Not only is it numerically cool, but it's my 11th anniversary today. Happy Anniversary to TheHusband! May we have many more! And stop snoring.
How did 11 years go by so quickly? I dunno, but they've been happy years.
Showing posts with label TheHusband. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TheHusband. Show all posts
10 September 2011
11 November 2010
QotD: What do we owe our veterans?
This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.
Happy Veteran's Day. Sort of. I might be the poster child for tree-hugging, bleeding heart liberal, but I am ever thankful for people who are willing to serve my country and protect me by putting themselves in harm's way. Plus, I'm married to a veteran.
I'm a neurologist, so I think about the brain. I think about things that hurt the brain. I think about what happens to the brain after it gets hurt. Mix in thinking about Iraq and Afghanistan, and you see me worrying about the current state (or lack thereof) of adequate health care and mental health care for our returning soldiers. I am lucky that I have good health insurance (providing I remain healthy and employed, that is). TheHusband served in the military and was honorably discharged, so he is entitled to health care through the VA system. Sadly, I am happy that he does not have to receive care there. Trust me, I've worked in a VA Hospital, and I know of what I speak. Issues relating to poor health care in the VA system aren't solely related to the ... um... lack of services at the institutions (I'm being kind here), but also to the lack of coverage where coverage is needed. VA clinics and hospitals are relatively few and far between, especially in rural areas, where the need is likely to be greatest.
Traumatic brain injury and PTSD are seen in increasing numbers of soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. While the diagnosis of these disorders may be easy in severe cases, diagnosis and treatment of mild or moderate cases can be difficult and confusing. A simple PubMed search of PTSD plus TBI returned 102 articles, 21 of which were published in 2010. Not an insignificant problem. As you can imagine, something that is difficult to diagnose is likely to be difficult to treat. There is no real good treatment for either of these disorder, which even in their "mild" forms can be quite disabling. Add together disroders that are hard to diagnose, difficult to treat, and a health care system inadequately prepared to deal with these issues, and it equals sick servicemembers who are not receiving care they deserve.
The lack of adequate chronic and mental health care is a concern for all of us, not just for the servicemembers and their family members. The Army Times has identified a serious lack of available care for treatment of traumatic brain injury (TBI). Reports have shown that the Army's efforts to reduce returning soldiers' suicides are failing.
So what do we owe our veterans? At the very least, we owe them adequate health care, especially to take care of war-related injuries.
I wish that this post included brilliant ideas for fixing these problems, but I don't have any. But neither, it seems, do people who are in charge.
Happy Veteran's Day. Sort of. I might be the poster child for tree-hugging, bleeding heart liberal, but I am ever thankful for people who are willing to serve my country and protect me by putting themselves in harm's way. Plus, I'm married to a veteran.
I'm a neurologist, so I think about the brain. I think about things that hurt the brain. I think about what happens to the brain after it gets hurt. Mix in thinking about Iraq and Afghanistan, and you see me worrying about the current state (or lack thereof) of adequate health care and mental health care for our returning soldiers. I am lucky that I have good health insurance (providing I remain healthy and employed, that is). TheHusband served in the military and was honorably discharged, so he is entitled to health care through the VA system. Sadly, I am happy that he does not have to receive care there. Trust me, I've worked in a VA Hospital, and I know of what I speak. Issues relating to poor health care in the VA system aren't solely related to the ... um... lack of services at the institutions (I'm being kind here), but also to the lack of coverage where coverage is needed. VA clinics and hospitals are relatively few and far between, especially in rural areas, where the need is likely to be greatest.
Traumatic brain injury and PTSD are seen in increasing numbers of soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. While the diagnosis of these disorders may be easy in severe cases, diagnosis and treatment of mild or moderate cases can be difficult and confusing. A simple PubMed search of PTSD plus TBI returned 102 articles, 21 of which were published in 2010. Not an insignificant problem. As you can imagine, something that is difficult to diagnose is likely to be difficult to treat. There is no real good treatment for either of these disorder, which even in their "mild" forms can be quite disabling. Add together disroders that are hard to diagnose, difficult to treat, and a health care system inadequately prepared to deal with these issues, and it equals sick servicemembers who are not receiving care they deserve.
The lack of adequate chronic and mental health care is a concern for all of us, not just for the servicemembers and their family members. The Army Times has identified a serious lack of available care for treatment of traumatic brain injury (TBI). Reports have shown that the Army's efforts to reduce returning soldiers' suicides are failing.
So what do we owe our veterans? At the very least, we owe them adequate health care, especially to take care of war-related injuries.
I wish that this post included brilliant ideas for fixing these problems, but I don't have any. But neither, it seems, do people who are in charge.
03 November 2010
QotD (Halloween version): Is it okay to snitch candy from your kid's Halloween candy haul?
This month I've decided to post every day. Please don't faint. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.
Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I have no connection to the concept of All Hallow's Eve, being a nice Jewish girl, so Halloween for me has always been about costumes and candy. I grew up in a generic NJ suburb, in a neighborhood with bunches of kids -- fertile hunting ground for candy pickings on Halloween. Most of the time my brother and I trick-or-treated on our own, then with friends as we grew older. Our costumes came mostly from stuff around the house. I remember being a black cat (black leotard, black tights, aluminum foil tail / ears, and whiskers drawn on with eyeliner), a giraffe (my mom made that one from an old blanket), and a doctor (my dad snitched scrubs, mask, and hat from the hospital). My brother and I would typically circle the block, ringing doorbells and chanting "Trick or treat, Smell my feet, Gimme something good to eat". We'd come home with a haul of candy.
