Died and went to Hell

...last March.

The constant hum at work is so loud I hear it in my sleep. Turns out it is the airconditioning compressor. It runs loudest and most constantly during these (almost) Dog Days.

We have been informed that we cannot wear music headphones.

I think I have earplugs. I hope.

Going stark raving mad.

pb
Little Pond

Let's get one thing straight.

I am disabled. I walk with a cane.

The trips to the Chemung River are specifically related to the disability. When Ellie and I walk through the street of Elmira, I walk with a cane, and Ellie walks with a choke-chain. We call it "Walking Pretty." She stays at my side and we try to move briskly along, to get off the hot streets in the summer, or to get in from the bitter cold in the winter.

On the banks of the Chemung River, Ellie is free to poke and hunt, and I am able to take pictures. We keep the leash handy for encounters with other human-dog pairs.

Yet I stress that the River is dangerous. Ellie does not swim in the river where it is deep and flowing, and I do not wade. Well, almost never.

Ellie is allowed to swim where the river is fairly still and shallow. The proof of this is her tail: up when she wades, and lower when she wades.

I would never risk my little buddy's safety.

pb

Little Pond

Night of the Long Knives, revisited.

Again.

It started last week, before the public announcement. One of our building supers was "offered" early retirement, and he took it. One day it was "Hi" and the next it was "Bye!"

Yesterday I got word that the lady with whom I had a disagreement (and since reconciled) was let go. No way would I wish it on anyone, especially not her. She and her coworkers were lucky enough to get work with Gannett after their publishing house went under. After only a year or so, it has to be hard for her.

Today the list got significantly longer, including a few people I knew well. I am told this current batch is being "let go," so I don't think they were offered a buyout. We were never promised a buyout this go-around, anyway.

As I remember, those who were on vacation, or out sick, when the white list went into effect, were removed when they returned. Same thing happened when I went on partial layoff years ago. I could still go back and learn my fate.

One can only hope they will allow me some sort of retirement, if they do.

But, by now I feel that whatever happens, happens.

We have bigger fish to fry.

pb
Little Pond

Delicious! Recipe for disaster.

After a quick visit with Violet and her new parents, I stopped by a Chinese takeout to grab a "house special" chow mein. Bought a whole quart, even though I am the only person in the entire family (both sides, likely) who eats the stuff.

Little things began tapping at the back of my head. "Chinese Buffet" on the sign, instead of "Family Depot," however that really translates from the original language. Well, it had literally been more than a year since I last ordered from there.

Very spare place, with only three workers. Used to be busier, with many people. Oh, and no "Buffet" or any sign of it. Well, okay, it's a holiday weekend, after all.

Finally, the most damning clue of all: it was delicious! Usually I would consider it a huge slug of veggies and some little pieces of meat and shrimp. Good for me, but not great tasting. I generally fix it with duck sauce.

This stuff was wonderful: flavorful and welcome; it didn't even need soy sauce. I ate two enormous servings and saved the rest for the next day.

The final clue came last night in my sleep. Weird, off-the-wall dreams, that somewhere, somehow, always feature a bathroom.

I woke up crampy and cranky, and flew into the real bathroom. Twice within twenty minutes.

When things settled down, I took the HuggaMutt for a walk in the Newtown Creek area. Had to duck into some heavy shrubbery to ease my bladder, where I got a nasty surprise.

Time to head home, change my clothes, and do a special load of laundry.

If you live in the Elmira/Southport area, and are sensitive to MSG, here's a tip: Avoid the Chinese Buffet in Southport Plaza.

Avoid it like the Plague.

pb
Little Pond

You probably know

Yesterday, Violet Meadow Johns became the youngest person ever to cause me to have a wetting accident, and the only one to ever cause three.

Three accidents, to be exact.

She arrived at 2:09pm, in a bit of a rush, after her mother suddenly dialated and effaced, fully and all at once.

We were just arriving to console our daughter for having to go through another day of pitocin and slow, annoying, contractions. She'd already begun to deliver.

There was a quick, lovely visit with a teeny, squalling newborn, and we were rushed out to give the mother and baby time to bond and practice nursing.

It was the beginning of many rushes to find facilities. I never made it to the ladies room for any of them, but I did go through lots of protection, and glad of it. And, with a building full of nurses and various supplies, who cares?

Don't know when things will settle down enough in the nerve department, but then again, I don't much care. Busy with other stuff, we are.

She's perfect, she's beautiful, she's a miracle, and well worth all the trouble.

pb

Little Pond