We haven’t caught a mouse yet. I suggested that maybe this was because the traps are on the floor while the mice have been on the shelves where the food is. Dad said he’d move one of the traps tonight. “I didn’t notice that empty space on the shelf.” I pointed that space out when he was placing the traps. Obviously, he paid no attention to me.
He spent most of today painting the doors on both sheds. Then he spent 45 minutes cleaning his brush. “I don’t know why I wasted that much time on the brush. I’ll probably never use it again.” He’d better use it again. He still has to paint the rest of the cement block shed. He floated the possibility of only painting the front and part of one side wall since that’s all he sees. I shot that idea down. “I think it was dumb to start painting the shed to begin with, but now that you’ve started, you have to finish. You can’t do a half-assed job.” He just gave me one of those looks.
The good news is, Dillon didn’t get his nose caught in a mouse trap and he’s still solid black, no brown paint anywhere. And Dad didn’t fall off a ladder or injure anything that I’m aware of. I take my victories where I find them.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Waiting for surrender?
First thing this morning I asked Dad if he caught any mice. He rather sheepishly informed me that he'd forgotten to set the traps, but he had found them and they were out in the garage. "Well I don't think the mouse is going to run out there, throw his body on the trap and surrender," I said. "You don't think so?" "NO!" "I'll set them tonight."
After supper I asked if he'd set the traps yet. "They're still out in my room in the garage." "It's a little hard to catch mice if you don't set the traps," I said. He went out and got the traps and asked where I keep the peanut butter. He's lived here for almost 2 years and doesn't know where the peanut butter is.
Of course as it happens, that's a good thing because I have a special jar of peanut butter just for baiting mouse traps. No point in wasting the good stuff on the rodents. I don't think they'll really care that it expired in 2005. If they're that picky, then I'll let them have some of my Peter Pan peanut butter. The old stuff was still good enough for Dillon. No, I didn't feed him any, but he did his best to get his nose up to where Dad was spreading it in the mouse traps and he followed Dad to the pantry. Naturally Dad put the traps on the floor instead of out of Dillon's reach on the shelf where the mouse has been eating.
I reminded Dad that his job didn't end with setting the traps. "It's your responsibility to check for dead bodies too." "I thought I was only supposed to catch them." "Catching them includes disposal of the corpse," I assured him. They always look so small and pitiful after you catch them.
After supper I asked if he'd set the traps yet. "They're still out in my room in the garage." "It's a little hard to catch mice if you don't set the traps," I said. He went out and got the traps and asked where I keep the peanut butter. He's lived here for almost 2 years and doesn't know where the peanut butter is.
Of course as it happens, that's a good thing because I have a special jar of peanut butter just for baiting mouse traps. No point in wasting the good stuff on the rodents. I don't think they'll really care that it expired in 2005. If they're that picky, then I'll let them have some of my Peter Pan peanut butter. The old stuff was still good enough for Dillon. No, I didn't feed him any, but he did his best to get his nose up to where Dad was spreading it in the mouse traps and he followed Dad to the pantry. Naturally Dad put the traps on the floor instead of out of Dillon's reach on the shelf where the mouse has been eating.
I reminded Dad that his job didn't end with setting the traps. "It's your responsibility to check for dead bodies too." "I thought I was only supposed to catch them." "Catching them includes disposal of the corpse," I assured him. They always look so small and pitiful after you catch them.
Monday, September 28, 2009
I don't think his name is Mickey
I need a mean, hungry cat. I made Hot Chicken Salad for lunch. The recipe calls for cooked rice. I knew I had a brand new bag of rice in the pantry. When I got it down from the shelf, I discovered a hole in the bag. There wasn’t a hole in the bag when I put it up there.
I took the bag into the den and showed it to Dad. “I think we have a mouse.” He just looked at me. “When I put this bag of rice in the pantry, it didn’t have a hole in it.” “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” he asked. Why do I have to spell everything out for him? “I want you to catch the mouse,” I informed him. “But first, you have to go to the grocery store and buy me more rice.” “Why do I have to buy more rice?” “Because the recipe calls for rice and I didn’t buy any when I was at the store yesterday because I knew I had a whole bag in the pantry. I thought about using this rice anyway since I’m going to boil it, but I don’t think that’s a really good idea, do you?!”
“Where did you buy it? What kind do I get and what size bag?” It was a bag of plain white rice, you can buy it at any grocery store, and I was holding it practically under his nose, but that wasn’t good enough. I emptied the rice into the trash can and gave him the empty package. “Where is it in the grocery store?” he wanted to know. I’m surprised I didn’t have to draw him a map.
He finally came back with the rice and I fixed lunch. In the meantime, I’d found several more bags and packages in the pantry that the mouse had been snacking on. Of course, the whole time I was moving things on the shelf, I was waiting for the mouse to come scampering out. If he had, I’d have killed myself falling over the vacuum cleaner trying to get away.
Dad was outside getting ready to paint the cement block shed. I pointed out that no one can see the shed, it’s hidden behind bushes, but he informed me that he could see it every time he went to his big shed and he wanted them to match. I thought that was dumb, but if that’s how he wants to spend his time, it’s fine with me. When he came in to lunch, he sat down and told me that he thought he’d overdone it while he was out there. “Then you can rest for a little while after lunch before you set the mouse traps,” I said. “Thanks for the consideration,” he replied. I don’t know why he continues to expect sympathy when he makes comments like that.
“I heard a segment on NPR this morning talking about the number of senior citizens reporting they’d been subject to domestic abuse in the past month,” I told him. “I wondered if they’d surveyed you or Uncle Bud?” “If they called us, we could give them an earful,” he assured me.
I asked him at supper if he’d found a mouse trap yet. “I forgot all about it.” “You wouldn’t forget about it if the mouse was in the refrigerator eating your ice cream.” “If the mouse was eating my ice cream, he’d be frozen and not a problem.” “If you don’t catch the mouse, the only food we’re going to be eating will be frozen or canned,” I threatened. He told me he’d find a mouse trap before he went to bed tonight. If he doesn’t forget again. He’s got plenty of snacks out in his room in the garage. He’d better get more interested in catching this mouse before the varmint starts dining on his candy and cookies.