The typical post-trick-or-treating activity involved dumping out the sack and sorting the candy. There was the stuff neither of us would touch (Almond Joys, Mounds, taffy, Baby Ruth), candy we liked but would be willing to trade (sweet tarts, licorice, peanut M&M's) and the keepers (Milky Ways, Snickers, Hershey bars, regular M&M's...). There might be a flurry of trading, we'd get to eat a piece or two, then it was brush teeth and off to bed.
Strangely enough, the amounts in our candy bags always seemed to drop more quickly than expected. Mind you, I never caught them at it or had any proof, but I am positive that my parents helped themselves after we were in bed. More than once.
TheHusband has consistently snitched from ThePinkThing's candy haul since she started trick-or-treating. I have taken a piece or two, I will admit, but not many, not like TH. Is it really okay to decimate your kid's Halloween candy stash? (glares at TheHusband)
Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I have no connection to the concept of All Hallow's Eve, being a nice Jewish girl, so Halloween for me has always been about costumes and candy. I grew up in a generic NJ suburb, in a neighborhood with bunches of kids -- fertile hunting ground for candy pickings on Halloween. Most of the time my brother and I trick-or-treated on our own, then with friends as we grew older. Our costumes came mostly from stuff around the house. I remember being a black cat (black leotard, black tights, aluminum foil tail / ears, and whiskers drawn on with eyeliner), a giraffe (my mom made that one from an old blanket), and a doctor (my dad snitched scrubs, mask, and hat from the hospital). My brother and I would typically circle the block, ringing doorbells and chanting "Trick or treat, Smell my feet, Gimme something good to eat". We'd come home with a haul of candy.
The typical post-trick-or-treating activity involved dumping out the sack and sorting the candy. There was the stuff neither of us would touch (Almond Joys, Mounds, taffy, Baby Ruth), candy we liked but would be willing to trade (sweet tarts, licorice, peanut M&M's) and the keepers (Milky Ways, Snickers, Hershey bars, regular M&M's...). There might be a flurry of trading, we'd get to eat a piece or two, then it was brush teeth and off to bed.
Strangely enough, the amounts in our candy bags always seemed to drop more quickly than expected. Mind you, I never caught them at it or had any proof, but I am positive that my parents helped themselves after we were in bed. More than once.
TheHusband has consistently snitched from ThePinkThing's candy haul since she started trick-or-treating. I have taken a piece or two, I will admit, but not many, not like TH. Is it really okay to decimate your kid's Halloween candy stash? (glares at TheHusband)
10 September 2010
10 on the 10th
Just like last year, I'd like to take the time to wish TheHusband a happy anniversary. Can you believe it's been 10 years?!?!
Right, me neither.
TheHusband says the tune for this song is from the William Tell Overture. Given my consistently tone-deaf state, I'm forced to agree with him by default (just like an obedient wife, I guess). Is he correct?
Right, me neither.
TheHusband says the tune for this song is from the William Tell Overture. Given my consistently tone-deaf state, I'm forced to agree with him by default (just like an obedient wife, I guess). Is he correct?
21 February 2010
Crazy friends and pathetic husband
As the follow up to Snobliteration, my best friends from college came to visit. They have 2 daughters, one of whom is a few months younger than ThePinkThing, and the other is 3 years younger. Last time they came to visit for a weekend, their YoungerGirl had to be forcibly removed from TPT's bedroom, due to incessant talking at bedtime. TPT still remembers that moment fondly. Having no siblings, she seems to take joy from younger siblings getting in trouble. To be honest, so did I as a kid, but that was because if a younger sibling in my house got in trouble, it was my brother. Always amusing.
Anyway, these friends had had long-standing plans to visit last weekend, and they weren't going to let a foot or four of snow stop them. They trekked down from NY on Friday, just in time for bedtime. Of course that delayed bedtime until well after 9 pm. Annoyingly, if TPT goes to bed especially late, she always gets up much earlier than usual. That morning was no different -- they were trekking downstairs at 6 am, much to our dismay. Quite a bit of Saturday was spent in the snow -- everyone except me. Wasn't up to that. They tried sledding, which didn't quite work out. They tunneled in the snow. They made a snow fort. All in something like 3 feet of snow. Crazy people. But I love them.
These are the friends whose house we were visiting last summer, when TheHusband went to the ER with possible appendicitis (it wasn't). Three summers ago, when we were staying with them, TPT had to get stitches. She was jumping on the bed with their OlderGirl and fell, hitting her face on the headboard. Two summers ago, TH lost his glasses in the lake, when he was standing on a dock, sneezed, and ploomp went his glasses into the water. Never to be seen again, mind you. I am surprised that they ever let us come visit or even want to see us. This past weekend was no exception. TH got food poisoning. His Saturday evening was spent either doing nasty stuff in the bathroom or sleeping in the recliner. Sigh. Not the best of visits.
Next time we visit them, I'm leaving TH home.
Anyway, these friends had had long-standing plans to visit last weekend, and they weren't going to let a foot or four of snow stop them. They trekked down from NY on Friday, just in time for bedtime. Of course that delayed bedtime until well after 9 pm. Annoyingly, if TPT goes to bed especially late, she always gets up much earlier than usual. That morning was no different -- they were trekking downstairs at 6 am, much to our dismay. Quite a bit of Saturday was spent in the snow -- everyone except me. Wasn't up to that. They tried sledding, which didn't quite work out. They tunneled in the snow. They made a snow fort. All in something like 3 feet of snow. Crazy people. But I love them.
