OUCH!
Okay, now that we've established things hurt, let's all take a deep breath. Breathe in, breathe out.
A couple weeks ago, Good Morning America's Mellody Hobson said, "Don't do something; just stand there." The old saying is "don't just stand there, do something" but the advice right now is the opposite. Don't panic. Don't start running around like a chicken without a head.
If your money is in a FDIC insured institution, there's no need to withdraw your cash and bury it in the back yard. But make sure your institution IS FDIC insured; not all are. If it isn't, you might ask yourself why you put your money somewhere that didn't insure it.... Better yet, talk to your financial adviser. Let him/her earn their keep; let them help you figure out what you should be, and shouldn't be, doing in this volatile market situation.
It is WAY too easy to panic in this environment. The news is all doom and gloom. It really is enough to make you crazy. But, for most of us, if we just hold on tight, we'll be able to ride it out. And, in my very humble opinion, that's the best thing we, as individuals, can do for ourselves and for our economy.
Buckle down, hunker down, settle down.
Practice frugality. Look it up if you don't know what it means.
It's autumn; it's a great time to nest.
I am not in the business of giving financial advice; this blog is NOT to be considered as such. It's life advice.... solely food for thought.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Thanks pokey!
My youngest son sent me an email today....
Not a strange occurrence; we email almost every day, sometimes many times a day.
But this one, I received early (EARLY) in the morning, and it started my day off with a giggle:
My Karma just ran over your dogma.
Thanks, pokey! xoxo
Not a strange occurrence; we email almost every day, sometimes many times a day.
But this one, I received early (EARLY) in the morning, and it started my day off with a giggle:
My Karma just ran over your dogma.
Thanks, pokey! xoxo
Thursday, September 25, 2008
The Boot, Part..... 3?
Went to see my buddy, the foot doctor, today.
Once again, he managed to poke me in the magic spot, which sent jolts of pain through my foot, then settled into a good old throb.
Throb is a funny word, no?
Throb is not a funny feeling.
So. He "thinks" the bone "should" be healed by now.... and the throbbing he just set off? "Probably tendonitis." For which he offered to "put some cortisone in there....", which I politely declined. Uh, buddy? Been there, done that. That hurts like a muthu!!! Not doing that again any time soon.
The boot, 2 more weeks. Except, I can now take a sneaker with me to the gym, and put it on to ride a bike! Yay! Seriously. Never thought I'd say "yay" for bike riding, but I've been without cardio for 4+ weeks now, and I need my cardio! Then, in the third week, I can begin the transition to a sneaker for walking.
This is going to be a long rehab, I'm afraid. And require patience, which I don't generally have much of.
By the way, my family doctor told me on Monday that he would expect it to take 6-8 weeks to heal. I've been in the boot for 4 weeks and 2 days. I'm not so sure the throbbing is tendonitis. I'm not a doctor and all, but I'm more inclined to believe it's still unhealed bone. But what do I know?
Once again, he managed to poke me in the magic spot, which sent jolts of pain through my foot, then settled into a good old throb.
Throb is a funny word, no?
Throb is not a funny feeling.
So. He "thinks" the bone "should" be healed by now.... and the throbbing he just set off? "Probably tendonitis." For which he offered to "put some cortisone in there....", which I politely declined. Uh, buddy? Been there, done that. That hurts like a muthu!!! Not doing that again any time soon.
The boot, 2 more weeks. Except, I can now take a sneaker with me to the gym, and put it on to ride a bike! Yay! Seriously. Never thought I'd say "yay" for bike riding, but I've been without cardio for 4+ weeks now, and I need my cardio! Then, in the third week, I can begin the transition to a sneaker for walking.
This is going to be a long rehab, I'm afraid. And require patience, which I don't generally have much of.
By the way, my family doctor told me on Monday that he would expect it to take 6-8 weeks to heal. I've been in the boot for 4 weeks and 2 days. I'm not so sure the throbbing is tendonitis. I'm not a doctor and all, but I'm more inclined to believe it's still unhealed bone. But what do I know?
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
By the Way....
Although I have not written about the Presidential Election, that does not mean I don't care.
I care very deeply about this election.
I have chosen my candidate.
