Fur

Skills day at work. More like Emergency Preparedness really. Five hours, and I learned two useful things. Turn my home fire extinguisher over a couple of times a year, so the solid ingredients don't settle too much. When assessing a trauma patient, push in on the pelvis, if that hurts, don't push down on the pelvis.

Admittedly, not much. But I have been doing this for a long while. Managed to avoid the most irritating man in the world for his session of the round robin stations, through personal stealth. The second most irritating I was stuck with. Still, significantly more organized than lass year's mess. Plenty of OR people to chat with as we endeavored to stay awake. Swiped a bunch of baby bel cheeses, drank tea from my insulated yard-sale mug, sat. Mostly harmless. Home by 1300.

It's been a hard week for the OR, only a hard day for me. Nothing like a ten hour shift with only a couple of ten minute breaks, eight cases, cleaned up three rooms. Yeah, yesterday hurt. It hurt all of us. At least I went in relaxed, if not exactly rested. I was told it had been three days in a row just like that. All five rooms running, no help, no staff to cover lunches. I really took the right week to go AWOL. (That is, with leave, not without.) Next week looks much the same. Oooo, boy, can't hardly wait.

So much for a vacation.

Clearing the house of as much dust and cat-fur as possible. SIL, coming over to make a salad for the Father's Day BBQ at the PIL's house, is allergic, although not too badly. Still, it needs doing, and whatever I can do to reduce triggers is my responsibility. Vacuuming, dry and damp mopping, keeping nosey, friendly little Eleanor in the back room while SIL is here, all part of being a good host, a decent human being. And, we like them, so there is that.

Had to return a couple of shopping carts left on our verge to the market a block away. Tiresome, but such is life. If we leave them out there, they will multiply. As I'm shoving the two along a young, very stylish woman came out of the mini-mart at the corner as I rumble toward her. I'm not exactly being quiet. As I get closer, she is now staring at me, but not moving, I shout "I CAN'T STEER!" She slowly, with great reluctance, moves just enough off the sidewalk for me to pass. Idiot. Entitled little idiot, lacking a great number of self-preservation skills. I was an idiot at that age, too, but I really don't think I was ever quite that oblivious. Maybe I was, I don't remember.

This all sounds a bit irritated, and I'm actually pleased and serene. Like this,



Another yard sale find.

I look around, and say, "Oh, this place is beautiful." And it is. And I'm grateful. Overwhelmed with affection and joy. Oh, home. Oh, happy guy, and happy cats and happy me.

The kitchen will have to be clean tomorrow, but it can wait a few hours yet.