These are the friends whose house we were visiting last summer, when TheHusband went to the ER with possible appendicitis (it wasn't). Three summers ago, when we were staying with them, TPT had to get stitches. She was jumping on the bed with their OlderGirl and fell, hitting her face on the headboard. Two summers ago, TH lost his glasses in the lake, when he was standing on a dock, sneezed, and ploomp went his glasses into the water. Never to be seen again, mind you. I am surprised that they ever let us come visit or even want to see us. This past weekend was no exception. TH got food poisoning. His Saturday evening was spent either doing nasty stuff in the bathroom or sleeping in the recliner. Sigh. Not the best of visits.
Next time we visit them, I'm leaving TH home.
19 December 2009
Let It Snow
Ah to be 6 again, during a big snow storm. It is much simpler and more fun.
I am worrying about being unable to help TheHusband clean off the cars (much less even touch the shovel), how he's going to shovel the 18+ inches of snow without having his back go out, and if I'll actually be able to get out of the house on Tuesday for my appointment. ThePinkThing was only thinking about fun. FUN! Snow! Eat snow, swim in snow, make snow angels (including one in the middle of our street), roll down the lawn in the snow, throw snow at Daddy, etc.
I think she has the right way of it... Perhaps I'll go out and eat some snow. :-)
Eating snow
A hand towel as makeshift ear-muffs
Butt-high snow by 5 pm
Shivery-cold
This is as far as I got
Our lonely street
Below knee-high at around noon
Well above the knees at 5 pm
Afterwards -- footie PJ's
I am worrying about being unable to help TheHusband clean off the cars (much less even touch the shovel), how he's going to shovel the 18+ inches of snow without having his back go out, and if I'll actually be able to get out of the house on Tuesday for my appointment. ThePinkThing was only thinking about fun. FUN! Snow! Eat snow, swim in snow, make snow angels (including one in the middle of our street), roll down the lawn in the snow, throw snow at Daddy, etc.
I think she has the right way of it... Perhaps I'll go out and eat some snow. :-)
Eating snow
A hand towel as makeshift ear-muffs
Butt-high snow by 5 pm
Shivery-cold
This is as far as I got
Our lonely street
Below knee-high at around noon
Well above the knees at 5 pm
Afterwards -- footie PJ's
29 November 2009
More RED
This year's plans for Thanksgiving were completely bollixed up by the back surgery I had earlier this month. My extended family gets together every 3rd year, so we have begun to go to my in-laws for Turkey Day the other two years. This year would have been the 2nd in a row spent with my in-laws, which they did not mind in the least. Unfortunately, I was unable to handle that long of a car ride, and I was not quite well enough to be left here by myself. So we had to cancel our plans. TheHusband and ThePinkThing went to local extended family, and a friend came over and spent the afternoon with me. It worked out beautifully. TPT played with her 4 year-old cousin, TH had some adult conversation, and I had a completely relaxing and uncomplicated Turkey Day with a friend. I wish, in a way, that all of my Thanksgiving holidays were that relaxed.
But even though I have basically gone through hell during my hospitalization, I felt like TheHusband really deserved something special because he's had to deal with me in all my emotionally freaky glory these past 3 weeks.
So I arranged for a delivery of RED. RED? you ask. Yes, RED. RED soda -- that cheap stuff that TH loves, that can only be found in the Cleveland Ohio area -- Cotton Club's Cherry Strawberry soda. One of my coworkers went home to the Cleveland area for Thanksgiving, and I arranged for him to bring back some of it. It turns out that he brought back a whole boatload of the stuff. Here you see the haul -- the product of a visit to 2 different stores.
Please note that one can is missing. It's already been opened, sampled, finished, and found very acceptable. I'm betting that ten 2 liter bottles and 48 cans last about a month and a half.
Many thanks to my coworker (who even refused payment). I may have to take him out for sushi in compensation (mmm, sushi). Once I am up and about.
I really have great coworkers...
But even though I have basically gone through hell during my hospitalization, I felt like TheHusband really deserved something special because he's had to deal with me in all my emotionally freaky glory these past 3 weeks.So I arranged for a delivery of RED. RED? you ask. Yes, RED. RED soda -- that cheap stuff that TH loves, that can only be found in the Cleveland Ohio area -- Cotton Club's Cherry Strawberry soda. One of my coworkers went home to the Cleveland area for Thanksgiving, and I arranged for him to bring back some of it. It turns out that he brought back a whole boatload of the stuff. Here you see the haul -- the product of a visit to 2 different stores.
Please note that one can is missing. It's already been opened, sampled, finished, and found very acceptable. I'm betting that ten 2 liter bottles and 48 cans last about a month and a half.Many thanks to my coworker (who even refused payment). I may have to take him out for sushi in compensation (mmm, sushi). Once I am up and about.
I really have great coworkers...
22 November 2009
Early morning emergency (including crying)
(Scene: 7:20 am, my bedroom, TheHusband and I asleep.)
ThePinkThing (standing at TH's side of the bed): Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
TheHusband: Wuh. Huh?
TPT: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
TH: Whassa matter? What's wrong?
TPT: You ate my Halloween candy!!
TH (brain clearly still gummy): I only ate 3 pieces.
TPT: That was MY candy. And you ate more than that. You ate like 50 pieces.
TH: No, I didn't eat 50 pieces of your Halloween candy. I ate a few pieces last night.
TPT: Waaah! That's my candy, not yours.
TH: Okay, I won't eat anymore of your Halloween candy.
(pause)
TPT: Will you turn on The Magic School Bus for me?
(pause while TH goes downstairs then returns)
TH: Do you know that she found and looked in the random bag that I hid the candy wrappers? How the heck did she find that? And it's not like she'd have eaten the Almond Joys anyway...
--For a change, there was a household emergency that did not involve me.--
ThePinkThing (standing at TH's side of the bed): Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
TheHusband: Wuh. Huh?