Please choose your candidate carefully, thoughtfully, and intelligently. Go read something like factcheck.org. Don't read the candidates' own sites; they're biased. Find an unbiased source that is holding them accountable.
Consider the impact a President has on the future as he appoints Supreme Court Justices.
Consider the person "a heartbeat away."
I believe this election will be a turning point for my country. The question is: which way will we turn?
God Bless America.
I care very deeply about this election.
I have chosen my candidate.
Please choose your candidate carefully, thoughtfully, and intelligently. Go read something like factcheck.org. Don't read the candidates' own sites; they're biased. Find an unbiased source that is holding them accountable.
Consider the impact a President has on the future as he appoints Supreme Court Justices.
Consider the person "a heartbeat away."
I believe this election will be a turning point for my country. The question is: which way will we turn?
God Bless America.
Crisis, Part 2!
OK. Not funny....
I got dressed, did my hair, put on makeup!!! All to run some errands. Remember the bird food shortage? Well, that, plus the post office, and Target, with maybe a little stop off at Starbucks for a chai.... that was the plan.
The garage door won't open.
Last night, Hubby and I were in the kitchen when we heard this huge crash! We both said, "WHAT THE HECK????" But when he went out to the garage, which is where the crash sounded like it came from, there was nothing amiss. So, we figured it must have been from the neighbor's garage.
This morning, he left thru the garage. Son left thru the garage. I, however, can't leave thru the garage because we have a broken spring. And I can't open it manually, either, because we have a broken spring. OY!
The good news, I suppose, is that the repairman is coming this afternoon. The bad news, isn't there always bad news? is that it is not covered by our home warranty. I don't have a choice. I can't get my car out of the garage without getting the spring repaired.
Big sigh. What'cha gonna do?
I got dressed, did my hair, put on makeup!!! All to run some errands. Remember the bird food shortage? Well, that, plus the post office, and Target, with maybe a little stop off at Starbucks for a chai.... that was the plan.
The garage door won't open.
Last night, Hubby and I were in the kitchen when we heard this huge crash! We both said, "WHAT THE HECK????" But when he went out to the garage, which is where the crash sounded like it came from, there was nothing amiss. So, we figured it must have been from the neighbor's garage.
This morning, he left thru the garage. Son left thru the garage. I, however, can't leave thru the garage because we have a broken spring. And I can't open it manually, either, because we have a broken spring. OY!
The good news, I suppose, is that the repairman is coming this afternoon. The bad news, isn't there always bad news? is that it is not covered by our home warranty. I don't have a choice. I can't get my car out of the garage without getting the spring repaired.
Big sigh. What'cha gonna do?
Oh No! Crisis at Casa Moi!!
I'm out of bird food!!!
LOL
Honestly, I need to go to Lowe's this morning and get bird seed. I have 5 feeders outside my kitchen window and they are busy all day. It's not unusual to count 25+ birds out there, eating, fighting, watching, drinking, bathing, waiting patiently....
And yesterday afternoon, the last of the food went into the feeders, most of which was then depleted by nightfall. So, this morning, they'll just have to resort to ground eating, and clean up all the stuff they throw out of the feeders day after day. Only the finch feeders have seed this morning, and maybe the suet feeder- still too dark to see for sure.
I'm positive they'll survive until Lowe's opens, and I can go gather their food for them. And lay it out like a banquet. LOL
Hubby says I've spoiled the birds, just like I spoiled the boys.
True words, for sure.
LOL
Honestly, I need to go to Lowe's this morning and get bird seed. I have 5 feeders outside my kitchen window and they are busy all day. It's not unusual to count 25+ birds out there, eating, fighting, watching, drinking, bathing, waiting patiently....
And yesterday afternoon, the last of the food went into the feeders, most of which was then depleted by nightfall. So, this morning, they'll just have to resort to ground eating, and clean up all the stuff they throw out of the feeders day after day. Only the finch feeders have seed this morning, and maybe the suet feeder- still too dark to see for sure.
I'm positive they'll survive until Lowe's opens, and I can go gather their food for them. And lay it out like a banquet. LOL
Hubby says I've spoiled the birds, just like I spoiled the boys.
True words, for sure.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The Sounds of Early Morning
Given the choice, I would not be a "dark of the morning" riser. I don't enjoy getting up before the sun, for the most part.
