Monday, June 30, 2008

Dad

Oh, yeah...I forgot to tell you about my dad. He and my mom flew home from Michigan on Saturday, despite his swollen feet and ankles that kept him from walking (they brought him from the plane in a wheelchair). The customer assistance folks at Southwest Airlines are fabulous...my mom has trouble walking very far, so I had two parents in wheelchairs, but one guy stayed with me until we got to baggage claim, got their luggage, carried it while pushing my dad all the way to my car, and helped them both into the car. You don't get much better than that. Fly Southwest...they rock!





Anyway, dad really was pretty sick. My sister had called me after she took them to the airport, and both she and her husband were crying because they had never seen him look so bad. We took him home and he climbed into bed under a heating blanket-in summer! He went to the doctor today, and they need to run some tests and take some X-rays of a spot on his lung. He was a smoker for 40 years...so if you pray, could you pray that those tests come back negative, and that his doctor here will be able to help him? Thanks.


The Last Uphill Push

It is finally all coming together for Tony the Husband's book.






It is due tomorrow, and he is writing, writing, writing as I type this. The hikes were all finished and written about, but he needed to edit them and go over them and make sure they were good (you know how writers are). So he has been doing that while I do my homework (which I am 90% done with, two days early-wonder if I'm sick??)

He has worked really hard on this and I'm very proud of him. He has been very happy while writing this...I really think he will be a professional author someday soon. Then he can give up this whole "work" thing, and just do what he likes.

In other "The Last Uphill Push" news, the move for my office is almost complete. The other half of our company moved this past weekend. Now we all work in this building:


My boss is getting punchy. The landlord at the "other" building is being quite a poop and not telling her everything that needs to be done until the last minute. Nice.

A person has to believe in something...I believe I'm going to bed. Have a good day, all!

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

It wasn't that bad...

I did go to work on Sunday, and it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I did not move stacks of boxes. I stopped at Starbucks, and there was a Pei Wei in the same building! So I got me some mad good food and some iced tea instead of coffee, it was a better day. Pei Wei has amazing healing powers...see here for proof.

I went in Monday, and was grouchy as a bear, which I think prompted them to offer me today as a day off. Which I wisely took. 'Cause I was/am tired!

And now, I'm off to sleep again! Hopefully I'll have more interesting posts later this week! More interesting-less whining!! What a goal!!

Sunday, June 22, 2008

My Dad/Fun at work

Well, now they think my dad has pneumonia, not necessarily a heart problem. So, if you prayed, it worked! Thanks VERY much. :)

Our company is moving...have I whined about that yet? Yeah. I think so, too. Yesterday I worked 13 hours without a dinner break. Nice, huh? And, I worked moving piles of boxes from wherever the idiot movers dropped them to where they belonged, and then to where my boss thought they should be. My feet and my back are STILL killing me, even after 12 hours of sleep/rest and pain relievers. I'm supposed to go back in today. If I do, I WILL NOT move any more piles of boxes. They may get a workman's comp claim as it is, if the back pain doesn't improve.

I am not going in for very long today. AND I'm stopping for Starbucks on the way. Sorry I'm cranky today...apparently my new goal is to try and kill myself every weekend (remember the hike last weekend?). I will try to be cheerier later.

Friday, June 20, 2008

My Dad

Hello,

My dad is currently in the hospital, in Michigan. He lives here, with my mom, but they are in Michigan visiting my sister. He had a lot of chest pain and couldn't get his breath. At first they thought it was (this may be wrong...) atrial fibrillation, which means that the top two chambers of the heart are not beating in the proper rhythm. Later, they said he definitely has pneumonia, but that they are still going to check his heart anyway, just to be sure.

If anyone reading this prays, would you please pray that my dad would be okay?

Thanks. I'm off to play online games and get my mind off this.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Adventures in Hiking

My wonderful husband is writing a book on hikes in the Tonto National Forest, which I believe I have already shamelessly plugged here. He is currently on an 8-day blitzkrieg wherein he will finish seven hikes in the 8 days. Well, that was his plan anyway. I may have loused it up.

He started hiking on Wednesday of last week. Over the weekend, Tony wanted me to get a hotel room near where he's hiking (up by Payson), so that he could have a shower and a bed for a night. Ben, the wonder son, had also been hiking with him. Did I mention my fabulous son hiked 36 miles in three days with my husband? In pool shoes? 'Cause that's all we can get him to wear? And yeah, he did great. The hotel meetup would be an opportunity for Tony to bring Ben back, because although Ben is a fantastic hiker, he is 11 and eventually gets tired, unlike his oddly energetic father.

