Category Archives: Stupid Stuff

Silly Me

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I failed to report a recent malfunction of my brain cavity … after I got the old ’68 truck working we loaded it up with all manner of things we no longer need and no one else wants. It was going to the dump. At the dump they have bins into which we can freely toss metal, cans, glass, and cardboard prior to weighing and dumping the real junk.

While tossing out the metal I came across two sets of lawn mower blades from my mower. The mulching blades were well battered but the vacuum blades looked pretty straight. After making the observation about the vacuum blades I tossed them in the bin.

Later that day, when I decided to install the vacuum blades, I discovered that I’d tossed the good ones. Really dumb, huh? Now I have to save up $60 to replace them. Until then I must mulch the yard, rain or shine.

Diane said.

Sad News

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Well, it’s finally happened. After spending the best years of my life attempting to fulfill the desires and wishes of someone who was a stranger to me in 1960, she’s accepted my most recent offer to get a lawyer and split the sheets. This is something I’ve alluded to, in fun, of the years and I never thought she would actually take me up on it. But, she did.

Now I have to either find a lawyer, or just leave. She’s agreed to let me have the motor home and the old pickup, and the PT Cruiser so I’ll have a place to stay, transportation that works, and a truck to work on. I’ll be looking for a new place to park the Winnie, so if any of you can find it in your heart to provide a temporary parking place, I’d appreciate it. Perhaps someone will trade time in their yard for one of the power tools I won’t be able to bring with me. It’s kind of pointless to even try doing that since I won’t be starting any more projects. So, they are up for grabs as either barter, or cash. Whichever works.

Since electricity will only be available by my benefactors, or when I get the generator running, this could be the last post you receive from me for a while. I’ll return as soon as I can.

Until then, I trust that each of you will continue to enjoy your lives and that I may have added a little joy to your days with my mental wanderings. Stay safe and be happy. Now, it’s time to go.

Oh, by the way, Happy April Fools Day.

 

A Shameless Plug For Chevrolet

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At this time in space, 1225 pm, we are nearing Sacramento, home to one of the lovely California Kathies, one our way to join fellow divers on I-5 North. It’s a beautiful day, currently 73 out there. When we got up this morning it was 20 degrees in Fallon but it quickly warmed all the way to 45 before we embarked on this next to last leg of this current voyage. When Kathie reads this she might be a little miffed that we didn’t stop to talk, but we have a mission to accomplish that can’t be influenced by stops visit for any length of time. It’s not that we don’t love her lots, it’s just that she recently returned from Hawaii and I’m sure she’d be talking non-stop about that trip. She used to live there, too. Now, don’t get me wrong. We LOVE Hawaii. We just need to make it to Medford before the sun goes down. Not knowing what the traffic might be like going North so just don’t want to take a chance. So, Kathie, please forgive us for zooming on by. Truth of the matter is, I’m not driving, as you may have suspected, and have absolutely no control over the driver. It’s my job to point out the pretty things along our route that I think she may want to briefly look at, keep my mouth shut, and hand her whatever she wants. So, that’s exactly what I do because I do not want her to have to stop the car to punish me.

Today I thought I’d try something a little different and utilize one of the nifty features of Diane’s new car. It’s got wi-fi and works as a hot spot, like Starbucks, for up to seven devices. I’m using six of them right now – two phones, two iPads, and the laptop. I’m doing that just so a bunch of people traveling along with us can’t hijack our signal and use it for nefarious “things”. It’s kinda neat because it’s connected to AT&T, which is our cell provider, so I can simply add it to our data plan once the free three months have expired. Interesting to have a car on the cell phone data plan. Should make the monthly bill interesting, too.

In the past 25 minutes Diane skillfully maneuvered us through the incredibly complex array of freeway ons and offs where I-80 and I-5 meet. Most of the time interactions like that are frightening beyond belief, but not this time because I just wasn’t paying any attention. My Navigating responsibilities have been reduced to the task of ensuring our destination has been entered into the car’s brain before we head to a specific destination. You might find it interesting to know I can do this more than one way. The easiest way is to open the RemoteLink app on my iPhone, enter our destination and upload it to the car. Then, when we start car up in the morning, the destination downloads and gets us on the way. If I don’t do that, then I must enter in manually in the car. I can do this by pushing the appropriate buttons. I can also talk to the navigation system and tell it where we want to go. That method is tedious because she, Bessie, tends to mess stuff up and we wind up arguing. It has never ended well, yet, so I try to get the destination downloaded.