I took the bag into the den and showed it to Dad. “I think we have a mouse.” He just looked at me. “When I put this bag of rice in the pantry, it didn’t have a hole in it.” “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” he asked. Why do I have to spell everything out for him? “I want you to catch the mouse,” I informed him. “But first, you have to go to the grocery store and buy me more rice.” “Why do I have to buy more rice?” “Because the recipe calls for rice and I didn’t buy any when I was at the store yesterday because I knew I had a whole bag in the pantry. I thought about using this rice anyway since I’m going to boil it, but I don’t think that’s a really good idea, do you?!”
“Where did you buy it? What kind do I get and what size bag?” It was a bag of plain white rice, you can buy it at any grocery store, and I was holding it practically under his nose, but that wasn’t good enough. I emptied the rice into the trash can and gave him the empty package. “Where is it in the grocery store?” he wanted to know. I’m surprised I didn’t have to draw him a map.
He finally came back with the rice and I fixed lunch. In the meantime, I’d found several more bags and packages in the pantry that the mouse had been snacking on. Of course, the whole time I was moving things on the shelf, I was waiting for the mouse to come scampering out. If he had, I’d have killed myself falling over the vacuum cleaner trying to get away.
Dad was outside getting ready to paint the cement block shed. I pointed out that no one can see the shed, it’s hidden behind bushes, but he informed me that he could see it every time he went to his big shed and he wanted them to match. I thought that was dumb, but if that’s how he wants to spend his time, it’s fine with me. When he came in to lunch, he sat down and told me that he thought he’d overdone it while he was out there. “Then you can rest for a little while after lunch before you set the mouse traps,” I said. “Thanks for the consideration,” he replied. I don’t know why he continues to expect sympathy when he makes comments like that.
“I heard a segment on NPR this morning talking about the number of senior citizens reporting they’d been subject to domestic abuse in the past month,” I told him. “I wondered if they’d surveyed you or Uncle Bud?” “If they called us, we could give them an earful,” he assured me.
I asked him at supper if he’d found a mouse trap yet. “I forgot all about it.” “You wouldn’t forget about it if the mouse was in the refrigerator eating your ice cream.” “If the mouse was eating my ice cream, he’d be frozen and not a problem.” “If you don’t catch the mouse, the only food we’re going to be eating will be frozen or canned,” I threatened. He told me he’d find a mouse trap before he went to bed tonight. If he doesn’t forget again. He’s got plenty of snacks out in his room in the garage. He’d better get more interested in catching this mouse before the varmint starts dining on his candy and cookies.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Happy Birthday, Mom
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My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune. ~Graycie Harmon
Thursday, September 24, 2009
It's not a contest
Dillon and I were up and in the kitchen when Dad came out of his room this morning. I usually try to stay in my room until Dad gets up because if he’s not the first person up and about in the morning, it seems to bother him. Plus, he bothers me when he comes over and informs me, “You’re up early this morning.” As if I normally lay in bed until noon. This morning I replied that just because I was up before him, it didn’t automatically follow that I was up early. “Maybe you’re up late.” He looked at the clock and started mentally calculating.
I don’t care what time he gets up, I just wish he wouldn’t seem to take it personally if I happen to get up first. Sometimes Dillon and I have to go to the bathroom and just can’t convince our bladders to wait any longer. I have actually gotten up, let Dillon out, hit the bathroom myself, and gone back to bed to wait until Dad got up, just to avoid the “You’re up early this morning” quandary.
This problem wouldn’t exist at all if I had the master bedroom with attached bath. Then he could be the first one out of his room every morning. Until then, my bladder is going to trump his feelings on some days.
I don’t care what time he gets up, I just wish he wouldn’t seem to take it personally if I happen to get up first. Sometimes Dillon and I have to go to the bathroom and just can’t convince our bladders to wait any longer. I have actually gotten up, let Dillon out, hit the bathroom myself, and gone back to bed to wait until Dad got up, just to avoid the “You’re up early this morning” quandary.
This problem wouldn’t exist at all if I had the master bedroom with attached bath. Then he could be the first one out of his room every morning. Until then, my bladder is going to trump his feelings on some days.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Ghostbuster?
I spent yesterday decorating for Halloween. I ran out of energy before I ran out of decorations, but I made a good start. There are ghosts and pumpkins and scarecrows popping up in all sorts of unexpected places. Dillon isn't real sure about some of them. The string of ghost lights on the porch isn't a problem, of course he hasn't been outside when they were lit yet. The jack-o-lantern and ghost windsocks, he hasn't even seemed to notice. The wooden cut-out of a pumpkin-headed ghost, that's a whole different story.
The first time he saw it, all of the hair on his back stood straight up and he barked and barked and barked at it. I told him it was okay and he slowly approached. No problem, right? Wrong. The second time he saw it, all the hair on his back stood straight up and he barked and he barked and he barked. We went through the same Dillon, it's nothing to be scared of process again. The last time he went outside yesterday, he ignored the pumpkin-headed ghost, so I thought everything was okay.
His first trip out this morning, no problem. His second trip, didn't faze him. His third trip, he braced his legs and barked and barked and barked at the pumpkin-headed ghost. I was across the yard at Dad's shed. I called Dillon. He had to run past the pumpkin-headed ghost to get to me. He stopped barking, kept a sharp eye on the ghost and gave it a wide berth, but he came. He hasn't barked at it again today. It'll be interesting to see what tomorrow brings.
He's probably not going to like the scarecrow that sits on the porch table either. I haven't gotten it out of the garage yet. If I'm not careful, I'll have to push him out the back door from now until Halloween. After that, it'll be time to tie Santa to the tree. What's a poor dog to do?
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Oh my gosh!
It was another beautiful day for walking the Canal Trail. First, we headed towards the museum. When we got back to the pond, Dillon was ready to take a dip to cool off. After which he was dripping water everywhere, so I decided we'd continue on towards the dam and let him drip-dry. Usually we go one way or the other, but not both on the same walk.
I always carry an old axe handle with me when I'm walking to fend off any unfriendly dogs we may encounter. I've never had to use it, but it makes me feel safer. I was definitely glad I had it this morning. When we were heading back from the dam, a black man and his pit bull were approaching from the opposite direction. I shortened up on Dillon's leash and got as far to the side of the trail as I could. Luckily the man had his dog on a leash, but it was still doing a good job of snarling and lunging in our direction. Dillon, bless his heart, thinks everyone is a friend and he wanted to go meet them. I held on tight and kept a good grasp on my axe handle. As soon as they got past us, I started walking quickly back towards home and I didn't let Dillon linger along the trail. I wasn't sure if they were going to head back in our direction and I didn't want to meet them again.
