Email

There are some things that no one should look upon at the start of their day: Dead baby ducklings that have been flattened by an asphalt truck, frock-clad psychopaths named Norman, and anything with Paris Hilton’s quickly decaying face plastered onto it would all be prime examples of Things I Do Not Wish To See.

Ah Paris, that hopeless twit. How maddening it must have been for her when she first learned that self-run sperm banks do not qualify for bailouts. No matter, deposits still taken daily!

As I was saying, there are some things that no one should have to endure. My personal hell arrived in the form of 293 email.


293?

Really, that’s a bit much.

I had only one piece of spam email. Just the one.

I had forty-three joke email (none were funny) and a plethora of “cc” email from a friend who feels I must be “CCed” on every bit of mail that leaves the desktop. “Oh Aut, you’ve been CCed on this,” she’ll gaily chirp. CCed? Is that proper grammar? I don’t think so.

We had a discussion about it not so long ago. She wanted to know if I received her “CC”. I ventured to ask her, “when you say that in your head, does it come out as “SeeSee” or as something else?”

“SeeSee, silly. What do you say?”

“I say carbon copy,” I reply flatly.

Speaking of overly abbreviated wordage, TXT and TXT IM really rip the alligator off my Lacoste. It isn’t that I do not understand it (please, darlings, Auntie Aut was warbling Leetspeak while you were just a gamete in your daddy’s… we won’t go there.) Many of the TXT fiends can’t actually spell in the English language or present a thought using actual words.

DIA - Darwin in action. I find it humorous when some silly twit races by me on the interstate, thumb frantically working as he awkwardly holds a device and hammers out a message. Survival of the fittest, I say; the stupid always die before properly breeding. We can only pray that the fellow doesn’t take out a school bus.

I have become very lazy with my own writing but this isn’t due to texting. I’ve been lazy. I’ve lost my polish. Frankly, I don’t care about this one. After all, my days are spent answering copious amounts of email, most of which isn’t even intended for me. There is an AnnieElf email or two tucked in that pile, I’m certain of it. I probably have Ox Surgical Updates. I am hoping that I have a small note from Michael letting me know that he’s come back from Cuba unscathed. My mother never sends me email so I needn’t worry about that.

Ah well - GOI, Aut. IADIEH.

TFLMS,

@µtr:©e


PS yes it is a new template

As for those codes
GOI: get over it
IADIEH: it’s another day in email hell
TFLMS: thanks for letting me share

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Home

Home! Home!!!


I'm home. It was a surprisingly swift trip and I will try to blog about it later on. I want nothing more than to drink my coffee, eat my toast and catch up on things at the moment.

Better Half kept the house immaculate (he must have hid the kegs and dancing girls) and the dogs are behaving themselves (indubitably hung over.)


It feels good to be back. I'm already planning my flower beds, plotting to repaint the living room, and pondering cleaning the carpets.


'Tis good.

Mum's post-op(2) appointment is this morning. I'm hoping that everything goes well. I miss my parents.

Better Half is pestering the hell out of me, although I do not mind. I have to retrain him to keep the damn Pomeranian off the bed at night.

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Our First Tree

Once upon a time, Better Half and I lived in a very tiny house that was tucked onto a very tiny street.

We planted a very tiny tree. It wasn't any higher than my thigh.

In honor of Better Half, I visited the old house and found our tree.

Look baby! A little bit of our love grows all the way out here in Colorado!

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Olympic Training Center

A couple of pictures taken at

the Olympic Training Center

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Glen Eyrie with Dad

Can you stand one more tourist entry? This one has a picture of sheep.

Technically these entries don't qualify as "touristocratic" as they are my old haunts. Dad and I stopped by here on our way home from Garden of the Gods.

Glen Eyrie. The name means "Valley of the Eagle's Nest". Glen Eyrie castle was built by General Palmer, founder of Colorado Springs. You can discover the fascinating history at http://www.gleneyrie.org/us/ministries/gleneyrie/aboutus/history

I want to wrap up these posts; this is a quick tour of the areas that we were able to visit.

The bookshop, relocated to the Carriage House, had some sweet treasured tucked away.

Spring arrives at the Carriage House

An ancient gate

You can take a video tour from this room. The Carriage House housed the horses and carriages. The floors are still rough stone interlaced with iron grates that once drained away horse urine and water. The interior is freshly painted and everything looks romantic and crisp. What a delightful find!

The castle proper was closed to visitors; there are weekend retreats in session.