Other neat things on the car that I’ve fiddled with is the Driver’s Information Console (DIC – I didn’t make that up) which can be set to provide a lot of distracting information to the driver. One of them is the speed alert. I set it for 80 yesterday but we didn’t make it ten miles before I was severely directed to turn it off. That’s because every time the designated speed is obtained the car beeps a few times and my driver got tired of hearing it. I should have set it to 100 instead. She would have still heard it, but not as often.

The DIC, I really didn’t make that up, will also, if the driver is interested, display an accurate rendition of a speed limit sign for the current location. Diane never looks at that, though. She checks the tire pressure frequently, and the overall mpg which, for the first 1317 miles, is 27. Not bad. On this current stretch of the trip we’re averaging  31.2 mpg. That’s while running along at an average speed of 65+ (mostly 80).

Boring stuff for most of you, I’m sure, but I’ve got nothing else to do. I did pause to check all the devices and see that all their batteries are charged so I should unplug them for a while. Maybe I’ll read some of my book. See you later.

Oh, before I go I have to share something I heard on the news last night … Don’t know what station it was, but the reporter told us that a certain lake had “… six drownings this year, 3 of them fatal.” Had to stop and think about that. I guess the three fortunate ones were dragged back from the dead by a handy people who knew CPR.

Commercials

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Considering my advanced age, and my desire to improve my health, I’ve been paying more attention to all the advertisements I’ve previously ignored. Oh, I hear bits and pieces but mostly they flit through my brain mostly as white noise. You know, you hear it but not to the point where you actually paid attention. Lately, however, the white noise is fading and identifiable words are filtering through to the part of my brain that understands them. I’m not sure where that part is but suspect it’s somewhere a little above, and between my ears somewhere. Just makes sense. But, then, the eyeballs are connected to the back of the brain instead of the part right behind the eyes themselves. Perhaps that’s because the hearing part was already using that space so the eyeballs had to be rerouted to the back. Kinda like a detour.

Anyway, the words I’m starting to string together into coherent memories from the commercials are a bit disconcerting for me. Perhaps you have the same feeling. Take this one, for example … it’s for a seemingly benign salve for foot fungus that’s supposed to clean up your toenails. the commercial itself is fairly short, but the speed-speaking person listing the list of possible side effects is quite entertaining. It goes something like this …

The list of possible side effects includes, but is not limited to, the possibility of liver and kidney failure unless the salve is applied between 4-5 am on a Sunday morning, severe brain damage if ingested by licking the finger applying the salve within 30 seconds of application, a Viagra induced erection lasting less than 15 minutes, whether or not it was used, heart failure if do, blurred vision, impaired hearing, and possible death if you don’t get a haircut right away.

Pretty much every commercial, about anything, ends with a similar list of ill effects but in a different order. Makes me want to run out and buy stuff like that right away.

And you?

The Garage Door, My iPhone 6, My Glasses, & The Garbage

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Yesterday afternoon I only had two things to remember; put the garbage can, and the recycle can at the street. Technically, I suppose that’s only one thing to remember. Also, technically, neither of them are cans, but it doesn’t sound right if you call them ‘plastics’, ya know? So, they’re cans.

I knew right away I’d missed the garbage man when I frantically rolled the can to the street when I woke at 0710 because the neighbors garbage can lid was upside down, the garbage man’s way of saying, “I was here.” Still, I left it at the street with the plan of hauling it back to the house later in the day, between rain storms. I did get the recycle out on time, so that was good. Still, I got into a minor bit of trouble when I told Diane about my failure.

Technically it was the dogs fault because neither of them woke me at 0530 like normal. Had they done so, I’m sure I could have beat the garbage man to the street. I’ll have to talk with them about that and reinforce it with a piece of cheese.

There are a couple of other reasons I may have failed to remember those important chores that are worthy of mention. First, my iPhone 6 arrived yesterday and it was mandatory that I configure it and test all the functions I’ve been studying for the past 1.5 months. Second, my new glasses arrived from the VA facility that makes them, somewhere in Idaho. Boise, I think. There’s a little difference in the prescription so there was an adjustment period getting used to them. I hardly ran in to anything so it was a successful transition. The main problem is that they have transition lenses that require me to wobble my head around to focus on things because the magic little focus spots are a little off from my old ones.I got gold frames, which Diane doesn’t like on me, so I envision a trip to Costco in the near future to rectify that fashion failure on my part. I only chose them because I liked the nose cushion. It’s comfy.

