Oooh that smell!

I'm back! Happy new Year! I have not written for a while for a number of reasons.
First, I was burned out. Completely and totally. When I was not working or running around, I went into some sort of shut down mode and needed a break from life and extras.

Second, I did not have much to say since the big lefty is still rehabbing the hip with Yoda. Once he finishes with Yoda, he heads to Jersey. After he completes his transformation, he goes back to Seattle to be discovered.

Third, the holidays were upon us and my elves were no where to be found. They disappeared....evaporated....went on strike...were MIA.....unless there was food on the table, I was alone...#whattheheck....

Once we celebrated Christmas, Tink, the pups and I headed to South Carolina for the week to chill and ignore all student requests for a grade change. On the way down I 95, we noticed a pattern...the pattern was that we would speed up for a mile and slow down to a crawl for five miles. Frustrating? Yep. After 14 hours in the car in stop and go traffic, my right leg started to spasm and either we had to stop and find a hotel that allowed dogs only 50 miles from our destination or find an alternate route.

Fortunately, we found the route along the back roads and made it to the house. I was wrong in my assumption that if I left the house at 5 am, I would miss all I 95 traffic and be early in our SC arrival. Boy, was I wrong.

We finally arrived to the island and it looked like it was spring break. The traffic was a nightmare, but we persisted until we got to the house. Hurray! Time for pizza,  salad, a glass of merlot, and bed....in that order.....

As a side note, I must admit that the pups were terrific. They slept most of the way and we only stopped twice to let them do their business at a rest stop.

The next day, Tink and I had to go to the grocery store to pick up chicken and kibble for the pups and decided to use the car in the garage that is kept at the house for when we are in town.

I opened the car door and was knocked over with a scent that could be compared to sweaty sneakers, rotten trash, and fishing bait. I immediately blamed dad and made no bones about him not cleaning his truck before he left for home. Dang, it smelled so bad, that I was going to abandon it along I 95 for anyone without a nose to take. First, I would place a sign on it...."free...one stinky car...low mileage".

Rather than abandon a perfectly good car, I opened the windows and took it on  a spin around town thinking that that would eliminate the smell.....Wrong!


Yep, as we drove, the scent got stronger and I began to gag as I crossed a bridge. Pulling out Siri, I asked for a car detailer who made house calls....found one....he was coming to the house in two hours...cool....how much? yeah, sure.....no problem....I got some spare change and can sell a pint of blood at the hospital....

My car detailer, Rodney came after driving two hours. He found the source of the scent...a rodent....squirrel, perhaps, died under the car and his bones were visible on the garage floor right under the engine...rest in peace, you varmint!

OK, Rodney spent three hours working on what he called 'death' smell. When he finished, I could still smell it, although the car was amazingly clean and shiny! Uh, Rodney, it still stinks. What gives?

"Well, death, Miz BPM takes a while to go away" as he told me a story of vultures and how they find the carcasses to eat by identifying the smell of death. Yum....

As we continued to chat, he told me that he has not worked since Thanksgiving since his contracts had dried up. I was certainly glad that I could help out in my little way. Also, he was a veteran and his father was a marine. Semper fi!

While Rodney was finishing work, a neighbor drove by, saw Rodney and hired him to power wash his mildew-y drive way. In the meantime, dad also wanted the car that I drove to the house detailed. This seemed to be a very good day for my new friend Rodney.

It was now 5pm and Rodney wanted to clean the interior rather than hitting rush hour traffic. The next day, he could finish the car and the neighbor's driveway.

OK, Rodney, if you can see in the dark, go for it. While you are working, Tink and I are going to pick up our take out for dinner. Want anything?

It took us 45 minutes to pick up Rodney's dinner and as we drove into the driveway, he finished the interior of the car. It was now pitch dark and no one could see in front of their faces since there are no street lights. Giving Rodney his dinner, we said good by and see you tomorrow as he backed out of the driveway.

As Tink and I entered the kitchen, we could see that Rodney's van was not moving. Was he dead? Did we poison him?

Nope... It seems that Rodney backed his van into a ditch in the neighbor's front lawn and could not pull out of it. Oye! That's right! Oye!

