Happy Snow Day in Seattle!

9 February 2014; Cozy and warm inside Grumpy's Castle --

Well, Grumpy started out this month in a "grumpy" mood: I didn't feel "too awfully well". I spent all day the 5th in bed trying to overcome what I thought was "just a 24-hour bug". The next morning, I felt better -- for awhile, but then returned to bed to try to warm up enough to stop the shivers and teeth chattering. Finally, about noon I called the consulting nurse and was directed to enter Urgent Care for a check up.

What I had, and what I am now recovering from, is a stubborn case of infection. But that is not what this POST is all about; it only provides some background to what I am doing this morning! I AM SHOVELING SNOW!!

 

First of all, I should tell you about my process of getting up and getting dressed in preparation for going out into the cold. Taking care not to expose myself to the elements again for fear of being besot again with chills and shivering, I thought to put on extra layers of warm clothes. When at last I thought to be ready to venture forth into the cold, I realized

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I needed to go to the bathroom!

Mothers will recall incidents of such nature with their children whom they tried to bundle up suitable for the cold environment. I laughed to myself -- no one else to laugh at me!

A Belated Update to the Misadventures of Grumpy

Beginning October 4th, 2012; In Brazil --

I departed Seattle 20 days ago. What has kept me from keeping my BLOG up-to-date in all this time? I will tell you --  but not show you -- in this sad tale today.

I arrived with Uncle Bob in Ribeirao Preto on the 5th, after an overnight flight from Chicago to Sao Paulo, then on another flight, to Ribeirao Preto. It was late in the day (four hours later, Brazil time!) and, after greeting Adelaide, we went straight to bed.

A couple days later, we took the Intercity bus down to Sao Carlos to check out the tennis club/school. While there, Uncle Bob and I decided to "escort" a couple 10-11 year-olds into the adjoining jungle. Deep into the jungle is a lively stream following a channel about 8 or ten feet wide and about 4 or 5 feet deep. And occasional log or twisted tree trunk affords one a reasonably easy way to cross to the other side. [Don't ask me why it always seems "necessary" to cross! It just is!]

Several years ago, on a similar "safari" with some teenage and sub-teenage girls from the tennis school, Grumpy had demonstrated the quick and proper way to cross a stream in the jungle: Grab a vine and swing across! At that time, Grumpy weighed 15 or 20 pounds more than he does today,  but had no problem negotiating the stream two or three times by the "vine transit".

This time, however, the vine that Grumpy chose had a kink in it that weakened its tensile strength! Grumpy tested the vine, confirming its secure grasp onto a tall tree 100 feet or so above the ground. The far bank of the stream was a good 15 feet away, as Grumpy leaped forward to propel himself across this chasm. As my body, with legs outstretched in front of me for the anticipated landing on the other side, approached the nadir of my swing (maximum stress now being applied to the vine), the vine broke -- at the kink -- and Grumpy plopped 6-8 feet down onto his rump, into the stream! The impact of my tailbone on the firm surface of the stream bottom was apparently sufficient to fracture my #1 lumbar vertebrae. But worse than that were the muscle spasms that occurred whenever the nerves that signal a fracture were triggered! To ease the spams and inflammation (for some time I thought it was only a sprained back), I started with Aspirin every 3-4 hours (two 325mg that I had brought along; later with 600mg Ibuprofen).

On the 9th (a day or two after this incident) we left to go fishing in the northern part of Mato Grasso state. This was a primary reason for this trip to Brazil, and I wasn't about to let a little pain [well, it was more than just "a little"!] get in the way. More on the fishing trip in another Post.

We returned from the fishing trip on the 16th; Grumpy was now taking either a 600mg Ibuprofen or a 500mg Aspirin each 3 to 4 hours to deaden the pain. On the 18th Uncle Bob wanted to go to Sao Carlos; I told him I would rather go see a Doctor about my back -- I was now suspecting something more serious than a back sprain.

Uncle Bob made an appointment for that very morning to get an Xray and diagnosis in Sao Carlos. The Xray [of which I have the film] showed what the Radiologist said was a "Fratura Antiga?" [that's Portuguese for "Antique Fracture, maybe"]. I was greatly encouraged by this diagnosis in that, since I could recall no time in my life previously when I had injured my back, I interpreted this as indication that I had a fracture which was in the process of healing! And so I have continued a regimen in which I refrain from any kind of actions or contortions that may damage the healing break.

Grumpy has determined to examine the vines more critically next time!