My new iPhone arrived while I was working on the other garage door. We have two of them. Diane’s has an automatic opener and mine is manual. Everyone should be very proud of me for taking the phone to my desk where I left it, all wrapped up, then went back to work on the door. My task was to attach a new seal to the bottom of the door. It’s kind of a problem because I got the kind that has an extruded aluminum bracket into which one must slide the seal after the bracket is mounted to the bottom of the door. Sounds easy, right. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s far from that. I did Diane’s garage door on Saturday and it about crippled my right hand all over again. The problem is that the rubber part arrives flat and must be formed into a “U” as it’s slid into the bracket channels and this covers the screws quite nicely. Looks good. But, the door must be completely open so the bottom of the door is located at the curve where the door goes horizontal so the bottom is not blocked by the frame in which the door rollers roll. Got it? Even then I had to undo the bottom roller on one side in order to clear the roller frame thing. With a little WD-40 and lots of effort I managed to push, yes, push, the rubber seal across the entire 10 foot span of the door. It was brutal and my right hand wasn’t working very well when I finished, but I got it done, by golly!

So, yesterday I figured I’d make things easier by propping the door open, about chest high, then remove the bottom rollers from BOTH sides thereby allowing me to swing the bottom panel of the door into the garage where I could easily insert the rubber seal. I tied off the bottom rollers to heavy things I found on the garage floor to keep the door spring from coiling up and beating holes in the ceiling after being ripped from my grasp. On one side I used a trailer hitch and the other side had a propane tank attached.

Everything was going nicely until I took the last screw out of the second roller bracket. At that exact moment I realized the error of my thinking as the door pushed the wood clamp I’d used to hold the door up aside as if it wasn’t there and slammed with a resounding crash to the floor. I’m sure it shook houses on both sides of us. On the way down it hit my sprained left wrist which hurt a bit, but I wasn’t concerned about that right then. I was waiting for the pain to race up my left from my left foot that I thought might be trapped under the door, but it never happened. Looking down I was relieved to see that my foot was actually OK.

Right then Diane appeared in the door to the house and calmly asked if I was OK. Having already assessed myself for possible crippling injuries, I assured her that I actually was OK. Then, just to get it out of the way, I told her what had happened, she nodded knowingly, and retreated back into the house after suggesting that I call Jeff for help.

I eventually did call Jeff, after re-learning that a 10 foot wide wood garage door that isn’t hooked to its spring weighs about a ton and a half, far beyond my limited lifting abilities. Once Jeff got here we managed, after a bit of testing, to get the door open and propped up so we could insert the rubber seal and put it all back together. However, noticing a small dent in one of the channels, into which the rubber gasket would slide, closer inspection revealed that nothing was going to slide through it. Ever. The door landed on some “things” that slammed those grooves shut tight in a number of places to the point where I knew the only way to make it neat was to get a new rubber gasket bracket. If I’d been thinking properly I would have reattached the bottom rollers, that are attached to the big spring, but I wasn’t so we didn’t. Instead, we lowered the door to the floor, gently, where it will reside until the new brackets arrive from wherever they’re made.

Last night Diane went to play bunco with her friends so I was left along with strict instructions to not do anything that involved lifting heavy things, or plugging anything into a wall socket. That pretty much limited me to my new iPhone 6 which I opened and got it all set up for use. I worked on the puzzle we have living on a table, too. The pieces are very light so there was no danger of violating the lifting restriction.

Now it’s Tuesday and I’m home alone again because Diane is working today. She didn’t leave me any instructions so I’m a little bit concerned about how I should conduct myself until her return. I’ll figure something out. It’d not raining very hard so maybe I’ll just go out and mow the yard.

Hope you all are doing well.

Random News From St. Helens

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Sometime during the night, a couple of weeks ago, someone invaded our street and filled a number of large pot holes near the N. Vernonia Road intersection with fresh asphalt. No one at our end of the street knows who did it and some residents are fearful this intruder may work his, or her, way up the street removing indents that have become a customary part of our drive home. Removing the need to dodge holes will take away the highlite of their day.

