Richelle is one of those people who talk rather rapidly but not always clearly. Mike's always asking her to repeat herself because she slurs words. I frequently ask her to repeat because she leaves out vital information by using all pronouns.
"Dad,doyouhaveanyelectritician'stapeinyourtoolboxIneeditformyproject."
"Richelle, slow down and enunciate!"
"Mom,whydidn'tshelikeit?"
"Why didn't who like what?"
Yesterday, we were at a family picnic with the Boy Scout troop and one of the younger brothers noticed that Richelle repeated a lot. This young lad doesn't use his lips much when he speaks. Here's the quick exchange I heard.
"Richelle, why do you repeat everything?"
"What?"
A couple of other parents me joined me in quiet laughter and the boy didn't repeat the question. Richelle grabbed the handful of chips she was after and ran off without pursuing the issue.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Friday, July 4, 2008
Memory is the first to go
We were sitting around the family room this afternoon talking about Cameron's arm and he mentioned that they saw the scar from the old break.
Whaa?
"When did you break your left arm?"
"Five years ago. A couple of weeks before Melissa died," he says. He thinks, "Mom, you're losing it."
"No, that was your right arm," I correct while struggling with memory.
We had a short discussion about how we know Nick broke his left arm because his Scoutmaster, missing his right arm from the shoulder, called Nick his "right-hand man" and we know that Nick's and Cameron's breaks were almost identical except for being opposite arms. We scratched our heads and dusted off memories and I finally asked Cameron if he remembered which side the casket was on when he was pallbearer.
"The left side.......oh. It was my right arm I broke."
So he did damage the bone when he walked in front of the jitney. The x-rays showed what was either a crack or an old, healed break and at 2am Mike and Cameron assumed it was his left arm he'd broken years ago.
Whaa?
"When did you break your left arm?"
"Five years ago. A couple of weeks before Melissa died," he says. He thinks, "Mom, you're losing it."
"No, that was your right arm," I correct while struggling with memory.
We had a short discussion about how we know Nick broke his left arm because his Scoutmaster, missing his right arm from the shoulder, called Nick his "right-hand man" and we know that Nick's and Cameron's breaks were almost identical except for being opposite arms. We scratched our heads and dusted off memories and I finally asked Cameron if he remembered which side the casket was on when he was pallbearer.
"The left side.......oh. It was my right arm I broke."
So he did damage the bone when he walked in front of the jitney. The x-rays showed what was either a crack or an old, healed break and at 2am Mike and Cameron assumed it was his left arm he'd broken years ago.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Update...
It turns out he's only bruised. Pretty bad bruise, I'm guessing because it was just very red last night...uh, early this morning...and he's not gotten up yet for me to see. I have a tube of arnica cream and I'll have him apply it regularly.
First, I'd like to make clear that it was his own fault. Jitney drivers are supposed to take ordinary precautions but they do have the right-of-way. It's the responsibility of everyone else to keep their eyes peeled and stay out of their way. There are walking paths painted on the floor to get from one place to another and hysters are careful when they cross them but this happened right where Cameron works.
Cameron was headed to the bathrooms and didn't look around while a jitney was coming to get a load from the stacker. Mike told me that Cameron was in front of the jitney right in the driver's blind spot. The driver was raising the forks high enough to get the load from the stacker, about ten feet up. The fork hit Cameron at the top of his shoulder. Since the forks were rising, if the collision happened a foot farther on, the fork would have gotten him in the head. That's why he was so shaken last night but I didn't want to add that until I knew more.
His supervisor saw the whole thing happen. He yelled loudly and continuously but the noise is bad in the mill and everyone wears earplugs so neither Cameron nor the jitney driver heard him. Mike said, and I'll quote, "It scared Hell out of everybody."
He's going back to work today. It's his Friday so he'll have three days to heal before the next week rolls around.
First, I'd like to make clear that it was his own fault. Jitney drivers are supposed to take ordinary precautions but they do have the right-of-way. It's the responsibility of everyone else to keep their eyes peeled and stay out of their way. There are walking paths painted on the floor to get from one place to another and hysters are careful when they cross them but this happened right where Cameron works.