But, hey, stuff happens.
Right now, as it happens, I AM rising before the sun. Sitting in my kitchen this morning, in the still quiet of my house, I listened to the world around me....
In the not-so-distant distance, I could hear traffic on the turnpike. Not an unpleasant noise, just the hum of tires on asphalt as commuters and truckers start their day too early, too.
In my neighborhood, an occasional car crept past, well within the 25 mph speed limit.
Right outside my kitchen window, my neighbor's garage door went up. Then, the scrape of garbage cans being pulled to the curb- a reminder that this is Tuesday. Soon after, his truck started up and pulled out. No garage going down.... wonder if he forgot, or if the Wife is leaving soon, too?
Then, the call of the plovers as they begin their pre-dawn hunt for food. Do they have sonar? How do they not crash in the morning darkness?
I know, as the sun begins to rise the sounds will increase. More traffic, near and far; more birds as they visit the feeders just outside my window; construction noise from across the way.... the day will begin in earnest.
But for those moments in the dark of morning, the sounds seem somehow more intimate, more gentle, more exclusive. It's just me, and the plovers, and the dark.
But, hey, stuff happens.
Right now, as it happens, I AM rising before the sun. Sitting in my kitchen this morning, in the still quiet of my house, I listened to the world around me....
In the not-so-distant distance, I could hear traffic on the turnpike. Not an unpleasant noise, just the hum of tires on asphalt as commuters and truckers start their day too early, too.
In my neighborhood, an occasional car crept past, well within the 25 mph speed limit.
Right outside my kitchen window, my neighbor's garage door went up. Then, the scrape of garbage cans being pulled to the curb- a reminder that this is Tuesday. Soon after, his truck started up and pulled out. No garage going down.... wonder if he forgot, or if the Wife is leaving soon, too?
Then, the call of the plovers as they begin their pre-dawn hunt for food. Do they have sonar? How do they not crash in the morning darkness?
I know, as the sun begins to rise the sounds will increase. More traffic, near and far; more birds as they visit the feeders just outside my window; construction noise from across the way.... the day will begin in earnest.
But for those moments in the dark of morning, the sounds seem somehow more intimate, more gentle, more exclusive. It's just me, and the plovers, and the dark.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Yikes! What Have I Done??
In case you couldn't tell by the photo over there ------------------>
I'm naturally a blond.
Today, I am a brunette. LOL
I've done this silly thing 3 times in my life, now- the trying a different look thing. It just doesn't work for me! Some women can change hair color like changing hats, and they look good as blonds, brunettes, redheads....
Me? Not so much.
Even though I chose a color that's called "Light Golden Brown" it's still way too dark for my pale Nordic skin tones. Oy vey.
Well, it's just hair. In a couple weeks, I'll start lightening it up again....
LOL
So much for trying a new look. Been there, done that, not crazy about it. Guess I'll stick with the same ole, same ole.
I'm naturally a blond.
Today, I am a brunette. LOL
I've done this silly thing 3 times in my life, now- the trying a different look thing. It just doesn't work for me! Some women can change hair color like changing hats, and they look good as blonds, brunettes, redheads....
Me? Not so much.
Even though I chose a color that's called "Light Golden Brown" it's still way too dark for my pale Nordic skin tones. Oy vey.
Well, it's just hair. In a couple weeks, I'll start lightening it up again....
LOL
So much for trying a new look. Been there, done that, not crazy about it. Guess I'll stick with the same ole, same ole.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Cook or Clean, Your Choice
The next time someone in my household invites someone else, a.k.a. company, for dinner with less than 1 full week's notice, there will be serious consequences.
Cook or clean.
The offender will get to do all the cooking or all the cleaning. Their choice. But I'm not doing the cooking and the cleaning for someone else's company on 2 days' notice again without some serious payback.
Especially wearing das boot. Come on, people.
Cook or clean.
The offender will get to do all the cooking or all the cleaning. Their choice. But I'm not doing the cooking and the cleaning for someone else's company on 2 days' notice again without some serious payback.
Especially wearing das boot. Come on, people.
Mass Transit, German Style
Continuing my series of mass transit blogs, let's talk Germany!