When we got home, John was working in his garden, so I asked about the red pompom plant that I posted a picture of last week. It's a caster bean plant, which is poisonous, but beautiful. Supposedly animals stay clear of it and he's hoping it will discourage the deer. He told me to feel free to get some seeds and plant my own. I told him no thanks, I'd just enjoy his. Why would I plant a poisonous plant in my yard where my dog might think it was snack food?
Here's some more of the pretty scenery along the trail.
I don't know what this plant is, but it looks like something the birds would enjoy.
This doesn't qualify as something beautiful. If you're the first one who walks the trail in the morning, you frequently get a spiderweb or two in the face. If this sucker falls out of one of those webs on me, I'll probably die right on the spot. My cousin Eddie says a squirt bottle of clorox is great for cleaning spiders off your house. Maybe I should consider carrying a small bottle with me when I'm walking!
(Remember, if you want to see the pictures full screen, just click on the photo.)
I always carry an old axe handle with me when I'm walking to fend off any unfriendly dogs we may encounter. I've never had to use it, but it makes me feel safer. I was definitely glad I had it this morning. When we were heading back from the dam, a black man and his pit bull were approaching from the opposite direction. I shortened up on Dillon's leash and got as far to the side of the trail as I could. Luckily the man had his dog on a leash, but it was still doing a good job of snarling and lunging in our direction. Dillon, bless his heart, thinks everyone is a friend and he wanted to go meet them. I held on tight and kept a good grasp on my axe handle. As soon as they got past us, I started walking quickly back towards home and I didn't let Dillon linger along the trail. I wasn't sure if they were going to head back in our direction and I didn't want to meet them again.
When we got home, John was working in his garden, so I asked about the red pompom plant that I posted a picture of last week. It's a caster bean plant, which is poisonous, but beautiful. Supposedly animals stay clear of it and he's hoping it will discourage the deer. He told me to feel free to get some seeds and plant my own. I told him no thanks, I'd just enjoy his. Why would I plant a poisonous plant in my yard where my dog might think it was snack food?
Here's some more of the pretty scenery along the trail.
I don't know what this plant is, but it looks like something the birds would enjoy.
This doesn't qualify as something beautiful. If you're the first one who walks the trail in the morning, you frequently get a spiderweb or two in the face. If this sucker falls out of one of those webs on me, I'll probably die right on the spot. My cousin Eddie says a squirt bottle of clorox is great for cleaning spiders off your house. Maybe I should consider carrying a small bottle with me when I'm walking!
(Remember, if you want to see the pictures full screen, just click on the photo.)
Friday, September 18, 2009
This and that
It’s time to drop the puck! The Hurricanes play their first pre-season game tonight against the Predators. It’s not on tv, so I’ll be listening over the computer. That should be interesting because we have new players whose names I don’t yet know, so I’m not always going to know if the announcer is talking about my team or the opposing team. Hopefully if he's describing something good, it’ll be a Hurricane doing it.
Dad went to the dermatologist yesterday. Naturally she found something else that needed testing, so there’s a place on the side of his neck that I get to doctor for the next 5 days. Dad complained that they just keep whittling away at him, taking little pieces each time. I commiserated, “Yeah, I guess the next step will be to behead you.” He gave me a look.
Tonight I had to clean it and change the bandage. You’d think they’d taken off half his neck if you went by the size of the bandage the nurse had applied. Dad held out a small square Band-Aid like the one you put on a teeny, tiny booboo. “I don’t know if this will be big enough,” he said. I pulled off the gauze and discovered a spot smaller than an M&M candy. I assured him the Band-Aid would be plenty big. “How much did it bleed?” he wanted to know. “You won’t be needing a transfusion,” I assured him. He didn’t appreciate my humor. I don’t know what he expects. You’d think he’d know by now not to look to me for sympathy.
We had grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for supper. We were going to have stuffed hot dogs until I discovered the hot dogs expired a month ago. The baked beans were already in the oven, so I guess we’ll have them tomorrow. I couldn’t quite see grilled cheese sandwiches with a side of baked beans. Prior to washing the dishes, I put the tomato soup pot on the floor for Dillon. He approached it cautiously, gave it one lick, and promptly backed off when the pot rocked. It was a Revereware saucepan and they’re fairly lightweight.
I reached down and held the pot and he came back over, stuck his head in, and licked enthusiastically wagging his tail all the while. The sink was about full, and I had to let go of the pot so I could reach up and turn off the faucet. The minute I let go of the pot, Dillon backed off again. Once I had the water taken care of and reached back down to grab the pot handle, he came back and finished. It was really cute and kind of touching that he trusts me so much that he believes as long as I’m holding the pot, he’s safe.
Dad went to the dermatologist yesterday. Naturally she found something else that needed testing, so there’s a place on the side of his neck that I get to doctor for the next 5 days. Dad complained that they just keep whittling away at him, taking little pieces each time. I commiserated, “Yeah, I guess the next step will be to behead you.” He gave me a look.
Tonight I had to clean it and change the bandage. You’d think they’d taken off half his neck if you went by the size of the bandage the nurse had applied. Dad held out a small square Band-Aid like the one you put on a teeny, tiny booboo. “I don’t know if this will be big enough,” he said. I pulled off the gauze and discovered a spot smaller than an M&M candy. I assured him the Band-Aid would be plenty big. “How much did it bleed?” he wanted to know. “You won’t be needing a transfusion,” I assured him. He didn’t appreciate my humor. I don’t know what he expects. You’d think he’d know by now not to look to me for sympathy.
We had grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for supper. We were going to have stuffed hot dogs until I discovered the hot dogs expired a month ago. The baked beans were already in the oven, so I guess we’ll have them tomorrow. I couldn’t quite see grilled cheese sandwiches with a side of baked beans. Prior to washing the dishes, I put the tomato soup pot on the floor for Dillon. He approached it cautiously, gave it one lick, and promptly backed off when the pot rocked. It was a Revereware saucepan and they’re fairly lightweight.
