Fran's Ramblings

Jewels along the way

Some trips are easy and wonderful and restful and invigorating and refreshing.

This isn't one of those trips.

Understand, I wouldn't miss seeing the kids for the world, and it's been FABULOUS hanging out with them, but so far, aside from packing Ryan up which really had to happen today and was the only thing that wasn't flexible in our schedule, there's only one thing we planned on doing that we've done.

One.  Thing.

We went to Sonic and had bacon green-chili cheeseburgers.  And they were JUST as good as we knew they'd be.

Of course they forgot Ty's fries and my onion rings, but hey, this is that sort of trip.  One or two jewels in a long string of dammittohell.  Wolves and pronghorns and green-chili bacon cheeseburgers and good steaks interspersed with dead trucks and unpleasant hotels and nasty wind and screwed up food orders.

At this point we just shrugged.  It's par for this particular course, but w're gonna play it through to the end.

Ryan said he'd ride home with us if we promised the car wouldn't die.  Lillian agreed -- the CAR won't die.  No promises on the truck.  He tried to backpedal, but no, once the words are spoken, it's a done deal.  The CAR won't die. 

Well, it had better not!

And the hits just keep on coming.

We had the truck packed up, and we don't want to drive a 3/4 ton diesel truck packed to the gills with mattresses and boxes all over town, Ty's getting tired of driving and besides, tomorrow he and Liv have to go back to work, so Lillian and I decided we'd rent a car for the rest of our stay here, something to run around in, but big enough to hold all five of us.

And we decided we deserved a treat, darn it!  So we called Enterprise and we reserved a luxury car, one we wouldn't normally drive, a big ol' expensive honker to run around in like we're pampered.   Great, they say, see you at 3:00.  Cool, we say, we'll be there.

So we did our running around and the kids dropped us off at the rental place a little after 3.  As we're walking up to the door, we're not seeing a spiffy vehicle.  One smallish four-door Hyundai and a couple of SUV/mini-van type things.  Not auspicious.

We were right.  They'd been trying to call us but we left them our home number, not our cell phones.  No luxury vehicles available, sorry.  We could either take the Hyundai or a Kia mini-van thing. 

Part of me wanted to howl, part of me shrugged and said "what did you really expect on this trip?", part of me wanted to laugh. 

Instead I became hostile and cold, and went out to look over the selections.  We ended up wtih the Kia at a discount because they were so unhappy with their performance, and Lillian had explained some of the disasters on this trip so they really wanted to make things right -- although not enough to find us a luxury car from one of the other Enterprise locations, you understand.

Oh well, whatever.

It runs fine, it's big enough to hold all of us comfortably, and it gets out of its own way.  It's in no way luxurious, but it's a decent little vehicle.

So when I finally connected with Andi Marquette about getting the books signed (after a SPECTACULAR dinner -- like I said, jewels along the way!), we agreed that she didn't need to brush up against our bad-trip karma, and we'd just send her the books and she'd ship them back. 

But we had a lovely long talk about her series, I told her about our trip, and honestly, I can't wait to meet her in person.  She says the third in the New Mexico series is getting a little edgier, and I think that's going to be grand.  And she's such a hoot, I was laughing all the time I was talking to her.  So boo that we're not going to get to meet her until she comes up to the shop to sign, which she has totally promised to do, but yay that she's just as wonderful on the phone as she is in her books and emails.

Tomorrow, we're supposed to go take pictures of some of the cool houses in the metro area, perhaps buy me some shoes, get some car toys to make the trip home easier, and maybe, just maybe, see about doing something about my computer, although I'm not sure what I want to do.  I just feel so betrayed by it, which is totally unreasonable, but that's how I feel.  Right now I don't want another laptop -- it'll just die on me like the others.  I guess I'm having abandonment issues.  With my computer.

I know.  Irrational. 

But nothing about this trip has made sense so I don't see why I have to be the adult and make sense! 

Bah.

I'm focusing on the jewels on this trip, though.  Okay, I'm trying to, anyway.  Because when things go right, they hit it out of the park.  So that's what I want to remember.

The day with the kids

So, we're here.  YAY!

Remember the rough sheets?  Yeah, I'm such a princess, you have NO idea, and if the sheets are rough, I don't sleep.  So right now, I'm exhausted.  But hey, as we all know, I'm good at not sleeping!  Still, I wish it hadn't happened.

