I do take quite a few photos now. It's funny, I have rolls of film from vacations and trips from years ago never developed. Some days I wonder what is on them. Since the digital age and the camera card that goes from one device to another I have become quite a camera fool. As to the special Olympics, this is our first year attending. We never knew it was going on because he was mainstreamed and by the time we found out it was happening or already over. I struggled a bit with the decision but in the end I made a good choice. I was glad they matched the kids up as well as possible and I was also glad he didn't win the 200 meter race, 2nd place was a great way to end the day. The boy who did win matched or beat most of the scores on the regular track events we attend, I hope he is in track where ever he goes to school. It sucks to always loose, so for this day the boy who always finishes last came in first a few times and it was fair. He doesn't have much opportunity to gain self confidence, yesterday he was glowing.
Thank you, I passed along all the congrats, he enjoys the compliments. I am just riding on this young man's coat tails and he is teaching me something every day. Sometimes I enjoy the lessons, sometimes I don't but I learn either way. This summer might be the first one I have looked forward too for a while. I am usually knee deep in a job somewhere and I begin looking for placement ideas while I am gone from the home. This year because I am not up to par, I am not working, so the lad and I are going to rip, tear, and redo as much as possible. I plan on beginning simple cooking lessons, landscaping the yard, and making this house our home, instead of the previous owners. Whatever we get done will be good, but I can't wait till school is over; we are not going to jump out of bed at 6 a.m. we might have pizza for breakfast, and I am pretty sure we are going to get really dirty (much to his dismay). I have had my eyes opened with the CML, and I am going to enjoy my son and this summer to the best of my ability, even if we end up doing nothing at all but hanging out.
They are still shaking their heads at the idea I am trying to move several ton of stone with a wheel barrow and a few shovels. They only threw down the warnings when my platelets were 49,000 and white count was 1.9, since then they have been pretty easy going with restrictions as long as I don't over extend too much. It is going to be another interesting weekend. I just found out I am going to have to do another 9 days of steroids, the facial swelling is not behaving. I was thinking I could probably go out somewhere for dinner on Sunday, instead I will be hitting the high dose again this same day. A picnic is in order I think, away from most humans and around lots of dogs, if not I am not sure I can be responsible for my actions.
For me it was all about immune suppression. When I had to go back on Tacro for GVH, I went from mowing and having a grand old time doing things I hated to the blessed protection of being able to say, "Gosh, I really can't mow the lawn. Let's pay someone to do it." I didn't like the expense. I loved hearing the mower out in the yard...from a distance for a change.
Steroids are immune suppressants but they don't do so on the level of Tacro or cyclosporine. Like I said, if the docs approve it, I've got nothing to say.
Why do ya think I sat on the CML diagnosis for a bit; it's funny, until last October although people thought I was an open person, they usually had little idea on how much I did not share or provide, instead giving small bits of info to leave everyone thinking they knew me well. Since the diagnosis, I have did a complete turn around, I end up sharing a boat load more than I want too, and there is very little hidden for the unknown. I find the concept odd. I am off to bear hunt, determined to add to the photos on here, if not be prepared everyone I am not feeling much like going outside, so that leaves me with cute doggie critters doing cuter actions, so it's either I get bear photos or we are going to have another puppy photo shoot day.
Thanks, appreciate the concern. I respect nature and wild life, but admit to adding humor to my posts, is how I face most things in life good, bad, and ugly. Bears do maim and kill, not because they are always on attack, but usually startled or threatened, or protecting their cubs. I want photos, and better than the ones I took that first night. I have promised my husband (he knows what an idiot I can be) the furthest I will venture out of the house is extending my arm through the sliding door for a close shot with zoom enabled on the camera. I have a board in the patio door that allows it to only open about 4 inches so although I pretend to be adventurous, I am pretty boring. (well except for when people hit my car or leave animals locked in theirs)
I just know that I wouldn't go out in the back woods around here without something. When I got my bear repellent confiscated at DIA and got to spend some time in the TSA office, a local cop came by and said he wouldn't be caught around my house without his gun.
I couldn't tell if he was impressed that I was so brave or awed that I was so stupid but there was some kind of respect there. (Truth is I guess I was kind of stupid..but now only have an air horn.)
Anyway, the story probably sounds more intriguing than it is. I forgot I had the repellent in my camera bag. They kept telling me I had a propellant container of some kind in the bag and I kept telling them they were nuts. Finally they opened it and I damned near dropped a brick. Kind of embarrassing.
Now, if you want an interesting TSA check story, ask me about the time I flew with Barry Switzer. That was funny.
Oh, it was just funny. It was a few months after he got caught with a gun in his carry on at DFW.
Anyway, we were flying out of a small airport in Oklahoma on a short lived regional airline that serviced the more off the map towns. This airport didn't have any kind of screening system so they had to go through your carry on by hand.
So, they finish rifling through Switzer's bag and clear him to go on through and he said something like, "Whew! Made it!" We all broke up laughing. It was just the callback to his other, more exciting airport adventure.
I always had thought he was kind of a dick. I mean, he coached OU and, even though he coached my Boyz, he was questionable. I'd been in OKC through the nonsense that led to his termination at OU and really didn't care for him.