Last October, the hubby and I went to Germany. Not sure if he'd been there previously, but it was my first visit. Given the turmoil of last summer and fall, I did not have the time and/or mental energy to learn much German language before our trip. As the time for our departure drew nearer, I began to fret a bit about my lack of language skills. It's not that I expected or needed to be fluent by any means, but I like to have a few words ready when I travel abroad. Everyone around me said, "Don't worry; everyone speaks some English these days."
not so much.
First of all, hubby was going for a "convention" in Dusseldorf, and all the hotels were fully booked as early as March. So, we were booked into a hotel in Essen, about 30 km northeast of Dusseldorf.
(I realize this is not like my other mass transit blogs.... this does require a bit more of the telling of the story.... hang with me....)
After getting off the plane and navigating through customs and immigration, we stopped off at the information desk, where the lovely lady did, in fact, speak excellent English! Yay! She gave us directions to get from the airport to our hotel using public transport. It was kind of convoluted, though, and I began to worry just a bit. First, we found the SkyTrain, which would take us from the airport to the train. At the train station, then, we needed to buy tickets to Essen and board the correct train. Not quite as easy because none of the ticket sellers spoke English, but a simple "Essen" and 2 fingers did the trick. Tickets in hand, the hunt for the correct track began, suitcases in tow. There were probably 8 tracks, maybe more. And trains coming through very often, for points all over Germany, and beyond. Not realizing that it didn't matter which train to Essen we caught, and that they ran fairly often, we were in a hurry to catch the next one. Breathless, we did, indeed, get on the next train to Essen.
These trains are fast, clean, comfortable, and widely used. Mostly by people traveling between cities, as commuters or visitors, most of whom don't have much in the way of luggage. That means, there's really no place to put suitcases, which we have 2 of. We sat in the entry/exit area, on the steps to the upper section; it's the only place to really put luggage. Every time we stopped, people got on, people got off, and we (and our suitcases) were in the way. No one was ever rude, though, just in a hurry. We arrived at a station where, for some reason, I thought we needed to get off. It's not Essen. I don't even remember now where it was, but I was certain we needed to get off and change trains. I blame it on jetlag.... In fact, we did not need to get off. The train we were on would have taken us to Essen. But we got off, found a "worker" on the platform and asked for the train to Essen. He pointed at the train, departing, that we had just disembarked from. Hubby looked at me, shook his head in amusement and laughed. We waited for the next train to Essen, about 15 minutes later.
Finally, in Essen, we disembarked, navigated the underground tunnels and emerged into the fall afternoon sunlight. Really, it was lovely. We were exhausted. We got into a waiting taxi and hubby gave the driver the name of our hotel. The driver looked perplexed. He gestured "what?" Hubby repeated the name of our hotel. The driver rolled down his window and yelled at the drivers standing around; no one seemed to recognize the name of our hotel. I started laughing, a little hysterically, probably. Hubby, ever prepared, pulled out the printed confirmation and handed it to the driver, who read the address, thought for a moment, handed the paper back and put the car in gear. Hubby said, "yes?" Driver shrugged and wagged his head in the universal gesture of "maybe, maybe not, we'll see." He drove. And drove. I thought we're going in circles. I thought Essen's a small town and we're driving a really long time. Suddenly, Driver pulled a "U-y" in the middle of the street, pulled over to the curb, put the car in park and jumped out. We looked out the window, looking for a hotel. Driver pointed to a sign over a doorway. He's right; this IS our hotel.
We paid; we tipped; we clambered out and gathered our stuff.
After settling in at our hotel, where, by the way, no one speaks English, we decided to go for a walk to the town center. It is our practice to try to get on local time as soon as possible, so we needed to stay up another 6-8 hours. The lady at the front desks walked out with us and pointed us to the train. We asked her, "Can we walk?" She shook her head and said, "No English." We mimicked walking with our fingers. "Walk" (fingers) "city center?" (raised eyebrows) She wagged her finger emphatically and said, "No! train" and pointed. We obeyed.