We spent a good day with the kids.  Dru suggested a great restaurant, and we did breakfast there.  It was a little taste of New Mexico.  We were MOST happy. 

And then we just did some running around. 

Yes, my laptop is dead.  Motherboard, maybe?  I have no idea, but wise geek heads are nodding solemnly and talking about replacing things versus getting a new computer, and yes all my stuff can be saved and transferred (with narrowed eyes and stern expressions about backing up, so go back up all your stuff RIGHT NOW, and then you can thank me for taking your scolding.  That's just the kind of friend I am.) but I need to learn Vista if I'm getting a new computer, which is making me pause for a bit.  I liked XP just fine, and I don't see why I have to change if I don't want to, but sometimes these things slip out of your control.

We went to Goodwill and found me a very soft sheet to go on the hotel bed, and right now it's up in the hotel dryer, hopefully drying. 

Although when I get up there, it's possible it'll be on the floor because the person before me left all his clothes (and yes, they were men's clothes and they still smell bad) in the dryer.  I moved them out and that's perfectly good etiquette as far as I'm concerned.  I put them on the washer and dryer so they didn't spill onto the floor, but move them out I did.  We'll see if he's understanding or a dick.  Could go either way.  The way this trip has gone, my money's on dick, but hey, I've been pleasantly surprised as well. 

We ran around and did some other shopping, and yes I've taken pictures, but we'll have to wait until the computer issue is resolved before you get to see them.

Tomorrow we pack Ryan up, and we're going to make sure everything is double wrapped because as I understand it, we're going to be heading back into rain when we ge to Washington.  Go figure.  What are the odds.  Yep. 

And then we'll see how things go.  Ty and Liv have the day off to help, and we'll spend it with them.  After that, there's no telling.  There are lots of people here we should see, and we really want to, but time is not on our side and after the way this trip has gone, my social skills are lacking.

Still, we're hoping to meet up with one of our favorite authors, Andi Marquette, to get her to sign her second Albuquerque mystery for the shop.  Not many people can pull off a lesbian Latina cop in a New Mexico setting, I don't think, but man, Andi's good.  It'll be fun to meet her.

So anyway, that's where we're at.  There are loud people all around us, and I'm a bit concerned about my laundry, but all in all, this has been a great day. 

Wish me luck, both on the laundry front and on the sleep one!

Journey's end. . .for now

Truck in, cheerfully attended to while we had huge breakfasts to warm us in the cold winter air.

Hours spent in dismal and dark room, reading much, watching videos, napping. 

Check out, waiting in the lobby, being an attraction for those passing through.

Truck ready early and for less than quoted!  Yay! 

Herds and herds of pronghorn, grazing, sleeping, playing.

Red asphalt faded to dusty rose and mauve in the high desert sun and wind.

Hawks sitting on a fence, surveying their kingdom.

Driving forever without seeing a tree, not one, not even a small one.  It's oddly beautiful but nowhere I could possibly ever live.

A wolf, stalking ducks in a pond, just a quick glimpse but such a thrill.

Chased in a grocery store in Laramie, hounded by an old man in an electric cart who shouted at me, calling me names, all because I wouldn't talk to him.  The locals thought it was cute.  Wyoming terrifies me.

Fog in a heavy blanket, sitting on rocky mountains and trees, finally trees, slowing us down but incredibly pretty.

Snow-break fences still holding back eight-foot drifts, spread across valleys and hills, guarding the roads.

Heading south, watching a storm pace us, wondering if the snow will catch us before we arrive, but we're safe.

Big city traffic once more, and we're out of practice but skills return quickly.  Toll roads and HOV lanes and cross-lane cutting, all is normal once again.

Cruising up and down the street the hotel is on, not seeing it anywhere near the others, only to find it tucked away in an old building, huddled like a grandmother in the corner.

Big room, smells decent, but. . .no refrigerator.  Who knew?  Plans change in a heartbeat, and all perishables go to the kids' house.

Catching up around the dinner table, green chili and chicken, photographs and stories, comfortable as if we've never been apart.

But tired, so very tired.

Back to the hotel, still grembly about no fridge, the neighbors are watching TV, can't quite hear the show.  It's late, don't they know?  Or do they just not care?

