I did not do much today, because yesterday I worked on straightening up the house for 8 straight hours. I was possessed. This morning I was tired.
Tonight when I spoke with Quentin, I mentioned I had cleaned house and he said he thought I had meant “cleaned house” as in killing a few people.
Strange how people get the oddest perceptions about me . . .

Today was a mowing day because yesterday wasn’t. There’s a story behind that sentence, but it’s not a great one, so I’ll let it go.
However, today’s story is a little over the edge even for me, the Amazing AmeliaJake, (not to be confused with the Amazing Lovable Furry Old Grover).
I concentrated on pushing Mother’s voice out of my head today, but didn’t succeed, so I had to go ahead and knowingly break the rule about not mowing too fast. It’s bad for the mower and the grass and low class, dontcha know? But I had limited time and the grass wasn’t thick and it worked well for the east section.
I guess I got a little cocky.
I kept mowing fast on the main lawn (yard) and was even thinking of slowing down when I saw a slim but long branch had fallen and decided to mow up on side of it and down the other.
The mower casing got just a bit too close to the branch and it hit it; normally, the branch would have been pushed away. That didn’t happen this time because I would find out an auxiliary branchlet had embedded itself in the ground like an anchor.
Everything stopped. I moved the branch, started the engine and flicked the blade switch.
OH, THE SCREECHING NOISE . . .
I looked closely and saw the branch had bent the steel frame way back and the blade PUNCHED THROUGH IT.
Hey, I stayed cool; I started the mower and drove around behind a fence in back. That’s when I found out it was really, realy bent back; no tugging was going to help. So I got a pry bar. Well, that didn’t work. I drove the mower up beside a forked tree and put the pry bar in the fork and pulled hard. Nothing.
Then, I thought, “Well, gee, what if I turn the mower on and put it in reverse?” Okay, it didn’t work the first time, but it worked after some pry bar adjustment.
I felt guilty and if I had left it at that, I probably would have been okay. I made the mistake of thinking how nifty it was of me to use the pry bar and the forked tree.
That’s when a walnut dropped off the tree right onto my head. It was the only nut that fell. No wind, not even a slight breeze . . . just PLOP!
I’m just glad Mother didn’t have a coconut tree handy.

Because I liked The Tender Bar so very much, I looked it up at the Kindle Store to see  what other people who read it had also purchased.

And I found this title: Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption.

I coughed up the money for this book because I could not turn away from it. I knew it would be well-written and I couldn’t help but feel I owed it to the man who was the subject of Laura Hillenbrand’s interest.
Hillenbrand wrote Seabiscuit: An American Legend and says when she was compiling the material for that book, kept hearing stories of a man named Louie. She looked him up, listened to his story and wrote about him.
It seems to be this is going to be the story of another champion and I imagine I will eventually be looking around for a secondhand print copy because it will be special to me.
You can read her summary of the book HERE, about half-way now the page. Below is an excerpt from Publishers Weekly that nutshells everything.

The young Italian-American from Torrance, Calif., was expected to be the first to run a four-minute mile. After an astonishing but losing race at the 1936 Olympics, Louie was hoping for gold in the 1940 games. But war ended those dreams forever. In May 1943 his B-24 crashed into the Pacific. After a record-breaking 47 days adrift on a shark-encircled life raft with his pal and pilot, Russell Allen “Phil” Phillips, they were captured by the Japanese. In the “theater of cruelty” that was the Japanese POW camp network, Louie landed in the cruelest theaters of all: Omori and Naoetsu, under the control of Corp. Mutsuhiro Watanabe, a pathologically brutal sadist (called the Bird by camp inmates) who never killed his victims outright–his pleasure came from their slow, unending torment.

I was just checking on the headlines at cnn.com. Here is the official page that came up.

Okay, everything’s jake. Now look at the bottom of that first page and notice the line-up of news videos.

Look at the one about dermatologists; underneath in tiny writing is “advertisement”. You probably didn’t notice it; I didn’t.
Click on that segment and you see this official-looking CNN page – supposedly on health.