At the subway/train station there are no turnstiles, no ticket sellers, no "workers" or attendants of any kind. There is a ticket machine which I approached with confidence. I tapped the touchscreen, and voila! Instructions appeared, in German. Clueless, we looked around. There was a teenage girl, sitting, reading, waiting. I approached her and offered a hesitant "guten tag" to which she replied. I asked, "Do you speak English?" She replied, as do 99.9% of people I've ever asked, "A little." I asked, "Can you help me buy a train ticket?" She was wonderful!!!! She went with me to the machine; she showed me step by step what I needed to do. I held out a handful of money to pay for my tickets, which made her giggle as she sorted through to find the coins she needed, showing me all along the way, "this, this, this." The subway was fine. It was a subway. It got us where we wanted to go.
The next day, we noticed a trolley running in the street in front of our hotel. We pointed and asked the good lady at the front desk, who did not speak English, "City center?" She nodded and pointed the other way, away from the train station. So we decided to try the trolley. It became our preferred means of transportation during our stay. Because it is above ground, you see the city! You see the restaurants, the stores, the markets, the street signs; you get a feel for the lay of the land that you don't get when you're traveling underground. You buy a ticket at the stop by putting coins in a machine that then spits out a ticket at you, which no one will ever check, probably, but you better have it just in case. We did see tickets being checked, but ours never were. I loved the trolley. I was very comfortable riding it by myself. I was confident that I knew where I was, where I wanted to go and how to get there. The one kind of odd thing was that the trolley platform in the city center was underground, so that was a little confusing the first time.
Next time: the train to Cologne and Aachen.
Last October, the hubby and I went to Germany. Not sure if he'd been there previously, but it was my first visit. Given the turmoil of last summer and fall, I did not have the time and/or mental energy to learn much German language before our trip. As the time for our departure drew nearer, I began to fret a bit about my lack of language skills. It's not that I expected or needed to be fluent by any means, but I like to have a few words ready when I travel abroad. Everyone around me said, "Don't worry; everyone speaks some English these days."
not so much.
First of all, hubby was going for a "convention" in Dusseldorf, and all the hotels were fully booked as early as March. So, we were booked into a hotel in Essen, about 30 km northeast of Dusseldorf.
(I realize this is not like my other mass transit blogs.... this does require a bit more of the telling of the story.... hang with me....)
After getting off the plane and navigating through customs and immigration, we stopped off at the information desk, where the lovely lady did, in fact, speak excellent English! Yay! She gave us directions to get from the airport to our hotel using public transport. It was kind of convoluted, though, and I began to worry just a bit. First, we found the SkyTrain, which would take us from the airport to the train. At the train station, then, we needed to buy tickets to Essen and board the correct train. Not quite as easy because none of the ticket sellers spoke English, but a simple "Essen" and 2 fingers did the trick. Tickets in hand, the hunt for the correct track began, suitcases in tow. There were probably 8 tracks, maybe more. And trains coming through very often, for points all over Germany, and beyond. Not realizing that it didn't matter which train to Essen we caught, and that they ran fairly often, we were in a hurry to catch the next one. Breathless, we did, indeed, get on the next train to Essen.
These trains are fast, clean, comfortable, and widely used. Mostly by people traveling between cities, as commuters or visitors, most of whom don't have much in the way of luggage. That means, there's really no place to put suitcases, which we have 2 of. We sat in the entry/exit area, on the steps to the upper section; it's the only place to really put luggage. Every time we stopped, people got on, people got off, and we (and our suitcases) were in the way. No one was ever rude, though, just in a hurry. We arrived at a station where, for some reason, I thought we needed to get off. It's not Essen. I don't even remember now where it was, but I was certain we needed to get off and change trains. I blame it on jetlag.... In fact, we did not need to get off. The train we were on would have taken us to Essen. But we got off, found a "worker" on the platform and asked for the train to Essen. He pointed at the train, departing, that we had just disembarked from. Hubby looked at me, shook his head in amusement and laughed. We waited for the next train to Essen, about 15 minutes later.
