This Week Out West

We were taking a walk tonight since evening services got moved from 6:00 to 2:00 this afternoon and we had some extra time. The weather had finally cooled off to a liveable temperature so we thought we had better enjoy it while it lasts.

We had the double stroller along and Annica had changed her mind at least three times. First she wants to walk, then she wants to ride. A couple minutes later she wants to walk again and so on.

In order to help her keep the pace up, Michelle started playing a game. Michelle would run ahead and Annica would try to catch her. We would all stop when we came to an intersection, but right after we crossed the road Michelle would take off with Annica after her.

I saw it all happen right in front of me. I sort of knew what was coming but at the same time Annica had been in some tight spots before and come through unscathed. I guess her number was up.

Michelle was trotting down the sidewalk with her head turned back watching Annica chase after her when Annica lunged, caught the bottom of Michelle’s shirt for a split second, and went down. She landed somewhere around her waist but had enough forward momentum to rock her body all the way to her head–her face sliding ever so slightly on the pavement.

Michelle and Annica both let out a little scream. After the screams there was the short period of silence right before the wailing started.

Michelle carried Annica the few short blocks home trying not to get blood on her shoulder or on Annica’s clothes. There weren’t any gushers but the carnage was enough to keep Mom and daughter playing roles of nurse and patient for an hour or so before it was time to go to bed.

Pushing the limit eventually catches up with everyone who dares. Tonight, it was Annica’s turn. Something tells me it won’t be her last.

One of the stipulations of the health-care plan provided by my work is that Michelle and I need to have yearly physicals. The goal is to have everyone get it done by September, so Michelle and I had ours scheduled for this past week thinking we could just get it done with.

The doctor’s visit was a piece of cake. It seemed more like a round of Dutch bingo with the nurse and the doctor than a vigorous testing of our physical state. We were unaware, however, that some of the measurements required–in this case I believe it was cholesterol–would require the drawing of blood. We had both failed to fast for the required hours before the examination, so we were told to come in the next morning. No big deal.

The next morning we gave our info to the nurse and waited a few minutes in the waiting room before being escorted to the phlebotomist’s room. It was a small room with a desk-high counter running along one side, a sink and counter on the other, and a large chair setting against the wall barely three feet past the open door.

Michelle went first.

After the vile was taken she switched from the “hot seat” against the wall into the computer chair nearby not wanting to repeat the episode she had had the last time she needed blood work done.

Immediately after my blood was drawn, I actually felt fine. There was nothing amiss as the young lady collected my blood save for the fact that it seemed to flow a little slowly in my opinion. I stayed sitting for a bit just in case and Michelle started talking about what happened to her the last time and how she had gotten sick to her stomach…….

And that was about all I remember before the dream started. I remember it feeling like I was a teenager sleeping in on a Saturday morning. It felt like I was stealing minutes back from my day but there was something way back in my mind trying to disrupt my sleep. It sounded like ladies arguing and I wanted it to go away.

When I came to I was surrounded by nurses–two of them–and a phlebotmist. One of them was holding a trash can in front of me. I wanted to go back to sleep but they kept talking and I pretty much knew my day was heading more toward the land of the up and at’em than the land of silent slumber.

Michelle looked a little shook up. She said my eyes rolled back in my head, my tongue starting hanging out, and that I was convulsing a bit. I kinda have a hard time believing that because the sleep felt so good and I can hardly believe that all that moving around would be very restful.

The nurses got me back in line by turning the fan on, giving me a cold cloth for my forehead, and a cookie. I went to work with a dull headache that seemed to ebb and flow for the rest of the day.

I guess I know now something I had always suspected. Every time I’d been given the opportunity to give blood I could never quite pull the trigger. When we were living in Michigan and I could have made some money off of my plasma, I still couldn’t drag myself in. I’m sure my sister Lacey, a phlebotomist herself, will read this and laugh. That’s okay. I know I’m not the only one who gets a little woozy.

