Guess What!?

Before any of you who may have happened to see the below photo before reading this, don’t jump to conclusions. I’m just writing this on behalf of a very good friend of Diane’s who wishes to remain nameless. That’s the truth. Here’s what happened.

While working on the window sills that Diane has been waiting for since sometime in 2018, this individual once again discovered that the least little bit of inattention or, possibly, the complete disregard for simple safety measures, creates a situation that generally ends badly for the person involved. In this case I reiterate, it wasn’t me. Honest.

I know, I have a history of injuring myself in sometimes dramatic ways that generally require a trip to either Urgent Care, or an Emergency Room, whichever is closest. And, my injuries are usually caused by some sort of sharp tool, like a saw or box knife. There’s been a hammer injury, or two, too but those are minor. In the case of Diane’s friend the offending piece of equipment that caused the injury in this case was, oddly enough, my table saw.

I know, right? Figure the odds that someone besides me found a way to create considerable amount of excitement leading to a trip to Urgent Care using my table saw.

My history with that saw involves two events where I managed to cut a 1/8″ kerf across the fingerprint pad of my left forefinger and my left thumb. These were two separate event that happened years apart. I may have mentioned them in previous posts. They healed nicely, in case you’re wondering.

Diane’s friend changed things up a bit by using the same blade to rip the fingernail off his left forefinger and causing a compound fracture of that last bone of that finger when thew blade hit the bone. As a result of extracting his finger from the saw’s jaws, instead of a neat kerf like I made, he turned the end of his finger into a mess that looked suspiciously like a dollop of raspberry jam. Quite colorful and, according to Diane’s friend, extremely painful until he went into shock and his body shut off the nerves to his left hand.

I’m not making this up! I was there and saw the whole thing! He was dancing around holding his finger, make horrible “pain” faces one minute, then he stopped when the pain stopped. He continued to hold his injured finger, thankfully, to keep from dripping blood all over the place as it was leaking badly.

At Urgent Care, I was allowed to go in with Diane’s friend and was able to get a fresh photo ofd the injury. It was kinda creepy, I must say.

After a few days I, rather Diane’s friend, was sent to a Recon doctor to see what should be done. That confused me a bit because in my world, “Recon” is short for reconnaissance and has nothing to do with doctors unless the person doing the reconnaissance gets shot. Turns out the medical version of Recon means reconstructive, as in plastic surgeon which in itself does not make a lot of sense to me because it doesn’t make sense to me. But, that’s where we were sent.

At the recon doctor’s office, the bandage was removed and the PA in charged diligently removed the gel blood soaker thing from the end of Diane’s friend’s finger. It was like an artificial scab.

Thankfully, before doing all that they gave him multiple shots of lidocaine around the base of the injured finger making it severely numb.

Then a yellow gauzy thing was applied to the injury so it could be wrapped.

Then we all went home as there was nothing else they could do. So, basically, the trip to the recon doctor was kind of a waste of time because I could have wrapped the wounded digit sufficiently with just three bandaids. I know that’s true because I did just that during one of the re-wraps prescribed.

I know you know I’ve been fabricating a bit, and the wounded digit is my very own. This is what it looks like now, after a week or so of healing.

As a result of my injury I’ve been banned by Diane and more than one doctor from using power tools, once again. I’ll never get those window sills done at this rate.

Are Expiration Dates Real?

Typically, I look at expiration dates on food with a skeptical eye. It’s always been my opinion that these dates are determined by a person with very thick glasses who toils in a the basement of some government building in Salem. Or maybe Portland. There’s no science involved, just a guess based on this person’s current state of mind.

Complicating these dates is the fact that my bride, Diane, is famous for saving money at the store by frequenting what she calls the Ding and Dent aisle. Each kind of food has it’s own area for Ding and Dent sales. She gets Ding and Dent cake, Ding and Dent steaks, and Ding and Dent Half & Half, to name just a few. Sometimes she gets Ding and Dent vegetables, too.

Ding and Dent items are generally placed on sale because their Expiration Date is getting close, or has already passed. Since most of the Ding and Dent food gets cooked, there’s no danger of catching some catastrophic ailment by ignoring that date.

Until now …

I ran out of Half & Half a couple of weeks ago so I put it on the shopping list. I find it necessary to put a lot of H&H in my morning coffee to make it taste better. This is necessary to help erase the memory of many days aboard ships and various military bases where I didn’t have time to doctor the brew, drinking it black. I kept my cup topped off all day long. It kind of leaves an after taste that last for years.

The next trip to the store Diane found this…

She bought 4 of them. Little tiny pints for 50% off making them cost a paltry 25 cents after using a few coupons she normally has in her purse. Although the stamped date is labeled “Sell By”, it’s really an Expiration Date.

The photo is of the 4th pint as I drained the other 3. Number 4 was opened this morning and I poured a little of it into my cup in a dimly lit kitchen so as not to wake anyone. I drank that cup of coffee with no concern and it seemed to be fine.

When I got around to pouring my second cup it was full daylight and adding the H&H to my cup made the lumpy mess exiting the container quite apparent. To confirm my suspicion, I poured the remainder into the kitchen sink and saw that it was indeed lumpy. I did that because Diane was watching and would have objected had I capped it and put it back in the fridge. But it didn’t really smell bad so I figured that had I shaken the container it would have been just fine. The Expiration Date was only 8 days prior, right?