About a month ago, Tony mentioned a hike that he would really like me to do with him while he was on this series of hikes. Over the weekend, he kept telling me that this would be an easy hike. On Sunday, though, I was driving him to the trailhead because I was not planning to do this hike. My ankle was hurting and it seemed a stupid idea to hike on it. So we get to the trailhead, and Tony is putting together his camera, his notebook, his GPS thing, his water, etc. He finishes, and says "why don't you just walk a little way with me?" "Okay," I say, like an idiot. "That might be nice." So I put on the extra Camelback water-holder thingy, and we start off.

It's a lovely little trail. We're actually walking by people's backyards, and through pine trees and over cute little washes. I had stretched out my foot/ankle a bit, and it wasn't even hurting at all. So, on we go. We're talking, and having a great time, and I'm glad I came along.

We come to a hill, which is part of a mountain, of course; this being Arizona. But I am determined to be a good sport and not be a whiner, so I shut up and keep hiking all the way up the hill. Then, we walk by this beautiful (from a distance) cow pond. Up close, it's got green moldy looking stuff in it, but it's still kind of pretty. We walk up another hill, and it's not so bad either. My foot/ankle still doesn't hurt. We go on, and I'm getting slower and slower. Pretty soon I stop and look back, and we've been climbing upward, very gradually, for what looks like about a mile. Well, that explains why I'm tired! That, and there's no air up there because of the elevation.

So now, Tony pulls out his map and explains that we're getting into trouble, because we're getting behind schedule (ya think!?!). We're also short on water, he explains, because he underestimated the difficulty of this hike. But, I really want to be a good sport and be supportive. We proceed up the rest of the hill, as fast as I can make it.

The next part of the hike cannot be adequately explained with human words. We had to basically scale a cliff using very, VERY steep switchbacks on the "trail." NOW my ankle hurts. All the way down to my little toe! And Tony starts looking back, looking worried, about when we're going to be done with this hike. On the way down, I begin to lose my cool. I say, "so, this is an easy hike?" Tony says yes. I say, "Really? What is considered difficult? A vertical rock face with no ropes?" I know this kind of sarcasm doesn't help anything (except it makes me feel better).

After a long, arduous journey, during which I hear Tony scream in frustration with my slowness, I get to the bottom of the cliff. Tony had lent me his hiking stick, thinking, I guess, that it would make me faster. But to no avail. I get to the bottom and I'm totally frustrated with it, because it keeps getting stuck in the catclaw and tripping me up. I am in tears from pain and frustration, and I ever-so-kindly (NOT!) ask "How in the world can you think this is an easy hike?!? Have you not met me??? Do you not know anything about me after 20 years of marriage???!)

At this point, Tony has recovered his cool. He gently, even kindly explains to me that we are REALLY behind now, and that this has become a rescue situation because we have to get me with my bad ankle out of the forest before dark. Suddenly I thought, "eez, chill, Spike. My foot hurt and I was frustrated, but there's no need to be dramatic (yeah...right. 'Cause I wasn't, eh?)

He explains that this trail "probably" junctions with the other trail in just a little ways, and that there is a spring nearby. The spring is great news, because during out little jaunt down the completely vertical rock face with no ropes (okay, I may be exaggerating just a LITTLE bit),we are OUT of water. And not even halfway through the hike. He explains that he really needs to get to the car so that he can come back and get me, and if I can make my way even a little bit toward the road, he will come and find me (remember the line from the movie whose name I can't remember, "Whatever occurs, stay alive. I WILL find you." Yeah. He was scared, and going into husband fix-it mode. He says, "If you get lost, stop. Blow this whistle, and I will find you. You want to look at the compass every now and then, and make sure you're heading north-ish. Go to the junction, turn right, and follow trail 51. Stay on that until you get to trail 48, and then I can get you in the car. But if you can't get that far, I'll find you."