I remember when I was a teenager and I was visiting places far from home, quite often people would ask me what it was we did for fun. “What is there to do out in Iowa?” they would ask. Most of the time I didn’t have much to say to the question. Either nothing would come to mind or I would have a hard time explaining the activities that did come to mind.

The past weekend I got a better idea as to what I should have told people back then, although I’m still not sure they would understand. I grew up in a farming community. There weren’t any professional sports teams or large venues for other activities within reasonable driving distance. Quite often for fun we went “cruising” in whatever town seemed to be the place to go. If you didn’t grow up around here, it was hard to see how just driving around could be fun. Watching the burnout contest on main street in Doon brought back the taste of what would would go on during these “cruising” nights. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then a video has to be worth at least a million. Let me show you the first participant Friday night–he basically set the tone for what was to come.

As an example, this is a bit over the top compared to what actually happened every weekend cruising, but, it was what we would have wanted to do if we could have gotten away with it. Not everyone had a hot rod to tool around the main drag in, but, more often than not there were rides to be had if you thought your ride wasn’t worthy. Others would just drive around in whatever they had.

If you didn’t feel like wasting the gas, you could park yourself along side of the road and let your opinions be known to those driving by. Most of the time the back and forth was all in good fun. Such an exchange could also be seen at the contest Friday night, much to the chagrin of the young man who was over-confident of his old Ford pickup.

The joke was at his expense, but, at least he was able to drive away.

One of the songs that plays in our vehicle on long trips has a chorus that goes, “Busy, busy, dreadfully busy, you’ve no idea what I have to do.” That’s kind of what this part of the summer feels like around our house. This busyness tends to sap the “art” out of my writing, so, for the sake of keeping up a good habit, this week’s post will be mostly informational. I know, I’m disappointed too.

Many of you know that Nathaniel and Valerie are now blissfully wed. We wish them the best and hope that they return safely from their honeymoon this week. I’m sure they will hit the ground running since there seems to be plenty to do, and it’s just the way they roll anyway.

All our 4th of July festivities centered around the wedding, so I’m afraid there will be a lack of colorful bursting firework stories–sorry Melissa. Maybe next year. The best I can do is tell you that the bride and groom left in a huge semi-trailer tow-truck that I convinced my brother-in-law to write ‘just hitch’d’ in the back window of. It was too good to pass up.

Our trip home from Pella went well. When we pulled in to Sioux Center to grab a few groceries before the final push home we met a few friends from Michigan at the gas station. They were heading home the next day so we ended up going home and then immediately leaving again to visit. We didn’t start unpacking until 10:30 when we arrived home the second time.

This week the girls got sick. On Friday Michelle took them in and found out that Annica has bronchitis and Skyler has another ear infection (and maybe a touch of bronchitis as well.) We took turns staying home from church with them. Hopefully the medication kicks in and they start to feel well again this week.

Michelle and I just ran through our schedule for the next two weeks and I think I have a total of two nights that aren’t spoken for yet. Looks like it’s gonna be busy for a while.

I knew we were in for a treat the minute I stepped outside after supper. I had noticed the sky changing colors through the window while we were eating, and my first move after closing was to check it out. A huge wall of cumulo mammatus clouds loomed overhead. (I’ve heard these clouds called ‘udder’ clouds for the resemblance they have to cow udder’s. Duane said they looked like cotton balls in the sky.) All signs pointed to a knock down storm.

The scene was set this past Saturday night as we entertained the Duane and Lori Hinken family. (Duane is Mom Wories’ brother.) Dinner for the night was our specialty “Iowa” cut pork chops. It turns out they got to experience another Iowa specialty–the mid-summer thunderstorm.

Looking back it wasn’t really a surprise. The day had been oppressively hot, and the humidity teetered on the point where the air would just turn to water. Saturday was the type of day that air-conditioners were created for.

A little while after supper was over and the table was cleared, we heard the first signs off in the distance. Short quick flashes made the northwest sky look like a disco ball as the lightning bolts jumped from cloud to cloud. The rumbling thunder gave the beat. The sky was overcast and it started to have a green glow.