A Tale of an Old Man -- and Two Young Chicks

In Early August 2012; At Grumpy's Castle --

It might be expected that, after losing one's partner, companion and wife of over 63 years, that an Old Man would seek company to share his lonely life. But what Grumpy undertook may be considered by some to be beyond the pale [Irrevocably unacceptable or unreasonable: e.g., behavior that was quite beyond the pale.]: Two (2) young chicks!!

Cheep (front) and Cheeper (rear)

Now lest any of you females in the Z-clan begin to get any of the wrong idea(s), let me see if this photograph of these two young charmers can clear things up a bit.

As a pair, these two [whom I have, for obvious reasons, named "Cheep" and "Cheeper"] have been perfect companions -- for each other. I could leave them outside in the front yard and go back every fifteen or twenty minutes, and find them partially-hidden back under the plants next to the house. When I called them [by "clucking" like a mother hen] they would "cheep" back to me and move a little bit so I could detect them by their motion. If I kept "clucking", they would come to me and would allow me to pick them up to take them into the house and put them in their box [for the night, or to take with me in the car].

When I was invited to go up to Granite Falls Friday afternoon to enjoy a family "Camp-out" with Grandchildren and Great Grandchildren, I took Cheep and Cheeper with me. They were perfectly happy when released from their box and left to roam free; after all, the Red Rocket was there, a familiar sight, under which for them to hide and to find shade during the heat of the day. When night fell, I simply called them to me, placed them back in their box and placed it in the car.

Poor little Cheep [Andalusian] the day before she disappeared.

On Sunday, when I went to visit Demetria and not wanting to leave them in the car in the shadeless parking lot, I thought to leave them in my front yard where everything was familiar and where they had been happy before -- as a pair. Sadly when I returned, only Cheeper's plaintive cry could be heard in response to my call; Cheep was nowhere to be found -- not a sound or even a sign. I agonized over what could have happened -- and still do not know for sure.

Cheeper -- My friend for life!

Subsequent to the disappearance of Cheep, her buddy Cheeper has become inconsolably attached to me. She even prefers my company to eating and drinking. And I have become more attached to her, and more protective of her than I ever thought possible. She still has to stay in her box -- alone -- at night so we can both get some sleep. But I go out in the front yard occasionally to stand next to her so she will eat and drink water. Otherwise she either roosts on the ledge of the storm-screen door, or she flies up to roost on top of the tool shed or on the utility trailer. [When she starts roosting on top of the Rocket, I will have to find another solution!]

Oh, What Trouble a Senile -- er, Senior Citizen Wroughteth!

Grumpy's Castle; Last Days of October 2010 --

As some of the more knowledgeable members of the Clan are already aware, the Grumpy One really got himself in deep "doo-doo" with his desk-top computer this past couple of weeks. It all started with the irresistible temptation to Upgrade his desktop to Windows 7 operating system. Let me start at the beginning of the process.

First, after carefully reading the instructions (ha! ha! you all thought I would skip them, didn't you!?), and purchasing and installing a brand new half-Terabyte SATA hard-drive, Grumpy gently placed the legal MS CD in the DVD drive and pushed "GO", intending that the upgrade would be installed on the new drive.

Somewhere, I apparently missed the clue that the upgrade was being installed on the same drive as the EOM Windows XP operating system. The first time this was noticed was when I rebooted the computer, expecting to start enjoying the exciting, new Windows 7 operating system. To my surprise, I was greeted with a choice of two operating systems. Fine; either one worked just great at this point.

Next, I proceeded to MOVE (not COPY!) several of my most prized folders of data from the IDE drive to the SATA drive. At some point, not being content with my new OS installed on the same IDE drive as my XP OS, I then decided to reinstall the Windows 7 operating system onto the SATA drive. [At this point, Grumpy neglected to heed the warning label on the Windows 7 upgrade package about SAVEing all your data on a different drive before installing Windows 7. Alas, when all was said and one, my most prized folders were no where to be seen!!

What is even worse, suddenly Grumpy found that he couldn't even access the IDE drive!! An UNERASE program was downloaded (onto the SATA drive), but not being able to "see" the IDE drive rendered the unerase program useless. After much council with Number One Son, gnashing of teeth and sweating  blood over Grumpy's carelessness, the #1 Son suggested a data recovery outfit who might be able to salvage Grumpy's self-made disaster.

After a detailed communication with the data recovery person via telephone, Grumpy shipped off his deaf, blind and dumb hard-drive to this outfit for their diagnosis, investigation of what (if any) data was recoverable, and an estimate as to how much said recovery would cost. I await their e-mail some time this week.

Stay tuned for follow-on -- "smoke" and tears, or cheers of joy!!