So, as I sit here waiting for my bowels to go on alert to explosively expel my first cup of coffee, which probably won’t happen until we’re in church, the “Lesson Learned” from this is that I should shake the heck out of these things before opening them, and prior to each use, to liquify those lumps and integrate them into the surrounding fluid thereby eliminating the threat of gastric issues. I’m pretty sure it was OK and I’m a little worry that I poured it out. It just looked really bad and we all know looks can be deceiving.

dot dot dot dot

It’s much later now and I can share that I safely made it all the way through church, retaining that first cup of tainted coffee. All I have now is the memory of the lumpy mess glopping out of that container. Perhaps I’ll just start drinking my coffee black again.

Maryssa & Matt 7.24.2021

There was a wedding. I was there with my very own lovely bride, Diane. So were my Brother’s, Jim & Jack and their brides, Donna & Wynette. It was a family affair. The bride was my Niece Steffani’s Daughter.

The trip to Nampa, Idaho was uneventful unless you consider how difficult it is for someone my age to drive a motorhome long distances without an occasional rest stop. I’m sure you’ve seen old folks bopping along the freeway in these huge rigs, wondering, as do I, how they manage to keep those things on the road. If you happen to be at an RV park when they arrive the mystery deepens when the drivers exit their vehicle and immediately grab onto their walker which their wives conveniently place at the bottom of the stairs. Watching some of them hobble around their rigs makes it a little frightening to know they were recently going 70 mph down a freeway in the driver’s seat of a vehicle that could cause untold amounts of damage should the drive become deceased while changing lanes.

But, that’s a story for another day. This day is about a wedding.

Maryssa and Matt have known each other since they were about 3-7 years old. I’m obviously guessing at their ages because I truly don’t know. I just know it’s been a long time even though I don’t know how old they are at this moment in time. Old enough to drink beer, I’m pretty sure. Not that they do, of course. Although, Maryssa is a teacher and I’m pretty sure most teachers drink beer. Or wine. It’s necessary.

Jennifer Walking up the Aisle

The wedding took place at a very stunning outdoor venue that was created just for this purpose. Not just this wedding, but anyone who wants a wedding in a stunning venue. The date was chosen based on weather predictions about when the hottest day of the year was likely to descend on Nampa. I must say, they nailed it. It was very hot. Thankfully, there was a little hand fan on each chair to help with the heat. Daniel, brother of the bride, escaped to the shade of a tree and kept his tiny little daughter (Edith) cool with a battery powered fan. Everyone else just had to sit there and sweat.

Since the bride and groom waited so long to get married there were no small children in either family available to serve as flower girls or ring bearers. So, the Best Man filled in by taking charge of the rings and Maryssa’s Grandmothers (Donna & Mary) were the Flower Girls. It was pretty awesome watching them walk down the aisle tossing rose petals all over the place. It was evident they were having a good time.

The only downside was that brother Jim, one of the Flower Girl’s husbands, had to wear a nice white shirt with a tie. It was only a downside for him. He looked quite nice. My other brother, Jack, and I wore more comfy attire.

Then came the bride.

She was stunning, of course, and it was evident that the Groom, Matt, was on the verge of losing it from the moment he saw her coming at him. Many of those in attendance had the same problem. Either that, or they had sweat running in their eyes like I did, which stings a lot, making it necessary to wipe them with anything handy.

Here’s a look at the whole group …

The Girl’s Side

The Boy’s Side
Sealed the Deal

The service was great, the knot was tied, and we adjourned to the adjacent patio, table 3, where we sat with Jim, Donna, Jack, Wynette, Jennifer, and Lydia. There was a place for Ruth, too, but she couldn’t make it. Too much turmoil in the country for a trip from Connecticut. But, she was there in spirit, I’m sure.

The food was provided by a Pizza Truck. It had it’s own wood fired pizza oven which produced some pretty darn good pizza. There was salad, too. Simple fare, but totally appropriate for this group.

The wedding cake was small, perfect for the bride and groom, and everyone else ate the many cupcakes scattered around their big cake. From a food perspective, it was totally unique in my experience and seemed to be just perfect for those involved. The result was a very relaxed reception.

There was open bar, too. The most popular item was Moscato wine. By the time the bar ran out of that, those who drank it weren’t very picky about what to replace it with. My favorite thing in the bar area was a neverending supply of popcorn. I just love that stuff.

A tradition at weddings is for all married couples to dance. As the dance progresses, the DJ announces that those who have been married less than 5 hours should leave the dance floor. This progresses as the numbers increase and the number of couples on the floor quickly dwindles until there are just a few left. In this case, the last three couples standing were my brothers, me, and our wives. Of those three, Diane and I left first at 53. Jack and Wynette held out until he got to 58, then Jim and Donna won with 62. Between us, that’s 173 years of wedded bliss. Kinda cool.

Diane and I were eliminated

Jack did a great job of swing dancing with Maryssa, for a long time, and I danced with Diane as often as something came up on the play list that was danceable.

Our Girls displaying their rings – Jennifer on the left, Lydia on the right

I also danced with our daughter, Jennifer, and granddaughter, Lydia, neither of whom I’ve had the honor of dancing with previously. It was really nice. Diane and I waited a long time for a good song to play so we could do our fast dance, but the music just kept getting louder meant for a younger crowd. So, we made our departure, wishing the newlyweds the best of luck.

The next day, Steffani, mother of the bride, had a brunch for everyone who attended the wedding. After eating we all watched Mr. and Mrs. Prosser open their wedding gifts. At the appropriate time, we left and went to Jim and Donna’s to have some brother/sister time before parting ways. We don’t often have the opportunity to visit as a group any more so that time is precious.

The next morning Diane and I departed Nampa, heading west. Destination, Home, with an overnight stop in Boardman.

It was a good trip.