Cameron was headed to the bathrooms and didn't look around while a jitney was coming to get a load from the stacker. Mike told me that Cameron was in front of the jitney right in the driver's blind spot. The driver was raising the forks high enough to get the load from the stacker, about ten feet up. The fork hit Cameron at the top of his shoulder. Since the forks were rising, if the collision happened a foot farther on, the fork would have gotten him in the head. That's why he was so shaken last night but I didn't want to add that until I knew more.
His supervisor saw the whole thing happen. He yelled loudly and continuously but the noise is bad in the mill and everyone wears earplugs so neither Cameron nor the jitney driver heard him. Mike said, and I'll quote, "It scared Hell out of everybody."
He's going back to work today. It's his Friday so he'll have three days to heal before the next week rolls around.
Children.....
I was suddenly yanked from slumber by the shrill of the telephone. Like all mothers, I was on my feet and in the next room before my eyes opened, multiple thoughts racing through my head one after another as if they were playing tag, "Where's the phone? I have to answer before the machine picks up. Follow-the-sound-follow-the-sound. Please don't let me collide with a chair," and the thoughts we keep shoving away, "Who?" and "Why?" Not complete thoughts because we don't want them answered.
I answer the phone. A voice so upset I can hardly recognize it says, "Mom, I'm all right."
I'm a bit rattled. That's what Nick said four years ago when he rolled his Bronco but nobody should be driving anywhere at 11pm. I mean, they should be in bed or at work. Mike's shift ends at 11:30, Cameron's ends at 2am and Nick's shift starts at 6:30am. Mike sometimes works later and occasionally comes home earlier but this is Cameron talking to me.
"You're all right where?" I wondered, fumbling for reality.
"At work." Again, a voice fighting for control.
It turns out that he was hit by a forklift and injured his arm. They got on the radio and called Mike who was there in a few short minutes and took him to the hospital. He called me because we have a deal. When he gets hurt, he calls me. That way, when he's not home when I wander the house in the wee sma's, I don't worry.
So now I'm waiting to hear what the extent is of his injury. I'm waiting up, of course, but this is one of the few times I can't seek oblivion in a book. I keep making stupid mistakes in my Sudoku book, and my stomach isn't feeling the best either. Mike called from the hospital a few minutes ago to find out when his last tetanus shot was and his uneducated diagnosis was either a bruised or broken arm. Let's hope for just a bruise!
I answer the phone. A voice so upset I can hardly recognize it says, "Mom, I'm all right."
I'm a bit rattled. That's what Nick said four years ago when he rolled his Bronco but nobody should be driving anywhere at 11pm. I mean, they should be in bed or at work. Mike's shift ends at 11:30, Cameron's ends at 2am and Nick's shift starts at 6:30am. Mike sometimes works later and occasionally comes home earlier but this is Cameron talking to me.
"You're all right where?" I wondered, fumbling for reality.
"At work." Again, a voice fighting for control.
It turns out that he was hit by a forklift and injured his arm. They got on the radio and called Mike who was there in a few short minutes and took him to the hospital. He called me because we have a deal. When he gets hurt, he calls me. That way, when he's not home when I wander the house in the wee sma's, I don't worry.
So now I'm waiting to hear what the extent is of his injury. I'm waiting up, of course, but this is one of the few times I can't seek oblivion in a book. I keep making stupid mistakes in my Sudoku book, and my stomach isn't feeling the best either. Mike called from the hospital a few minutes ago to find out when his last tetanus shot was and his uneducated diagnosis was either a bruised or broken arm. Let's hope for just a bruise!
Monday, June 30, 2008
A Weekend To Remember
We got back Sunday afternoon from a Girl Scout camping trip in the mountains. Eleven girls and seven parents. We always have a high girls/parents ratio in our troop. It's a fun thing to watch the girls grow and learn and gain confidence.
We drove up Friday afternoon to a lovely campsite not too far from the lake but not within sight of it. I guess you could call the campground "partially improved" because although it had paved roads, a shower house and flush toilets, there wasn't a speck of grass anywhere within the group campsite area. There was bunch grass elsewhere, but the ground at our site had nothing but dirt, pumice, and lodgepole pine cones.
And mosquitoes. We can't forget the mosquitoes. They were large and plentiful. As they say, there wasn't a single mosquito there - they were all married with several hundred children. One dad told the girls that they were hired by Red Cross for a blood drive. And you had to be ready when you unzipped your tent because they just might shove you aside and enter first. We had repellent but the only one that stood a ghost of a chance against the thirsty little buggers was the one with 98% DEET content. Yes, I know DEET isn't all that good for you, but neither is slapping yourself black and blue and scratching until you have skin under your nails. Two girls got together and counted bites and came up with about one hundred each. Note to self: Do not, under any circumstances, camp at a high mountain lake in June when there's been a long spring.