Better Half and I love this castle and grounds. We shared High Tea here, Revels and Mads, and a passion for his heritage.

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Air Force Academy Stadium with Dad

I've decided to quit my day job. Now that I'm not working, will you please let me out? I don't even like football!

The idiot in the window is your very own Autrice. I'm sans makeup (do I even have any?) and sporting my nifty "get ready in under 10 minutes" hairdo.

I tagged along with Dad today. He pulled a service call at the Air Force Academy football stadium. I never stay out of mischief, of course. I accept full responsibility for my penchant for getting into trouble. I had to check out the press box.

I wonder if the non-working media is escorted away. We are an Obamanation now. The needs of the unemployed outweigh the needs of the rest. Perhaps the now-defunct Denver Post would like to appeal to the AFA for free tickets?

The views were spectacular, both of Pikes Peak and of the stadium and field itself.



Dad finished up his project...

... under the watchful eye of this military K-9 Belgium Malinois. He was exquisite. I first caught sight of him as I crossed the second floor lobby; twin ears sliced upward and deep brown eyes peered at me as he tracked my progress. (The dog, not Dad.)

He loves his Kong.


It was a lovely morning with my Dad. He explained the complexity of the sound system and relays; it was like going back in time and visiting my younger self, sitting beside Dad and listening as he taught me during our weekends at Hannon and Paramount.

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Garden of the Gods

Dad and I visited the Air Force Academy, Garden of the Gods and Glen Eyrie today. Photographs from Garden of the Gods are below.



Our last house was down the way from this beautiful location. I would frequently drive through the park as a means of relieving stress after a hectic day.

Garden Of The Gods Official Website:
"Garden of the Gods Park, with its vertical red rocks and Pikes Peak views, is recognized worldwide as an iconic landmark of the American West.

Three of North America’s major ecosystems converge within the Park’s boundaries. Its varied rock formations reveal one of the most extensive displays of earth history found anywhere.

Garden of the Gods Park is nationally known as a cultural crossroads where American Indians, explorers, “Pikes Peak or Bust” gold-seekers, railroad builders, homesteaders and health seekers all were drawn to the red rock formations that mark the dramatic meeting place of the Great Plains with the Rocky Mountains."

The park is 3,300 acres (1,300 ha) and it was established as a park in 1909 when the land was donated by Charles Elliot Perkins' children. It is a Natural Monument designated as Category III by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN).

Geological Data that Aut was too lazy to compile. It is borrowed from Wikipedia but it is accurate (amazing, that!)

"The outstanding geologic features of the park are the ancient sedimentary beds of red and white sandstones, conglomerates and limestone that were deposited horizontally, but have now been tilted vertically and faulted by the immense mountain building forces caused by the uplift of the Pikes Peak massif. Evidence of past ages; ancient seas, eroded remains of ancestral mountain ranges, alluvial fans, sandy beaches and great sand dune fields can be read in the rocks.

A spectacular shear fault can be observed where the Tower of Babel (Lyons Sandstone) contacts the Fountain Formation. The name Colorado is said to come from the color of the sandstone. There are many fossils to be seen: marine forms, plant fossils, and some dinosaur fossils.

The hogbacks, so named because they resemble the backs and spines of a pig, are ridges of sandstone whose layers are tilted. Instead of lying horizontally, some layers are even vertically oriented. Each hogback can range up to several hundred feet long, and the tallest (called North Gateway Rock) rises to a height of 320 feet (98 m) tall. A notable rock feature on this hogback, the Kissing Camels, appears to be two very large camels sitting face to face with their lips touching. The hump on the northern-most camel broke off from erosion and heavy climbing."

I hate it when I spend time typing only to find that Wiki has assembled the facts. I also am amazed when Wiki gets the facts correct.

As I was saying -

The park has its own dinosaur: Theiophytalia kerri was officially classified as a unique species not too long ago (but discovered in 1878). It was an herbivore beastie that lived on the cusp of the inland sea that was tucked into Colorado itself. Yes, there are seashells and other marine life fossils within the rock formations throughout this area. [ DinoData - Theiophytalia kerri [sG] [T] ]

The pictures here are all mine. Use them as you wish as long as you don't abuse them.

Balancing Rock

Cathedral Valley

Kissing Camels rock formation

A bunch of ridiculously fat tourists pretending to hold up Balancing Rock

I need to comment on that.

Without fail, the conversation always plays out like this:


"Hey Bubba! Lookit that rock!"