I reached down and held the pot and he came back over, stuck his head in, and licked enthusiastically wagging his tail all the while. The sink was about full, and I had to let go of the pot so I could reach up and turn off the faucet. The minute I let go of the pot, Dillon backed off again. Once I had the water taken care of and reached back down to grab the pot handle, he came back and finished. It was really cute and kind of touching that he trusts me so much that he believes as long as I’m holding the pot, he’s safe.
Force = mass * acceleration
See, I do remember some of my physics. Dillon and I proved the theory this morning. We also proved that you can fly without wings; although I imagine the landing is a little softer if you have a pair.
It’s been overcast and rainy here for the past several days, so Dillon and I haven’t been walking. Today it’s still overcast, but it’s not supposed to rain until much later this afternoon, so we hit the Canal Trail. Halfway through our walk, we encountered two of our Trail buddies, Jewel and her golden, Maggie. Maggie is about 2 years old, very sweet, and full of energy. She has a great recall, so has earned the privilege of walking off-leash.
Maggie and Dillon greeted each other. Jewel and I stopped to chat. Then Maggie started running around. Dillon started following. They picked up speed. Dillon forgot exactly how long the leash was. I could see it coming. I yelled out a warning, “Dillon!”, but it was too late. He hit the end of the leash, all 16 feet, full speed and didn’t slow down. I kept holding on, even while I was flying through the air.
I landed on my knees and elbows, arms outstretched to try and protect the camera I’d been using to take pictures of Maggie. Luckily, we were on a grassy patch beside the trail and I was wearing roll-up Capri shorts that ended just below my knees, so I didn’t lose any skin. The camera got wet, but still worked.
Next time, maybe I’ll consider dropping the leash instead of letting Dillon drop me. Surely, he’d stop before he hit Gaston. Katie wouldn’t have, which is why I kept holding on. What’s losing a little skin or dignity compared to losing your dog?
I never did get a really good picture of Maggie. I would have had better luck if I'd been taking videos instead of still shots. Maybe next time.
It’s been overcast and rainy here for the past several days, so Dillon and I haven’t been walking. Today it’s still overcast, but it’s not supposed to rain until much later this afternoon, so we hit the Canal Trail. Halfway through our walk, we encountered two of our Trail buddies, Jewel and her golden, Maggie. Maggie is about 2 years old, very sweet, and full of energy. She has a great recall, so has earned the privilege of walking off-leash.
Maggie and Dillon greeted each other. Jewel and I stopped to chat. Then Maggie started running around. Dillon started following. They picked up speed. Dillon forgot exactly how long the leash was. I could see it coming. I yelled out a warning, “Dillon!”, but it was too late. He hit the end of the leash, all 16 feet, full speed and didn’t slow down. I kept holding on, even while I was flying through the air.
I landed on my knees and elbows, arms outstretched to try and protect the camera I’d been using to take pictures of Maggie. Luckily, we were on a grassy patch beside the trail and I was wearing roll-up Capri shorts that ended just below my knees, so I didn’t lose any skin. The camera got wet, but still worked.
Next time, maybe I’ll consider dropping the leash instead of letting Dillon drop me. Surely, he’d stop before he hit Gaston. Katie wouldn’t have, which is why I kept holding on. What’s losing a little skin or dignity compared to losing your dog?
I never did get a really good picture of Maggie. I would have had better luck if I'd been taking videos instead of still shots. Maybe next time.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Yes, we have no bananas
Everybody sing along with me now, We have-a no bananas today!
Dad and I were in the kitchen making breakfast at the same time this morning. I was fixing my normal toasted cornbread and coffee. He got out the loaf bread and pimento cheese. His normal breakfast is cereal with banana. "Why are you having a pimento cheese sandwich for breakfast?" I asked. "Well, there's nothing else here," he said in a disgusted tone of voice. We ran out of bananas and apparently if there are no bananas for the cereal, we're out of food. "Excuse me, but you're the one that said you'd keep up with your own bananas and I shouldn't buy so many because they get too ripe," I informed him, insulted. "The last 2 were bad," he shot back.
Fine, be that way. He knows where the grocery store is and he's obviously a banana connoisseur, so he should buy his own like he said he would. I go to the grocery store when absolutely necessary and I don't consider lack of bananas a culinary crisis. The way he wants them, I'd have to go to the grocery store about every 3 days. Not going to happen. Which is why he assured me that he could buy his own bananas. Silly me for taking him at his word.
When I went in the refrigerator to get the grape jelly, I caught sight of the apple pie I made him a few days ago. "The difference between you and me," I informed him, "is that I would be having apple pie for breakfast." "I thought about it," he said. Don't know what led him to choose pimento cheese instead. On the bright side, I was encouraged to see that contrary to what he'd have me believe, he does remember how to make a sandwich! I'm going to remember that.
Dad and I were in the kitchen making breakfast at the same time this morning. I was fixing my normal toasted cornbread and coffee. He got out the loaf bread and pimento cheese. His normal breakfast is cereal with banana. "Why are you having a pimento cheese sandwich for breakfast?" I asked. "Well, there's nothing else here," he said in a disgusted tone of voice. We ran out of bananas and apparently if there are no bananas for the cereal, we're out of food. "Excuse me, but you're the one that said you'd keep up with your own bananas and I shouldn't buy so many because they get too ripe," I informed him, insulted. "The last 2 were bad," he shot back.
Fine, be that way. He knows where the grocery store is and he's obviously a banana connoisseur, so he should buy his own like he said he would. I go to the grocery store when absolutely necessary and I don't consider lack of bananas a culinary crisis. The way he wants them, I'd have to go to the grocery store about every 3 days. Not going to happen. Which is why he assured me that he could buy his own bananas. Silly me for taking him at his word.
When I went in the refrigerator to get the grape jelly, I caught sight of the apple pie I made him a few days ago. "The difference between you and me," I informed him, "is that I would be having apple pie for breakfast." "I thought about it," he said. Don't know what led him to choose pimento cheese instead. On the bright side, I was encouraged to see that contrary to what he'd have me believe, he does remember how to make a sandwich! I'm going to remember that.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Random thoughts
It’s a crazy, busy week. Between errands that had to be run, assignments that have to be submitted, and tests in every class, I’ve hardly had time to breathe. Today I have 2 webinars, a bankruptcy test, and I haven’t even started the reading for tomorrow’s assignments yet.