I mentioned to Duane that he might consider staying an extra 30-45 minutes since these types of storms usually blow themselves out in a hurry to move on, but they instead opted to head out before the storm was in full force–they wanted to make it at least to Sioux Falls on their way to the Black Hills.

Shortly after they left the first rain drops hit the sidewalk. Annica and the girls went back inside so that they wouldn’t get wet.

There is a strange moment in the passing of a thunderstorm where the temperature swirls from oppressively hot to shiveringly chilly. If it is a really good thunderstorm you’ll feel the wind change directions as well. That is the stuff tornadoes are made of.

In a matter of minutes rain was falling from the sky as if it were being poured from buckets. The wind picked up knocking down limbs and spreading debris all over town. Reports of more tornadic activity were coming from just east of here. It was probably still building up as it went over.

I was watching the storm from our front-room windows as Michelle kept inquiring whether or not we should go in the basement. I think we came from families that have two drastically different attitudes toward inclement weather. My dad always brags that in Doon when the storm whistle blows people come outside to watch the show. I’m not sure Michelle has ever seen a good thunderstorm having been sequestered to the basement at the first sign of clouds.

At one point she brought some cookies and water downstairs–planning for some situation I have yet to fathom.

I suppose the whole thing blew over in an hour or two. You can still see signs of the storm today only because it’s Sunday and people around here still question whether or not clearing branches qualify as “oxen in the well.” By Wednesday everything will be back to normal again.

I guess the Hinkens have now had their introduction to Iowa. While I’m sure they loved the food, I’m not so sure how welcoming the weather was. At least now they probably understand why it’s always something to talk about.

Tonight I will fly from Omaha to Chicago. I state that sentence hoping that the declarative nature of such a statement might make it come true.

While the weather here in Omaha is a perfect sunny 82 degrees, apparently there are thunderstorms surrounding Chicago making air travel impossible. My flight was suppose to depart at 6:40. Two hours later I’m not any closer to my destination.

I fill my time reading of bank failures and watching people drink $6.00 beers and make stupid jokes. While not what I had originally planned for this evening, it is somewhat entertaining. But, like everything else associated with delays, it will probably get old in a hurry.

So, I decided to take this opportunity and put a few words in front of others and let you all know whats going on with our family.

Michelle and the girls have been away from home for almost two full weeks now. They spent some time in Iowa visiting Valerie and made their way to Mom and Dad Wories’ house in south Chicago last weekend.

Tomorrow Ryan and Paige are getting married. I wish them the best. I have no doubt that they will do well and probably have fun in the process. For some, the first year of marriage can be quite and adjustment, but, I have a feeling that these two have had enough little quarrels over the pass few years to smooth out the bumps. Remember, fights are inevitable and unimportant, its the reconciliation that counts.

No one knows what kind of mishaps or antics might take place tomorrow–kids and ‘buddies’ have a habit of stealing the show in one way or another–but the end result will be a brand new marriage and either the relief or explosion of some nerves for a few select females which will remain nameless.

As a dad in his late-twenties I’m sure I’ll be on ‘child-rearing’ duty. Which will be good–I miss the girls.

I suppose I better go, I think they are going to make an announcement.

Maybe I will make it to Chicago tonight.

……Maybe not.

Update 10:37 p.m. — Hmmmm. Boarding. Finally.

Michelle, Annica and Skyler are spending this week at Valerie’s apartment in Oskaloosa, Iowa accompanied by Mom Wories. It sounds like its a full house over there and I wish them all the best and the best sleep that they can get.

Next week Michelle, the girls, and Mom Wories will move on to Chicago to prepare for Ryan and Paige’s wedding on the 19th. I’ll be flying out to join them on the 18th and driving home the following Monday.

That leaves me with an empty house and some time on my hands.

My new job has placed me back in Sioux Center in close proximity to the pool I like to swim laps in. My plan is to go early in the morning at least a couple times a week before work. So far I’ve gone twice and I can feel it in my muscles already.

I admit I’m not the the most nimble creature in the water. Truth be told, I probably look more like a manatee who dreams of being a dolphin. My hope is that the exercise will drop me from my sea-cow status to something a little more athletic. Maybe a seal–I don’t think that’s too far of a stretch–is it?