TPT: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
TH: Whassa matter? What's wrong?
TPT: You ate my Halloween candy!!
TH (brain clearly still gummy): I only ate 3 pieces.
TPT: That was MY candy. And you ate more than that. You ate like 50 pieces.
TH: No, I didn't eat 50 pieces of your Halloween candy. I ate a few pieces last night.
TPT: Waaah! That's my candy, not yours.
TH: Okay, I won't eat anymore of your Halloween candy.
(pause)
TPT: Will you turn on The Magic School Bus for me?
(pause while TH goes downstairs then returns)
TH: Do you know that she found and looked in the random bag that I hid the candy wrappers? How the heck did she find that? And it's not like she'd have eaten the Almond Joys anyway...
--For a change, there was a household emergency that did not involve me.--
08 November 2009
Hepped Up on Goofballs!
Hello all,
Here I am hepped-up on goof balls during post-op day four.
Just a note to let you all know I am doing better now that I am VERY medicated and will hopefully be moving to in-patient rehab soon. I will probably remain in the hospital for at least another week but I am making slow and steady progress.
Thanks to everyone who has called, emailed, sent wishes. These things have really helped me mentally and have improved my mood greatly. I will try and stay in touch through the web but I literally can only stay awake and aware for very brief periods of time.
Todays post is only possible via TheHusband who is typing this out. In fact I may nod off and some additional statements may be made without my knowledge or consent. Good thing I like him.
My husband is the most wonderful, kind-hearted, good looking, smartest A1 tip-top terrific person on the face of the planet! I worship the ground he walks on and will always follow his requests and wishes unquestionably!
Here I am hepped-up on goof balls during post-op day four.
Just a note to let you all know I am doing better now that I am VERY medicated and will hopefully be moving to in-patient rehab soon. I will probably remain in the hospital for at least another week but I am making slow and steady progress.
Thanks to everyone who has called, emailed, sent wishes. These things have really helped me mentally and have improved my mood greatly. I will try and stay in touch through the web but I literally can only stay awake and aware for very brief periods of time.
Todays post is only possible via TheHusband who is typing this out. In fact I may nod off and some additional statements may be made without my knowledge or consent. Good thing I like him.
My husband is the most wonderful, kind-hearted, good looking, smartest A1 tip-top terrific person on the face of the planet! I worship the ground he walks on and will always follow his requests and wishes unquestionably!
30 October 2009
29 October 2009
TheHusband's home!
His flight got in 45 minutes early, and since he had no checked bags, he zipped through the airport. I've decided to leave work and go see him.
(And I finally posted something that wasn't whiny or pathetic!)
(And I finally posted something that wasn't whiny or pathetic!)
23 October 2009
A really nice wife
That's me -- a really nice wife.
One of TheHusband's friends was heading to Rome for business, and called TH for advice about 2 weeks ago. TH lived in southern Italy (Brundisi) for a few years in the mid 80's, when he was in the Navy. He, being the adventurous sort, rented a room with a family instead of living in the barracks. They wanted to learn English, and he wanted to get away from his fellow-sailors. It turned out that they never learned much English, but TH ended up speaking Italian fluently. He went back once in the mid 90's (before we met).
So anyway, back to his friend. The friend was really incredibly freaked out about visiting Italy (hello, it's not Yemen, Somalia, or Afghanistan). I was listening vaguely to TH's side of the conversation and finally said "Why don't you just go and meet up with him in Rome? You'll have a nice adventure and calm down HF." So we looked up flights, and he got a reasonably priced fare. He left last night, with a laptop bag and a moderate-sized shoulder bag (God knows, I can't travel that lightly). He should have landed about 4 hours ago. He gets to stay in Rome for a week, returning next Thursday.
See -- I am a nice wife. But he'd better bring me back a nice present, or maybe I won't be quite so nice... :-)
One of TheHusband's friends was heading to Rome for business, and called TH for advice about 2 weeks ago. TH lived in southern Italy (Brundisi) for a few years in the mid 80's, when he was in the Navy. He, being the adventurous sort, rented a room with a family instead of living in the barracks. They wanted to learn English, and he wanted to get away from his fellow-sailors. It turned out that they never learned much English, but TH ended up speaking Italian fluently. He went back once in the mid 90's (before we met).
So anyway, back to his friend. The friend was really incredibly freaked out about visiting Italy (hello, it's not Yemen, Somalia, or Afghanistan). I was listening vaguely to TH's side of the conversation and finally said "Why don't you just go and meet up with him in Rome? You'll have a nice adventure and calm down HF." So we looked up flights, and he got a reasonably priced fare. He left last night, with a laptop bag and a moderate-sized shoulder bag (God knows, I can't travel that lightly). He should have landed about 4 hours ago. He gets to stay in Rome for a week, returning next Thursday.
See -- I am a nice wife. But he'd better bring me back a nice present, or maybe I won't be quite so nice... :-)
22 October 2009
Prehistoric Spam
I wonder if TheHusband actually missed out on $100,000 about 25 years ago...
Why no, he never throws things out. Except the telegram the spam-pen came with...
Why no, he never throws things out. Except the telegram the spam-pen came with...
19 October 2009
RIF and the pneumatic gun
Just for Jim, from TheHusband's copy of "Rudder"...
The recruit getting his skanky teeth brushed is TheHusband. Note the BC glasses and the gorgeous hair style, courtesy of the US government -- for free! The poor guy getting vaccinated is a random cohort of TH's, name unknown.
The recruit getting his skanky teeth brushed is TheHusband. Note the BC glasses and the gorgeous hair style, courtesy of the US government -- for free! The poor guy getting vaccinated is a random cohort of TH's, name unknown.