Weather in the Northwest part of St. Helens has turned soggy. The first few days it was a welcome relief from the incessant sunshine. The downside of this sudden shift from hot to chilly and wet resulted in the dreaded humidity similar to that found in Virginia this time of year. It’s brutal and soaks ones clothes with prodigious amounts of bodily fluids making them extremely difficult to remove in a hurry. This is a problem for older humans and generally ends in frustration and warm wet pants.

The rock wall, constructed by this abodes previous owner, that separates our property from the neighbors, is in a pile this morning. That’s because I knocked it down yesterday, deeming it a hazard to the your people now living next door. Now it must be replaced with something a little sturdier as the neighbors also have a new puppy named Trigger that is destined to grow into a very large dog. At this time, however, he cowers from 6 lb Ozzie who herded Trigger into a small basket full of sidewalk chalk on our back porch. No doubt he’ll remember this insult and seek resolution in the future.

Yesterday afternoon the new neighbor, Whitney, came to the house with her laptop seeking assistance to transfer her sacred files from the laptop to an external drive. The transfer was made and training was imparted to allow the owner the option of performing this feat in the comfort of her own home. During the process she was introduced to Diane’s favorite wine, muscato, which tastes a lot like really good cool aid.

JUST IN — from one of our nearby relatives, Jennifer, who reported that St. Helens High School is being evacuated and all the students are being sent to the school stadium where they were instructed to sit in alphabetical order with their first period class. Though nerve-wracking, it appears to us that a drill is being conducted in the same way we used to do it on ships at sea when one person is pulled aside, and sequestered, while teachers and administration staff attempt to determine who it is. Generally this drill is conducted at sea when someone falls over board and it is important to know who it is. Hopefully no one at the school has been injured. We just learned that the students are being bussed to a nearby village and whatever the threat is, it is apparently a real issue. Still sounds like authorities are looking for someone.

UPDATE – according to KOIN Channel 6 news, authorities suspect there are explosives in the school. Not good.

For Sale …

On the lighter side, I am in custody of some raffle tickets being sold by American Legion Post 42. The winner get an AR-15 sports rifle. Second and Third place winners will receive a monetary prize. The drawing will be on November 11th at 11:11 a.m. at the Veteran’s Memorial in McCormick Park, St. Helens. Tickets cost $10 each with a maximum of 500 being sold. if you want one, let me know.

I also have a 1968 Chevrolet C-20, fleetside, long bed, 2-wheel drive pickup for sale. It is powered by a 1973 Corvette 454 BBC bored over to 462 that has an RV cam installed and is capable of towing a fairly large house. Asking $2500 OBO. If you’re interested, let me know.

There is also a Class A 1979 Winnebago Brave for sale at this location. It’s road ready and needs only a bit of attention to replace a cabinet above the cab area up front. It’s a steal at $1500 OBO. If you’re interested, let me know.

Now I must quit and ponder what’s going on at the school with our grandchildren …

Sunrises and Reporters

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The sunrise this morning was just like the photo at the top of my blog entries, but without the clouds. It was absolutely pristine. I didn’t take a new picture because I just didn’t feel like looking for my camera. Besides, I have that view stored away in my long-term memory. Locked in that steel trap of a mind. Where it will remain until the end of time, or until my brain turns to dust.

I’ve been thinking about a blog called “Dumb Things Reporters Ask People,” and actually Googled it to see if it’s already been done. Then I reconsidered, thinking it wouldn’t be a good idea to glorify the stupidity many of them demonstrate. I’ve mentioned this before. I think the networks have just one question reporters are required to ask that is dictated by the situation. They try to make it sound like a therapy session by starting each question with “When the _________ happened/ began/started, how did it make you feel?” You can fill the blank with “shooting”, “snow”, “earthquake”, “avalanche”, “accident”, etc. From there, the interview typically goes south quickly.

I can ask stupid questions.

Maybe I should be a reporter.

All in favor, say “aye.”

All against, say “nay.”

Motion failed.

Thank you. I didn’t want to be a reporter anyway.

My Root Canal

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I haven’t had a root canal in quite a while, so a few months ago I decided to make an appointment to get one done. That took an initial appointment so my dentist, Dr. Grimm (his real name) and I could agree on which tooth he should work on. He applied something super cold to various teeth, to see if any of them made me jump out of the chair, and he hit it on the third one. We agreed that was the tooth.