After calling security, Dave, my new security friend who stopped by to assess the situation, contacted a towing company. Thinking that I could use my AAA card (since Rodney was not a member), I made plans to use it when the van and Rodney were pulled out of the ditch. I did not want Rodney to be in the hole financially as he pays the money that he made detailing my car for his tow.

While waiting for the tow truck, my neighbor finally notices that there is a large white van in the middle of her front lawn with a police car's lights shining like  a strobe, along with Dave, the police officer, Rodney, Tink, two pups, and me with a needed glass of Merlot standing in the street as if it were a block party. As she joined us, I  met another neighbor who seems pretty calm for having a large white van embedded in the front of her house. I decided at that moment that she was cool and I liked her. We exchanged contact information and decided to get together to hit a few tennis balls before I left.

Finally, the tow truck arrives and takes 5 minutes to pull the van out. I handed the guy my AAA card and he refused it. Apparently....yes, apparently, there is an unwritten policy that states if security or police call AAA instead of the card holder, we cannot use the card to pay for towing.

Yikes! Is this going to be an "ouch" or an "forget about the boots that are on clearance this month" invoice?

"95 dollars, mam." Crud....double crud....triple crud. I just paid Rodney, the tow truck guy does not accept American Express, and I do not have the check book....Uh, Tink? Got any money?

And so, Tink was my hero as she pulled out a Visa card that was a gift from Christmas to pay for Rodney's van. As he got into the van to leave, he whispered in my ear "you don't have to pay for the second car tomorrow." What a kind man.

However, I could not not pay him for his work. After all, he has not had steady work, did a terrific job on the detailing, and proved that he was a decent guy. In a word or three...I swallowed it and insisted that I pay for all of his work. After all, it wasn't really his fault. I gave him the burger which must of distracted him as he pulled out.

And, because of Rodney, I met two neighbors who seem pretty cool. So, I have Rodney to thank for it.

On to the stinky car.....it still stunk. I bought some cinnamon scented pine cones and hoped that they would mask the  scent.

Nope.

Rodney scrubbed the undercarriage ....scent gone?

Nope!

Dad finally arrived and was also disgusted by the scent. He opened the hood of the car and finally, we had a reason for the smell. It seems that our friend, the squirrel, made a nest in the motor. There were acorns, droppings, some twigs, and a bar of Irish Spring soap! Yep, the squirrel pulled the soap into the car and used it as a blanket.



AS dad scrubbed the top of the engine to eliminate all traces of the squirrel, we drove  to dinner with the air conditioning blasting to rid the car of the scent. Did it work?



Nope.

Then I googled getting rid of rodents and smells in cars. It seems that we have to place traps around the car and not bars of Irish spring soap, leave the hood of the car open, and add moth balls around the tires.  Mind you, this car is in the garage.....

 

On the way home from dinner, he picked up Lysol and sprayed it into the vents, ran the air conditioning and heat full blast, and kept fingers crossed that the scent is now gone.

I will know in a few minutes when we head out to run errands. All I want is for the odor to dissipate. Is that too much to ask????

So, let's review.....

if you remember, last year....I had the same problem.
The car's internal wires were eaten by a squirrel. Leaving me with squirrel poo and a huge invoice from the dealer to clean it up and replace the wires.


This year, I did not see evidence of eaten wires, but the squirrel left me a gift...that is...the gift of scent.....Kind of like, Jean Nate gone bad.....



Before we leave, it is going to be my mission to rid the garage of squirrels looking for a warm dark place to nest during the winter. Let them find a nice tree to nest in or perhaps.....a little ditch across the street....

For now, I am going to booby trap the garage and make sure that this does not happen again.

Happy New Year to all!


Peace!

A Trip to Wawa

I'm back and sorry that I have not posted this week after the surgery. With the big guy laid up on the second floor, it was my job to run errands, feed him, and keep up with the enormous amount of trash that accumulated from his granola bar and rice krispie treats wrappers. Oh yeah....breakfast is always a fresh bagel, egg, and cheese. Lunch consists of a chicken cutlet hoagie, and dinner is whatever I have the energy to make. Oh yeah, let's not forget....I have to work, too. Tink has been wonderful and is spoiling him. Me? Not so much...after two days, I was ready to move him to the first floor, which he balked at for some reason.