15 September 2009
The other white meat
My house at lunchtime the other day:
TheHusband: What do you want for lunch?
ThePinkThing: Pancakes.
TH: We don't have any [frozen] pancakes, and I can't make them.
TPT: Then I want waffles.
TH: We're out of waffles, too. How about turkey?
TPT: I don't like turkey. (Odd, since she loved turkey just a couple of weeks ago)
TH: Ummm... (thinks it over) How about this white ham that Mommy bought the other day?
TPT: White ham?
TH: Yes. She bought it with the other ham when we were at Great Wolf Lodge.
TPT: Okay.
Eats lunch.
TH: Did you like the white ham?
TPT: Yes, it was really yummy. But isn't white ham, Daddy. It's really light pink ham. Mommy should buy it again.
Please note that the "white ham" which TPT is referring to was Sara Lee Pre-Sliced Oven Roasted Turkey Breast. TheHusband won that round handily. And I never could've gotten away with it.
Sometimes it concerns me that I have a husband who can lie convincingly at any given moment...
TheHusband: What do you want for lunch?
ThePinkThing: Pancakes.
TH: We don't have any [frozen] pancakes, and I can't make them.
TPT: Then I want waffles.
TH: We're out of waffles, too. How about turkey?
TPT: I don't like turkey. (Odd, since she loved turkey just a couple of weeks ago)
TH: Ummm... (thinks it over) How about this white ham that Mommy bought the other day?
TPT: White ham?
TH: Yes. She bought it with the other ham when we were at Great Wolf Lodge.
TPT: Okay.
Eats lunch.
TH: Did you like the white ham?
TPT: Yes, it was really yummy. But isn't white ham, Daddy. It's really light pink ham. Mommy should buy it again.
Please note that the "white ham" which TPT is referring to was Sara Lee Pre-Sliced Oven Roasted Turkey Breast. TheHusband won that round handily. And I never could've gotten away with it.
Sometimes it concerns me that I have a husband who can lie convincingly at any given moment...
10 September 2009
This is my husband... (Updated)
This is my husband. There are many husbands, but this one is mine. My husband is my best friend. He is my life. I must master him as I master my life. (That means I get to wear the pants in the family!) My husband, without me, is useless (heh!). Without my husband, I am useless (not true!)…
My husband is human, even as I, because he is my life. Thus, I will learn him. I will learn his weakness, his strength, his parts, his accessories, his sights and his barrel (pot belly?). I will keep my husband clean and ready (soap, towels, shampoo, clean laundry), even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will...
--To TheHusband at the beginning of year 10: Happy 9th Anniversary!
(Adapted from "The Rifleman's Creed", which all Marines learn [and used even though TheHusband was a Sailor, not a Marine...].)
_______________________________
Updated to add the following (thanks Husband!!!):
My husband is human, even as I, because he is my life. Thus, I will learn him. I will learn his weakness, his strength, his parts, his accessories, his sights and his barrel (pot belly?). I will keep my husband clean and ready (soap, towels, shampoo, clean laundry), even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will...
--To TheHusband at the beginning of year 10: Happy 9th Anniversary!
(Adapted from "The Rifleman's Creed", which all Marines learn [and used even though TheHusband was a Sailor, not a Marine...].)
_______________________________
Updated to add the following (thanks Husband!!!):
02 September 2009
Arcades, Skee-ball, and Air Hockey
While were staying at Great Wolf Lodge, we dropped some money in the arcade, because we all like arcades. TH loves arcade games, and he spent many hours in arcades when he should have been in school. I loved playing skee-ball (and spent many an hour doing that in one of two arcades on the Boardwalk in Atlantic City [Fun-Spot and Playcade]), so TPT comes by her love of arcades honestly.
Skee-ball has changed quite a bit since my misspent youth of the early 70's. Skee-ball, for those of you who don't know, is a game similar to bowling, but the lane is much shorter, on an upward incline, and the point is to get the baseball-sized ball into a hole rather than knock down pins. It was one of the only arcade games I was good at when I was younger, and I still do well at it.
Great Wolf Lodge has a new-fangled skee-ball game with an alien. The point of alien skee-ball is to nail the swinging pendulum and drop the alien down. Of course, while you're trying to nail the alien, it taunts you. TPT found that part hilarious. I nailed the alien twice in one game and won about 30 tickets. Good for me.
But in the back of the arcade at Great Wolf Lodge was my favoritest arcade game -- air hockey. The game I can't resist. I'll play it even if my back is killing me, and I play hard. Air hockey! You know, the game where the table blows up air from teeny tiny holes, suspending a plastic puck on a somewhat frictionless surface. This allows the players to smack the crap out of the puck using plastic handles. I LOVE this game, and I play viciously (except against little kids -- I will cut them a break). TheHusband also likes air hockey and is not averse to a good hard game.
Our first game of air hockey took place in California -- we found an air hockey table at a mini-golf/arcade place and had ourselves a "nice" game after a round of miniature golf. I bet TH something (I can't remember what) that I would whip his ass. He immediately took me up on the bet. Why shouldn't he? After all, I am short, dumpy, non-athletic, and a bit spastic. He's more than a foot taller than I am and much more coordinated. Easy meat, I suspect he thought. He played easy on me for the first minute or two, but then he realized that was a bad idea. I promptly beat his ass by a score of 7 - 1. Ka-ching!
As it happened, I had never passed along a crucial bit of information. We had an arcade-sized air hockey table in my house when I was a kid. My parents finally donated it to the local Y when my brother and I were in college. But we played it. A lot. So I had lots of practice. I regularly beat my cousins and other boys my age, and I haven't really lost my touch. I did confess after I won that first game, and he vowed never to show me any mercy ever again (at air hockey, at least).
