Day 10: Pink Explosion

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Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers for more slices of life.

Do you ever see something on the road that just doesn’t belong there? Now I’m not talking about animal carcasses or furniture that has fallen off the truck and landed on the road. Here’s an example of what I’m talking about, there’s a Pepto-Bismol pink explosion on the road into town.

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I’m sure many wonder what’s happened here, but I know the story. This is a slice of life from my neighbor, Dan.

Dan headed into town to fetch several items his wife needed for a recipe. The sun had set, it was dark as there are no street lights along this road. He was tooling along the road (probably trying to remember what he needed at the grocery store) when suddenly, he heard a clunk! and bam! He was afraid that he’d hit an animal. However, he did not stop to investigate. He was on a mission to get these ingredients and return home as quickly as possible.

Time in the grocery store was uneventful. He returned home and resumed his life with no thoughts of that clunk! and bam! Until the next morning . . .

Dan went to get in his truck, but what was all over the side of it? He pulled it out into the

Pink embedded in the tread of the tires.

Pink embedded in the tread of the tires.

driveway to get a better view. Pink paint had sprayed all over the side, on the tires, and under the truck. It didn’t wash away!

He headed to the nearest auto supply store to see if they had some magical way to make the pink go away. He came home with a bottle of very expensive cleaner to begin the process of removing the sprayed on pink paint. Fortunately, he was able to get most of the pink off the sides of the truck. However, the tires and underneath were more of a challenge than he wanted to tackle. They are still sporting their new pink look.

Views from the underside

Views from the underside

Every day Dan drives over the pink explosion on the road. I’m sure he has some choice words running through his mind as he runs over that spot. Every time I pass over the spot, I chuckle to myself while being thankful it wasn’t me and my vehicle who created the explosion.

So the next time you see an explosion of color on the road, remember, someone now has a vehicle sprayed that color in places you can’t even imagine.

 

Day 7: Mental Plans vs. Reality

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Mental Plans for my day:

I had a plan for my Monday. I would get up, leisurely drink my coffee, semi-listen to the Today Show while I posted my slice for the day and begin reading/commenting on other slicers. At one point, I would spend thirty minutes pedaling the bike on the trainer in the garage. Then a shower would be next on my to do list. Partake of an early lunch before heading out spend the afternoon with a third grade team at one of my schools. After school, I would have some more time to read/comment on slices before beginning dinner.

Those were my best laid plans and we all know what comes next, they often go awry.

Reality of my day:

I did drink my coffee leisurely while I semi-listened to the Today Show while posting my slice for the day. Plus I was able to read a few slices, make a few comments. I did get on the bike and begin pedaling, but that is when the day begins to alter.

A phone call from my mother before eight o’clock is never a good thing. “I think I need to go to urgent care. I think I have an abscess and it is hot, oozing, and maybe there’s another place starting,” she tells me.

I did complete the time on the bike and take a shower, but just in case this was not a quick trip, I loaded the car with my materials for the afternoon.

It was 8:50 when we walked in. There were only four others ahead of us in the waiting room. Good sign, I thought. Slowly, people were called back, never to be seen again. I guessed there was another exit. Finally mom is called, it is 9:35.

I continue sitting in the waiting room. The chairs are becoming a hot commodity in short demand. The sounds of the room begin to echo with hacking coughs and endless honking into tissues. I begin to fear for my health. I barely breathe, not wanting to take in the germs that are airborne around me.

I’m watching the clock. I warned mom that if she had not appeared by 11:00, I would call my brother to come pick her up, because I had to leave by 11:00. Finally, 10:45 she reappears with the nurse. She has a prescription that needs to be filled. I’m assessing my time while we make our way to the car. I think I can drop her off at her apartment, take the prescription over to the pharmacy, and still make it to my school by noon. That is what I do.

I spent the afternoon talking about writing and reading with my third grade teachers.

After school, I returned to the pharmacy to pick up the prescription. I delivered the prescription. Mom was concerned the wound is seeping, so I got to examine this gaping hole. I repacked the wound with the packing gauze given to her. Let us be clear, I am not a nurse. I have no idea if I did it right.

I will return this afternoon to check on the wound and the packing. Then we will figure out what to do next.

The reality only resembled my mental plans for a short while yesterday. Once again, I have mental plans for this day, but will they be my reality?

 

 

 

Dreaded Machine Part Deux

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Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers for more slices of life.

Two weeks ago I had my annual mammogram. (read about it here) Two days after the mammogram I was contacted by the clinic to come back for additional films. The voice tells me there seemed to be a slight change. This needed to be investigated by taking additional views and magnification.

What am I to think? Should I worry, I ask the voice who has given me this news. The voice said not to worry, it might just be a natural change. I tell myself, don’t worry, but there is that niggling thought in the back of my mind, what if?

One week after the previous mammogram, I am facing the dreaded machine once again. This time the technician says the films will be sent immediately to the radiologist to read them and decide if more pictures need to be taken or if I’m good to go.

She takes three views. Each one squeezing a little harder than the previous. I return to the waiting area. About ten minutes later a new person appears. She surveys the ladies waiting before announcing that their computers are down. They cannot send the films to the radiologist. She is sooooo sorry, we might have to return for more views, but maybe not. They will call later in the afternoon or tomorrow morning with the results.