When I have a meeting or errand that requires leaving the house, I put in my contacts, put on my make-up, and generally try to make myself look presentable. I don’t do that every day, Dillon, Dad and the neighbors have to put up with the unadorned version. So I try to group all of my away from home activities on the same day to make the gussying up process worthwhile and cut down on the number of times I have to perform it. Yesterday I had a Kiwanis meeting, met with my Workforce advisor at HCC, picked up my new glasses and contacts, picked up my Mary Kay order, went to the dentist, went to Halifax to get sworn in as a notary public, ordered my notary public seal, and made a quick stop at the grocery store. I would have stopped at the library, but I forgot the books I needed to return. Thank goodness that can be done on-line.
We had guests at our Kiwanis Club meeting from the Golden K Club in Tarboro. All of their members are retired men. No wonder, their wives are probably thrilled to get them out of the house. Don’t get me wrong; they were very nice and obviously do a lot of worthwhile projects, but boy, do they like to talk. It’s quite obvious that being retired, they’ve forgotten what it’s like to have to adhere to a schedule! Plus, the one gentleman that took it upon himself to introduce me to his fellow members, got my name wrong every time. Even after I made a point of repeating my name to each man I shook hands with, he still got it wrong when he went on to the next man. Perhaps he needs some of those miracle ears?
My new glasses have a stronger prescription. Now I can actually see things clearly at a distance, but I’m not sure how they’re going to work for reading. I look very studious. The frames are plastic and the color is described as desert tortoise, but they look black. They sort of remind me of a cross between Harry Potter and the cat’s eye glasses from the 50’s.
Bankruptcy is ridiculously complicated. Trust me, if you had any idea how many questions you’d have to answer and the minute details of your life you’d be expected to know and remember, you’d find some way to avoid it. The assignment we had to submit yesterday had 15 questions. Everything was going fine until I got to question #5, which gave us a fictional scenario and asked us to plug the facts into a debtor-client questionnaire. That doesn’t sound so bad at first glance. The questionnaire was 48 pages long. I swear it asked for everything short of a blood test and DNA. I can’t imagine how long it must take the average person considering filing for bankruptcy to come up with all of the required facts.
I started this while I had a few minutes waiting for lunch to get ready. Lunch is now over and it’s time to get back to work.
When I have a meeting or errand that requires leaving the house, I put in my contacts, put on my make-up, and generally try to make myself look presentable. I don’t do that every day, Dillon, Dad and the neighbors have to put up with the unadorned version. So I try to group all of my away from home activities on the same day to make the gussying up process worthwhile and cut down on the number of times I have to perform it. Yesterday I had a Kiwanis meeting, met with my Workforce advisor at HCC, picked up my new glasses and contacts, picked up my Mary Kay order, went to the dentist, went to Halifax to get sworn in as a notary public, ordered my notary public seal, and made a quick stop at the grocery store. I would have stopped at the library, but I forgot the books I needed to return. Thank goodness that can be done on-line.
We had guests at our Kiwanis Club meeting from the Golden K Club in Tarboro. All of their members are retired men. No wonder, their wives are probably thrilled to get them out of the house. Don’t get me wrong; they were very nice and obviously do a lot of worthwhile projects, but boy, do they like to talk. It’s quite obvious that being retired, they’ve forgotten what it’s like to have to adhere to a schedule! Plus, the one gentleman that took it upon himself to introduce me to his fellow members, got my name wrong every time. Even after I made a point of repeating my name to each man I shook hands with, he still got it wrong when he went on to the next man. Perhaps he needs some of those miracle ears?
My new glasses have a stronger prescription. Now I can actually see things clearly at a distance, but I’m not sure how they’re going to work for reading. I look very studious. The frames are plastic and the color is described as desert tortoise, but they look black. They sort of remind me of a cross between Harry Potter and the cat’s eye glasses from the 50’s.
Bankruptcy is ridiculously complicated. Trust me, if you had any idea how many questions you’d have to answer and the minute details of your life you’d be expected to know and remember, you’d find some way to avoid it. The assignment we had to submit yesterday had 15 questions. Everything was going fine until I got to question #5, which gave us a fictional scenario and asked us to plug the facts into a debtor-client questionnaire. That doesn’t sound so bad at first glance. The questionnaire was 48 pages long. I swear it asked for everything short of a blood test and DNA. I can’t imagine how long it must take the average person considering filing for bankruptcy to come up with all of the required facts.
I started this while I had a few minutes waiting for lunch to get ready. Lunch is now over and it’s time to get back to work.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Walk with me
It's a beautiful day for a walk along the Canal Trail. This is my favorite spot, the bulkhead of the old power canal. It's sort of like having a Roman ruin in my backyard. A slight exaggeration perhaps, but I love stopping to look.
I'm no Lady Bird Johnson, but I really enjoy the wildflowers that grow in some of the sunny spots along the trail.
Above is the full view of the flower I was aiming for. Below is the close-up I attempted. Somehow in the process I missed the top half of the flower, but I like the end result. It's sort of an artsy, abstract type shot. Tomorrow I'll try again and see if I can get the flower to fill up the entire shot. Don't you love digital cameras? Instant gratification and you can take as many pictures as you want without wasting anything but your time.
And of course the best view on the trail, a shot of Dillon, who was obviously intent on the scenery himself.
We have a deal, he waits patiently while I take my pictures, and I wait while he sniffs everything that interests him along the way. We love our daily walks!
I'm no Lady Bird Johnson, but I really enjoy the wildflowers that grow in some of the sunny spots along the trail.
Above is the full view of the flower I was aiming for. Below is the close-up I attempted. Somehow in the process I missed the top half of the flower, but I like the end result. It's sort of an artsy, abstract type shot. Tomorrow I'll try again and see if I can get the flower to fill up the entire shot. Don't you love digital cameras? Instant gratification and you can take as many pictures as you want without wasting anything but your time.
And of course the best view on the trail, a shot of Dillon, who was obviously intent on the scenery himself.