So, the appointment was made for today, at 1300, and that’s where I spent my afternoon visiting with Tracy and the good doctor. All of the dentists I’ve visited in the past palmed off root canals to another practice that specializes in them which incurs another office visit. My dentist, however, is a many of many trades and works in an office that provides all required services from start to stop. I like the change because it’s going to get done faster and I’ll only have one guy to blame if things go south on this tooth which was put out of its misery right at 1310, or so. That’s when I got the needle. A really long one.

After Dr. Grimm was almost finished, Tracy was kind enough to snap this photo of me on my iPad.

IMG_0126

I was pleasantly pleased to note that nothing was hanging out of my nose. That’s one of my main concerns when I visit the dentist because I know, for sure, that’s where they always look first. I guess that’s a little weird, but I’m OK with weird, as most of you know.

The red and white things are probes that are stuck into the roots so they would show up nicely on the x-ray Tracy took. Three roots were cleaned out so I don’t know where the blue probe went, unless it was deemed unnecessary for the x-ray. After ensuring himself things were progressing as planned, the Good Doctor proceeded to fill them with nifty little sticks of gutta-percha which is a latex material used to waterproof underwater cables during the last half of the nineteenth century. When it was first used in dentistry is not documented on the link, but I suspect it was not long after companies began making latex gloves for surgical procedures.

A large industry, whose name escapes me at the moment, was created around the many uses for gutta-percha, including a niche for dentists, and latex gloves used in many surgical procedures, including those for dentists who do not like slobber on their tender skin while working on teeth.

Latex gloves became very popular and, as all popular things do, also became a problem when it came time to dispose of them. Considering that anyone in the medical industry, and those who refinish furniture, use these gloves in mass quantities, you can appreciate what a burden this created for the dumps littering the world. Burning them wasn’t a solution, either, because doing so created a medical problem for pretty much anything that breathes. So, someone began collecting all the discarded latex gloves, melted them down, and began making condoms out of them as a way of helping curb the soaring world population and to ensure young girls still in school did not become impregnated before her parents told her it was OK to do so.

One day an enterprising dentist accidentally melted a brand new latex condom and, through a process only he knows, discovered that it worked well for filling reamed out roots in one’s teeth. Through this humble beginning, dentists quickly resorted to using virgin gutta-percha because none of them wanted to waste their expensive condoms by melting them down. Then, too, there were suspected cases that some dentists were using used condoms for this purpose. Such dentists were relieved of their rights to practice dentistry and forced to become lawyers who could only serve as pro-bono public defenders.

Now the process has been refined to the point where little, tiny gutta-percha slivers are used to obturate the empty space in the roots of a tooth after it has undergone endodontic therapy. Discovering that caused me a to question the use of that term, therapy. I mean, c’mon, they’re drilling large holes in teeth. How can that be therapy? Then, after a bit of serious thinking, I could only agree because they are, after all, ‘making it better.’ And that’s therapy, right?

Dr. Grimm filled three roots with gutta-percha, then broke out another entire set of little tiny rasps and began scraping the nerve from a 4th root he had found. Thankfully he found it before it was all closed up. Once done, he filled the 4th root with gutta-percha slivers, then applied a nifty little tool that melted them into the holes, sealing them from further incursion by bodily fluids. Then he topped it off with something else. I don’t know what it is, but it dried very quickly, it was ground off a bit, and I was sent on my way to schedule my next visit for the crown. That’s going to be on January 15th.

If you’ve read this far, not knowing just a little bit about how my little head works, most of what you’ve just read is not true. Not all, just most. I leave it to your discretion as to what parts you wish to believe.

Again, if you read this far, thanks. I appreciate it.

Nonsense

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Today I painted some more because the temp got up to 50. Didn’t last long, so I didn’t get much done, but I got a start on the underside of the cover over the upper porch. Got all the corners so now all I have to do, on the next 50 degree day all I have to do is use a roller. I did this, standing on a stool, while all alone because Diane left to go shopping. She asked me what I was going to do while she was gone and I said, “I’m not going to use power tools, and I’m not going on the roof.” Her response was, “good choices.” Then she left to get her Mom, Jean.

I think everyone moved out of Idaho. Don’t hear much from them any more. Steffani speaks up once in a while, and would alert us if things weren’t OK, so I guess the only reason my big brother, Jim, isn’t communicating is because he doesn’t know how. That’s actually true when it comes to computers. He doesn’t know how. Donna said she was going to teach him how to check email, and even send one occasionally, but he has no interest in computers. I guess I can understand why he’s a little hesitant to learn something new. He is, after all, left-handed. I can say stuff like that about him because he’s a long way away and will have forgotten all about this by the next time we are in the same vicinity. I’ll probably forget, too.

