Big Weekend Planned

Scary diagnostic medical image - bad feeling to look at

Scary diagnostic medical image - bad feeling to look at

I spent much of yesterday at Franklin again – my orthopedic specialist told me he didn’t think I will need surgery. He did say that if I find myself in the same kind of pain I had previously, he’ll want to “scope it and clean it out,” referring to the bone spurring on the acromium. He also said he wouldn’t re-inject the shoulder with cortisone because a) if the pain returns, cortisone would clearly not be the step to take in addressing the problem, and b) my reaction to the cortisone injection earlier this month contraindicates the substance’s further use. The doctor prescribed a muscle relaxant and physical therapy for residual trapezius (sp?) pain. Hopefully I won’t get addicted. “Don’t drive after you’ve taken (the medication),” the doctor said, “It will either make you goofy or somnolent.” I was glad I had the sense to take snacks, because my 10:00 am appointment got me seen by around noon, and then a long drive home.

Back home, I folded laundry, ate a sandwich.

Caution-Lady’s parents arrived while I was folding towels. When CL and Seventy-Six arrived, we left the little baboon with his grandparents and went to our appointment with the tax accountant.

After that, out to dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. I ate too much. Way too much. Then tried to comment about it on Facebook and erred typographically, finally gave up and went to bed.

He wont be a hungry baby after eating some of this cake

He won't be a hungry baby after eating some of this cake

Today it’s back to the happy place, then, after work, back home to clean and decorate for tomorrow’s big party with invited guests to celebrate Seventy-Six’s first year out of the womb. He’ll be thrilled. He already knows, because he’s a baby, that everything that happens is all about him, anyway.

The other thing we’re doing this evening is going back with my father-in-law to have another look at the house we walked through Tuesday. Will look at utility bills, run the faucets, flush the toilets, try to open windows, and so forth. Caution-Lady, who’s not impressed with anything, described this house as her “dream house.” Of course, it has a dream house price tag, and it remains to be seen whether that can be negotiated.

Sunday? Probably to church. I like our church.

4 thoughts on “Big Weekend Planned

  1. Well, we got the house ready for the party.

    Friday the realtor’s office phoned saying they wanted to show the house yesterday (Saturday). They’ve got a snotty telephone woman who usually makes those calls sounding as if she feels she speaks from the mount to needy supplicants. I’d told our realtor last week that we were unwilling to show the house this weekend because of Seventy-Six’s party. So when I got home Friday evening, I was pretty furious with the people at the realtor’s office. My anger burned within me (to sound biblical). I wanted to Mag-Lite that fool at the realtor’s office.

    Anyway, it was too late to cancel. We got the house ready. I phoned our agent to find out why her office had arranged a showing against our wishes, and she told me she’d forgotten to tell the office staff. Oddly enough, knowing what went wrong was sufficient to override my desire to smite someone. Made it all better. I wish everything was that easy.

    Seventy-Six was having his morning nap, my wife was still in lounging clothes, and here the showing agent pulls up in the driveway almost an hour early. Pleasant enough fellow, he and his client had driven at least two hours from near the top (northernmost part) of the state to look at houses here at Stepford. I told them they were welcome to walk-through while we were here, or could give us a little time to get it together and clear out.

    The agent said they had another house they could look at first, and would 20 minutes be enough. It was.

    My father-in-law and I headed out for lunch at the Flatiron Cafe while my Caution-Lady and my mother-in-law drove out to a Stepford bistro, The Sweet Aroma Cafe, that caters primarily to the lovely ladies of Stepford. While the women were running errands the nature and importance of which were beyond my ken, my father-in-law and I picked up card tables, finger sandwiches, and something called a cheese-roll; took that stuff to the house, by which the realtor had been and gone; then drove to a neighboring burg to pick up a favorite cousin. She is too old to safely drive the distance, never completed college, but is a brilliant woman with a sharp sense of humor. And she really loves Seventy-Six.

    Then back to the house.

    My mom was already there. Her birthday actually falls on the 14th, and she was gracious enough to share the day with her yearling grandson.

    We were slow about getting everyone to eat of the finger food, and in like manner dilatory about getting the cakes and candles done, but people seemed to have at least an okay time. With a house full of people every one of whom you like, respect, and enjoy spending time with, it’s hard when you can’t spend real conversation time with every one. And hard when your house is so small you can’t invite everyone you want to invite.

    I guess I’ll post some video and photos on Facebook in a couple of days.

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