Tuesday, July 28, 2009

In Futher News....

I don't usually focus on accents, usually, but there's something about saying 'futher', accent on the fuh, that I really like. I don't find myself saying it often, but when I do, I think of people down South, warm, sunny days, relaxed, living easy. Hey, y'all, and all that. I know, it's a stereotype, and have I ever tried to navigate I-285 around Atlanta? But I like it. It makes me smile.

As did finding out this morning that my wife's foot is not broken. Heavy bruising in the soft tissue (still don't know what to call that area), but over time the swelling will go down, and she'll be able to wear shoes again. I told her that she could borrow one of my shoes for a while, if she wants. And we've found to our surprise that the part of the waffle iron that we'd given up on still works. I accidentally spilled batter on it the other day and it worked, so this morning I intentionally used it, warning my wife that we might end up eating Rice Krispies. But it did. A little soft (so maybe there is something wrong with the heat), but usable. This is goodness.

We ordered a new surge protector for my MIL's PC the other day -- we're giving her our old router so that when my daughter (and others) come up to the house, they can wirelessly connect to the net; unfortunately, her existing surge protector is too small to handle another plug with a transformer in it, so we're getting her one from APC, plus an extra CAT5 cable we had laying around. Now if we could just get her damn stairs to not be the vertical climb entry in the local Olympics. I slept upstairs there, the other night, and when I got up, I put my sneakers on (traction), and walked very slowly down the stairs -- and still felt a little uneasy. I wonder if I (or my wife) could talk her into putting a handhold at the top of the stairs?

Got to mow today, bummer. But on the upside, there's a possibility that the woman who stops here on occasion on her way to and from school may come by on Thursday. I enjoy when that happens, trying hard not to say So, how's school? I mean, I know that's what she does, but it just sounds so infantile to me. Last time, my wife wasn't here, which, I think, made her a little uneasy -- one of those I'm pretty sure this guy is okay but still, here I am all alone with him.... moments; this time, my wife might be here, depending on whether her foot feels good enough to hobble into work.

What fun!

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