Jack? I think he’s working at ACE full-time now. It’s a good thing for us, when we need something, because he’s our very own Handy ACE Man. He was that long before he worked at ACE. He’s the “Go To Guy” for pretty much anything I have a question about. Wynette is the ACE holiday decorator and has been busy sprucing up the stores for the holidays and it looks awesome, like normal. She just has a knack, know what I mean?

Diane’s better, which pleases me immensely. She sent an email to her doctor day before yesterday and was called yesterday to come in for a visit. She learned that she has ‘classic irritable bowel syndrome’, or IBS. I’ve got that, too, but mine hasn’t been diagnosed so, technically, I don’t have it. Diane was told hers could have been caused by a virus. Those things are terrible and cause a lot of problems.

Yesterday Daniel, Cedric, and Jeran went to see “Thor II” in Scappoose. I was invited, but I had one of Jennifer’s headaches and didn’t think I’d be very good company. It would have been fun but, no doubt, I would have eaten way too much popcorn. With butter. Maybe a candy bar, too. Instead, I sat on the couch and willed my head ache away. I would have enjoyed the movie, and visiting with the Boys, though.

Diane signed up for coffee hour at church tomorrow so I helped by cutting up a couple of cantaloupes and a big brick of Tillamook cheddar cheese. I did that while Diane made supper. I made lunch, but her’s was better. I only fried some eggs. She made lasagna with a little help from Stouffer’s. She brought home a baguette, my favorite kind of bread, too. I just love those things.

As I type, sitting on the recliner couch, I have the cat on one side of my extended feet, and the little black dog on the other. That hardly ever happens. Actually, this is the first time it’s happened, ever. So, it’s a little odd. They’ve never argued, so it isn’t a problem. It’s just odd to be bracketed by them. My main concern is the fleas. It’s a well-known fact that cat fleas don’t like dog fleas and they will create a huge commotion if one invades the other’s territory. And, here I am smack in the middle.

Really, I’m not worried about fleas because I’m pretty sure neither of them have any because we bought a monkey who just loves those things and makes sure all the other animals are clean. We discovered that the reason the deer are spending more time in the yard is because the monkey keeps them clean, too. I’m going to teach it how to trim the apple trees. That’s one job I don’t enjoy much. Next time I do it I’m going to do a pretty radical job on them in order to get the limbs high enough so I can drive the mower under them without limbs knocking my hat off.

Since the Ducks played a truly terrible game yesterday, I’ve decided to start watching the Portland Trailblazers who are doing pretty good. At this moment, they’re beating Sacramento by 10 with 1:38 to go. I know, a lot can happen in that short amount of time, which always amazes me, but I’m confident they will win. They beat Sacramento last night in Portland, so they know how. I don’t know if Mike and Kathie are Sacramento Kings fans, or not, but it’s OK if they are. They should be, actually, since they live in the vicinity.

I’m rambling so it’s pretty obvious I don’t have much to write about today so I’m going to quit. If you actually read all the way to this point I can only think you don’t have good sense. I would have quit after the 2nd paragraph. However, getting this far will allow me to reveal to you that we really don’t have a monkey.

But, Ozzie really wants one.

KC Update

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Good news! I was wrong.

KC had her surgery this at 0730 today. The doctors took her phone away from her before surgery because a couple of them wanted something to do while they sedated her. Once awake, they gave it back so she could finish a game she’d been playing. Sadly, one of the operating room staff had finished it for her so now she’ll have to start it again. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but she was almost finished beating it.

Anyway, she came through the surgery just fine. Reports are she gets out of the hospital on Thursday. She didn’t say if it was this week, or even this month … just Thursday. Logic tells me, which it rarely does, that it’s this coming Thursday, the 7th.

I believe the only possible problem is that the selected donor was left-handed, and that’s the elbow KC had replaced. So, there’s going to be a power struggle between KC’s arms since she’s right-handed. That would be fun to watch, don’t you think? I mean, there KC is, trying to write down something when her left hand snatches the pencil from her right hand then get into a slap-fight until she stands up and yells “KNOCK IT OFF!” Then, of course, everyone looks around to see what’s happening and see KC’s hands going at each other.

Even more fun would be watching them fight over the remote controls. Don’t you think?

That’s it. KC is OK.