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16
Aug 12

A day out

squash

No. A thousand voices scream out at once. No. The voices were all kids and kids-at-heart. No one is ready to see hints of fall. The left, logical, side of the brain says: Squash. The right, intuitive, side screams: Autumn!

And that, in mid-August, is not cool. There will be a time for it, late September, perhaps. That day is not now.

This was at the locally grown, artisanal vegetable place where we purchase an exceedingly abundant basket of vegetables each week. Fresh food, charming people, delightfully disorganized basket procurement process.

That was our last stop of the day. We bought gas, which is riveting. Riveting!

We shop at Sam’s for gas as often as not. They’ve reduced the entire petroleum purchase experience entire an almost sterile environment. Sterile for stone, cement and gas, at least.

There are eight pumps, allowing for 16 customers at a time. There is no store, no cash, no distraction. You focus entirely on the task of purchasing the cheapest gas in town. (Only the prices are going back up again. Cheap is relative.) They have one person staffed there, presumably in case something catches fire.

It is interesting how you can grow so accustomed to the absence of that interaction. The pay-at-the-pump model has removed every human interaction from fueling your car. At Sam’s they’ve stripped it down to solitude. One nice lady, unlike the rest of her colleagues who just stand around, actually mingles with the customers. The first time she does it can take you by surprise. In the last two years, though, I’ve been learning about her life in 15 second increments. I’ll have to start writing that down.

We visited the pharmacy to pick up new medication. We drove through the worst traffic in town. Three of the biggest intersections downtown had no power. Also this is the first week of the semester crush — too many extra families and too freshmen who are still learning their way around town, when to drive and when to lose their keys — that overburdens the local roads.

Police officers were directing traffic. You wonder how long they spend on that at the academy. Do some of the cadets adapt to it better than others? Is there a special commendation? When the intersection goes dark do the dispatchers call him in to run the show?

Does he then think “And I really wanted to take a nap under the overpass today!”?

We visited the meat lab. You buy select cuts from the university at big discounts. It gives you the feeling of living in an old-time company town, spending your income at the company store. But who cares? We bought two New York Strips and four pork loins for 20 bucks.

If only there was a charcoal lab on campus. We’d probably grill every night.

The next, and last stop, was to the market for the vegetables and seeing the squash above.

This, believe it or not, was a big day out. (I can’t complain because, you know, summer … ) Sitting inside for more than a month now hasn’t been ideal, but I’m bouncing back. I wasn’t exhausted when we got home. But I was sore.

I blame the vegetables.

Those baskets are heavy.

Later: Grilled the steaks in a mild, moist August evening. Put on just enough charcoal to kiss the meat, we had okra and mashed potatoes, both from the vegetable basket. Everything but the seasoning was raised nearby. I feel like I need an imported dessert, just to throw things off.


12
Aug 12

Catching up

The Sunday picture post, adding pretty and pretty boring things to the Internet for … about a year and a half now. Who knew we could get so much out of just a few random extra pictures from the previous week that didn’t have any other home?

On with it, then. These are vegetables from the local market where we pick up a basket every week. Red beets, golden beets, celery, cabbage, jumbo carrots and rainbow carrots are in here. They stuffed them in ice and covered the whole thing in burlap coffee bags to keep it cold in the August heat. That’s old school:

veggies

From my orthopedic doctor’s examination room. Admit it, you want one of these in your office. That’d be a great conversation piece:

waste

I watched the latest Transformers movie recently — it made such an impact I haven’t even written anything about it here, beyond the visual effects it wasn’t even decent. It made me think, what if this guy was a transformer? Where would all of those hoses go?

truck

Saw a rollover on the freeway. This was about 10 minutes after it happened, I’d guess. Police were just getting there. Thankfully everyone seemed OK:

rollover

She’s tired of watching the Olympics:

Allie


10
Aug 12

My collarbone, before and after

Surgery, that is. Saw my ortho today for the latest check up. I waited in his waiting room for 40 minutes. First time I wasn’t just whisked inside. I waited in an exam room for quite some time too. He spent about four minutes with me. Checked my range of motion, heard my complaints and said everything was coming along just as it should. Even my complaints are normal.

We took an X-ray.

Old busted:

collarbone

New hotness:

collarbone

That’s the finest titanium from Germany. Hopefully the screws are of equal craftsmanship. There’s no need to have six screws loose.

I wrote, a while back, about Fabian Cancellara:

This is what I don’t understand: Professional cyclist Fabian Cancellara broke his collarbone at the beginning of April. He fell in a race in a bad way. He had a quadruple fracture. I’ve seen the X-ray, it was bad. And yet, just two months later, he won the prologue of the Tour de France and held the lead for days. I’m not making a comparison, because that’s just foolish. Cancellara is a terrific cyclist and a hard man, but how did he do that?

I asked the surgeon about that.

“Hey, doc, clearly this guy is a superior athlete. I’m not what he is, but how did he do that?”

“Training, therapy, incentive.”

“I know that’s his livelihood,” I said “but how did he endure that?”

“That’s not your livelihood is it?”

“No.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

I’ll just console myself that he spent more time lying on the ground than I did. They put him on a gurney. I walked off.


8
Aug 12

Just one thing

… And, no, this isn’t fishing for anything. Since I’ve been hurt I’ve received many fine cards and a few nice phone calls. I got an awesome tree. I got a care package with snacks — and a yo-yo! I got a great book on 20th century history. I love them all.

But the next time I have to send something to someone, I’m sending food.

Because this brisket, from our friends Kate and John, was awesome.

brisket

Awesome. It showed up on our doorstep and we baked it. What a country, as they say. Now we have several days of comfort food stocking the fridge. Our refrigerator has, perhaps, never looked this good. And our refrigerator is usually stocked with tons of delicious things.

But, tonight, brisket.


7
Aug 12

“The sky has a six pack”

Keeping busy. All is grand. Peachy keen, really. I should be doing less. This is my contradiction: I can’t do much, naturally I want to do more.

I’m learning what to do when, meaning: not that and never. This is a slow trial and error process. I think I should be able to do everything I normally do, of course. Need help hauling that cement? Doing a bit of roofing repair? Playing a little tag football? I can’t do those things yet. (I don’t know anything about roofing, but give me a few months and I’ll come help you carry cement bags if you like.) It frustrates me a bit that I can’t do the basics, like pick up things, or reach.

This is the other thing I know: don’t push through the pain barrier.

Easy to say, difficult to do. Three days of medium activity means I’ve asked too much of a shoulder just three weeks removed from the operating table. That’s created a cumulative discomfort. Happily, all of the things I’d complain about are par for the course based on what I’ve read; I just need to do less. Being hurt does not allow for a lot of exciting blogging.

Meantime, I looked out of the windows to the east this evening and saw the neighborhood bathed in a beautiful light. I walked outside to the west and saw this:

sunset

We do have the best sunsets here.