Rough sheets, I may not sleep well.  Finicky, that's me, high maintenance and hard to please, I know this. 

Still, we're here, the kids have taken time off to spend with us, we'll be okay. 

Life is good.

Journey, so far

Late beginning, but a silvery dawn lends magic.

Startled mule deer in a snowy hillside, staring at cars racing past, wondering at the rush.

Frozen lakes shimmering white and grey, with hints of water moving underneath, and snow spitting at the windshield defiantly.

A bald eagle soaring over a river, searching.

Then the sun bursting into the cab, making missing sunblock almost a problem, but a pleasant one.

For the first time in a long time, tumbleweeds plastered to barbedwire fences, longing to cross the road.  One breaks free, only to find a crushing end under a semi.

Dust devils dancing in the distance and wind that is relentless.

A lone tree, standing sentry in the wind, high atop a solitary bluff.

Rocks like fingers thrusting up out of the ground, clawing their way free.

Multiple free-range sweaters, many guarded by a lone llama.  Why is that?

Singing, singing, laughing, loving sharing the sights, singing, singing.

We'd forgotten the splat of bugs on the windshield.  The yellow guts stay a long time.

Ground squirrels trying to cross the road?  Or trying to catch a car? 

Walking with the Sinclair dinosaurs.

Why are all the truck stops on the other side of the road?  Don't folks going east need them too?  But it's fun to see Flying J and Loves again.

Windmills.  Everywhere.  Huge and white and slowly turning, churning out great power, using the blasting wind.

Pronghorn antelope grazing in the meadow just over from some cows, everyone getting along.

In the distance, mountains in a faded silk screen on the sky, almost invisible in the distance, and yet beautifully there.

Hillsides that seem to be covered in velvet, with purple and yellow embroidery accents.

Magpies sitting on the fences, looking for all the world like plastic bags snagged there.

Racing shadows stretching long before us as we run into the evening.

No service, no service, no service, the constant refrain through Utah.  Exits there turn their backs on those who are not a part of the group.

The Outsider's Inn? How can anyone freel welcome there?

Off-gassing hotel room but steak that is beyond tender and flavorful.

Dead power steering pump.  Serpentine fan belt dangling.

Sunday in Wyoming, no one works.

Expensive bad food, expensive hotel, wind blowing cold off the snows in the mountains as we haul bags from the dead truck.

My computer refuses to turn on.  It, like the signs on the exits in Utah, has no service available to me.

Lillian cracked a molar, and our dental coverage is two States away, mocking us.

And so we wait, hoping tomorrow brings good news, missing seeing the kids, making the best of. . .

You just know

that we're going to forget something important, don't you? 

Of course we will, and there will be grumbling and grousing and kvetching.  Because that's the nature of the beast.

BUT we have the truck back in great running order (and I'm going to continue to believe that, thankyouverymuch), we're mostly packed except for those last minute things you just CAN'T pack in advance, and we're excited about hitting the road and seeing the kids.

So for now, I'm off to try to get some sleep so that I can be useful along the road.  I plan on having the camera handy so I can take LOTS of pictures -- note to self, remember to pack the doohickey that allows me to download pictures and not leave it curled up on the futon -- but I can't take pictures if I'm sound asleep.

Of course I'll be like the kid in the commercial, the little guy with his face all scrunched up, not sleeping because they're going to, where is it, Disneyland or someplace and he  can't sleep because he's too excited.  Yeah, that's gonna be me.  I can see it. 

Yes.  Of course I admit it.  Sometimes I'm five.  So what's your point, huh?

Anyway we're as ready as we're gonna be.

And there's something kinda cool at the beginning of a trip.  It's an adventure with all kinds of possibilities, and there's magic and wonder ahead.  You know there are things you're going to see and do that you could never prepare for, and there's anticipation and hope and wiggly potential. 

Lillian and I travel together well, we discovered that early on in our relationship.  And we do love road trips, so this is going to be great fun.

Have a lovely weekend, and we'll be in touch!

Packing consternation

Well, if you read yesterday's comments, you know where we stand on the truck.  We'll know tomorrow, but that leaves us kind of dithering.

I mean, we leave day after tomorrow, one way or the other, but it's the "way" that's causing the headaches.  So we're kinda stalled.