I'm thinking his stumbling (or perhaps jogging, apparently, based on his speed through the trail so far) through the dark to find me is not a good idea, so after he leaves I rest a bit. I get up and start walking, and come to the trail junction in no time. I turn right, check the compass, and start walking, when I hear rustling behind me. It's Tony. He found the spring! He filled both our Camelbacks! Yay! I tell him to go on, and I hike along. The thing is, when I'm not hiking with him, I'm doing much better. I think because I'm not trying to keep up with anybody; I'm just doing my own thing. It's much easier. I do get confused a few times because the trail crosses the river bottom nine million times, and each time it does I have to re-locate the trail. Happily, he has made several cairns for my dumb self to use to find the trail. He also has the hiking stick, and the hiking stick makes a funny-looking, ant-hill-esque divot in the ground. I also can see footprints, and they're next to the ant-hill-esque thing, so whenever I find those I know I'm on the right track.

Along the way I hear more rustling, and I figure it's Tony coming back for his lame, wimpy wife. But I look at where the rustling is, and there is a GINORMOUS set of antlers rubbing against the brush above me (by at least 30 feet, so not to worry; no danger). I'm momentarily freaked out, but I go on. After a few more river crossings, I'm walking along and see something in the distance. Aha! It must be Tony, right? Nope. More deer. These are on the other side of the river bottom from me, but they, too, are GINORMOUS! They are eating their dinner on the slope, and they look up as they see me, but they don't run. We have a nice chat, and I pee in the woods, because by now my water is gone again, and I move on.

Shortly after this, I see something waving in the distance. I get to it, and it's a note from Tony. It says:

YOU MADE IT!
I LOVE YOU!!
Take this with you when you see it
So I know you've made it this far.


So, I got to the end of the friggin' trail. He is delighted I made it to the end and he doesn't have to bumble through the forest with a flashlight to find me. He brought Gatorade, and Cherry Coke. Cherry Coke was the first gift he ever gave me-we met at college, and my birthday is in September. We both had jobs on campus, but no one had been paid yet. He knew I like Cherry Coke, and bought me a bottle for my birthday. It's always special when he gets it for me.

In the car, on the way back to his next trailhead, I say, "Okay, so I'm great at crafting with the kids, and knitting, and crocheting. I'm fabulous at tetherball, I bake fantastic cookies, and I can walk really well. But I don't think hiking is really my sport." He agreed.

We have dinner, and I drive home.

The End.

Monday, June 09, 2008

Adventures in Furniture shopping...and other random observations

There is a preponderance of mushrooms. In all kinds of those "Lean-Cuisine-y" meals, apparently, which are cheap and okay for lunch at work, mushrooms spell fabulous. We went to Olive Garden the other night...mushrooms everywhere. There were lots of pasta dishes that sounded wonderful, except, as I read the description...yep. Mushrooms.

Okay, now, let's review. Mushrooms are fungus. They grow in dark, smelly places. They're gray, for goodness' sake! How can anything gray be considered food? They have a horrible, rubbery texture, almost as bad as raw oyster. Eew! Note to cooks of "Lean-Cuisine-y" foods and restaurant chefs: Go ahead, put mushrooms in some things. But they are not needed everywhere! They look and taste like dirt! Wet, smelly dirt that is made up of...well...I think we all know what. Eew!

I finished yet another class in the long, long, LONG, pondering, winding, annoying path that is school. I got an A. It was one of the cooler classes; I will say that.

My office is moving. I never, EVER want to work in an office that has to change addresses again. What. A. Stinkin. Horrible. Mess. My boss is completely stressed out at all moments. Great fun. Yeah.

We got the couch from the post below. I went to IKEA on Saturday, with my 11- and 9-year-old children. I saw a dresser perfect for the 9-year-old, who is our daughter, and who has used the same, falling apart, beat up, hand-me-down dresser for 6 of her nine years. I have no objection to hand-me-downs; I love them. But, when they are falling apart, it's time for them to go to the big furniture store in the sky.

So, anyway, I found a great dresser at IKEA that, judging by its weight, should outlast her grandchildren. Now, IKEA has signs everywhere saying that customers shouldn't hurt themselves; just ask, they say, and they'll be happy to help load things. Because you have to take everything, including couches, beds, and dressers, through the checkout. They have no little tags you can take to the front, like Toys R Us. So, I asked my son to go find one of these helpful associates to help me load the two boxes of dresser onto my nifty wheely cart. He was wearing Heelys, and needed to burn off energy. So off he goes. Time passes. More time passes. He comes back alone. He says no one will listen to him. I know, I should have gone myself, so I and the kids work together to get the two boxes of dresser onto the wheely cart. Then I go off in search of a rocking chair and the couch. While pushing the cart with the two boxes of dresser.