I leave. I wait. I wait all day. I wait another day. Finally, two days later an email shows up. There is nothing to be concerned about, this time. That brief moment of time between exams is enough to keep me vigilant and make the appointment every year.

A Fine Line?

Dinner decided. Checked for ingredients. One item needed, which required a trip to the grocery store.

In the car, seat belt on, engine started, ready to leave, but wait! Pocket empty, no cell phone! Quickly I remedy the situation. As I’m climbing back into the car, my husband says,” So you forgot your phone?”

My reply, “I remembered my phone. I had not left yet, so I didn’t forget it.”

“It’s all semantics,” was his response. Which got me wondering as I drove to the grocery store, which was it remembering or forgetting?

Dictionary.com’s third definition of forget says “to leave behind unintentionally; neglect to take: to forget one’s keys.” I would have to argue that I did not leave anything behind.

Their third definition of remember states “to have (something) come into the mind again: I just remembered that it’s your birthday today.” That is exactly what I did. When I noticed that my pocket was empty, the thought came to my mind that my phone was still in the house. 

I think dictionary.com has supported my theory. I didn’t forget, but remembered.

Side note: I could have left the phone at home, because received no calls, nor made any calls in the short time I was gone.

Troubleshooting

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Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers for more slices of life.

Something is not right with my computer and printer. I’m beginning to wonder if they are having a spat and taking it out on me. They are wireless, so I know it’s not the cable causing the problem. They are in the same room, so distance should not be the issue either. I know I need to take one or both to an expert who speaks their language, but I just have not had time to do so. I will probably need to consider that option.

In the good old days, when they were able to chat, I could hit <control P> and seconds later the document printed. I could line up a number of documents, one after another and eventually they all printed.

But one day, as I was happily pressing <control P> I got a message that it was still printing my document. What do you mean? I’m holding the said document! You did print that document. Therefore, since it was “still” printing, my current document had to wait. And wait . . .  and wait. It never printed.

I can solve this issue (so I thought), by deleting the one that says it is printing. It should vanish from the queue, right? It didn’t. It took quite a long time to be deleted. At least fifteen minutes pass and a message appears from the right side saying it can not print my original document (the one that had printed).

Google can you help? I read entry after entry of suggestions to solve this issue. I try a few of the suggestions. However, I never seem to have the same options available that everyone else has on their screens. I learned to live with my limited printing options.

Then the day arrives that tells me the printer is off line. How did it get off line? Once again, Google can you help? I try the suggestions. Once again, I am stymied by the language and ability to locate the right screens.

I turn off the printer and unplug it. I wait. I reboot, same results. You are off line. My final attempt is to shut down the computer. I wait. I turn it on and it prints. Yay! Victory! (sort of) It still won’t accept several print jobs and I always get the message it can’t print, when in fact it did print. My computer needs a check up. I think it has something to do with spooling.  It’s just so hard to leave it someplace for a period of time, but I think that time is getting closer every day. Why can’t they just get along and do their job? (sigh)

 

 

 

Knife Tale

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Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers for more slices of life.

Forty years ago there was a wedding shower given after school one day. If I remember correctly, the gifts were to be kitchen tools I wish I had. I can’t really remember any of them, except for one item.

It was a very thin blade knife with a plastic brown handle. I think it said it was a fruit and vegetable knife. I’d never seen a knife quite like it before. I wondered how I’d use it. For a long time, it sat in a drawer with other kitchen implements.

One day I decided to peel a grapefruit, but I wanted to get under the white pith of the peel, but not cut too deeply into the fruit.  As I searched for a tool in my kitchen drawer, I discovered the wedding shower knife. Hmmm, maybe this will work, I thought. It worked like a charm. It was the perfect tool to peel and segment a grapefruit!

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This knife is forty years old. Look closely at the photo on the right, see where the missing piece of metal broke away.

Year after year, it did the job. However last year a small piece broke off where the blade meets the handle. Now the blade seems a little wobbly when I cut. I don’t know what I will do when it finally breaks apart. I guess I will be haunting the kitchen implement stores looking for a replacement of a knife that was given to me forty years ago. Wonder how long it will last (assuming I can find one).

Never Again! (Maybe?)

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Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers for more slices of life.

Circumstances required me to do some grocery shopping outside of my normal day. No big deal, I thought. I will just run in and get what I need. Ha! That was a dream.

Negotiating the course was tricky. Carts and people blocked pathways through the aisles. I peered down the aisle wondering, do I really need something here? Unfortunately, the answer was usually yes.

Not only were the stores filled with shoppers, but they echoed with the wailing of small children who did not want to be shopping and I’m sure they needed a nap. Their squalling made me want to cover my ears. By the time I had gathered all my necessary supplies, I had a pounding headache.

Finally the car was loaded, I sank into the driver’s seat wishing I could just close my eyes and rest, but there were items needing refrigeration in the back of my car. Onward I pressed, vowing to NEVER go grocery shopping on a Saturday again!

Thankfully, most of the time I can select another day since I am mostly retired. I’m sorry for those who work all week and that is the only day you have to shop. One day you too, will be able to abandon Saturday shopping.