One parent was coming late Friday night so we made up a scavenger hunt for the girls and then told "Your Most Embarrassing Moment" stories around the campfire while we waited. One girl told a story on her sister and was giggling so hard we had to have her repeat some of it. I don't usually remember embarrassing moments but I did tell of when I was a Senior in High School doing work study at the local clinic and managed to pass out when I was supposed to be assisting at a mole removal. At least I didn't wet my pants when I keeled over like a felled oak.
Late Saturday morning, the girls got into an all-out water fight using water bottles with wide necks, three-gallon buckets, and plastic dishpans. It started when one girl threw water on one of the dads and it quickly escalated. One table was the "dry" zone and the adults sat there watching and cheering. The water was ice-cold coming out of the faucet so there were a lot of shocked expressions and rigid postures.
We have a couple of girls who have a problem staying hydrated so I came up with a deal that each time they finished the 1/2 liter water bottle that the troop provided, they could get a small piece of candy, also provided by the troop. I got the (large) bag of candy out and transfered them to a zippy bag while one by one the girls gathered around me. I felt like Santa Claus. One girl's parents also brought her little four-year-old brother. He found out what the candy was for and promptly left with his water bottle. A minute later, I happened to look up and watched as he poured the water out behind a tent. Smart little guy. I told him I saw him pouring it out and that he had to fill it up and drink it to get a candy. So he filled the bottle and then stood right in front of my chair. Remember I mentioned the water was ice-cold. He'd gulp four or five times, his hand coming up to his throat and his feet beginning to dance. Then he'd stop drinking, clutch his throat and dance around for a few seconds making gargling noises. Finally, he'd come to a stand-still, burp, and eye the bag of candy. A second later, up went the bottle for the next round of gulping.
The girls took turns that afternoon going out on the motor boat to earn a badge and they came back into camp that evening tired and happy. They weren't so happy a few hours later when a thunderstorm took two hours to travel east to west almost right overhead. Three of the girls were downright scared out of their wits. We all sat under the awning of the trailer and I sat next to the frightened girls, talking to them and giving encouragement and started the other girls singing. Between "Pink Pajamas", "The Quartermaster's Store" and doughnuts being fried inside the trailer and passed around, all three of the girls pulled themselves together. We were lucky that the storm started at 8:15 and only lasted two hours. I'm not sure I want to imagine what would have happened if it started after the girls had gotten to sleep!
I have no pictures because Mike took both the still and movie cameras with him to Christmas Valley. He went with Nick and Cameron, his dad, and two of his brothers to scout out their hunting prospects for their October hunting trip.
I love camping out. I love watching kids learn new skills. I love watching them build on what they learned last time camping. I could have done without the mosquitoes and thunderstorm but even those were very good learning opportunities.
We drove up Friday afternoon to a lovely campsite not too far from the lake but not within sight of it. I guess you could call the campground "partially improved" because although it had paved roads, a shower house and flush toilets, there wasn't a speck of grass anywhere within the group campsite area. There was bunch grass elsewhere, but the ground at our site had nothing but dirt, pumice, and lodgepole pine cones.
And mosquitoes. We can't forget the mosquitoes. They were large and plentiful. As they say, there wasn't a single mosquito there - they were all married with several hundred children. One dad told the girls that they were hired by Red Cross for a blood drive. And you had to be ready when you unzipped your tent because they just might shove you aside and enter first. We had repellent but the only one that stood a ghost of a chance against the thirsty little buggers was the one with 98% DEET content. Yes, I know DEET isn't all that good for you, but neither is slapping yourself black and blue and scratching until you have skin under your nails. Two girls got together and counted bites and came up with about one hundred each. Note to self: Do not, under any circumstances, camp at a high mountain lake in June when there's been a long spring.
One parent was coming late Friday night so we made up a scavenger hunt for the girls and then told "Your Most Embarrassing Moment" stories around the campfire while we waited. One girl told a story on her sister and was giggling so hard we had to have her repeat some of it. I don't usually remember embarrassing moments but I did tell of when I was a Senior in High School doing work study at the local clinic and managed to pass out when I was supposed to be assisting at a mole removal. At least I didn't wet my pants when I keeled over like a felled oak.
