That Makes Sense Too

In hindsight I can recognize how I misheard this, but it turns out what I should have taken away from the conversation I mentioned yesterday was in fact that it’s time to get a pacemaker installed when you have a heart rate of 39 beats a minute.

Um . . . Yes, Yes It Is

A bit of wisdom gleaned from a larger conversation I had recently:

It’s time to get your pacemaker checked when you have a heart rate of 39 beats a minute.

And . . . Done!

Me thinking as I sit down for my fourth attempt to write today’s post:

Okay . . . how do I write this entry without ending up complaining about something?

Oh, I know!

Status Update

Okay, update time:

This week we’re into what should be the final “big push” on the construction project around here, and the stress is getting to all of us.  Even so, we seem to be doing better this week than last week.

On way or the other, I’ll let you know if that changes.

Okay, Strike’s Over.

Time to get back on my head.

At Least The Project Continues To Move Forward

While technically I’m still on “strike,” for all practical purposes this is meaningless today as there’s enough work happening on the house right now that aside from being on call, there’s nothing for me to really do except stay out of the way.

How Bad Was Yesterday For Me? This Bad:

I have alerted my household that if anyone needs my help with something they can’t do for themselves, I will help them as part of the process of teaching them how to do it for themselves.  In all other matters though . . .

Until further notice, I’m on strike, so even if you won’t excuse me, I’m off to play games, watch videos, and otherwise do absolutely nothing that I don’t want to do.

Scuttled

I have a new standard for “bad day,” a day so bad that you don’t even feel like talking like a pirate on Talk Like A Pirate Day . . .

But It Made Me Smile On A Day I TRULY Needed A Smile

(Another paraphrased encounter with L’s Mother.)

“Since you said you were going to wait until your foot was better to move the trampoline, I was going to move it for you,” she told me this morning.  “Then I realized if I could move it, you could move it, and you probably meant you were waiting to move it until you could use it again.”

She was right too.

We’ve Had A Lot Of Restless Nights Lately, You See

(The following is paraphrased, but still an accurate representation of what I took away from the event.)

“You were wonderful last night,” L’s Mother told me with a loving smile early Saturday morning.

Now it’s not that I’ve never heard that sentiment before, but this time it confused me.  “All we did last night was sleep,” I reminded her.

“Yeah . . .” she sighed with contentment.