Christmastime in Humpyland
It has been raining quite plentifully the past few nights. Especially last night. I cannot say this displeases me. I enjoy hearing the rain outside, and I love how the sound lets me feel so comfortably safe and pleasantly distanced from the outside world and worries. I can't hear the rain from my dorm room, and that saddens me; so even though it's Christmastime, and even though it should be snowing, I love this rain, and I will love it while it lasts.
Unless I have to drive in it, which would be a bit of a pain.
In other news, my mom broke her pinky finger the day before last. Was unloading our repaired leaf-blower after picking it up from the shop, and she was using Conner's wheelchair lift to lower it from the van. She somehow tripped over the wheelchair lift, fell, and caught herself with her hand, in the process breaking her pinky. (The irony of this is rather amusing.) So it's a spiral fracture, it is. Which means the bone broke in two with a slant, and the top part slid down the other a bit, effecting in the shortening of her finger. Really gross. I had to drive her to the hospital to have it x-rayed, diagnosed, and bolted. We were there for over five hours. And that was with my dad pulling strings to get us in and through ASAP. Still, it was one of those accidents in which, yeah, it's inconvenient, but it could have been a lot worse. My mom could've hurt her back or neck in the fall, or could've broken something worse and more painful than her pinky (a finger only really necessary for its cuteness of appearance, courtesy of extension, and securing of promises). And nothing went terribly wrong aside from the break: I was home to help her, my dad had a nice long lull between on-call duties and could come and help, too, and my uncle was still in town and at the hospital so he stopped by for a bit as well, and everyone was very helpful, and it wasn't as stressful a time as it could have been. Honestly, I think of the entire experience as a Christmas blessing, really.
And I find it very curious how optimism often leads to such bizarre conclusions: starting point, my mom breaks her finger; and in closing, it was a very merry Christmas. Odd, odd, odd.
Unless I have to drive in it, which would be a bit of a pain.
In other news, my mom broke her pinky finger the day before last. Was unloading our repaired leaf-blower after picking it up from the shop, and she was using Conner's wheelchair lift to lower it from the van. She somehow tripped over the wheelchair lift, fell, and caught herself with her hand, in the process breaking her pinky. (The irony of this is rather amusing.) So it's a spiral fracture, it is. Which means the bone broke in two with a slant, and the top part slid down the other a bit, effecting in the shortening of her finger. Really gross. I had to drive her to the hospital to have it x-rayed, diagnosed, and bolted. We were there for over five hours. And that was with my dad pulling strings to get us in and through ASAP. Still, it was one of those accidents in which, yeah, it's inconvenient, but it could have been a lot worse. My mom could've hurt her back or neck in the fall, or could've broken something worse and more painful than her pinky (a finger only really necessary for its cuteness of appearance, courtesy of extension, and securing of promises). And nothing went terribly wrong aside from the break: I was home to help her, my dad had a nice long lull between on-call duties and could come and help, too, and my uncle was still in town and at the hospital so he stopped by for a bit as well, and everyone was very helpful, and it wasn't as stressful a time as it could have been. Honestly, I think of the entire experience as a Christmas blessing, really.
And I find it very curious how optimism often leads to such bizarre conclusions: starting point, my mom breaks her finger; and in closing, it was a very merry Christmas. Odd, odd, odd.