if you were born by the 1st of November, you could start school = kindergarten.

Yes, she cheated.  The revised birth certificate was presented, and I started kindergarten that year - in the morning - half day classes - I'd be dropped off (dumped) on the school's doorstep.  When noon rolled around, someone transported me to my mom's school, and I was in her afternoon kindergarten class.  Nobody seemed to really care.  I got to go to a full day's kindergarten.  No baby sitter to pay.  All was well.  I always figured this warped me somewhat in later life.

Brother Jim was in the 1st grade at the appropriate building all day, and brother Marshall was in the 4th grade.  I believe Marshall was a year ahead in his schooling too.  Born in January, I don't know how mom was able to pull that off.  I remember nothing from that year except walking UP a long flight of stairs to my mother's classroom everyday.  Her room must have been on the 2nd floor.

Aside note before I close:  It was when I was 5 years old that my father started us on band instruments.  I wanted to play trombone.  He found a tiny trombone which used a cornet mouthpiece and started me.  It wasn't long before I traded back to a cornet with 3 easy valves.

Soooooooooooooo

Happy birthday to me.  84 and still kicking.   I suppose somebody wanted me to live this long for a reason.  Isn't everything done for a reason?  Surely nothing happens per chance.  Surely.

More later.

mtz