We have an ongoing contest -- we play every time we find a full-sized table. I am the West Coast champ. I think he's the tropical champ (Florida). We found a table at the place where his 20th high school reunion was held and played best 2 out of 3 games. To his great annoyance, I won that match, so I am definitely the Ohio champ. I am now the Virginia champ as well. TPT's eyes were big as saucers watching us whale on the puck, hitting it as hard as we could. Her mom and dad were really trying to beat the other one, no holds barred. She was actively rooting for me, and she jumped up and down when I won (7 - 4). Take that, Husband!
Skee-ball has changed quite a bit since my misspent youth of the early 70's. Skee-ball, for those of you who don't know, is a game similar to bowling, but the lane is much shorter, on an upward incline, and the point is to get the baseball-sized ball into a hole rather than knock down pins. It was one of the only arcade games I was good at when I was younger, and I still do well at it.
Great Wolf Lodge has a new-fangled skee-ball game with an alien. The point of alien skee-ball is to nail the swinging pendulum and drop the alien down. Of course, while you're trying to nail the alien, it taunts you. TPT found that part hilarious. I nailed the alien twice in one game and won about 30 tickets. Good for me.But in the back of the arcade at Great Wolf Lodge was my favoritest arcade game -- air hockey. The game I can't resist. I'll play it even if my back is killing me, and I play hard. Air hockey! You know, the game where the table blows up air from teeny tiny holes, suspending a plastic puck on a somewhat frictionless surface. This allows the players to smack the crap out of the puck using plastic handles. I LOVE this game, and I play viciously (except against little kids -- I will cut them a break). TheHusband also likes air hockey and is not averse to a good hard game.
Our first game of air hockey took place in California -- we found an air hockey table at a mini-golf/arcade place and had ourselves a "nice" game after a round of miniature golf. I bet TH something (I can't remember what) that I would whip his ass. He immediately took me up on the bet. Why shouldn't he? After all, I am short, dumpy, non-athletic, and a bit spastic. He's more than a foot taller than I am and much more coordinated. Easy meat, I suspect he thought. He played easy on me for the first minute or two, but then he realized that was a bad idea. I promptly beat his ass by a score of 7 - 1. Ka-ching!As it happened, I had never passed along a crucial bit of information. We had an arcade-sized air hockey table in my house when I was a kid. My parents finally donated it to the local Y when my brother and I were in college. But we played it. A lot. So I had lots of practice. I regularly beat my cousins and other boys my age, and I haven't really lost my touch. I did confess after I won that first game, and he vowed never to show me any mercy ever again (at air hockey, at least).
We have an ongoing contest -- we play every time we find a full-sized table. I am the West Coast champ. I think he's the tropical champ (Florida). We found a table at the place where his 20th high school reunion was held and played best 2 out of 3 games. To his great annoyance, I won that match, so I am definitely the Ohio champ. I am now the Virginia champ as well. TPT's eyes were big as saucers watching us whale on the puck, hitting it as hard as we could. Her mom and dad were really trying to beat the other one, no holds barred. She was actively rooting for me, and she jumped up and down when I won (7 - 4). Take that, Husband!
06 August 2009
Not-A-Vacation
So I am back from my long weekend away. A much-needed mini-vacation. Except it wasn't a vacation. It was a busman's holiday, so to speak -- filled with medical issues.
First the good parts:
We drove up the evil I-95 corridor from MD to NJ, leaving around 10 o'clock on Saturday morning, and arriving around 3:45 pm. I swear that *&^%$-ing drive just gets longer and longer each time. Delaware is an absolute nightmare. The NJ Turnpike (which is an excellent road when there is no traffic) was dreadful for about 7 miles. There was a bonus back-up on the Garden State Parkway, near to our final destination (my grandparents' place). Five hours and 45 minutes to go 230 miles. We did have a nice visit with my grandparents, who I love to pieces.
As we were leaving my grandparents' house, I tripped over a carpet outside the back door. Those who know me know that I trip fairly easily, but I don't often fall down. When I do, it is usually a bad fall. This one was one of those -- one of those falls in slow-motion for me and for the onlookers (which included ThePinkThing). I tried to catch onto the railing but missed, so I went head first down about 3 concrete steps. That fucking hurt. I whacked my arm, belly, and head, and scraped my hands and knees. Thankfully I didn't break anything, but I raised a spectacular set of bruises.
I didn't notice the worst part until Monday, actually. Apparently I landed smash onto a small cyst that is on my belly, at my waistline. On Monday I noticed that it was swollen. By yesterday, it was hurting and today it was red, hot, swollen, and really painful. Yay, an infection. So (never wanting to treat my own self) I dropped by a friend's office. He offered to lance and drain it. I said "No freaking way! How about some nice antibiotics?" So now I am on antibiotics for a giant painful subcutaneous infection on my belly. I am falling apart. The bruises in the picture are 4 days old and healing.
No big deal you say -- it was just a fall, nothing broken, just some bruises, and a small infection. What are you whining about? Why the glum face? Well, I haven't mentioned TheHusband's 9 hour emergency room visit on Monday, have I?
