Digitally Impaired

Wandering daughter hit the road for ten days with mama's digital camera.

Who knew we would feel so lost.
Sigh.

Sunday Morning

Friday night I was buckled into my seat on an airplane with my 4-year old granddaughter Victoria, buckled in next to me on a runway in Minneapolis. We sat there for about 4 hours, awaiting Air Traffic Control's permission to take off, due to very bad weather. This morning I checked the Minneapolis Star Tribune Sunday edition to see how much snow they got up there on the night they made us wait for so long on an airplane with nothing more to eat than a few cans of Pringles but never made it to the weather page. Instead, a caption about an article caught my eye, it directed me to a blog that I've been reading all morning.

I would suggest you go there, if you're so inclined. Read the blog. Look at the pictures. It's an incredible story about ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances. If you are a person who believes and prays, a young man named Matt with the weight of the world on his shoulders and a tiny little baby girl in his arms could use our support. He is detailing his thoughts in simple words and photos as day by day their story unfolds. Eloquent. Honest.



I taped their names next to my kitchen sink to remind me to pray for them every time I see it. It's also a reminder to be thankful for my own blessings, to make each moment count and to tell the people in my life how much I love them. That's my little Victoria's art work next to the note. She made that for Grandma before we flew her home.

Here is the blog address, it's something special:

http://www.mattlogelin.com/if-you-havent-been-here-before/

Yeah, this is pretty much how we roll

Road Trip

We're on our way to feed the swans in our favorite pond across town.
It's a bit of a drive, but we brought markers, toys, puzzles, snacks and beverages to make sure no one got too antsy. We got antsy anyway.

Grandma, I want out of this seat.
No, you have to stay in the seat and be safe.
But I want out, it's hurting me, it's hurrrrrrrting me.

We stop. I check the straps. I make note that the pain mysteriously disappears the moment I stop the car, but I dutifully check the straps anyway. I am, after all, a Grandma and car seats have changed since I was a mommy. What do I really know about straps anyway.

A couple more miles down the road.
Grandma, I want out of my seat. It hurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrts.

We'll be there soon. Your seat is fine.
I note great twisting and turning going on in the back seat from the glimpses I can catch in my rear view mirror. Grandma..........it really really hurts.........it's choking meeeeeeeeeee.......
There is a most sorrowful tone of voice, perhaps even the slight hint of a groan.

Nice try, sister. We'll be there soon.
If you sit up right, that strap won't choke you. Grandma wants you to be safe.

Grandma Debbie?

Yes?
Grandma Debbie, you don't have a Grandpa?
You mean, do I have a Grandpa living with me? No, I don't have a Grandpa living with me, it's just me. I'm just a Grandma and I live with Binksy the cat.

Oh. You don't want a Grandpa?
Well, I suppose if I found one I liked I wouldn't mind having one.

I'll find you one, Grandma Debbie.

I'll go shopping maybe, at the store. and I'll get you a Grandpa.

Grandpa's RUs ????
OldFartMart??

We pause again, for Moments with The Granddaughter

Markers and messy stuff.
Our kinda fun.

Kickin' up mud on Saturday

Southeast Iowa.
Just a few miles past the second pasture on your left.
Sunny spring day. Nice breeze.
And lotsa noise.

Double click on the arrows:

Fun day in the mud.

Me too, Eddie Rabbit

Morning, actually.
On my way to work.

Daylight tries to break.

But Mother Nature wins.
And I wish I had umbrella.

Colonoscopy thing

You're older than dirt. At least that's what your kids tell you.
You can't remember what you had for breakfast most days.
The carpet and the rug are both a little threadbare and faded.
Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.

Bottoms up, baby.
It's time to get thee in to thy friendly neighborhood colonoscopist.
Pronto.

Been there, done that.
I'm here to tell you, it's a piece of cake.
But don't take my word for it.

Cut and paste the address below into your browser and take a few minutes to read Dave Barry's thoughts on the subject of his colonoscopy.
He'll explain why he made the appointment and all....
......well, almost all the details of how it went.
No one has ever described it better.

Now, go read what one of my favorite humorists has to say.
And then come back, because Mr. Barry left out one tiny little detail......

Go on, now. Go read:

www.miamiherald.com/418/story/427603.html

(Cut away to Jeopardy ticking clock song here......)

duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duhhhh
duh-duh-duh-duh-dee-duhduhduhduhduh
duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duhhhh
dee

dee dee dee
dee. dee. dee.

While you were away reading, I Google'd the subject of Colonscopy and found the Internet to be a bottomless wealth of information. I realized that I am a little behind in my research on the subject. I assume most people my age are smarter than me about these things......
...butt .......maybe I am wrong.


Here's an interesting little factoid for you.

In a study at a well-respected university, physicians offered Ear Buds
to colonoscopy patients so that they could listen to music while
they underwent the procedure. The study did not detail the patients
tunes of choice, but it certainly begs the question, doesn't it?

Baby Got Back?
I've Got You Under My Skin?
Honky Tonk Badonkadonk?
I've Got Friends in Low Places?
Dancing in the Dark?
Cuts Like a Knife?

Ok, sorry.
I'll stop.



So anyway, you read Dave Barry's article in the Miami Herald and now you know that you have nothing to fear. The preparation is fairly miserable but you endure it in the privacy of your own home and certainly won't die from it. The colonoscopy procedure itself is just what he says:
a piece of cake.

There is just one itty bitty thing that Dave Barry forgot to mention.
It's not THAT big of a deal. But when you wake up and it's all over and you're lying there thinking to yourself, "wow, that was no big deal" you will, as your mind begins to clear, become aware that you are in a recovery room full of other patients and nurses.

As you listen, it becomes evident that the nurses are on a mission.
They are coaches, in a sense. Directors, perhaps is a better word.
And you have one more important job to do before they'll let you go home.

You have to join what I think of as the Post-Colonoscopy Chorus.
At first, it'll be weird. But it won't take long before you realize
you're just another voice in the chorus and you'll join right in like
you've all been friends for years.

"Come on, everybody!" your Nurse/Choral Director will say....

"One, two three...fart, everybody! No one goes home until they've passed all of that gas!"
And you will. You'll fart like nobody's business.
With gusto!!!