Late Saturday morning, the girls got into an all-out water fight using water bottles with wide necks, three-gallon buckets, and plastic dishpans. It started when one girl threw water on one of the dads and it quickly escalated. One table was the "dry" zone and the adults sat there watching and cheering. The water was ice-cold coming out of the faucet so there were a lot of shocked expressions and rigid postures.
We have a couple of girls who have a problem staying hydrated so I came up with a deal that each time they finished the 1/2 liter water bottle that the troop provided, they could get a small piece of candy, also provided by the troop. I got the (large) bag of candy out and transfered them to a zippy bag while one by one the girls gathered around me. I felt like Santa Claus. One girl's parents also brought her little four-year-old brother. He found out what the candy was for and promptly left with his water bottle. A minute later, I happened to look up and watched as he poured the water out behind a tent. Smart little guy. I told him I saw him pouring it out and that he had to fill it up and drink it to get a candy. So he filled the bottle and then stood right in front of my chair. Remember I mentioned the water was ice-cold. He'd gulp four or five times, his hand coming up to his throat and his feet beginning to dance. Then he'd stop drinking, clutch his throat and dance around for a few seconds making gargling noises. Finally, he'd come to a stand-still, burp, and eye the bag of candy. A second later, up went the bottle for the next round of gulping.
The girls took turns that afternoon going out on the motor boat to earn a badge and they came back into camp that evening tired and happy. They weren't so happy a few hours later when a thunderstorm took two hours to travel east to west almost right overhead. Three of the girls were downright scared out of their wits. We all sat under the awning of the trailer and I sat next to the frightened girls, talking to them and giving encouragement and started the other girls singing. Between "Pink Pajamas", "The Quartermaster's Store" and doughnuts being fried inside the trailer and passed around, all three of the girls pulled themselves together. We were lucky that the storm started at 8:15 and only lasted two hours. I'm not sure I want to imagine what would have happened if it started after the girls had gotten to sleep!
I have no pictures because Mike took both the still and movie cameras with him to Christmas Valley. He went with Nick and Cameron, his dad, and two of his brothers to scout out their hunting prospects for their October hunting trip.
I love camping out. I love watching kids learn new skills. I love watching them build on what they learned last time camping. I could have done without the mosquitoes and thunderstorm but even those were very good learning opportunities.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Traffic court
traffic court \traf-ik cōrt\ n : That which inspires us to more closely follow the driving laws.
I had neglected to renew the tags on our Explorer and this was pointed out to me by a nice man dressed in a handsome uniform driving a car with pretty red and blue lights mounted on top.
I would like to point out right here and now that procrastination runs freely in my veins. Those tags were almost a year past expiration. My defense, which the judge thought was worth about two cents, was that at the time the renewal came up the truck's drive line was in pieces on the ground and there was some serious question if it was going to be put back together. When I was finally able to drive it about five months later, the minor detail of expired plates was far from my mind. It did occur to me a few times since then but usually at about 10pm or when I was in town for an evening meeting of one sort or another.
I thought the fine was pretty steep at $97 but after listening to the citations and fines levied on defendants A - L, I was quite happy that $97 was all I was fined. The judge reduced it to $73 which I cheerfully paid.
Some of those citations.......! Driving while suspended......driving without insurance.......no proof of insurance.......failure to obey traffic device......speeding...... Did you know that in the state of Oregon, driving without your license is a criminal offense?? The officer can cuff you and take you in! It makes no difference that you HAVE a license, you have to have it WITH you. I don't know what the fine is because the officer didn't cite the chap with it, only driving without insurance and for whatever he was pulled over for....I think illegal operation of a vehicle. He plead not guilty so the illegal operation wasn't discussed.
Don't EVER get your license suspended and if you do, NEVER, EVER drive. It's too costly besides going on your record. Nearly $400 for the fine plus about $200 for driving without insurance plus whatever it cost to get the car out of impoundment - between $300 and $600. As the judge pointed out, if your license is suspended, your insurance company automatically cancels you and if you're caught driving, the car gets impounded so the three all go together. Ouch!
I now have no desire to speed or try to beat the red light, nor will I wait until the last minute to renew either tags or driver's license.