Finally, in Essen, we disembarked, navigated the underground tunnels and emerged into the fall afternoon sunlight. Really, it was lovely. We were exhausted. We got into a waiting taxi and hubby gave the driver the name of our hotel. The driver looked perplexed. He gestured "what?" Hubby repeated the name of our hotel. The driver rolled down his window and yelled at the drivers standing around; no one seemed to recognize the name of our hotel. I started laughing, a little hysterically, probably. Hubby, ever prepared, pulled out the printed confirmation and handed it to the driver, who read the address, thought for a moment, handed the paper back and put the car in gear. Hubby said, "yes?" Driver shrugged and wagged his head in the universal gesture of "maybe, maybe not, we'll see." He drove. And drove. I thought we're going in circles. I thought Essen's a small town and we're driving a really long time. Suddenly, Driver pulled a "U-y" in the middle of the street, pulled over to the curb, put the car in park and jumped out. We looked out the window, looking for a hotel. Driver pointed to a sign over a doorway. He's right; this IS our hotel.
We paid; we tipped; we clambered out and gathered our stuff.
After settling in at our hotel, where, by the way, no one speaks English, we decided to go for a walk to the town center. It is our practice to try to get on local time as soon as possible, so we needed to stay up another 6-8 hours. The lady at the front desks walked out with us and pointed us to the train. We asked her, "Can we walk?" She shook her head and said, "No English." We mimicked walking with our fingers. "Walk" (fingers) "city center?" (raised eyebrows) She wagged her finger emphatically and said, "No! train" and pointed. We obeyed.
At the subway/train station there are no turnstiles, no ticket sellers, no "workers" or attendants of any kind. There is a ticket machine which I approached with confidence. I tapped the touchscreen, and voila! Instructions appeared, in German. Clueless, we looked around. There was a teenage girl, sitting, reading, waiting. I approached her and offered a hesitant "guten tag" to which she replied. I asked, "Do you speak English?" She replied, as do 99.9% of people I've ever asked, "A little." I asked, "Can you help me buy a train ticket?" She was wonderful!!!! She went with me to the machine; she showed me step by step what I needed to do. I held out a handful of money to pay for my tickets, which made her giggle as she sorted through to find the coins she needed, showing me all along the way, "this, this, this." The subway was fine. It was a subway. It got us where we wanted to go.
The next day, we noticed a trolley running in the street in front of our hotel. We pointed and asked the good lady at the front desk, who did not speak English, "City center?" She nodded and pointed the other way, away from the train station. So we decided to try the trolley. It became our preferred means of transportation during our stay. Because it is above ground, you see the city! You see the restaurants, the stores, the markets, the street signs; you get a feel for the lay of the land that you don't get when you're traveling underground. You buy a ticket at the stop by putting coins in a machine that then spits out a ticket at you, which no one will ever check, probably, but you better have it just in case. We did see tickets being checked, but ours never were. I loved the trolley. I was very comfortable riding it by myself. I was confident that I knew where I was, where I wanted to go and how to get there. The one kind of odd thing was that the trolley platform in the city center was underground, so that was a little confusing the first time.
Next time: the train to Cologne and Aachen.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Thinking....
One morning, I came down to my family room to check email, and turned on the TV to catch the morning news.
The TV turned on to Joyce Meyer. Hmmm.... what the heck? I don't watch televangelists, really. So finding Joyce on my TV unexpectedly made me go "huh?"
This strange thing had happened once before, and that time I sat and watched, out of curiosity more than anything else, and what Joyce said that day spoke directly to me. I took it as a sign.
Having had Joyce "speak to me" once before, I sat down and waited for her to speak to me again. And she didn't disappoint. This particular day, she was talking about getting rid of things that no longer serve us. She talked about how hard it is to let go of things, relationships, habits, that once served us well, but no longer do. And I said, "ah ha."
My life has changed so much in the past year that I barely recognize it anymore. Yet, I hold on to all those old habits, even though they don't really fit any more. They served me well in the past, but not so much in this new place, this new reality.
I've been pondering Joyce's words for weeks now. I've been turning them around, upside down and inside out in my head, over and over. And I think they've finally made it to my heart.
It is time to sort through the old "stuff" and see what really still fits, and what's best to let go.
disclaimer: not you, Chris. Come see me.
The TV turned on to Joyce Meyer. Hmmm.... what the heck? I don't watch televangelists, really. So finding Joyce on my TV unexpectedly made me go "huh?"
This strange thing had happened once before, and that time I sat and watched, out of curiosity more than anything else, and what Joyce said that day spoke directly to me. I took it as a sign.