Like a tiny wrinkle, ADVERTISEMENT is at the very top.
Now I know all this is labelled, by the letter of the law, is okay . . . but, really, it ain’t jake.

In reference to comments on this post, I think I may send away for this:

Oh, let’s see: This started in August of 2006 – a hot month – and now we have another potential fracture. Not a totally shattered one such as in the beginning, but maybe a hairline one somewhere in the area where mashed up bone was used to fuse the ankle in 2008. Or it could be some of the hardware shifting. Who knows.

This is a picture following the first surgery:

And here it is between casts:

Dr. Warrener categorized it with a soft voice and a slight shake of his head as “an unfortunate injury”. Yes, Robert got no lucky breaks in this break. That is my pun, not the doctor’s, but that is probably obvious.
Robert isn’t real forthcoming about his pain level and so, after three days of leg talk, I was taken aback when he told the doctor it was excruciating when he put weight on it.
So, rest, pain control and a visit down to the orthopedic surgeon – glad I bought, instead of rented, the roll-a-bout. Ours has got a lot of duct tape on in now after intermittent uses for years – maybe Summer and I will get creative with colored duct tape. Oh, yeah, I can see it now.
Ack, having visualized possible creations, I think maybe we should stick with grey. Or not.

I was busy today, didn’t check on my email, was unconnected. AND, SO, IT IS ONLY NOW I AM SEEING THIS:

From LZP to AJ and the Mooers

All I Need to Know About Life I Learned from a Cow

1. Wake up in a happy mooo-d.

2. Don’t cry over spilled milk.

3. When chewing your cud, remember: There’s no fat, no
calories, no cholesterol, and no taste!

4. The grass is green on the other side of the fence.

5. Turn the udder cheek and mooo-ve on.

6. Seize every opportunity and milk it for all its worth!

7. It’s better to be seen and not herd.

8. Honor thy fodder and thy mother and all your udder
relatives.

9. Never take any bull from anybody.

10. Always let them know who’s bossy.

11. Stepping on cowpies brings good luck.

12. Black and white is always an appropriate fashion
statement.

13. Don’t forget to cow-nt your blessings every day.

So I got a new phone from Sprint on Sunday and today the announcement comes that they are going to offer the iphone in mid-October. First, do I want an iphone? I don’t know, but it sounds cool. Second, we have been an Apple family since the 80’s. Third, we have always had our cell service with Sprint. It seems fated, but probably isn’t. Maybe it’s just the timing of my phone-changing and the iphone coming out making me feel irked.

I mean, really, I’ve got voice calling and voice mail; I’ve got GPS; I’ve got text; I have camera capability. I don’t NEED an iphone. But I am one to press her nose against the show window, always have been.

Oh, well. I don’t have an ipad, either. I don’t need one . . . er, just like I don’t need an iphone.

Relax, Der Bingle – I’m just having fun here.

I guess the leak was more complicated than we thought; last night it was coming down fast in the kitchen and spreading. I turned off the water to the house because the pipes in the basement form an “added to over the years” pattern.

I slept fitfully and now I am awake and fretting – shades of Mother?

Did you know faucets for old sinks with character can be expensive? Yes, Der Bingle, it is so and you don’t want to know. Let’s just say we have a well-made, nicely-fauceted retro sink. I think I mean old sink, but let’s call it retro.

And he took care of the water that started dripping out of the door frame between the kitchen and the little area from which opens the laundry room, garage and vestibule. I first felt the dripping when I came in from mowing the back yard. Nice welcome, huh?

The west-facing front lawn is a bit dry from the sun (and maybe the trees & shrubs sucking up water); it didn’t grow enough to mow.

That makes me think. Perhaps the leak is the revenge of the vine that has crept up the brick all the way to the roof. I clipped the bottom of it and at that second thought of the panic signals going through the two-story green life form. Nightmares tonight are possible.

I am not rambling; I am nattering. Just in case you wanted to know.