Big Day

So it's finally here.

Surgery.

Tomorrow at 7:30 9:30 AM CDT, I go under Dr. Lemon's knife.

Please keep good thoughts going skyward, and I promise that soon after I will break my silence and tell you what's really been going on.

For now, I am busy being a control freak responsible teacher and attempting to plan for everything my substitute (for the substitute) could need. The doc suggested taking a week off, so we are erring on the side of caution and I'm out until Monday the 11th of December. Scary, since there are concerts coming on the 14th and 18th, but what happens, happens.

After all, it is middle school band concerts--not a NATO summit or something.

It's all about perspective, right?


***Update: All went well, though the recovery is NOT FUN. More later. Thanks for the notes!

Bloglines Readers

If you are reading this through bloglines, and have gotten re-updates of like a billion posts, I am really sorry. I think bloglines is on the fritz--I haven't seen it yet in mine, but I assume it is only a matter of time. Nearly every blog I read has recently republished about the last 6 months worth of posts, and it's really annoying. I know my dear blogger friends are not going in and changing one little letter in each post and reposting, so I must blame bloglines.

It's quite a letdown, really, to see 90 new "Les Blogs Français" posts and actually find only 2 new ones and 88 republished old posts.

End of rant. Happy weekend!

Surgery

Finally!!!

A light at the end of the tunnel.

November 30th is the day. The doc said I really don't have any choice.

Fine with me. I just want this over. People seem shocked that I'm happy about having surgery, but they don't have to live with one leg. It's been one month as of today.

On the bright side, my shoulder is healing and not nearly as painful, though it is quite weak. I can't lift my laptop with my left hand, and I have a boatload of exercises I have to do twice a day. Oh well, not like I have much else to do while sitting here on the couch. Today the PT sub (mine was sick) "massaged" the muscle to loosen it. Yeah, it hurt like heck. I'm still sore, and a bit bruised. She warned me, but it took a lot of deep breaths to get through it. OUCH.

Sigh.

But, something I will be doing is planning my sub plans for the post-surgery time. You know, for the sub for the sub. Just what I want ten days before our concert. Argh!!! But, hopefully I will be healed enough to stumble down the isle at MagE and GLove's wedding on New Year's Eve. Luckily, the dress is long enough to cover anything, and I'm madly searching for silver flats on Zappo's. Let me know if you've got any leads.

La France Vient Chez Nous

This weekend, we were thrilled by the visit of some friends, who not only brought us tales of Paris, but goodies galore, and hugs, and lots of fun. We spent four and half days with Aimee and Julien, and their ".5" who is due sometime in March. We talked, we ate, we shopped, we relaxed, we watched a really silly but highly enjoyable movie, we hit the yarn store, we knitted and we pretty much ate our weight in great Madison takeout and restaurant fare. (And they didn't complain once about dragging me around in the wheelchair we rented.) It's been a long time since I've seen Dr. B that happy as he and Julien played dueling Mac laptops and sampled some of the local brews (I think the last time was pre-knee injury) and I felt nearly whole again with one of my best friends right in the same house with me (well, as whole as I can be with only one knee). What a treat! Aimee even took me to Target and let me look at clothes and shoes and really cute pajamas that have dogs on them that look like Lucy, kind of, with Milk Bones. Those are on my Christmas list. (Dr. B just doesn't have much patience for that kind of stuff.)

Wisconsin did not disappoint, either--combining 65 degree sunny weather, fog, rain, cold, wind, sleet and snow all in one weekend!

Then on Sunday, Andie, Etienne and the two munchkins came by for brunch. We had a nice meal, got a chance to talk, catch up and laugh for several hours, and Gab enjoyed watching Muppets in Space and Family Guy (he's too young to understand how inappropriate that show is), playing with his cars, and chasing Lucy--he'd pull her tail and giggle, and she'd wag it and then turn around and kiss him on the cheek. Of course, Miss Bliss is adorable, calm and very snuggly. What a treat to see her!

So today, it was back to the grindstone. After a grueling PT session, I headed to school and Dr. B came home to welcome our french stuff, that we shipped on Aug. 23 from Paris, which was supposed to arrive the first week of October. Yeah. Really prompt, no? Blame it on US customs. Grrr.

By this time, I was getting pretty tired of the 3 cardigans (1 blue, 2 black) I had been trying to keep fresh by pairing them with slightly different shirt/pant/scarf/earring combinations, so I am relieved to see our things are finally here.

Everything made it, including some extra stuff that's not ours, but the furniture did not fare well. Bottles of wine? Fine. Glassware? No problem. Click Clack Bed? Damaged. IKEA dressers? Trashed. Shelving unit? Snapped in half.

Dagnabit.

Oh well.

At least they didn't break the wine.

(Thanks again Aussielass and the Muffin Man!)

PS: my cameras were in one of the boxes--so I'll finally be able to take some photos again soon! But first, we have to get rid of all these boxes in the living room. (It seems like I've said this before...)

Right

When I was growing up, I lived as the eldest child of a mixed marriage.

My Mom was a Democrat. My Dad, a Republican.

Each election, they would have the same discussion. "Why bother voting? We'll just cancel each other out anyway."

And each time, they both did vote. Secretly hoping the other one wouldn't.

So, growing up in this type of a home, I heard both sides of the story. Though they didn't talk much about politics, their personal views and ethics were clear. They were respectful of each other, and agreed to disagree. And disagree they did.

My mom died in 1998. My dad is still a staunch Republican, with Christmas cards from the Bushes arriving each year, and of course his prized possession, a photograph of himself with his uncle Melvin and Ronald Reagan, in the prime position on the wall in the den, next to the door, so he can see it every time he walks in and out. My grandparents, too, are Republicans from way back, and are proud to wear little elephant pins on their lapels and decorate their homes with American flags and red, white and blue.

On my mom's family's side, things are a bit quieter, but their political views are just as strongly held and just as passionate. Though they may not wear their opinions on their sleeve or lapel, they do their duty. They vote.

As do I. Every election. (OK, I admit that I think I missed one for alderperson back in 2002.**)

Today, I got to feel that wonderful feeling that I get each time I walk through the school doors and give my name and address. I hobbled on my crutches over to a table and folding chair, sat down, and cast my ballot. (I had to suppress the urge to cheer as I headed toward the door.)

I am proud to be an American, and I always will be. I am proud to have the right to vote. I am proud that my vote counts, even if statistically it's not very much.

But it's mine. It's my opinion. It's my values. It's what I feel and think and believe, and I have the right to tell my government. It was a right that people fought and died for, and I do not take it lightly.

And every time I exercise my right, my duty, I am filled again with that powerful knowledge that ensures me--I do matter.

And so do you. Please, if you haven't yet, cast your vote. Tell them what you think.

Because it is important.







*Image from University of Tennesee Libraries.
**Alderperson 2002: I still feel a little guilty about that one.