Having had Joyce "speak to me" once before, I sat down and waited for her to speak to me again. And she didn't disappoint. This particular day, she was talking about getting rid of things that no longer serve us. She talked about how hard it is to let go of things, relationships, habits, that once served us well, but no longer do. And I said, "ah ha."
My life has changed so much in the past year that I barely recognize it anymore. Yet, I hold on to all those old habits, even though they don't really fit any more. They served me well in the past, but not so much in this new place, this new reality.
I've been pondering Joyce's words for weeks now. I've been turning them around, upside down and inside out in my head, over and over. And I think they've finally made it to my heart.
It is time to sort through the old "stuff" and see what really still fits, and what's best to let go.
disclaimer: not you, Chris. Come see me.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Back to the Foot Doctor
Today is my 2 week check up.
I'm honestly thinking it's a waste of time. The standard treatment time for foot fractures is 4-6 weeks and it's only been 2. And I've probably been "on" it more than I should (trip to Chicago, etc.) and my nutrition has been pretty poor lately, not optimal for bone healing.
If he wants to do more x-rays, I probably will decline for now. I've had too many x-rays in the past year, and I think 2 weeks is too soon to see complete healing.
Eh, what do I know, right?
(by the way.... I "knew" it was fractured, didn't I???)
I'm honestly thinking it's a waste of time. The standard treatment time for foot fractures is 4-6 weeks and it's only been 2. And I've probably been "on" it more than I should (trip to Chicago, etc.) and my nutrition has been pretty poor lately, not optimal for bone healing.
If he wants to do more x-rays, I probably will decline for now. I've had too many x-rays in the past year, and I think 2 weeks is too soon to see complete healing.
Eh, what do I know, right?
(by the way.... I "knew" it was fractured, didn't I???)
Mass Transit, London and Paris
London's underground, the Tube, is one of The Best mass transit systems anywhere: clean, punctual, and easy to navigate! The map is easy to figure out; the stations are easy to find; and it's all in English! woo hoo!! rofl
Is it perfect? Of course not. If the station you need happens to be closed, it's probably a pretty good walk to the next. But the other side of that coin is that it moves pretty quickly because it's not stopping every 1/4 mile either! And it can, like any other mass transit system, get very crowded at peak hours. It has over 250 stations, many of them in the 'burbs and outlaying areas. Great for getting to Wimbledon, and Windsor Castle!
It's not in English in Paris. But you really only need a couple words of French to figure it out. And any travel guide/translator will have those couple of words you need.
Other than that, Paris' subway system is very good, also. Like London, it's clean and punctual, and not too difficult to navigate. And, it is very, very extensive- 368 stations!!! Many of the entrances still have the Art Nouveau designs which make them easy to spot, and fun to photograph.
We had a couple scares on the Paris system that changed how we move around as a family.... Now, when we go through turnstiles or board anything, we go parent, kid, kid, parent. That way, if a kid gets 'stuck' on the other side, there's a parent there, too. Granted, now my kids are grown ups, but at least there are 2 of us together if one of them gets stranded. If both parents are through a turnstile, and a kid gets caught because his ticket doesn't work it's scary! Scarier still, both parents are ON a train and the doors start to close while a kid is still outside on the platform!! Our experience on the train in Paris, is that the doors do NOT open back up just because there is a body part in the way. I walked around Paris, bruised for days, because I stepped into a closing doorway to ensure my kid got ON the same train as me.
Lesson: parent-kid-kid-parent. Add as many kids in the middle there as you need, but a parent should go through or on first, and last.
Is it perfect? Of course not. If the station you need happens to be closed, it's probably a pretty good walk to the next. But the other side of that coin is that it moves pretty quickly because it's not stopping every 1/4 mile either! And it can, like any other mass transit system, get very crowded at peak hours. It has over 250 stations, many of them in the 'burbs and outlaying areas. Great for getting to Wimbledon, and Windsor Castle!
It's not in English in Paris. But you really only need a couple words of French to figure it out. And any travel guide/translator will have those couple of words you need.
Other than that, Paris' subway system is very good, also. Like London, it's clean and punctual, and not too difficult to navigate. And, it is very, very extensive- 368 stations!!! Many of the entrances still have the Art Nouveau designs which make them easy to spot, and fun to photograph.