I don't know how to pack.  I don't mean literally, of course I know how to pack, but not knowing which method of travel we'll be using has me standing in the middle of the room, blankly looking around like I've never even SEEN this room before. 

Airlines.  Weight and  size restrictions. Carry-ons and check-ins.  Will I remember to take my knife out of my purse?  I sure don't want to lose it, it was a present and it's spiffy.  Or either of the nail files, which were also presents, and besides, I'm finicky about my nail files and these fit the bill perfectly.

And there are some things that need to get to Denver, but they can be shipped.  Still, I don't want to pay for postage if we can just haul them down.  So they're packed up, ready to ship if we have to, but it's still disconcerting.

Ty wants me to bring pictures.  He realizes there are things he never got to ask my mom, so now he wants to ask me before he forgets and the stories are all gone.  I think that's incredibly far-sighted of him, but I brazenly offered to bring down photo albums.  Which is fine if we're driving, they're all tidily packed up in a box, but it's a BIG and HEAVY box, so if we're flying, I'm going to have to open it up and cull out the special photos.  Except I don't exactly know which ones those are.

Packing.  Never fun under the best of circumstances. 

I'm doing laundry right now, because unless you have a superstar's closet, there are a finite number of clothes you own that you're willing to wear, and so the jeans I've worn all week need to be clean now.  Although I guess I can do laundry at the hotel. 

So there are some clothes we know we're going to take regardless of method of transportation, and those will be easy enough to pack up. 

Four open suitcases of varying sizes, all holding different things.  Clothes, books, photos.  Something of Lou's we want to give the kids. 

And everything's going to be covered in cat fur because the kitties are ecstatic over new places to play in, fun things to play with, new things to smell!  They think it's a party.  They're playing Thunderkitty through the house.  We've gotta remember to close the bedroom doors to keep them out while we're gone.  I don't EVEN wanna think about what they might do otherwise.

And bless his heart, when Ty heard about the truck problem, he immediately went into overdrive, concocting five different plans to "fix" things in the space of a couple of hours, each plan more complicated than the last.  We finally had to stop him and tell him to trust us.

He didn't want to do that.

See, he's reached that age -- and I remember it myself -- when he just doesn't understand how his parents could have SURVIVED as long as we have without him to explain things, take care of things, organize us.  Never mind that we've been doing this much longer than he has, he still felt the need to take over, make things right.

We almost Had Words about it.  We might yet.

But I do remember thinking the same thing about my mom, how she just didn't understand, and if she'd just listen to me, do things the way I told her she should, it would all be okay.   Never mind that she'd fought in a World War, had lived on her own for years, had driven across the country by herself more than a couple of times.  If she'd just pay attention. . .

Yeah.

There's a special hubris that comes from being 20-something and smart.  Sometimes it gets better, sadly all-too-frequently it doesn't.   I learned.  I hope he does.

But it doesn't change the fact that I'm still going to be running around like a wildebeest tomorrow after work, doing all the things that I'll see from that vantage point that I could be doing tonight but didn't.  In addition to doing whatever needs doing that can only be done tomorrow night.

Depending on how we're traveling. 

I'd sure like to take my own pillow, though.

So if you don't hear from me until Saturday, don't be surprised.  In fact, it may be as late as Sunday, depending on how things shake out. 

But darn it, no matter what, it's gonna be fun!

You laugh, but I'm serious!  This is going to be fun because we're both so jazzed about seeing the kids, and about getting out of town, even if it's just for a couple of days.  Packing and travel issues notwithstanding, this is going to be a blast!

 

Automotive fixes

Our truck's been in the shop for over three weeks now.  This is the truck we need to bring Ryan back, so it's kinda important. 

And we've been getting some interesting messages from the guys doing the work.  Understand, this is a national chain we went to, not some guy dinking around in his back yard. 

First was, "a sensor blew out", which was bad, but wait, we can fix it along with the other sensors that went when the first one blew.

Okay.  Cool.  Expensive sensor, though.  Still, okay.

Then the transmission was the problem.  Because of the faulty sensor, we lost fourth gear.  Now we're in big bucks.

