I realize that the best thing is to laugh at the stupid things I've done, all of the stupid things I've done. So, after posting the story about my shin, here is one about my toe. Don't worry it's short. The story; not the toe.
It was a December morning, I believe the 12th of December. I remember because it was the last day of classes and the first day of college finals. Anyway I was getting ready for class and auto-started my car when I realized that I hadn't set the dials to defrost the windshield. I ran outside to quickly set the dials (I didn't really have time to scrap the hard ice off the windshield, not without the defrost softening it first). The problem lie in the fact that I was not yet dressed.
I ran outside in my pajamas and bare feet, I figured that I would not be in one spot long enough for the cold to damage said feet, however I forgot about the ice. I was briskly walking back up my front porch, which is really a wooden deck, and stepped on a patch of ice. My right foot slid down the length of one of the boards and my toe (the one next to the pinky toe) jammed between the boards. As my foot continued to slide it twisted pulling my toe from the boards and disjointing it at the same time.
I made it to class on time and went to the doctors the next day. He asked me how it happened so I told him I slipped on ice, he looked at me and without blinking asked "Didn't the shoe protect your toe any?" Damn it! I was hoping you would catch that part. It wasn't broken but bloody and bruised. I, after previously seeing him twice for sprained ankles (different one each time), assured him I'm not a drunk.
Showing posts with label True Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label True Stories. Show all posts
Monday, May 12, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Breathe In, Breathe Out
I'm sure you've done something in your life, something stupid, that caused someone close to you to say "Someday you will look back on this and laugh." Well, I'm still waiting for the laughter. Here, I'm going to do my best to force it along. I'm going to tell you how I put a dent in my shin.
It was spring, about 3 years ago, and since the birds started nesting that spring there was a Robbin (at least I think it was a Robbin) trying to make a home in a bush next to my front steps. Every time I came and went the bird would get upset. It started leaving landmines on the steps as if it was trying to deter me from walking up them. Everyday I would wash off the steps.
One day I was watering the grass as to have it nice and green before the heat of summer killed the lawn. I spent the day moving the sprinkler from spot to spot. The finial spot was in front of the deck, it was watering the lawn and the front bushes and the front steps.
At the end of the day, nighttime, I came out of the house to put away the sprinkler. I walked down the steps, in my flip-flops, and planted my right foot on the bottom step. The bottom step on which there was a poo, a bird poo, that I had missed when hosing off the steps. My foot slipped and I went falling to earth and landed on my belly (thankfully I was fat at the time or it would have done damage).
My belly didn't take the only impact however, my right leg landed on the edge of the second step. I was sure I did major damage to my leg. It was hot, red, bruising, and I could barely walk. I was in so much pain that I had my sister come over to look at it. I couldn't tell her the whole story, but she didn't need to know that now. We decided that I didn't need to go to the ER, so I went to the doctors the next day and nothing was broken. I just smashed the netting of issue that covers the shin or something like that.
It took about a year for the shin to stop feeling hot to the touch and about 2 years for the bruise to heal. There is still a dent in my leg, but as I exercise and lose weight it keeps getting more and more shallow.
That bird never saw me fall. It dropped the bomb and left, giving up on living there. But thanks to him, his poo, a wet step, and tractionless flip-flops I am reminded of the pain of unscripted slapstick every time I see my leg in the mirror.
See, I can't laugh at it; if I could it would be a funnier story. At least I can talk about it. Anyway I'm going to end this with a finial thought, I believe it was Mark Twain that said, "A man that is able to laugh at himself will never want for amusement"...or maybe it was Shirely MacLaine.
It was spring, about 3 years ago, and since the birds started nesting that spring there was a Robbin (at least I think it was a Robbin) trying to make a home in a bush next to my front steps. Every time I came and went the bird would get upset. It started leaving landmines on the steps as if it was trying to deter me from walking up them. Everyday I would wash off the steps.
One day I was watering the grass as to have it nice and green before the heat of summer killed the lawn. I spent the day moving the sprinkler from spot to spot. The finial spot was in front of the deck, it was watering the lawn and the front bushes and the front steps.
At the end of the day, nighttime, I came out of the house to put away the sprinkler. I walked down the steps, in my flip-flops, and planted my right foot on the bottom step. The bottom step on which there was a poo, a bird poo, that I had missed when hosing off the steps. My foot slipped and I went falling to earth and landed on my belly (thankfully I was fat at the time or it would have done damage).
My belly didn't take the only impact however, my right leg landed on the edge of the second step. I was sure I did major damage to my leg. It was hot, red, bruising, and I could barely walk. I was in so much pain that I had my sister come over to look at it. I couldn't tell her the whole story, but she didn't need to know that now. We decided that I didn't need to go to the ER, so I went to the doctors the next day and nothing was broken. I just smashed the netting of issue that covers the shin or something like that.
It took about a year for the shin to stop feeling hot to the touch and about 2 years for the bruise to heal. There is still a dent in my leg, but as I exercise and lose weight it keeps getting more and more shallow.
That bird never saw me fall. It dropped the bomb and left, giving up on living there. But thanks to him, his poo, a wet step, and tractionless flip-flops I am reminded of the pain of unscripted slapstick every time I see my leg in the mirror.