We had a couple scares on the Paris system that changed how we move around as a family.... Now, when we go through turnstiles or board anything, we go parent, kid, kid, parent. That way, if a kid gets 'stuck' on the other side, there's a parent there, too. Granted, now my kids are grown ups, but at least there are 2 of us together if one of them gets stranded. If both parents are through a turnstile, and a kid gets caught because his ticket doesn't work it's scary! Scarier still, both parents are ON a train and the doors start to close while a kid is still outside on the platform!! Our experience on the train in Paris, is that the doors do NOT open back up just because there is a body part in the way. I walked around Paris, bruised for days, because I stepped into a closing doorway to ensure my kid got ON the same train as me.
Lesson: parent-kid-kid-parent. Add as many kids in the middle there as you need, but a parent should go through or on first, and last.
Monday, September 8, 2008
oh the misery
Chicago, on a chilly, wet Monday in September.
Walking around in a cam walker, without a map, looking for 1 building.
Did I mention chilly and wet? Raining sideways, even.
Oh, the misery of cold, wet feet.
Why, then, did we laugh so much? Because it is all so typical of my journeys.
LOL, indeed.
Walking around in a cam walker, without a map, looking for 1 building.
Did I mention chilly and wet? Raining sideways, even.
Oh, the misery of cold, wet feet.
Why, then, did we laugh so much? Because it is all so typical of my journeys.
LOL, indeed.
Mass Transit
I'm in Chicago today, with my younger son, to visit the French consulate for his student visa. Let's say it's a bittersweet trip for me. I get to spend a couple days with him in a new place, exploring, chatting away. But Saturday (his departure for France) looms too close for me.
Putting that aside for now . . .
Today, we're trying out Chicago's mass transit. Not even sure what it's properly called. Is it the Metra? the El? hmmm.
It got me thinking. We've "done" mass transit in a lot of places around the world:
New York City is famous for it's subway system, right? It is crowded and noisy, though less polluted than it once was. I always emerge from the subway disoriented; I'm never quite sure which direction I need to head off in. In the past few years, we've started staying across the Hudson River in a hotel in Weehawken and take the ferry across the river, then a bus uptown. I love the ferry! Never mind my fear of water; the ride is short, the skyline is magnificent, and I never tire of the NYC skyline!
Washington, DC has a good underground system, too. We recently used it when we were in DC for July 4th, so I can't speak to it's crowdedness, because it was very crowded that weekend! But it was clean and well marked, inexpensive, and fast. That's what a subway should be, right? Our problem in DC (and we always have a problem.... but that's another story) was that 2 of our metro cards got de-magnetized. We didn't know that if you put them near your cell phone that would happen.... It can, and it did. They'll replace them for you free of charge, but it requires standing in a line. Lesson? Don't put your card in the same pocket as your cell phone. Especially, don't put it in your cell phone holder like one of us did! rofl. Luckily for us, both got demagnetized on the same trip, so we only had to stand in line once for both of them.
Next time: London and Paris!
Putting that aside for now . . .
Today, we're trying out Chicago's mass transit. Not even sure what it's properly called. Is it the Metra? the El? hmmm.
It got me thinking. We've "done" mass transit in a lot of places around the world:
New York City is famous for it's subway system, right? It is crowded and noisy, though less polluted than it once was. I always emerge from the subway disoriented; I'm never quite sure which direction I need to head off in. In the past few years, we've started staying across the Hudson River in a hotel in Weehawken and take the ferry across the river, then a bus uptown. I love the ferry! Never mind my fear of water; the ride is short, the skyline is magnificent, and I never tire of the NYC skyline!
Washington, DC has a good underground system, too. We recently used it when we were in DC for July 4th, so I can't speak to it's crowdedness, because it was very crowded that weekend! But it was clean and well marked, inexpensive, and fast. That's what a subway should be, right? Our problem in DC (and we always have a problem.... but that's another story) was that 2 of our metro cards got de-magnetized. We didn't know that if you put them near your cell phone that would happen.... It can, and it did. They'll replace them for you free of charge, but it requires standing in a line. Lesson? Don't put your card in the same pocket as your cell phone. Especially, don't put it in your cell phone holder like one of us did! rofl. Luckily for us, both got demagnetized on the same trip, so we only had to stand in line once for both of them.
Next time: London and Paris!
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