So where have you been?
OK-OK, an update on the SMLaker. Have you ever done something that your dear old dad told you some 70 years ago not to EVER do? Dad’s advice was baked into my mind so hard that I heard his voice and it was as clear as the day he told me. “NEVER STICK YOUR ARM OUT OF A MOVING VEHICLE.” But on Fathers Day I forgot. While docking the boat on a beautiful day, a gust of wind hit us unexpectedly and I tried to push off but my arm acted as a bumper, and a very poor one at that.
38 stitches later I returned home from ER with a realization that I had to explain to all who asked, “What happened to your bandaged arm” or “we heard you had a accident?” At first I blamed it on a freshwater shark bite, but then I had to admit the truth. I call it a stupid mistake by a slow-thinking senior. Truth is best after all. Now that the arm is clear of all stitches and bandages, I have to explain the 4” down and 2.5” across the arm scar. Will it never end?
The medication I have been on for almost a month has taken the little ambition I once had away. Two days left on it and I can go out into the sunshine again. The doctors’ appointment tomorrow will determine the next step. I find that recovering from stupidity is time consuming. The brain doesn’t work as well. You read something and forget before you get to the next page. Typing is a problem and trying to put down a thought on paper is a challenge. chal·lenge (ch²l“…nj) n. 1.a. A call to engage in a contest, fight, or competition. b. An act or statement of defiance; a call to confrontation. 2. A demand for explanation or justification; a calling into question. 3. A sentry's call to an unknown party for proper identification. 4. A test of one's abilities or resources in a demanding but stimulating undertaking.
AMEN
I did have a son-in-law suggest that I get a tattoo to make it look like a local mountain-The Peaks of Otter. He tried? Humm-it does look like the Peaks. With just a lot of little green trees along the scar to outline (hide) and a bunch more to fill in-between and I’d have The Peaks of Otter on my arm. There is even enough room to put in the Blue Ridge Parkway. And I wouldn’t have to explain STUPID ever again.
38 stitches later I returned home from ER with a realization that I had to explain to all who asked, “What happened to your bandaged arm” or “we heard you had a accident?” At first I blamed it on a freshwater shark bite, but then I had to admit the truth. I call it a stupid mistake by a slow-thinking senior. Truth is best after all. Now that the arm is clear of all stitches and bandages, I have to explain the 4” down and 2.5” across the arm scar. Will it never end?
The medication I have been on for almost a month has taken the little ambition I once had away. Two days left on it and I can go out into the sunshine again. The doctors’ appointment tomorrow will determine the next step. I find that recovering from stupidity is time consuming. The brain doesn’t work as well. You read something and forget before you get to the next page. Typing is a problem and trying to put down a thought on paper is a challenge. chal·lenge (ch²l“…nj) n. 1.a. A call to engage in a contest, fight, or competition. b. An act or statement of defiance; a call to confrontation. 2. A demand for explanation or justification; a calling into question. 3. A sentry's call to an unknown party for proper identification. 4. A test of one's abilities or resources in a demanding but stimulating undertaking.
AMEN
I did have a son-in-law suggest that I get a tattoo to make it look like a local mountain-The Peaks of Otter. He tried? Humm-it does look like the Peaks. With just a lot of little green trees along the scar to outline (hide) and a bunch more to fill in-between and I’d have The Peaks of Otter on my arm. There is even enough room to put in the Blue Ridge Parkway. And I wouldn’t have to explain STUPID ever again.
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