March 19th, 2014

Wednesday

On Monday, at the 6:30 am swim, it was strikingly deserted.  Today, was the opposite.  All of the regulars were back and they were joined by a crowd of people I'd never seen before.  It was a little too crowded for me but I managed to swim through.  Generally, people who use my lanes - the Easy lanes - only swim for 20-30 minutes so I can outlast them but today they kept coming.

At least in the mornings, we have the best life guards. They stay on top of the flow and encourage people to move to other lanes when that will help. This morning, this new dude kept hitting my feet. I thought at first he was giving me the indication that he was going to pass me but he kept doing it so finally, I just stopped and squeezed to the side so he would get off my ass.  Careen (the lifeguard) stopped him and explained the rules of the road.  She told me that he said he tapped my toe once by mistake.  She said she told him that she was watching and saw him do it for half the pool.  Ha!  Don't fuck with me, Old Guy!  Nice to know I've got peops watching out for me.

And, the bigger the crowds the more critical the pool becomes to the city Parks and Recreation and critical is good. We're so lucky to have such a great pool system.

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My tooth pulling trauma was exactly two weeks ago.  This morning coming home from the pool, I was thinking that it was way time for these stupid stitches to get gone.  When I got home I got my coffee and a pastry for breakfast.  After eating the pastry, my tongue was cleaning out the bits from around my teeth when it got to the stitches and worked them right out!!  Yeah!  There are still a tiny bit of soreness like when a piece of food gets shoved into the gum when chewing but it's way way better.  I'm declaring victory.

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My brother's shop has been very busy so we haven't chatted more than passing quick emails or Google + comments lately.  But, yesterday I was watching and cam and there was my nephew!! Matt, my brother's youngest (now 30 something), lives in Des Moines, IA because that's where his daughter's baby mother moved with her kids.  Matt's daughter is 4 and the apple of his eye - where she goes, he does, too.  Matt's kind of pinballed from thing to thing and from here to there.  He has massive people skills but they have not been backfilled with much substance until the past year or so.  He has now discovered emergency rescue and not only loves it but enough to work hard at it and go back to school to get better.  What a great use of his people skills as well.  I'm not sure what he's doing in Texas but I'm glad he and my brother are getting to spend some time together.

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Today's big project is one of the closets in the bedroom.  It's actually just a series of shelves cute into the wall and covered by a curtain.  It's where my folded clothes live.  Once in a while I have to take them all out and sort them and cull some and refold and replace.  This usually coincides with season changes and I'm a little ahead of myself, but I found myself looking at summer t-shirts in a catalog the other night.  If I reexamine what I have now, maybe I won't be tempted to buy new shit which I clearly do NOT need.

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And I need to investigate why my swimming iPod Shuffle, shuffles the songs when I have it on non-shuffle.  I so hate iTunes and iTunes products. But no one else makes a swimming player that even comes close so I just keep fighting the good fight.

JUST as I expected

I wear knit pants and variations of t-shirts - long sleeved, short sleeved, knit, fleece, different neck shapings - every single day of the year.  I have some special occasion clothes but not many and more than I need.  All of my every day clothes live folded on shelving in one closet in my bedroom.

Today I pulled out every piece.  I culled, I sorted, I refolded and I put back in order and here's where I need the help of anyone reading this with ready access to a gun.  If I buy ONE more single thread in at least the next year, maybe 10, just shoot me.  I mean really.  I do not deserve to live.

I do not want to count the number of knit pants I have.  (I even have one section of 'nice' knit pants and one section of 'cruddy' knit pants.) But I'm pretty sure I could wear a clean pair every day and not have to do laundry for a month.

The shirt situation is about as bad but at least there is variety.

When I die, my brother and sister in law will take over this house. I can imagine the conversation when they pull back the curtain in this closet.  It ain't going to be pretty. But it is likely to be pretty hilarious.