See, I can't laugh at it; if I could it would be a funnier story. At least I can talk about it. Anyway I'm going to end this with a finial thought, I believe it was Mark Twain that said, "A man that is able to laugh at himself will never want for amusement"...or maybe it was Shirely MacLaine.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
The Mouse Hunt
I come out of my bedroom into the living room to find my male cat, Solan, staring at the floor underneath the blue Lazyboy. I watch him as he swats at a lump in a blanket which I have over the chair. I lift the blanket thinking he got a toy stuck there. Something falls out. Still thinking it may be a toy and it is now under the chair, I tilt the chair forward and a gray-black blur shoots from underneath the chair to underneath the curio cabinet. It’s definitely not a toy, it’s a mouse.
I decide to go into my bedroom and get a mouse trap I had set there. “It would do better in the living room,” I think to myself, “the thing has dust on it and may be in a bad spot anyway”. I bend down to get the trip (a covered, reusable one) and I see that it’s sprung. It has a fresh kill inside. I empty the trap, clean off the dust, and reset it. I place it between the curio cabinet and the entertainment center, behind a basket (so cat paws will not get caught in it).
Solan still has the mouse cornered as I find and prepare more traps. I place the second one behind the blue Lazyboy and, as I am readying another one, I see Solan chase the mouse across the living room away from the traps. I yell at him that that is the wrong way as I try to set the third trap. The spring wouldn't stay latched. Then I see Solan chase the mouse back toward the curio cabinet, batting the mouse in the air twice. The mouse runs behind the basket and Solan leaps over it in hot pursuit. I hear a snap.
I gingerly walk over to Solan. I see a mouse tail moving in the trap. Not knowing if the struggle set off the trap and the mouse is just hiding inside or if it is caught, I try to quickly come up with a plan. I realize that I want the mouse to stay in the trap, if it’s alive, so I get a bag to help scoop up the trap (before the mouse can get out) and I open the front door readying to fling the mouse outside.
Solan is still wedged between the furniture, behind the basket, ready to pounce as soon as the mouse comes out of the trap. I, ready with my bag, lift the trap and see that it did its job and killed the mouse. I show Solan (who is freaking out) the trap with the mouse inside. He looks at the mouse and bats at the bottom of the trap. I give him praise and pets -and after bringing the dead mouse outside to the garbage can- I give him treats.
About half an hour later I’m sitting on the couch and Solan comes in from the kitchen with a small, live mouse in his mouth. Both I and the mouse are stunned. I grab another grocery bag and approach Solan. He drops the mouse and I am able to grab it through the bag and release it outside. Then I give my good little mouser more treats.
—
Before you breathe a sigh of relief for the humane release of this mouse, it was injured. And when I went back outside to see if it was still there, there were bird foot prints in the snow around the imprint the mouse had made when it landed. Circle of life (eye roll).
During all of this my other cat Hillary didn’t move from her kitchen chair.
Solan has since calmed down but I’m still freaked out. Three mice in one day? I am determined to find how they are getting into the house and put up as many traps as I can. First I need to go to Target for the traps and then do some detective work. Thankfully I now know I have an excellent mouser to replace Sunny (my dearly departed tabby and accomplished mouser in his own right).
I decide to go into my bedroom and get a mouse trap I had set there. “It would do better in the living room,” I think to myself, “the thing has dust on it and may be in a bad spot anyway”. I bend down to get the trip (a covered, reusable one) and I see that it’s sprung. It has a fresh kill inside. I empty the trap, clean off the dust, and reset it. I place it between the curio cabinet and the entertainment center, behind a basket (so cat paws will not get caught in it).
Solan still has the mouse cornered as I find and prepare more traps. I place the second one behind the blue Lazyboy and, as I am readying another one, I see Solan chase the mouse across the living room away from the traps. I yell at him that that is the wrong way as I try to set the third trap. The spring wouldn't stay latched. Then I see Solan chase the mouse back toward the curio cabinet, batting the mouse in the air twice. The mouse runs behind the basket and Solan leaps over it in hot pursuit. I hear a snap.
I gingerly walk over to Solan. I see a mouse tail moving in the trap. Not knowing if the struggle set off the trap and the mouse is just hiding inside or if it is caught, I try to quickly come up with a plan. I realize that I want the mouse to stay in the trap, if it’s alive, so I get a bag to help scoop up the trap (before the mouse can get out) and I open the front door readying to fling the mouse outside.
Solan is still wedged between the furniture, behind the basket, ready to pounce as soon as the mouse comes out of the trap. I, ready with my bag, lift the trap and see that it did its job and killed the mouse. I show Solan (who is freaking out) the trap with the mouse inside. He looks at the mouse and bats at the bottom of the trap. I give him praise and pets -and after bringing the dead mouse outside to the garbage can- I give him treats.
About half an hour later I’m sitting on the couch and Solan comes in from the kitchen with a small, live mouse in his mouth. Both I and the mouse are stunned. I grab another grocery bag and approach Solan. He drops the mouse and I am able to grab it through the bag and release it outside. Then I give my good little mouser more treats.
—
Before you breathe a sigh of relief for the humane release of this mouse, it was injured. And when I went back outside to see if it was still there, there were bird foot prints in the snow around the imprint the mouse had made when it landed. Circle of life (eye roll).
During all of this my other cat Hillary didn’t move from her kitchen chair.
Solan has since calmed down but I’m still freaked out. Three mice in one day? I am determined to find how they are getting into the house and put up as many traps as I can. First I need to go to Target for the traps and then do some detective work. Thankfully I now know I have an excellent mouser to replace Sunny (my dearly departed tabby and accomplished mouser in his own right).
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