He'd been complaining about belly pain on and off for a few days. On Sunday, I noticed that his potbelly looked bigger than usual, and pointed that out. He agreed. On Monday the pain was a bit worse, but we went to the fair anyway. About 30 minutes into the fair, he was white, sweaty and looked like he was going to pass out. He said that the belly pain was worse and localized in his right lower quadrant. "Crap, that could very well be appendicitis," I thought. He was clearly dehydrated and improved a little after drinking 16 oz of water. We decided to go to the ER anyway, because the belly pain wasn't any better. After much discussion, we decided that B would drive us back to the lake house (~1 hour away), while T would remain with the 3 kids at the fair. We'd pick up our car and drive to the hospital in Scranton where TPT had gotten her stitches. Of course it was a Monday afternoon, so the ER was packed. After about 2.5 hours, TH was taken into a room. Eventually he had a belly CT (yum, drink that contrast now...), which didn't show a surgical abdomen.
So at 11 pm we trekked back to B&T's house. TH's belly is still a little distended and it still hurts (although it is a little better now), but at least he didn't require surgery. It is off to the doctor on Monday for answers.
Thankfully, TPT was clueless about the ER visit. She had a great time at the fair, answered a question correctly at the Census Booth (who was president of the US in 1790?), saw (and petted) a boatload of animals, rode on an elephant(!) and a pony,
and went on about 40,000 carnival rides. A good time was had by all of the kids, which was really the point of the trip to the fair.
But you do see why I need a vacation to recover from my vacation, don't you?
First the good parts:
On Saturday night, I met up with four old friends from sleep-away camp. I haven't seen these "girls" in more than 25 years, and I last went to camp with them in the summer of 1979. Literally a week after I joined Facebook, one of my old camp friends friended me. That was a really pleasant bolt out of the blue. Over the next couple of months, we talked and decided to have a "Real Life" get-together. I must admit that I was a bit nervous. I am no longer 13 or 17 (or whatever I was when we last met up). I am over forty and feel it (and am starting to look it). My adolescent insecurities reared their ugly heads -- what if they thought I was stupid or ugly or boring? What if they all liked each other but not me? Stupid, I know, but events like this really do turn me into a quivering bag of internal insecurities. But (not shockingly) I had an excellent time. 
If you asked me specifically what we talked about, I don't think I could answer you. We talked to some degree about our kids and husbands and parents and siblings. We didn't talk about our jobs or politics or current events. We reminisced about things we did at camp. I either had a much worse time than they did and am suppressing my memories or I just don't dwell too much on the past (which is the most likely reason for my lack of memories). It was an extremely pleasant 3 hours, and we are hoping to get together again, next time with the families.- The other good part was getting to hang out with my best college friends (handily married to each other) at their lake house. They have 2 daughters, one of whom is a few months younger than ThePinkThing (D1). They play together nicely and try to exclude my friends' younger daughter (D2 -- age 3). We love spending time with them. Most of the time. Well, not when we visit them at the lake, actually. Two years ago, TPT and D1 were jumping on their beds, when TPT fell, banging her face on the headboard, causing a laceration above her right eyebrow. That required a trip to the ER and 4 stitches. The next night TPT peed in her bed. When we arrived home, I found a tick in my back, which TH had to remove with tweezers. Not a stellar trip. Last summer, TH lost his glasses in the lake. We had high hopes for this weekend, with a trip to the NJ State Fair (aka the Sussex County Farm and Horse Show) and a trip to a local beach at the lake planned.
We drove up the evil I-95 corridor from MD to NJ, leaving around 10 o'clock on Saturday morning, and arriving around 3:45 pm. I swear that *&^%$-ing drive just gets longer and longer each time. Delaware is an absolute nightmare. The NJ Turnpike (which is an excellent road when there is no traffic) was dreadful for about 7 miles. There was a bonus back-up on the Garden State Parkway, near to our final destination (my grandparents' place). Five hours and 45 minutes to go 230 miles. We did have a nice visit with my grandparents, who I love to pieces.
As we were leaving my grandparents' house, I tripped over a carpet outside the back door. Those who know me know that I trip fairly easily, but I don't often fall down. When I do, it is usually a bad fall. This one was one of those -- one of those falls in slow-motion for me and for the onlookers (which included ThePinkThing). I tried to catch onto the railing but missed, so I went head first down about 3 concrete steps. That fucking hurt. I whacked my arm, belly, and head, and scraped my hands and knees. Thankfully I didn't break anything, but I raised a spectacular set of bruises.
I didn't notice the worst part until Monday, actually. Apparently I landed smash onto a small cyst that is on my belly, at my waistline. On Monday I noticed that it was swollen. By yesterday, it was hurting and today it was red, hot, swollen, and really painful. Yay, an infection. So (never wanting to treat my own self) I dropped by a friend's office. He offered to lance and drain it. I said "No freaking way! How about some nice antibiotics?" So now I am on antibiotics for a giant painful subcutaneous infection on my belly. I am falling apart. The bruises in the picture are 4 days old and healing.No big deal you say -- it was just a fall, nothing broken, just some bruises, and a small infection. What are you whining about? Why the glum face? Well, I haven't mentioned TheHusband's 9 hour emergency room visit on Monday, have I?
He'd been complaining about belly pain on and off for a few days. On Sunday, I noticed that his potbelly looked bigger than usual, and pointed that out. He agreed. On Monday the pain was a bit worse, but we went to the fair anyway. About 30 minutes into the fair, he was white, sweaty and looked like he was going to pass out. He said that the belly pain was worse and localized in his right lower quadrant. "Crap, that could very well be appendicitis," I thought. He was clearly dehydrated and improved a little after drinking 16 oz of water. We decided to go to the ER anyway, because the belly pain wasn't any better. After much discussion, we decided that B would drive us back to the lake house (~1 hour away), while T would remain with the 3 kids at the fair. We'd pick up our car and drive to the hospital in Scranton where TPT had gotten her stitches. Of course it was a Monday afternoon, so the ER was packed. After about 2.5 hours, TH was taken into a room. Eventually he had a belly CT (yum, drink that contrast now...), which didn't show a surgical abdomen.
