Nearly There...
This past week has been a hectic one. Been working on a project that I'm just putting the finishing touches on now.
Spent yesterday redoing the master and guest bathrooms, complete with the inevitable clean up required by yet another plumbing problem. It was not pleasant. It did, however, result in getting some beautiful new shower curtains up, which in turn inspired me to gussy up the bathrooms in general. The curved shower curtain rod, shown here with actual towels, just plain rocks. It feels like the shower is two times bigger now. From an aesthetics perspective, I'm much more excited about the guest bathroom, though those outdoor light fixtures really, really need to go. I still can't imagine what the previous owners were thinking.
I spent the first half of today thoroughly engaged in my never ending battle with the laundry. That's the trouble with laundry - it just never goes away. While I'll admit a certain perverse joy in washing clothes, putting them away I could simply do without. Except that you can't, so I finally break down and hang/fold/toss into drawers and life becomes much more zen for a few days. I was bustling about rearranging the linen closet, as that's an excellent way to avoid actually folding the linens, when the phone rang.
It was my Mom. My Dad had, apparently, suffered a mild stroke this morning and was at Stanford Hospital. I was in her car heading there about 40 minutes later. My Mom said he was okay and that his tests didn't show any damage, but I don't think anyone is ever really prepared to hear the words "your father" and "stroke" in the same sentence. Well, I sure wasn't.
The weather all day has been gray, wet and rainy. Good weather for staying inside and puttering around the house. It let up a bit by the time we arrived at Stanford, and we reached my Dad's room mostly dry. He was in great spirits and feeling wonderful. His sense of humor was as strong and quirky as always. He said all the numbness in his face and arm had subsided. He was a bit grumpy that he hadn't eaten all day and that they'd only feed him ice chips. We laughed a lot.
Dad told me to stop worrying almost immediately after I sat down next to him, but I didn't stop until he started cracking jokes about us sneaking him a plate of rustic vegetables and some tomato soup. Having snuck many a snack into hospitals, usually in gummy candy form, I would have complied. When someone sick asks for something that healthy, how are you supposed to refuse? Then Mom quite rightly pointed out that in this particular case it was a big no-no, citing several signs on display in the ER this morning regarding not feeding patients who'd suffered stroke, so no food smuggling occurred. Infinitely pragmatic, my Mom.
We left after being there for two hours or so. My Dad should go home tomorrow after an MRI to confirm that all is actually well. Phew. Crisis averted.
I saw this sign in the elevator bay at Stanford. I know I'm easily amused, but this one's just great. Especially when you're nervously skulking the halls of a hospital trying to figure out why you can't find the elevator. Or the stairs. Or a sign telling you where either of those things is hiding.
Where, might I ask, was my would-be-but-forbidden robotic traveling companion? Said rumored robot surfaced during neither of my trips on said elevator. Even though it had a sign. I hadn't thought to bring my own, either.
Headed home, had dinner. Updated some wiki pages and what not. Now I'm hanging out on IRC. I still have a great big pile o' laundry sitting on my bed. I think I'll cajole myself into doing it by watching The Living Daylights.
<random aside>
It's getting hot in here. That does not mean I'm advocating nudity as a lifestyle choice.
</random aside>
Spent yesterday redoing the master and guest bathrooms, complete with the inevitable clean up required by yet another plumbing problem. It was not pleasant. It did, however, result in getting some beautiful new shower curtains up, which in turn inspired me to gussy up the bathrooms in general. The curved shower curtain rod, shown here with actual towels, just plain rocks. It feels like the shower is two times bigger now. From an aesthetics perspective, I'm much more excited about the guest bathroom, though those outdoor light fixtures really, really need to go. I still can't imagine what the previous owners were thinking.
I spent the first half of today thoroughly engaged in my never ending battle with the laundry. That's the trouble with laundry - it just never goes away. While I'll admit a certain perverse joy in washing clothes, putting them away I could simply do without. Except that you can't, so I finally break down and hang/fold/toss into drawers and life becomes much more zen for a few days. I was bustling about rearranging the linen closet, as that's an excellent way to avoid actually folding the linens, when the phone rang.
It was my Mom. My Dad had, apparently, suffered a mild stroke this morning and was at Stanford Hospital. I was in her car heading there about 40 minutes later. My Mom said he was okay and that his tests didn't show any damage, but I don't think anyone is ever really prepared to hear the words "your father" and "stroke" in the same sentence. Well, I sure wasn't.
The weather all day has been gray, wet and rainy. Good weather for staying inside and puttering around the house. It let up a bit by the time we arrived at Stanford, and we reached my Dad's room mostly dry. He was in great spirits and feeling wonderful. His sense of humor was as strong and quirky as always. He said all the numbness in his face and arm had subsided. He was a bit grumpy that he hadn't eaten all day and that they'd only feed him ice chips. We laughed a lot.
Dad told me to stop worrying almost immediately after I sat down next to him, but I didn't stop until he started cracking jokes about us sneaking him a plate of rustic vegetables and some tomato soup. Having snuck many a snack into hospitals, usually in gummy candy form, I would have complied. When someone sick asks for something that healthy, how are you supposed to refuse? Then Mom quite rightly pointed out that in this particular case it was a big no-no, citing several signs on display in the ER this morning regarding not feeding patients who'd suffered stroke, so no food smuggling occurred. Infinitely pragmatic, my Mom.
We left after being there for two hours or so. My Dad should go home tomorrow after an MRI to confirm that all is actually well. Phew. Crisis averted.
I saw this sign in the elevator bay at Stanford. I know I'm easily amused, but this one's just great. Especially when you're nervously skulking the halls of a hospital trying to figure out why you can't find the elevator. Or the stairs. Or a sign telling you where either of those things is hiding.
Where, might I ask, was my would-be-but-forbidden robotic traveling companion? Said rumored robot surfaced during neither of my trips on said elevator. Even though it had a sign. I hadn't thought to bring my own, either.
Headed home, had dinner. Updated some wiki pages and what not. Now I'm hanging out on IRC. I still have a great big pile o' laundry sitting on my bed. I think I'll cajole myself into doing it by watching The Living Daylights.
<random aside>
It's getting hot in here. That does not mean I'm advocating nudity as a lifestyle choice.
</random aside>
Labels: domestic sphere, james bond, laundry, nelly, remodeling, robots, smuggling
posted by Leslie Hawthorn at 8:52 PM
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