We have a deal, he waits patiently while I take my pictures, and I wait while he sniffs everything that interests him along the way. We love our daily walks!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Friday flowers
I don't know if this is a weed or something John planted, but isn't it beautiful? It's visible from quite a distance and looks bright red when the sun is shining. It's like a whole plant full of red pompoms.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
It's not like they're starving
I put off going to the grocery store this week as long as humanly possible, but when Dillon ran out of dog food, I had to give in. So this morning I informed Dad that after I took Dillon for his vet appointment, I was going to the grocery store because Dillon needed dog food. Dad looked at Dillon and informed him, “I’m certainly glad you’re out of food because it was getting to be slim pickings around here.” Excuse me, other than the fact that Dad ran out of bananas for his cereal 2 days ago, he’s been eating just fine. And bananas are something he knows how to buy, so I have no sympathy for him.
Dillon was a big hit at the vet, as always. They all oohed and aahed over him. There were repeated claims that it was impossible to imagine anyone ever intentionally getting rid of a dog like Dillon. One of the vet techs wanted to know how I’d trained him to be so calm because she couldn’t ever get her dog to calm down like that. She’s new, and never met Katie, or she’d have known better than to ask me a question like that. (Dad laughed hysterically when I repeated the conversation to him.) I immediately confessed that I wasn’t responsible for his calm behavior and I wasn’t sure whether to attribute it to his natural disposition or the fact that I hadn’t trained him.
When they learned that we were out of dog food, so Dillon had gotten less than his normal serving at breakfast, they set out to immediately rectify the situation. Between the various vet techs and the vet, they must have given him at least 10 dog biscuits plus a big scoop of peanut butter. The peanut butter was on the end of a tongue depressor and was supposed to distract him while they got a fecal sample. He weighed 68 pounds when we got there, I don’t know what he weighed when we left.
He still has a slight discharge from his right eye. The eye itself looks fine. They did a tear production test and stained the eye to look for scratches. The fecal test showed that he has hookworms, and that can apparently cause watering of the eyes, so he has to take a powder in his food for the next 3 nights. I had to buy some canned food to go with his normal dry kibble to disguise the powder. Those vet personnel are just determined to see that Dillon gets more than enough to eat!
Dillon was a big hit at the vet, as always. They all oohed and aahed over him. There were repeated claims that it was impossible to imagine anyone ever intentionally getting rid of a dog like Dillon. One of the vet techs wanted to know how I’d trained him to be so calm because she couldn’t ever get her dog to calm down like that. She’s new, and never met Katie, or she’d have known better than to ask me a question like that. (Dad laughed hysterically when I repeated the conversation to him.) I immediately confessed that I wasn’t responsible for his calm behavior and I wasn’t sure whether to attribute it to his natural disposition or the fact that I hadn’t trained him.
When they learned that we were out of dog food, so Dillon had gotten less than his normal serving at breakfast, they set out to immediately rectify the situation. Between the various vet techs and the vet, they must have given him at least 10 dog biscuits plus a big scoop of peanut butter. The peanut butter was on the end of a tongue depressor and was supposed to distract him while they got a fecal sample. He weighed 68 pounds when we got there, I don’t know what he weighed when we left.
He still has a slight discharge from his right eye. The eye itself looks fine. They did a tear production test and stained the eye to look for scratches. The fecal test showed that he has hookworms, and that can apparently cause watering of the eyes, so he has to take a powder in his food for the next 3 nights. I had to buy some canned food to go with his normal dry kibble to disguise the powder. Those vet personnel are just determined to see that Dillon gets more than enough to eat!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Surviving Disaster
Nope, this time I’m not going to tell a Dillon or Dad story. This is a new series I just discovered on Spike tv. Cade Courtley, a former Navy SEAL, gives "tips for surviving perilous situations in this series featuring simulations of dangerous events.” Last night’s show was how to survive a fire in a high rise office building. Very interesting stuff.
I learned how to:
• force a sprinkler head to work
• go up an emergency stairway when a crowd is rushing in the opposite direction
• properly test a door to see if there’s fire on the other side. Use the back of your hand, not the palm, because the back of your hand is more sensitive and because if you burn your palm, you can’t hold anything.
• treat a burn victim. For burned hands, try to put gauze between the fingers if possible so they don’t fuse together
• break through Sheetrock walls to make your own escape route
• use Ethernet cable to repel down the side of the building, after you locate a tempered glass window, break it, and put a pad on the sill
• and my favorite, the proper method for jumping off a burning building, falling 7 stories, and landing on an air bag.
Next week’s show will be how to survive a hurricane. Upcoming shows will feature home invasions and shopping mall attacks. I’ll be watching. Here’s a link to the Surviving Disaster broadcast schedule. Of course surviving would be much more fun if you were doing it with a Navy SEAL, former or otherwise. Hooyah!
I learned how to:
• force a sprinkler head to work
• go up an emergency stairway when a crowd is rushing in the opposite direction
• properly test a door to see if there’s fire on the other side. Use the back of your hand, not the palm, because the back of your hand is more sensitive and because if you burn your palm, you can’t hold anything.
• treat a burn victim. For burned hands, try to put gauze between the fingers if possible so they don’t fuse together
• break through Sheetrock walls to make your own escape route
• use Ethernet cable to repel down the side of the building, after you locate a tempered glass window, break it, and put a pad on the sill
• and my favorite, the proper method for jumping off a burning building, falling 7 stories, and landing on an air bag.
Next week’s show will be how to survive a hurricane. Upcoming shows will feature home invasions and shopping mall attacks. I’ll be watching. Here’s a link to the Surviving Disaster broadcast schedule. Of course surviving would be much more fun if you were doing it with a Navy SEAL, former or otherwise. Hooyah!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
On a scale of 1 to 10
It was a frustrating weather day here if you were trying to do anything outside. It stayed pretty gray and overcast, the sun might come out for a minute, and then it would sprinkle for a few minutes, then nothing for 30 minutes to an hour, then more sprinkles or maybe actual rain, then repeat. I tried to walk Dillon mid-morning only to have it start to sprinkle heavily as soon as I got my shoes laced. We finally managed to get our walk in late this afternoon.
Except we almost didn’t get past the gate. Sometime between yesterday’s walk and this afternoon, a nice big snake decided to shed his skin along my back gate. The tail end was wrapped around the fence on one side, the skin stretched out along the bottom of the gate and ended on the far side. It was about 6 ft. long. Dillon didn’t like it at all. He stood back, inched his head forward stiffly, and sniffed. Usually he’s bouncing in place, nose stuck between the post and the gate, eagerly waiting for me to hurry up and open the gate so he can bound through. He didn’t make any move towards the gate until I removed the snake skin. While I was picking it up on a stick, he stood well clear.
