Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Chef Boyardee Had a Great Fall

The assisted living nurse called the school to reach me about 10:50. Dad had fallen in his apartment. His aide, found him on the floor with a lot of blood at about 9:30. The nurse was summoned immediately. She checked Dad's vitals and cranium. She cleaned the laceration above his left eye which she said was gaping at least 1/4". Dad was sent to the ER for sutures or skin glue. Dad didn't know when or how he fell.

I went into the jam-packed teacher workroom to send my siblings a quick text message about this episode. When I turned around I bumped a shelf. A teensy glass jelly jar with a red checked lid fell off the shelf and shattered all over the workroom. By the time I swept that up, it was time to get ready for lunch. One child brought a Chef Boyardee Noodle-roni cup--the kind where you remove the red plastic cap, remove the metal pop-tab lid, replace the red plastic cap with vent holes, and nuke for 45 seconds.

Plumppf. Not the usual microwave explosion sound, but I went to look through the microwave door. Chef Boyardee had fallen over on his side and was shooting greasy red goo out the vent holes, spraying the microwave walls and down under the rotating glass tray. As I stared, the lid popped off, and this merry carousel started trailing noodle-roni like a parade of grubworms. Some people watch reality tv. I watch reality Boyardee.

I just called Dad and he was speaking clearly. He said he had no aches or pains, but I was keeping him up. He knew that he had nine stitches and will have a black eye. He said everyone took really good care of him.

I didn't ask any questions about what happened, as I didn't want to flip him into anger mode. We agreed that he would try not to have a repeat adventure tomorrow. I can only pray that Chef Boyardee will agree to the same.

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Monday, November 02, 2009

Pink Floyd switches from Daylight Savings Time

Time waits for no man, and it is scary to consider Pink Floyd wearing Depends. Time is preoccupying Howie today. I called to ask him the name for workshop masonite with holes because I was having a brain meltdown. He knew "pegboard" immediately, and I hit my forehead and said, "Duh. Thanks."

Dad was fretting about finding the instructions for his Seiko watch to switch from daylight savings. Had I run into those instructions in the chest of drawers at the house? I told him they were probably in the top middle drawer of that chest of drawers which is actually right there in his Eastmont bedroom. He was too anxious to check that out to continue our conversation.

Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.
Henry Van Dyke (1852-1933)

Ticking away the moments that make up the dull day. Fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way...

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Howard Carter discovers Mr. Coffee

Mr. Coffee bit the dust today. It's heating component just gave up after what the obituary writers would call a long battle with caffeine. The deterioration was almost imperceptible at first. I figured it had something to do with my hot flashes that the coffee never seemed piping.

I don't build personal relationships with small appliances, nor do I consider them a relic to be preserved. I rarely save their receipts or read their instructions. When they are done for, I throw them in the dumpster without a eulogy, and get a replacement at Walmart.

This was not the way I was raised, and that's okay! Cleaning out my parents' house we found four coffee makers packed in their original boxes with receipts and instructions. Taped on the boxes were notes that said, "broken". Why were my parents saving broken appliances?

Tut, tut. What would the ancient Egyptians do with boxed broken Mr. Coffees? Would they put one at each corner of the sarcophagus along with a shabti servant statue to brew the coffee for waking up in the afterlife? Maybe those tomb inscriptions covering the walls in horror vacui style contain the receipts and instructions for the tomb contents. Down at the bottom there's the legal fine print reminding the deceased that coffee is hot.

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder