Well, I was ready for something like that. But what Scrappy and I found was something like this:
Much colder, much windier. Every footprint you see was solid ice. There were ice sheets everywhere melt water runs off, and I expended a lot of energy staying upright when Scrappy wanted to take every rough spot at 40 MPH. I was half froze when I decided to cut the journey short, and going home finished it out. By then Scrappy was in "let me sniff every possible pee-spot thoroughly" mode, and refused to pick up the pace. I then compounded the problem by lazily leaving cold wet shoes on whilst I sat at the computer and caught up with the world. So I took two Ny-Quil gels and went to bed. Those had not worn off by the time I got to work, and thankfully none of the previous days disasters happened that day- I only had to deal with not being able to breathe and the interminal length that stretched the day out to.
Speaking of work, that sets up a couple of stories of the inexplicable. Number one happened Thursday morning. When I cut a pattern, I have to scan the job number, then the fabric number, then hit "print documents". That causes (normally) the following: a) an adhesive box label to print on the box label printer; b) one or more sew-in labels to print on the tyvek printer; c) the pattern to be cut to kick over to the other computer that runs the machine; and d) a paper called the production receipt to print on the Canon printer. So, about 8:30 I was doing just that on an order, and no production receipt. Hmm, paper's not out, but the light's not blinking. So the first thing I do is this: knowing that some older products have messed-up instructions and won't print the PR, I switched all the prints off except "job paperwork" which is a long way of getting the same thing. Still nothing. Reported to the boss, he asked questions, I gave answers. He finally had me just run an extra box label and mark it use as PR.
A few hours later, another order did the same thing. But that was the end of it, or so I thought. I had no more problems the rest of the day. Yesterday, when I came in, the Job Paperwork from that first order some 22 hours before was sitting in the Canon tray, apparently having printed itself after I left. Nothing on the second order, neither of the PRs, just the JP for the first one. Hmmmm...
So the second story comes last night. Scrappy has two tennis balls that we've found on walks, which he has stripped of their fuzzy skin to reveal orange-and-blue-rubber balls. He likes to get one out and act like a cat in an effort to get me to play. Well last night I was on the floor playing with him. Now those of you who've noted the pictures and videos over the years know that our living area is basically an inverted "L" with a straight shot front to back and the kitchen branching off to the rear left. So, I'm in the living room and toss the ball to the back. It hits a dining chair and tumbles slowly into the kitchen. After a pause to decide whether he wanted to, Scrappy marches tail wagging into the kitchen. Comes out seconds later empty mouthed. I said, "You Boofus, get the ball!" He walks to the kitchen, looks around, enters, comes back out empty again. So I crawl into the kitchen.
Now mind you, the kitchen is a dead end. All the cabinets have floorboards. No doors were open. there are two gaps on either side of the refrigerator, neither really wide enough for a ball to enter without making a real effort, but wide enough to see down. The only objects on the floor are a case of Mountain Dew and a jug of some juice. There is literally no place to hide.
The ball is NOT there. Not in the gaps, not under the doors, not behind the case of pop. Not underneath Scrappy's food and water dishes. IT IS JUST GONE.
We look at each other- and a picture of our faces as we did would have won you a Pulitzer. Laurie came home a half-hour later, and we told her. She looked around- no ball.
Just now, I tried again. I looked under the refrigerator, and thought I saw something way in the back. Time to bring Laurie's grandma's cane into the picture, the one instrument able to reach behind the fridge and hook. I was astonished to find it was indeed the ball.
As you look right there the ball is wedged. It literally had to have hit at just the right angle to make a 90 degree turn, hop up onto the molding, and roll back like a fricking pinball to get back there. I'm willing to bet another billion throws would never hit that spot again.
Finally today, I was looking through some old posts and reminded of some of the wonderfully amusing things my son KC has managed to do in his 25 years on this earth. And it reminded me of a story from Sunday I wanted to tell. You see, he often comes over with his x-box and hooks it up to our spare TV, so while we watch football or what-have-you, he can also play. This past weekend he started out with ice hockey. Now I usually drift back and forth from his game to THE game and pay a smattering of attention to both. So I look over at one point to see his player skating around without a stick. I figure he's heading for the bench when he starts shouting at his "teammates", "Pass me the damn puck! Why won't you pass me the puck?"
I said, "You know you don't have a stick, right?"
"WTF!!??!!" He had been so intent on what the other players were doing, he didn't even know he'd lost his stick. "Where the hell is my stick at?"
"Over there, by the goal..."
Now you might think that's enough dipshittery for anyone in a single day, but KC was not done. He moved on to baseball, where his character is working his way through the minor leagues. He had gotten a single and was on first when a teammate hit a long drive to the outfield fence. His player ran to second, then towards third as the other team's outfielder caught the ball.
NOTE: for you not up on such things, if a ball is caught in the outfield, a runner must tag up (touch the base he was originally on) after the catch. So when the outfielder caught the ball and KC kept running, I said, "What, is there two out?"
"OH, SHIT!!!" KC exclaimed as his runner turned around far too late to avoid being tagged out at first.
Did I laugh? You bet. ""Boy, the stupidest things you could do in two sports, and you did them both in one day!"
|Kids. Every now and again, you remember why you had 'em.|