Funny, he wasn’t that skittish around the live snake we encountered on the trail a couple of weeks ago. He walked right up to that one and gave it a good sniffing. You have to wonder how he rates danger.
Except we almost didn’t get past the gate. Sometime between yesterday’s walk and this afternoon, a nice big snake decided to shed his skin along my back gate. The tail end was wrapped around the fence on one side, the skin stretched out along the bottom of the gate and ended on the far side. It was about 6 ft. long. Dillon didn’t like it at all. He stood back, inched his head forward stiffly, and sniffed. Usually he’s bouncing in place, nose stuck between the post and the gate, eagerly waiting for me to hurry up and open the gate so he can bound through. He didn’t make any move towards the gate until I removed the snake skin. While I was picking it up on a stick, he stood well clear.
Funny, he wasn’t that skittish around the live snake we encountered on the trail a couple of weeks ago. He walked right up to that one and gave it a good sniffing. You have to wonder how he rates danger.
A prince among men
I love my Uncle Bud. Not only is he good company, he’s a firm believer in the importance of dessert. Last week, the phone rang one morning and he asked if I wanted a banana pudding. He was at Abner’s and he’d be glad to bring me one. Saturday, he ran into Dad at the farmer’s market. He called to let me know that he’d bought me a pecan pie and was sending it home via Dad. Dad never buys me pecan pie; he only comes home with vegetables. Today, Uncle Bud brought over a jar of fresh cooked field peas, a small container of cooked apples for Dad and chocolate walnut fudge for me. Janet made the fudge and it’s outstanding. Apparently, the recipe is on the Kraft Marshmallow Creme jar.
When Dad and I sat down for supper, I reminded him that the cooked apples were for him. They’re the kind you put on toast for breakfast. I informed him that they were in the refrigerator in a clear container, so they’re easy to spot. I then announced firmly that I was quite certain he was capable of making his own toast and heating the apples and if he wasn’t, he didn’t deserve them to begin with. “Just so there’s no confusion and you won’t be waiting for me to serve them.” Because breakfast is the one meal, he makes himself. He’s willing to put cereal or ice cream in a bowl, or open a package of Nabs, otherwise, he doesn’t lift a finger to prepare anything that goes into his mouth, he won’t even peel his own peach, and he never washes a dish. “I don’t see how I could fail to understand that,” he replied. It’ll be interesting to see if the apples are eaten.
Did I mention that Uncle Bud also cooks? He’s really a prince among men.
When Dad and I sat down for supper, I reminded him that the cooked apples were for him. They’re the kind you put on toast for breakfast. I informed him that they were in the refrigerator in a clear container, so they’re easy to spot. I then announced firmly that I was quite certain he was capable of making his own toast and heating the apples and if he wasn’t, he didn’t deserve them to begin with. “Just so there’s no confusion and you won’t be waiting for me to serve them.” Because breakfast is the one meal, he makes himself. He’s willing to put cereal or ice cream in a bowl, or open a package of Nabs, otherwise, he doesn’t lift a finger to prepare anything that goes into his mouth, he won’t even peel his own peach, and he never washes a dish. “I don’t see how I could fail to understand that,” he replied. It’ll be interesting to see if the apples are eaten.
Did I mention that Uncle Bud also cooks? He’s really a prince among men.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Thank you, God
Thank you, God for making me a paranoid, Murphy’s Law type personality so that I constantly double-check to make sure I’m not in danger of missing a deadline. Or in this case, that I didn’t depend on the teacher to know what day it is and cause me to miss 2 quizzes because she didn’t post them on the day that she had announced she would.
This was the posted announcement for one quiz.
Quiz reminders:
1. This quiz is timed and once an answer is submitted, it can not [sic]be erased.
2. You have only one attempt at taking this quiz.
3. The quiz will only be available from midnight September 6 to midnight September 7.
4. Once you start, you only have one hour to complete.
The posted announcement for a second quiz.
Quiz reminders:
1. You have only one attempt at taking this quiz. Therefore, you may submit you [sic] quiz only once.
2. The quiz will only be available from midnight, September 6, 2009 to midnight, September 7, 2009.
Finally, the posted announcement for the third quiz.
Please note that quiz one will be posted on September 6, 2009. This quiz is to be completed on that day, and will not be avaible [sic] till 12 am on September 6. By midnight, or 12 am on September 7, the quiz will no longer be available.
Yet, when I decided just on a whim to check all of the quiz folders this morning, September 6, I found each quiz already posted. I don’t know if she’s using a different calendar, perhaps the Zoroastrian or lunar-solar (?), or just can’t tell which day midnight applies to. Regardless, if I’d relied on her announcements, I’d have missed 2 quizzes and been totally screwed. Aren’t attorneys supposed to be sticklers for little details like dates?!!!
And thank you, God for the Firefox browser by Mozilla which allowed me to take a timed test without my computer freezing like it does when I use Internet Explorer.
For these things, I am truly grateful!
This was the posted announcement for one quiz.
Quiz reminders:
1. This quiz is timed and once an answer is submitted, it can not [sic]be erased.
2. You have only one attempt at taking this quiz.
3. The quiz will only be available from midnight September 6 to midnight September 7.
4. Once you start, you only have one hour to complete.
The posted announcement for a second quiz.
Quiz reminders:
1. You have only one attempt at taking this quiz. Therefore, you may submit you [sic] quiz only once.
2. The quiz will only be available from midnight, September 6, 2009 to midnight, September 7, 2009.
Finally, the posted announcement for the third quiz.
Please note that quiz one will be posted on September 6, 2009. This quiz is to be completed on that day, and will not be avaible [sic] till 12 am on September 6. By midnight, or 12 am on September 7, the quiz will no longer be available.
Yet, when I decided just on a whim to check all of the quiz folders this morning, September 6, I found each quiz already posted. I don’t know if she’s using a different calendar, perhaps the Zoroastrian or lunar-solar (?), or just can’t tell which day midnight applies to. Regardless, if I’d relied on her announcements, I’d have missed 2 quizzes and been totally screwed. Aren’t attorneys supposed to be sticklers for little details like dates?!!!
And thank you, God for the Firefox browser by Mozilla which allowed me to take a timed test without my computer freezing like it does when I use Internet Explorer.
For these things, I am truly grateful!