I sort of get it. He has to be in a CPM machine for 6 hours a days while lying in bed. Therefore, he cannot move, weight bear on his right leg, and is stuck in a hip brace that looks like a torture device. His next appointment with the surgeon is on Friday when he gets further orders as to his rehab. Until then....he does not walk, drive, or hobble to the first floor. I have been able to get him out of the house a few times, otherwise, he sits in bed or watches ESPN in my bedroom. He also has an odd reaction to his pain medications and literally becomes loopy.

His loopiness means that I want him on the second floor until the medication wears off since there is no way that I can catch him safely if he falls on the stairs. And so...we wait....talk about rehab...plan for more baseball in Seattle....watch football on ESPN, and feed him.....I have to go to the food store at least once a day since he is immobile. He claims that the first thing that he will do when he can drive is to drive to the Wawa (our convenience store) and buy a barbecue chicken hoagie. That's all this guy wants for now....a trip to Wawa....

As far as other news is concerned, we had planned a big surprise party for Dr. G's birthday. The secret was safe...until....yeah...until......a colleague of his texted him on Friday afternoon (mind you, this colleague is a doctor) and told him that he was sorry that he could not make his party that night. Dude! Didn't you read the invitation that specifically said "SURPRISE PARTY"!

Oh yeah, as I drove him, Lil A and Tink to the party, it was Tink's job to text Scooby to tell her that we were two minutes away and get the gang ready to shout 'surprise'.

Imagine my surprise when he walked into the room and no one noticed nor shouted 'surprise!' Apparently Scoob did not receive the text so......no real surprise....just a party....which was still a great deal of fun.

Now that that is over, I have to concentrate on work. Like the rest of the world, I have to perform certain tasks to be paid.....although, there are days when I am at work that it does not seem like work. In other words, it is more of a lifestyle.



I do tell dad that I would LOVE to retire to try my hand at something else. However, I am not sure what I would do. But there has to be more out there where I can do something, be paid (or not), and feel fulfilled....Who knows. Until I find that elusive job, I will continue to teach, grade, and share our adventures on the road to the majors....oh yeah....and drive to the food store for more bagels, hoagies, and rice krispie treats.

Peace!

Sunday...a fun day?

Good morning! Yep, it is day two of life without the Pope and I miss the little guy. He shared so many thoughts on how to build a better society and be a better person. As I complete this post, I will share the paragraph that was most inspirational to me.

 

On to Sunday.....I had to arise early to get on the train again but the body was not willing. I guess standing for a long period of time on Saturday took a bit of a toll on the legs. But if a 78 year old man could do it, so can I.....

Unfortunately, the 78 year old man has more stamina, and I was late for the train. With that, Tink and I arrived around 11 am for the 4 pm mass on the Parkway. I had received an email from my volunteer captain to head for the Parkway to count pilgrims. Yep, a person who cannot count passed 11 without a calculator was going to count people at mass with one of the clickers.


First, we had to get through security.... and here is where my story begins and ends......

Running and limping from the train since we were late, we made it to one of the lines to get through security. Although I could not see the TSA officials (yep, TSA), I figured the wait would be like an airport line at rush hour. I could not have been more wrong....as a bus load of pilgrims cut into our line.

Then we waited....and did not move.....

I put on my distance glasses to try to locate the security check point. Even with the glasses, I was blocks away. So, we continued to wait.....and wait.....

We moved a few inches.....don't they know that I am supposed to count people? Oh, by the way, I have a ticket!

Fifteen minutes later, we moved another 6 inches....It seemed that we moved 6 inches every 15 minutes for 2 and 1/2 hours......

One block later, we are still in line with two blocks to go...crawling....legs are cramping....then the restaurant owners got smart. No one was in their establishments because we were stuck in line. So, the restaurants came to us. I was not hungry when I got into line but after three hours, the stomach began to whisper to me saying "your Kaski bar is not going to cut it.....look at that gorgeous hoagie with fresh mozzarella and tomato....roasted red pepper pesto...it is calling to us...."