However, we sat across from each other and, though we didn't speak much, anyone who could spend as much time as he did entertaining someone else's kids can't be all dick. I actually wound up liking him.
5 years ago my husband and I spent 8 days in Florida, (this was before the cost of boarding 6 dogs and he turning into a hermit). We flew from Pittsburgh to Miami and did the scenic route throughout the Keys. We had a blast, we tented, but were hardly there, one morning he swears he saw a shark but I still think he has his Fin hat on after we visited Margaritaville and it was his reflection in the water. I was still recovering from the previous night on Duvall. On our return trip we reluctanlty drove back to Miami for an early flight out the next morning, it was 85 there, 6 inches of new snow in PA. We were at the airport camping items checked and ready to go through metal detector, he had the same keys in his pocket on the way down. I walked through just fine, he walked through to bells and whistles, his key chain was a pocket knife, next think I know he was up against the counter and the people holding him there were looking none too friendly. We had 1/2 hour before boarding, I stood a bit away, pretending not to know him but watching to see if they were going to spirit him away. Last boarding call was heard, he would not release the key chain, present from his father, given to him by his father, so two flights later they allowed him to box up the key chain ship it in cargo and TSA escorted him with the sealed box in Pittsburgh out to the truck, I waited 3 hours for him to show up, wondering if he was going too.
I on the other hand many years before just turned into an unthinking idiot. I drove to Cleveland to pick up my son, he was coming in from Arizona from a visit with his father. This was pre 9/11 but guns were frowned upon even then. I had a huge bag I kept for anything/everything my son or I might need but forgot to take out my pistol. I have several but this one is called a 22 long rifle because of the shell it uses, but the name is amusing because it is about 4 inches in length. I carry it everywhere, not great for a long shot but would get attention close range. I walked through the airport to the arrival gate, the plane was late I cleaned out my bag, had everything on the chair beside me never thinking of that pistol laying in a small form fitting pouch, no secret to what it was. I organized my items, the plane came and my son and I headed to the truck. I was almost out in the parking lot when a man walked up beside me and said, 'I have seen some ballsy moves in my life but either you are the stupidest woman on the planet or you are the bravest, I can't figure out which. I had no idea what he was talking about. Somehow he must have read the confusion on my face, he said, 'Do you realize you not only carried a pistol in an airport, you laid it out for over a half hour for everyone to see?' I had no idea, none, never ever dawned on me. Luck, pure luck I was not thrown in jail and the key (or me) tossed in Lake Erie.
I've had three separate TSA incidents myself (all post-9/11). Once I was carrying my computer bag with the little repair kit I kept with it. There were little pokey things that worried the guard. They wouldn't let me through with it. They offered to have it mailed home for something like $7.95. That's about what the kit cost so I let them toss it.
The second time I was not in the mood. I chose not to take my shoes off and had to get patted down. The TSA agent in charge was a real asshole. She had to prove her authority. The guy that did the pat down was nice, respectful and wasn't really a problem, except he had his hand running inside my pants. I wasn't happy.
Then there was the time I carried on the bear repellent. If I'd remembered how much it cost I would have asked if they'd mail it back to my house (I'm sure they wouldn't have been able to).
Ever since they installed the scanners I've decided enough is enough. I won't fly except when time is a crucial factor. I'll take the train or drive from here on out. I'm hoping a number of others will have a like mind and that it will affect air travel even more forcing the government to relax this nonsense.
To my knowledge, Barry Switzer is the most terrible offender they've ever caught at the security screening. But this is supposed to be the land of the free and home of the brave. I'm not playing that idiot game.
I don't know what you plan to do with the .22 but I trust you're remembering to take it out of your bag before flying these days?
The guy that did the pat down was nice, respectful and wasn't really a problem, except he had his hand running inside my pants. I wasn't happy.
I hope you meant that he ran his pants on the inseam and not actually inside your pants. Otherwise, he owes you dinner.
I wish I'd meant that. He had his jeans under the belt and button. Didn't get so far down as the zipper area so he kept it clean. Nobody was buying anybody dinner after that little fracas. It ended up getting the police involved (in a very, very minor way). I'm surprised I was allowed to board and that I'm not on a watch list, actually.
I do not like the restrictions we have to fly. Just another place where we are not factually assumed innocent but, rather, have to establish our innocence first. The whole Bush administration response to 9/11 was so unconstitutional and downright un-American. One of the things I haven't been pleased with about our current president is the number of holdovers from Bush's overreaction he's kept around, and I'm not talking about Bill Gates. I think he's one of the few truly rational people in DC.
You guys are soooo funny I regularly fly with my knitting and crochet needles, the double pointed ones to make socks......haven't been stopped yet! Thanks for making me smile today----its been a rough day for the entire family (not related to any illness---but related to heat, and guys trying to take the tires off of a hay rack that had the tires on it for the last 20 years--so of course they were rusted on, and even the impact wrench could not get them off,---eventually everything worked out, but not without a lot of tears, cuss words, and frustration on everyone's part).
There are days that cuss word and tears are the only way I get through. As for flying, perhaps we all look like hooligans, so we are treated as such.
Technically, our appearance isn't supposed to have anything to do with it. Of course, any young black man in an urban area can, apparently, testify that it really does.
This started as such a nice thread. Why do I find myself wanting to spit nails now?