Friday, September 4, 2009
Who's in charge?
I was in my study this afternoon when I heard Dad talking to Dillon. “Get off the bed,” he said quietly. “Dillon, get off the bed,” he repeated again, and again, and again, and again. I finally got up and went to my bedroom. Dad was standing in the doorway; Dillon was stretched out full length across my bed.
I’ve never allowed my dogs on the furniture, but Dillon must have been allowed on beds at his previous home. He never tries to get up there if I’m in the room, but if I’m away or not in the room, apparently he thinks there’s no point in the bed remaining empty when he could put it to good use.
I told Dillon “Off!” and he jumped right off the bed and came over to me. Dad looked at me. “When you’re not here all I have to do is tell him to get off and he does. He must think if you’re home, you’re in charge.”
That’s a nice sentiment, would that it were so, but I really think Dillon was just afraid that I was getting ready to do something fun and he was going to miss out if he didn’t get down and prepare to follow me. Because in the past when I’ve told him to get off the bed, he’s ignored me as completely as he was ignoring Dad. Of course, unlike Dad, I’ve resorted to brute force and dragged Dillon off the bed when he didn’t get down when I told him to. You can’t let the dog win. Maybe the message actually sunk in with Dillon. Wonder if that method would work on Dad?
I’ve never allowed my dogs on the furniture, but Dillon must have been allowed on beds at his previous home. He never tries to get up there if I’m in the room, but if I’m away or not in the room, apparently he thinks there’s no point in the bed remaining empty when he could put it to good use.
I told Dillon “Off!” and he jumped right off the bed and came over to me. Dad looked at me. “When you’re not here all I have to do is tell him to get off and he does. He must think if you’re home, you’re in charge.”
That’s a nice sentiment, would that it were so, but I really think Dillon was just afraid that I was getting ready to do something fun and he was going to miss out if he didn’t get down and prepare to follow me. Because in the past when I’ve told him to get off the bed, he’s ignored me as completely as he was ignoring Dad. Of course, unlike Dad, I’ve resorted to brute force and dragged Dillon off the bed when he didn’t get down when I told him to. You can’t let the dog win. Maybe the message actually sunk in with Dillon. Wonder if that method would work on Dad?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
I'm a tree hugger
The Canal Trail owes much of its scenic beauty to the trees growing along its path. I always admire them as I walk past; today I was literally a tree hugger. On our morning walk, Dillon went off the trail to take care of some business. When he finished, instead of backing up, he decided to go forward. That’s fine in theory, but in this case it meant he went around a tree before he came back up on the trail. That left the leash stretched behind a tree. Either he had to go back the way he came, which wasn’t going to happen because he’s not big on reverse, or I had to follow him around the tree. Also not going to happen because although Dillon was nimble enough to make it around the tree on the sliver of earth between the trail and the drop to the power canal below, I wasn’t. If I’d tried to follow his path, it would have taken a search and rescue team to get me out. That left handing the leash off from one hand to the other behind the tree, hence my now literal status as a tree hugger. I did do a quick visual search first to make sure there was no poison ivy in the vicinity.
As we kept walking, I started to hear loud voices. There was a group of about 8 or 10 school kids, probably around 9 yrs. old, and their advisor picking up trash along the trail. Dillon was a big hit with most of the kids, but 1 was allergic and 1 was scared of dogs. The rest crowded around petting any part of Dillon they could reach. He thought this was great until the decibel level got too loud. Like most young kids, the more excited they got, the louder they became. Dillon bolted for the safety of the advisor who was trying to position the kids for a picture with the nice doggie. I thanked them for their effort to keep the trail clean, and Dillon and I went on our way. I decided to keep quiet on the dangers of ticks, snakes, poison ivy, and the fox a fellow walker had spotted about 5 minutes earlier. If you’re walking on a nature trail, you should expect some adventure, right?
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Happy Campers
We had another day of perfect weather, mid-70’s with a breeze. It was too pretty to stay inside to exercise, so Dillon got 2 walks. We were both happy campers. Speaking of which, Dad went to Rocky Mount to the podiatrist, so I didn’t to cook. Instead, I met Uncle Bud for lunch at Pino’s. Two good days in a row. I’m starting to get nervous.
Last night, I finally got one of my Stephen Huneck prints framed. It’s now hanging in the laundry room where it makes me smile every time I see it.
The name of the print is Sally Washes the Dishes. It's from Huneck's book, Sally Gets a Job. I get so many horrified reactions when people realize that I let my dog pre-wash the dishes, that I just couldn't resist it.
Last night, I finally got one of my Stephen Huneck prints framed. It’s now hanging in the laundry room where it makes me smile every time I see it.
The name of the print is Sally Washes the Dishes. It's from Huneck's book, Sally Gets a Job. I get so many horrified reactions when people realize that I let my dog pre-wash the dishes, that I just couldn't resist it.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Sweet dreams
The extra whipped cream on top of my sundae, when I stopped at the library this afternoon, I found the audiobook version of Finger Lickin’ Fifteen by Janet Evanovich. So when I go to sleep tonight, I’ll have Ranger and Morelli whispering in my ear. That’s what Friendly’s would call a Happy Ending Sundae.
Absolutely glorious day
When Dillon and I went for our morning walk, the sun was shining and it was 70 degrees. Perfect walking weather. I mowed the grass this afternoon and hardly broke a sweat. It was actually a pleasure instead of a chore. Well, that might be overstating it a bit, but it was wonderful weather to be outside.
Adding to my glorious day, I got my first grades back from my new instructor. Since she’s misread two of my questions and answers to on-line postings, I’ve been holding my breath. I got 100s and this comment “Excellent work! Very thorough and easy to read. You provided good analysis!” Hallelujah, maybe there’s hope yet.
And to top it all off, the 2-layer Red Velvet cake was on sale at Food Lion this week. I bought myself one. I have plenty to celebrate at the moment!
Adding to my glorious day, I got my first grades back from my new instructor. Since she’s misread two of my questions and answers to on-line postings, I’ve been holding my breath. I got 100s and this comment “Excellent work! Very thorough and easy to read. You provided good analysis!” Hallelujah, maybe there’s hope yet.
And to top it all off, the 2-layer Red Velvet cake was on sale at Food Lion this week. I bought myself one. I have plenty to celebrate at the moment!
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