Did I mention that on IKEA carts, all of the wheels turn all directions. You know how the front wheels of a grocery cart go all directions so you can turn corners? ALL the wheels do this. Which probably makes the chore of taking a dresser through a checkout line lighter. But, it kills my back, because I have to keep the cart from spinning off in 67 different directions while I push it through the aisles looking for the rocking chair. Because I can't find a helpful IKEA employee to ask the location of said rocking chair. Ouch.

I eventually find the rocking chair. I'm really tired at this point, but I'm near the checkout, and I see (no kidding) a stack of the couch we want. In the middle of the aisle. Like a stack of canned peaches at the grocery store. Each on its own, pre-loaded wheely cart. Right near the register. Sweet! I go get the couch cover (it comes with a slipcover, which can be changed out when the couch needs to recover from my dogs). I say to the kids; we're going to have to do a tandem thing here, where I take the first cart to the cash register while you guys stay with the couch, then I'll come back and...no, wait. We won't get in the same line then, and I have to pay for both carts. Hmm...I know! I'll ask a helpful IKEA staff member. Except after 10 minutes, I can't get the attention of any of them. Hmm...

"Hey, Ben. Do you think you can push the dresser cart to the register?" I swear, they didn't look far away. And Ben is 11. So, "Sure I can, Mom! No problem" (grows two feet taller with pride in being asked to do something big and helpful). The poor, helpful boy wrestles the cart through tiny aisleways (I think they crowd more things in, closer to the registers, so they can laugh as customers try to wrangle couches through the stacks. It's probably good stress relief for the cashiers) to the line, only to have his idiot mother figure out that it's a self checkout. Yah. That's happening. I'm going to check out a couch myself. Sure.

So, we back up, and hey! Here come two IKEA male staff members. They should be able to help, right? "Hi, could you..." "Excuse me," they say as they step over the dresser cart, completely ignoring the plight of the idiot and her wonderful children. Sigh. We back out, turn around, and head down to one of the TWO checkouts with cashiers. With an absolutely packed store, and all kinds of checkout counters, they have TWO cashiers. We wait, angling our carts so people can walk through the aisle behind us, which IKEA has stacked with planter baskets, Lingonberry preserves, and gravy mix. I kid you not. And I like Lingonberry preserves. Really. I had it with a meal I got at the IKEA cafe during an earlier visit and it's good. Kind of similar to cranberry sauce. But I digress...

Some "helpful" staff member asks the woman behind me to please move further into the checkout line, so people can walk through (to the other cashier). Except she can't, because if you remember, I have A COUCH that I have to check out, through the cash register. She tells the staff member to get real, or open another checkout. I love her! :)

We check out, after the cashier and I have to lift the couch and flip it over so we can find the price. But, things start to turn around at this point. Not only is the cashier incredibly helpful and kind, but when we push the giant carts over to the home delivery area, across the store from where we were, we find out that they can deliver the next day! Which they do. And it is beautiful. And comfortable. And almost worth the trip to IKEA! :)

I had a migraine today. :( First in a couple months. But, after I threw up (does the sun HAVE to be so stinkin' bright when I have a migraine?) and attached and turned on the nifty pain-relief device the pain doctor gave me, when I went after my last migraine, called a TENS unit, and went back to sleep, I started to feel better. My boss called at 9:00 a.m., and 11:00 a.m., and at noon. My co-worker called at 12:30, and I decided the heck with it, got up, got ready (slowly; I still wasn't feeling great) and went in for four hours. With Vernors ginger ale, to keep me from throwing up more. It's gone now. Good machine!

I found plane tickets I can pretty much afford for our trip to Michigan this August. Tony the husband isn't going; but the kids and I are. I just need a rental car and I'm all set. I am living for the vacation this year, because I am sick of being in an office that is moving.

Did I tell you my husband is writing a book? Well, he is, and now he is finishing his book. He is doing a total of seven hikes between now and a week from Friday. The fun never ends here. :) If you want a sneak preview (or to pre-order), here is the linky to Day and Overnight Hikes in the Tonto National Forest

I hear the author is a really cool guy.

In other news...hmm...I guess it's 11:04 and I'm tired. Here's a shout out to Lauren- you're in my prayers tomorrow. I know you will soon be stressing about much better things to stress about, like weddings and damask and hot pink. Have you decided on nail polish? :)