Then I did it. I ordered the sandwich from line and had it delivered. Tink and I crawled a few more inches now equipped with our lunch and dinner......

After four hours, I started to jump in place because the legs were screaming.....the gel foam pads were useless....the feet were on fire....I am not complaining, just reporting facts.



Then I see it.....there are 4 airport security scanners for 200,000 of my closest friends. Four....that's right...four.....no wonder it took all day. Sheesh!

I could now see what the hold up was. The security folks were going through every bag and bag chair then allowing people to walk through the metal detectors. I watched in aghast as the two women (that's right, 2) pulled each bag chair out of its sleeve to examine it. Then they went through each cooler. I was afraid for my mozzarella and roasted red pepper pesto hoagie. Was she going to squish it looking for a weapon of mass destruction. Fear crept into my mind as I began to worry more about the fate of my hoagie than my feet.



Side bar: this is what happens when the blood pools in a person's legs and is no longer perfusing the brain. The individual starts to hallucinate about flattened hoagies and bag chair bombs.....

Then we finally got through. I did set off the security alarm with some underwire that I was wearing and had to be scanned with a wand. I saw a nun being scanned too, so I did not feel so violated.

Anyway, we made it through and I was going to wait for Betty and Scoob who were a half block behind us but I had tickets and was going to save them a space.

I ran to the corner and showed my ticket. The officer would not let me cross the street despite my ticket since the mass was beginning. And so, I stood under the flag of Sweden waiting to hear mass since I could not see it and had no idea where I was. I waited for Betty and Scoob but they never came. In fact, the police closed the security check points as they were about to pass through. They never got in!



The mass sounded nice. Although most of it was in Spanish. The jumbo trons had the mass on it with subtitles. I could not see those. So, I stood by a barrier listening to Spanish and not understanding a thing....despite having taken dos anos in escuela de espanol.....

After mass, I continued to look for Betty and Scoob who had disappeared, so I headed back to the train. Sad....I did not see mass...understand it.....or catch a glimpse of the Pope. In the week that I had spent in the city, I saw his right arm wave from his Fiat. That's it.

Was I sad? YES!



Was I peeved? YES!

But Pope Francis speaks of love and patience and kindness with compassion. Gotcha....I am being tested....thanks....

As we ran to the train, we waited as the cars began to fill.....luckily, we got a seat and as I sat, I went on the internet to read the Pope's homily. Yes, it was inspiring. Now, I should count my lucky stars that I was near the event.

Wearing our orange volunteer shirts did nothing for us during the day as we waiting in line with the rest of the hopefuls. Then I was tapped on the shoulder. A lady said to me: "Thank you for your service."

Huh? What did I do?

"Thank you for volunteering."



How nice.

You're welcome. Did you see the Pope?

"Oh yes. We had great seats (grrrr........)."

What time did you get there.

"We were in line at 7 am and got through the screening right away. Although they took my apples and water."

Huh? My apples and water and hoagie made it through the screening process and were declared safe. Perhaps they got tired of throwing produce out by the time they got to me.

"Yes, and I told them that I was diabetic."

Feeling concerned, I asked her if she had enough to eat.

"Oh we were fine."

With that, I gave her my non threatening Red Delicious apples for her hotel room. Enjoy, they have been screened and cleared as a weapon. They pose no threat to you and your husband.

Then she said something that I had noticed and loved about the week...."I was so thrilled with the city. Can you believe in the time that I spent here, I never heard one curse word."

She was right. People were on their best behavior. Or, perhaps, this is the type of crowd that is attracted to the Pope. Anyway you look at it, it was a terrific week. People came together for a common purpose, to live their faith and to listen to the head of the church.

The way, I look at it is, the world was more peaceful and kind for one week. I liked it. I really liked it....

Then it was back to work Monday.....the day was long and I wanted to come home and sit and have a glass of wine to unwind and rejuvenate. This required a quick trip to the liquor store. As I stood in line, a common theme for the week, I spoke to the clerk and asked him if he saw the Pope.



Here is his reply:

"Yes, I did. First, I watched half of the Eagles game which started at one (what?). Then I left the house and got in line."