But we need the truck, she's a real work horse, and the old girl's got a lot of life left, so we bit the bullet and got a new transmission.  Not pretty, but there you go.  Although we did debate putting off fixing her, flying down to Denver, renting a truck instead and just doing things that way.  But no, we're gonna need two functional vehicles, especially with Ryan here, so it's best to get her fixed.  Enter one new transmission.

Okay.  Ouch, but cool.

So it's in -- yay -- and. . .wait.  It doesn't work. 

Well, that sucks.  But we've already paid for it, and what are we gonna do?  If the new transmission doesn't work, it's pretty much a safe bet we're not driving her home, much less to Denver.

So they dive back in, tinker around and YAY, it's FIXED!  No really, it's fixed this time!

Except. . .it's not working.  Again.  No idea why, it should be really, it should.  Hang on, we're almost there, it's bound to be something small. 

And we wait.  Getting more and more anxious because this is the truck we need, after all, and moving day's getting closer and closer.  But we trust them, they're national with a good rep.

And it's fixed. 

No, really!  Seriously, honest-to-god fixed, pinky swear and all, it's fixed and it runs, you can come get it, huzzah, it's done! 

Which is when we went to pick it up, yesterday.  Cutting it a bit fine there, boyos!

And we had our lovely jaunt in the country, the good Mexican food, the reminiscences.  It was nice.  And the truck purred.  She was smooth and sleek and quiet and beautiful. 

So we went back to pick up the car and go home.  Pulled into the parking lot and I got into the car, getting ready to follow Lillian in the truck.  And she waves me over. 

She puts the truck in reverse, and there's this clunk I hear clear over in the car, and the truck shudders back.  Nothing smooth or easy there!  She does it again, goes from Drive to Reverse, and clunk/shudder!  Once more.  Same results.

So she sighs, puts it back in a parking space, picks up the paperwork, her keys, adds a note about what it's doing, and stuffs the whole mess back into the key-dropoff slot.   Grrr.

We sigh, come home, debate flying out and renting a truck anyway, decide to wait and see.

And we got a call today, there was a thingamajiggie or whoseewhatsit or something, and it got gummed up, but it's all cleared out, really a small thing, nothing serious, something easily overlooked.  But it's fine now.  Honest!  Pinky-swear and everything.

So we go back tonight, we pick it up, she drives Baby Truck home, I'm following in the car, it could have been last night except that we're not filled with excellent Mexican food, and we stop at the grocery store.  We don't want to buy groceries just days before we have to clean out the fridge, but sometimes you just gotta, y'know?

And. . .clunk.  Shudder.

No change.  Nothing's different.

We talk about taking it back right then, we talk about taking it back first thing tomorrow morning, we talk about taking it to Denver and finding someone from this particular chain to look at it and see if THEY can figure out what their cohorts have missed. 

Mostly we decide to sleep on it. 

But what a serious pain this is.  What does it take for someone to do a good job and do it right the first time?  And make sure everything works right?

Now, in their defense, the clunk/shudder doesn't seem to happen all the time.  But darn it, for big bucks, it shouldn't happen at all.  Especially if someone takes pride in their work!

So we shall see what the morning brings, but it's just a little disappointing. 

One small slice

Update on things past:  Dear Customer may have cracked a bone in her other ankle, which is bad.  We're still waiting to hear. 

And Dear Customer's husband is a lawyer.  'Nuff said.

We went to dinner tonight at one of our favorite out-of-the-way restaurants, El Camino in Enumclaw.  Let me tell you, if you're in the area and you want some seriously good food at really reasonable prices, this is the place to go!  It's a small taste of New Mexico, and sadly, they're not doing as well as we'd like.  Business is way down.  So if you're in Enumclaw, go have lunch or dinner there.

Besides, they're right next door to the home of a sweet shop that is the home of Snoqualmie Ice Cream, and may I just say that the Jack Daniels ice cream and the Bailey's ice cream is WELL worth the drive!  It's almost gelato richness, it's that good. 

Of course it's not someplace we can go much any more, since it's the focal point for pretty much everything we're not supposed to have, but that's not the point.   The point is, of course, that it's yummy.

And it was such a great drive out that way.  It was a beautiful evening, Mt. Ranier was clear and sharp, the snow reflecting in the sunlight, the trees making dark gores in Ranier's skirts.  Trees are blooming -- ask anyone with sinus problems or allergies! -- there are dandelions liberally scattered over meadows, and it was just gorgeous.