So at 11 pm we trekked back to B&T's house. TH's belly is still a little distended and it still hurts (although it is a little better now), but at least he didn't require surgery. It is off to the doctor on Monday for answers.Thankfully, TPT was clueless about the ER visit. She had a great time at the fair, answered a question correctly at the Census Booth (who was president of the US in 1790?), saw (and petted) a boatload of animals, rode on an elephant(!) and a pony,
and went on about 40,000 carnival rides. A good time was had by all of the kids, which was really the point of the trip to the fair.But you do see why I need a vacation to recover from my vacation, don't you?
18 July 2009
Busy weekend
My back is feeling well enough, so what did we do today? We cleaned the basement, the linen closet and some of the family room. Tomorrow we will tackle the piles in the living room and dining room.
The amount of crap that has built up is positively amazing and is a testament to my rather high tolerance level for clutter. Eventually, the crap level in my house exceeds my tolerance level, and it gets cleaned up. I wish several things: that my tolerance level was lower (so things wouldn't get quite so cluttered), that I had gotten into the habit of putting things away after using them (that's a hard habit to change), and that I just didn't accumulate so much stuff. One of my sisters-in-law has the least cluttered house ever. It is nerve-wracking for me to stay there, because I always feel that I am messing stuff up. But it does inspire me to try to be neater. Unfortunately, that part wears off quickly after a visit.
Make hay while the sun shines, I say. My back will probably start hurting again, regardless of what I do, and I took it easy yesterday and Thursday.
TheHusband is the brawn -- he does the lifting and carrying. I sort the crap out and give orders (the brains?). He says that I get to be the Rear Admiral this weekend. That's fine, because he is not a full Admiral. I'll allow him to be a (Navy) Captain. After all, that's a promotion from his rank when he left the Navy (Lt, j.g.).
The amount of crap that has built up is positively amazing and is a testament to my rather high tolerance level for clutter. Eventually, the crap level in my house exceeds my tolerance level, and it gets cleaned up. I wish several things: that my tolerance level was lower (so things wouldn't get quite so cluttered), that I had gotten into the habit of putting things away after using them (that's a hard habit to change), and that I just didn't accumulate so much stuff. One of my sisters-in-law has the least cluttered house ever. It is nerve-wracking for me to stay there, because I always feel that I am messing stuff up. But it does inspire me to try to be neater. Unfortunately, that part wears off quickly after a visit.
Make hay while the sun shines, I say. My back will probably start hurting again, regardless of what I do, and I took it easy yesterday and Thursday.
TheHusband is the brawn -- he does the lifting and carrying. I sort the crap out and give orders (the brains?). He says that I get to be the Rear Admiral this weekend. That's fine, because he is not a full Admiral. I'll allow him to be a (Navy) Captain. After all, that's a promotion from his rank when he left the Navy (Lt, j.g.).
06 July 2009
I'm in love
It's all TheHusband's fault. And I am not referring to him. I'm in love with an artificial "brain", because TH has built me a new computer. This is the 3rd computer he's built for me, and it is the smartest, speediest, and cutest desktop computer ever. As I mentioned in an earlier post, we went to MicroCenter the other day to replace my wheezing and intermittently blind laptop with something a bit more reliable and less capricious (and non-portable).
The only part of my desktop that I picked out was the case. A computer has to look decent, besides work well, right? Right? I HATE putty-colored electronic equipment and believe that whoever came up with that beyond boring beige color should be forced to live in a house with putty colored walls, ceilings and floors. My new case is black and silver and has an emblem that looks like an ancient Roman helmet. Being a former classicist, that immediately attracted me. As for the innards -- I left that completely up to TheHusband and joined ThePinkThing in the aisle that had the black light, so we could admire our t-shirts and shoelaces...
Look, innards!!!
The computer has a 500 GB SeaGate hard drive, because TH will only use SeaGate or Western Digitial drives, having had unfortunate experiences with other brands. The chip speed is 2.67 GHz, which is about 50,000 times faster than the aforementioned wheezing laptop. It has a bunch of RAM (beats me how much), and a DVD writer, and multiple card-reader (for those little camera card thingamajigs). It has USB ports galore, and probably some other important features that I have no clue about. Mind you, this computer is not being used by a gamer/artist/photographer/etc, so all this computing power is probably wasted on me. But, boy, it zips along, and I'm having fun. Barring any dreadful accident to it, I suspect I will have this one for at least 5 years.
The only part of my desktop that I picked out was the case. A computer has to look decent, besides work well, right? Right? I HATE putty-colored electronic equipment and believe that whoever came up with that beyond boring beige color should be forced to live in a house with putty colored walls, ceilings and floors. My new case is black and silver and has an emblem that looks like an ancient Roman helmet. Being a former classicist, that immediately attracted me. As for the innards -- I left that completely up to TheHusband and joined ThePinkThing in the aisle that had the black light, so we could admire our t-shirts and shoelaces...
Look, innards!!!
The computer has a 500 GB SeaGate hard drive, because TH will only use SeaGate or Western Digitial drives, having had unfortunate experiences with other brands. The chip speed is 2.67 GHz, which is about 50,000 times faster than the aforementioned wheezing laptop. It has a bunch of RAM (beats me how much), and a DVD writer, and multiple card-reader (for those little camera card thingamajigs). It has USB ports galore, and probably some other important features that I have no clue about. Mind you, this computer is not being used by a gamer/artist/photographer/etc, so all this computing power is probably wasted on me. But, boy, it zips along, and I'm having fun. Barring any dreadful accident to it, I suspect I will have this one for at least 5 years.
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