"Yeah Dahrlin, that's a big ass rock. Woooeeee. Get up there, mama, and pose like you is holding it up."


"Bubba, I doe'n know if I'll make it up thar."


"Well sugs, you just try now, and I'll snap yer picture."


** panting, groaning, torn clothing and red dirt up the nostrils **


"Ok Bubba, dahrlin, I'm up here."


** Tourtist proffers routund bottom as she strains to hold up rock with both arms, her fat face shining from the effort of climbing up the rocks **


You ought to know by now that I don't like tourists. LOL


Now back to your tour. There isn't much more.

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A Snowy Adventure, Update

Monday was Mum’s first post-op appointment. She was so eager to have her staples removed. We planned to leave at 9:30 AM. Nature decided to throw us a curve, of course.
The temperature dropped significantly overnight. We awoke to a foreboding chill that the furnace didn’t dispel. Dad and I picked up the pace as the departure time loomed closer (it was Mum who was pokey, which is understandable given how difficult it is for her to maneuver around.)

I ducked into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Thunder rolled across the sky and reverberated deep in my chest. I looked up at the bathroom skylight, toothbrush stuck in my mouth and toothpaste froth dripping down, and I thought, “No way.” Rain drops splattered onto the hazy skylight plastic. A single heartbeat passed before a flash of lightening illuminated the dark sky. The rain turned to hail and then sleet in a matter of seconds. The “microblizzard” had arrived.

Mum asked, “What is that noise?”

I spat out my toothpaste and replied, “We’re having a thunder… snow.” It’s Colorado. It happens every so often. I always enjoyed these freak storms – when I was younger and did not have to drive in it.

Dad and I loaded Mum into the car, hung her wound vac from her visor arm (not exactly safe, of course) and tucked her temporary walker into the trunk. My hair was coated in mini sleet balls (they look like the white bean bag pellets.)

Driving became a chore. Dad did well as he squinted into the dense snowfall and navigated the icy streets. A blanket of grey slush and snow cloaked the black ice, the result of the earlier rain.

Powers Blvd. proved to be the safest route until we reached one of the numerous hills. Vehicles were stationary on the slope, emergency flashers piercing through the almost-whiteout conditions. We were forced to turn right. The road led us out of our way and in the opposite direction from our destination. Still, Dad trudged on.


We reached Austin Bluffs and found the road closed. Three police cars sat in an intersection and people, seeing the futility of the endeavor, tucked into a left-hand turn lane. Traffic flowed in the opposite direction and our procession of cars hardly moved. A snowplow ambled up the hill, fishtailing a bit. The nearest officer began to shunt traffic into the left-turn lane. Dad rolled down the window (Mum began one of her wordy explanations dealing with staples, doctor blah) and I explained that she was on a battery operated pump. Say no more. They waved us through and we followed the snowplow. We arrived at her surgeon’s office within five minutes.

The roads were clear once we left the building. They reflected the blue sky.



As for her post-op appointment:
Things are healing well. She is allowed to discontinue her Lovenox, Lasix and potassium. The incision line looks decent. Dr. Fischer is very pleased with her progress.

Her ankle swelling has gone down. Her discomfort is minimal. Her color looks fabulous, indeed the best I have seen it in two decades.

Her belly is black and blue from her thinner injections (the Lovenox) but I assured her that it won’t be permanent. My friend, Ox, has been on Lovenox for quite a while and was my saving grace when it came to questions. Mum has progressed nicely, as he said she would, and she is tickled to have one less medication in her system.

Her wounds are still mending and the vacuum will remain in place for a while. She did get about sans walker yesterday afternoon. Nurse R was not due until later in the day so Mum, free of her vac, made a break for it. She ambled to the bathroom and also raided the biscotti box.

She is still feeling a loss of coping skills. Her faith in God is shaken. She is depressed. I can’t force her to speak to her doctor about it nor can I force her to “snap out of it”. She has good reason to feel depressed.

I loathe people who use the “snap out of it” mantra. Depression can not always be controlled through sheer will. We can suffer from chemical depression or mental illness. Often, depression can be a loss of coping skills; an antidepressant will help us cope with things as we relearn how to apply our coping skills to those depressant situations.

Mum’s nurse visited today to change the wound vac bandages and take her vitals. Physical Therapy stopped by and set up a program for Mum.

We booked my flight (I return on Sunday) and Dad is going to find me a box. I loathe Denver International’s scales (strange how I can ship things home on my return trip yet my checked bag is always over the weight limit.)

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