On Friday night I went to the pool after work. I was a little disappointed to find the rope laid out across the middle of the pool crossing all the lanes. I wasn’t too surprised, however, since I was the only one who showed up to swim laps. The rest of the patrons were messing around the basketball hoop on the other end of the pool. I made my way back and forth swimming under the rope when it came to that point.

After a few laps I took a breather in the shallow end of the pool. My goggles were foggy due to the exertion and I didn’t notice the lifeguard change the rope until she walked right in front of me. I came to the realization that I now had an entire half of the pool all to myself in open-lane glory. I also realized that even though I felt tired, it would probably be a slight to the well meaning lifeguard if I jumped out of the pool and headed to the showers.

I swam for as long as I could. There is a certain rhythm to swimming that I find peaceful. The earplugs block out all noise. Under water all I hear is the strain of my muscles and the air escaping my lungs. When I rise above the water there is a low rumble from the water slides one pool over. The sound goes back and forth like a pendulum. Tick-breath out, tock-breath in. Tick, tock. Tic – toc.

Tomorrow morning I do it again.

I apologize to all my readers for not keeping up these last few weeks. I have some excuses that I’ll get to in a minute. But, really I just let it slip. I promise to try harder in the future. I promise. Really.

Anyway.

Let me report that my days working for AOP/ODYSSEYWARE have come to a close. The reasons are many and varied but I am not going to get into specifics.

I have, however, secured new employment by a different local company, Interstates (www.interstates.com). I start this Tuesday as an IT support specialist –more commonly called “one of those computer guys.”

As you can imagine, things have been kind of a roller coaster ride around here waiting for phone calls and all the next steps that getting a different job takes. In the end, everything has worked out well and we are all looking forward to this new opportunity.

In many ways this position is a step up from where I was. The work will be different, however, since my focus will shift from only working on websites to supporting all the different aspects of office computing. I won’t get into all the technical details, but I’ve basically learned that when it comes to computers, I’m more of a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy and this new position will allow me to work on broader issues and technologies.

With this issue settled I hope to get back in the swing of things and get back to writing about the important things–Michelle, Annica, and Skyler.

Have a great week. I know I will.

I was feeling a little under the weather yesterday and instead of writing my weekly post, I fell asleep in the rocking chair while holding Skyler. I hope you all have a great week and I’ll try to post something soon.

To a child there are few things more magical than balloons filled with helium.

I remember thinking up complicated schemes when I was a boy that involved objects suspended in air by helium balloons dropping some payload–picture toy army soldiers dropping plastic rockets–on some unsuspecting force such as an opposing plastic army or perhaps an unsuspecting sibling. They were even useful when they started losing altitude–you could inhale the helium and make your voice sound funny.

Today Grandma VB gave Annica three helium balloons. They were a gift from her boss for Secretary’s Day (or something like that), and she thought Annica would love to have them. She was right.

Annica played with them all afternoon at Grandma’s house. It was great for Annica, but not so great for the rest of us since all the balloons had strings that were too short for Annica to reach after they had floated up to the ceiling.

When it was time to go to great-grandpa VB’s house, Michelle helped her carefully put her balloons in the the car so they didn’t fly away. She left two in the car and attached the third to her arm so she could play with it at great-grandpa’s house.

When it was time to leave I followed Annica to the car door to help her get in her car seat. I opened the door and before I knew it, the two balloons had escaped and were floating at breakneck speeds toward the ozone layer. Annica was distraught.

Fueled by an un-napped disposition, she wailed the whole ride home crying for “the other balloons” as she held on tight to the sole survivor.

A little while later I was reading a book while she was having a snack at her little picnic table, and she asked me in all seriousness how we were going to get the other balloons back. I tried to explain to her the words, ‘can’t, and ‘never’ but they didn’t really compute. She finished the conversation, more to herself than to me, that ‘sometime later’ she would ‘snatch them out of the sky’ and ‘save them.’

Always the optimist. I wonder where she gets that from?