One of the things that made me laugh out loud was when we drove through some of the farms.  There are lots of big working farms out that way, horse and cattle and sheep farms.  They've got the white rail fences and reed-encircled stock ponds and drooping willow trees, straight out of novels or paintings you never really look at because they're so cliche'd. 

But when you drive past with the windows down, like we did, you also get the smells.  Not just of the flowers and the trees and the budding bushes.  We got some serious infusions of manure.  Especially by the cow and dairy farms. 

And Lillian turned to me and grinned and said, "Hey, we're on our way to El Paso!" since there are some huge dairy farms between Cruces and El Paso, and the smell was pretty much the same, minus the sagebrush and dust.  And I did, I laughed with delight.  Who knew there could be such joy in the smell of cow shit?

I've missed it.  I hadn't realized how much.  I've forgotten a lot of country smells.  I've gotten used to the smell of diesel and exhaust, of asphalt and concrete, of rotting garbage and clashing perfumes.  I've forgotten just how incredibly healthy and oddly hopeful the smell of manure in the sun is.

Lillian and I talk all the time about moving to the country, and partly it's because we've missed the smells. 

And the quiet.  Cars race past our bedroom window, and we're sincerely looking forward to a summer in some hopeful future without the incessant sound of tinny music coming from an SUV selling ice cream.  Not even an old-fashioned ice cream truck but SUVs now.  The magic is gone.  It's all economics, I do understand that, but it seem so cynical and somewhat dangerous to buy frozen goodies from a Suburban somehow.

I'm not sure there's a unifying theme to this post unless it's a longing for one small slice of the past, not all of it, just one little bit.  I wouldn't want to go back to the days when I had those smells and sounds around me all the time.  It wasn't as much fun as I remember, I know it wasn't because things never are, and memories are twisty, frequently treacherous things. 

And I know that moving to the country won't solve anything either, it'll just change the annoyances and irritations to something else.  But that doesn't change the fact that we're ready to live in the country, or that once in a while it's kind of nice to get lost in a little slice of nostalgia.

Especially if the nearby town has a great Mexican restaurant and an ice cream parlor where the owner goes out of his way to pack your pint personally, and he remembers who you are.

Better and better

And I am feeling much better, thank you all who were asking.

Yogurt with active cultures to reacquaint my digestive tract with the necessary bacteria has helped immensely, although some of the gurgling going on is mighty impressive.

We won't talk about the accompanying flatulence, but be glad today was a lovely warm day so I could open the windows in the house.  'Nuff said.

And honestly, for those who were wondering, when things get bad for me, I am helpless before the Force that is Lillian who insists I get proper medical care.  She's dragged me, protesting albeit weakly, to the emergency room when needs be.   And that's as it should be.  I'd do the same for her, except of course she never needs it.

But things are looking much, MUCH brighter -- and more solid -- today, and I actually ate a complete meal, which was pretty darned spiffy. 

And so, with thoughts of sugarplums. . .well, okay, not sugarplums, but steak and eggs. . .dancing through my head and gurgly tummy, I went shopping.

Online, since I didn't want to subject everyone around me to the whole flatulence thing.  Family's one thing, but strangers take a dim view of such things, and I understand.

One of the things I lost in one of the moves I made, probably the one from Minnesota, was that I lost a deck of divination cards I really liked.  They're the Celtic Tree Oracle cards (and no, of course I didn't buy them from Amazon, I'm nowhere close to forgiving them, and besides, we have a little online place we prefer to go to -- Sacred Mists) and Lillian did discover that Sacred Mists had the deck in stock.

I waffled a bit -- yes, I'd loved them before, but times change, I changed, what if what if what if -- and I dithered and fussed.  Procrastinated and couldn't make up my mind.

So I went online and picked up some candles and was looking at them again, and the next thing I know, Lillian's bought them for me. 

Apparently it's time for a new deck to come to me, and I have to say, I'm pretty tickled, all things being equal.  I've read tarot for, well hell, must be just under thirty years now.  I lost my favorite deck to maliciousness, and I've since found different decks that tell folks different things, but this particular deck is the only one I've ever found that I can use on me.  All the others tend to tell me what I want or expect to hear.  The tree cards don't, and I love that.