I had neglected to renew the tags on our Explorer and this was pointed out to me by a nice man dressed in a handsome uniform driving a car with pretty red and blue lights mounted on top.
I would like to point out right here and now that procrastination runs freely in my veins. Those tags were almost a year past expiration. My defense, which the judge thought was worth about two cents, was that at the time the renewal came up the truck's drive line was in pieces on the ground and there was some serious question if it was going to be put back together. When I was finally able to drive it about five months later, the minor detail of expired plates was far from my mind. It did occur to me a few times since then but usually at about 10pm or when I was in town for an evening meeting of one sort or another.
I thought the fine was pretty steep at $97 but after listening to the citations and fines levied on defendants A - L, I was quite happy that $97 was all I was fined. The judge reduced it to $73 which I cheerfully paid.
Some of those citations.......! Driving while suspended......driving without insurance.......no proof of insurance.......failure to obey traffic device......speeding...... Did you know that in the state of Oregon, driving without your license is a criminal offense?? The officer can cuff you and take you in! It makes no difference that you HAVE a license, you have to have it WITH you. I don't know what the fine is because the officer didn't cite the chap with it, only driving without insurance and for whatever he was pulled over for....I think illegal operation of a vehicle. He plead not guilty so the illegal operation wasn't discussed.
Don't EVER get your license suspended and if you do, NEVER, EVER drive. It's too costly besides going on your record. Nearly $400 for the fine plus about $200 for driving without insurance plus whatever it cost to get the car out of impoundment - between $300 and $600. As the judge pointed out, if your license is suspended, your insurance company automatically cancels you and if you're caught driving, the car gets impounded so the three all go together. Ouch!
I now have no desire to speed or try to beat the red light, nor will I wait until the last minute to renew either tags or driver's license.
Scouts
Another weekend spent with scouts, this time working to get the resident camp set up for the summer. Each June, there is a work party that hangs the canvas tents on the tent frames, spreads the mats out and puts the docks in the water at the waterfront, hacks back the vigorous growth encroaching on the many trails, and spreads bark, gravel, or sand wherever it's needed.
There are additional projects also going on. Last year I helped Mike build a three-stall changing room at the waterfront and the year before that, I helped a crew cut boards to length to replace about ten tent platforms. This year, the extra projects were splitting up about five years' worth of firewood in the form of trees that came down last winter (those trees had a diameter of 3 -4 feet), and placing a number of benches along the main trail all the way to the end of the peninsula (about 1/2 mile).
So which did I do? Neither. Mike did some finish work on the changing room and I helped "make" feathers. The feathers are a special award made of a turkey feather dyed to look like an eagle feather. They had to have a leather loop, some colored fluffy feathers, and red felt attached to the quill end. The trick was wrapping the leather loop in such a way that is doesn't slide off. Another woman and I worked on that.
And in spite of my lack of physical exertion, I was pretty tired Saturday night. Maybe that was because one of the six women in our cabin did as fine a job of snoring Friday night as I've heard in a long time. I thought I had successfully ignored it but I guess not. One poor woman took her sleeping bag and finished the night in her truck. I can peel the shingles from the roof myself but I've figured out a way that I don't snore while camping. I still breathe pretty heavily, I'm told, but I don't snore.
There are additional projects also going on. Last year I helped Mike build a three-stall changing room at the waterfront and the year before that, I helped a crew cut boards to length to replace about ten tent platforms. This year, the extra projects were splitting up about five years' worth of firewood in the form of trees that came down last winter (those trees had a diameter of 3 -4 feet), and placing a number of benches along the main trail all the way to the end of the peninsula (about 1/2 mile).
So which did I do? Neither. Mike did some finish work on the changing room and I helped "make" feathers. The feathers are a special award made of a turkey feather dyed to look like an eagle feather. They had to have a leather loop, some colored fluffy feathers, and red felt attached to the quill end. The trick was wrapping the leather loop in such a way that is doesn't slide off. Another woman and I worked on that.
And in spite of my lack of physical exertion, I was pretty tired Saturday night. Maybe that was because one of the six women in our cabin did as fine a job of snoring Friday night as I've heard in a long time. I thought I had successfully ignored it but I guess not. One poor woman took her sleeping bag and finished the night in her truck. I can peel the shingles from the roof myself but I've figured out a way that I don't snore while camping. I still breathe pretty heavily, I'm told, but I don't snore.
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