How long did it take you to get through?

"Forty five minutes."

WHAT!????? Where were you?

"Twelfth and Wood".

Crud! This was five blocks from our crammed security check point. Did you have a ticket?

"Oh yes. I was very close."

I wanted to shout, but held my angst back and considered a few things.

First, I was blessed to have had the experience.

Second, I learned new things like how to read a train schedule and pay for a train ticket.

Third, people are basically kind and good. It was a privilege to have served in such a way. Some day, if the Pope comes back, which he won't, I will have no qualms about doing it again.

Now, it is time for me to figure out what I am going to teach today......let's see......blank.....I am drawing a blank...

Coffee time!



PS: Here is the paragraph that I plan to share with my family: "Faith opens a “window” to the presence and working of the Spirit. It shows us that, like happiness, holiness is always tied to little gestures. “Whoever gives you a cup of water in my name — a small gesture — will not go unrewarded”, says Jesus (cf. Mk 9:41). These little gestures are those we learn at home, in the family; they get lost amid all the other things we do, yet they do make each day different. They are the quiet things done by mothers and grandmothers, by fathers and grandfathers, by children, by brothers. They are little signs of tenderness, affection and compassion. Like the warm supper we look forward to at night, the early lunch awaiting someone who gets up early to go to work. Homely gestures. Like a blessing before we go to bed, or a hug after we return from a hard day’s work. Love is shown by little things, by attention to small daily signs which make us feel at home. Faith grows when it is lived and shaped by love. That is why our families, our homes, are true domestic churches. They are the right place for faith to become life, and life grows in faith."

Peace!

The start of something fast

Good morning! I am back at my desk temporarily trying desperately to catch up on work and work and work....

Have you ever witnessed a standing ovation at a funeral? For those of you who attended Big M's funeral, you saw something unique. First, the large church was full of guests. Second, there were two eulogies, a note of thanks from Big Sis, and a country singer crooning a song of meditation that he wrote for Big M. Anyway....



After the first eulogy, there was a standing ovation.....applause for the next speaker, Dr G, the applause for Big Sis. Once the meditation part of the Mass started, our favorite budding country singer, Lil R (actually, he is 6'5" and pretty big) sang a song that he wrote for Big M called "The Giver" which he plans on recording next week in Nashville.

It was a true celebration of Big M's life as we did not have flowers but plants, trees, perennials, and shrubs surrounding his casket and altar. No one wore black since we were celebrating a life. This meant that I had to hit the mall since all I wear is black. (Found a few dresses on clearance...had a coupon....). An amazing tribute for an amazing man. Until we meet again.....

Ok, on to new news about the Big lefty....are you ready? I am not sure that I am BUT.....

He arrived in Seattle on Saturday night and had a throwing session on Sunday. After not pitching for three months, he hit 91 mph. Yep, you read that correctly. 91...9-1......a tick on the clock greater than 90.

With that, the director said something that he never says to any of his clients....:"Son, you will hit 100 mph and sit at 95."

Yes, that is right....95-100...call up the scouts now!



Ok, don't call anyone...

On Monday, he called in a salty mood..."My hip is killing me."


Oh boy...no one can hit 95 mph without a good  or even a marginal hip. So, he is bummed....Until.....

Dad jumped in with his practical advice..."You threw for the first time in months on Sunday. Of course, you are going to be sore today. Relax."

And with that, dad is right (don't tell him that I made this admission). The Big Lefty will hit 100....be signed....and the rest will be history.

Well, I am a dreamer, right? Maybe. But, let me say this....the road to success is hard work and perseverance. Yes, luck is part of it. A dose of ambition and athleticism is also part of the equation. This guy has all of it. And I look forward to seeing him pitch again.

His friend, Texas, is pitching in an independent league and if the big lefty is not signed, he will play in the fall in Florida. I am hoping and praying that he signs before this happens and we can stop worrying about the future....

Although, a friend with a 41 year old son said that you never stop worrying and it is part of parenting. Is that right, BP Grandmom and Grandpop? Have you stopped worrying about us yet?

On to my work....

Peace!