So things are looking up on lots of different fronts.  My health is improving and cards I've been missing are coming home. 

And the sun was shining! 

Unpleasant excitement

Things are still not right in my digestive world.  Without getting too graphic, let's just say that Imodium is useless and at this point I'm seriously considering simply pureeing all my food in lots of water and just flushing it.  Why waste time?  Besides, it would be less of a nuisance.

Still, I managed to get to work both yesterday and today.  I know, it's Sunday, my day off, but Marie's mom had surgery, so of course she had to be there.   Things are going quite well for her, though, so Marie will be back in no time.

And I'm glad I was there today. 

As many of you know, the shop sits on the side of a hill, so the sidewalk slopes past the entryway.  That means that there's kind of a wedge shape where the sidewalk meets with the steps into the shop.  It's a small, tricky thing, and it's painted yellow to remind people to be cautious.

No one really notices the yellow paint, and after the winter, it's faded. 

Anyway, we had one of our long-time customers hurry in from the street, and she stepped just wrong, kind of where the street just meets the step but is a little raised, and down she went.  Hard.

We heard the screaming from inside, it was so loud it was almost unreal.  She broke her ankle.

Fortunately, one of our authors was there and he used to be a doctor -- do you ever really stop?  but he doesn't practice any more, anyway -- and he rushed to her side.  The doctor's wife hustled out to help, she's used to emergencies, and she went to tell our customer's husband (who was parking the car) what had happened.

Bill called 911, I stayed with the customers who were inside, and it seemed to take forever, the way these things do, but eventually we had First Response and and ambulance there, the customer was soothed, her ankle splinted, and she was taken off for X-rays.

And the poor thing, bless her, had had to stay on our front steps through it all, and let me tell you, that may be almost worse than the ankle.  See, apparently at night, when the metal gates are closed to keep the transients out, said transients use the gate and our steps as a kind of makeshift latrine.

Those steps reek. 

We wash them down every day -- except we didn't this morning because I wasn't up to it -- but the hair lady next door refuses to let anyone power wash, and there's only so much we can do.  The steps need to be professionally cleaned and sealed, and they will be, but not before Dear Customer was stuck lying on those bricks.

And that was awful enough, but her husband took the cake.

When Mrs. Doctor went to tell him about his wife's fall, his response was, "Oh shit."  Not a worried "ohmygod is she alright?" kind of "oh shit", but more a "well hell" and "rats" sort of thing.  Like it was going to inconvenience him.  So much for HIS plans for the day, she had to fall and get hurt.  Shit.

I was appalled when Mrs. Doc told me that.  And later on, Doc said that when Hubby came over to where Dear Customer was sobbing in pain and shock and misery, all he could say was, "Oh, stop crying."  He didn't try to comfort her, didn't even touch her or hold her, just stood over her, looking down with disgust.

And, if that wasn't bad enough, he decided to argue with the transport guys about where she should be taken.  He'd suggested one of two places, Virginia Mason or Harboview, they said they'd transport to either Swedish or Harborview, and he said no, it had to be Virgina Mason.  I only heard part of that, but I know they were discussing insurance and transportation costs.

But if he'd agreed to Harborview from the outset, and their insurance covers that, why be difficult except because he could be? 

I suspect he would have told us not to call for an ambulance, that he'd just take her to the hospital-- probably making her walk to the car, except that we didn't wait for him.  And we wouldn't have listened anyway.  For professional reasons we'd have wanted official documentation on what happened. 

I just don't understand people like that.

So I'm glad I was there.  Between Bill and I, we made sure one of us was with her at all times, as well as the Doc and Mrs. Doc.  Even one of the customers was helping keep an eye on things.

But it was an exciting and sadly unpleasant experience. 

All in all, I'm glad my tummy discomfort kept me more inside while Bill was the outside liason.  I'm afraid my temper has not been improved by three non-stop days of diarrhea, and I might have said something Desperately Unpleasant to the husband.  It would have been absolutely accurate and highly inappropriate.

Still, the sun has been out, it's been warm, and I swear, I SWEAR this bout with the runs is going to STOP!  I have had the proverbial ENOUGH.

As I hope Dear Customer has of her husband's attitude.