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.

Okay, I’m not too sure about the model name, but Newfie told me to go for it. My last phone, which has grown weary, was an Instinct. Maybe there is nothing in a name, but perhaps the Conquer will put steel in my backbone when I fight my way through customer service menus.

I got a phone for calls, sending quick pictures, the occasional text and the GPS. I don’t need 3-D – I really, really don’t.

This model is so new there are no customer reviews but the preliminary reviewers didn’t find an immediate issue . . . and, of course, Sprint has the 30-day exchange policy.

So, soon, a software update will come down to my new phone and I will be ready to talk. Not that some people are happy about that.

We went to the store and got lots of tortillas (or would that be tortillae?) and some pizza sauce, various cheeses, onions, green peppers, mushrooms, pepperoni and sausage. After digging out a pizza pan and my mother’s pizza stone, we went to town in the kitchen.

We experimented and there was not a failure in the bunch – including the one Der Bingle made with hot pepper cheese, thinking it was mozzarella.

But something in one of the pizzas I ate was the kind of spicy that instigates a riot in the digestive tract, so I am staying close to the bathroom. Very close. Not that you needed to know this, but I seem to be typing it.

I am reminded of a short blurb in The Reader’s Digest from long ago. Two American tourists were sitting on a bench in Egypt, gazing at the Pyramids and one asked the other of what he was thinking. The reply was, “I was wondering when my next diarrhea attack will come.”

Looking back over time, I believe my stomach is stoic (not counting motion sickness); it’s the lower part that will suddenly scream, “AmeliaJake, pay attention to me NOW.”

Were I to become a superhero, that’s the first thing they would have to fix before they could start working on flying or strength or x-ray vision. As of now, I am sitting on a virtual tourist bench hoping those cute little pizzas don’t become an acute problem.

From a day of mowing. Pulling in the back, past the downward driveway, almost to the deck (half of which was crushed in the Great Willow Tree Fall of 2010. My grandpa’s mailbox recycled by Mother. Below: I wanted to get a shot of Shane’s face peeking out from the shady bushes on this hot day, but when I paused the mower to steady the camera, out he came. Do you remember the naissant flowers of last’s week’s mowing? Well, with one more week of sunshine, here they are.
And here is a trumpet vine flower in the breeze. Oh, rats. Loading it from my Mac takes too long, so here is a youtubed translation.