Disasters & Disappearances

So the rundown of the weekend went like this:

I was in such a hurry to get everything done before my mom got back, and I was quickly running out of time. Trying to keep things up at her house, my sister's, and my own was taking its toll on my organizational skills. It didn't help that the temp was in the triple digits all week.

I was trying to wash clothes & dry them while not heating up my house, so I had my air conditioner running. The only problem was that running the dryer and the air conditioner was too much of a load, and it kept blowing the breaker. So I would hop up on the washer, crawl on top of the dryer, and fix the breaker. About the third time it happened, I was irritated and wasn't paying attention. I hopped up on the washer, only to realize that I had been in the process of putting clothes in it and the lid was open. I nearly got myself stuck, and it took quite a bit of wriggling to get out. I was like Roseanne trying to get out of a phone booth. Grease my thighs and throw a Twinkie into the street.

Then Friday night, I headed over to my mom's house when I got off work to do a little watering and feed my horse. I pulled in the drive and discovered that the water faucet was leaning at an angle. Uhh, that doesn't look good. I was going to attempt straightening it, but since there was a chance the line was broken underground, I had no desire to be culpable in any way. We'll just leave that until Mom gets home.

And that's when I saw it. The gate to our corral was hanging wide open. I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I ran out to the corral. My horse was gone. After the initial panic fit, I calmed myself, shouted, "I hate my life!" at the sky, and grabbed a halter. I started combing the nearby roads without any luck. I knew she had been in and the gate was shut at noon, but a horse can travel a long ways in 5 1/2 hrs. I kept envisioning her on the highway causing an accident, and I'd end up paying for the rest of my life for someone's reconstructive surgery.

I stopped at an implement dealership across the road where a buddy of mine works. I asked him if he had seen a stray horse, as though it would be the most commonplace thing in the world. He said no, but the radio station had announced that the local locker plant had found a horse and it was in their chutes. I figured I'd better hurry out there, or I'd be buying back my horse in packages.

It turned out the guys had seen her grazing in an open pasture across the highway. One of them took off his belt, wrapped it around her neck, and led her to the locker without incident. They couldn't believe how well-behaved and trusting she was. Now if only she was that good for me.

I still haven't figured out how the gate got open. I know for a fact it was closed when I was there, so someone would have had to intentionally open it. And there was no reason for anyone to be in there with her in the first place. Whether it was accidental or not, it put a serious cramp in my evening. I don't enjoy trekking along a highway in flip flops leading a horse in 106 degree weather.

Just to keep things going in the same direction, I was scurrying around Sunday morning, trying to get my nephew packed and ready to leave. I took a step into my kitchen, caught my heel in the hem of my skirt, and fell backward, smashing my back into the doorjamb. I now have a bruise across my low back. I look like I'm wearing a purple hiphugger belt. So classy.

And I nearly experienced death by fire engine. But that's a tale for another time. So, how was your weekend?

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

I know I said I wouldn't be posting today, but guess what? I lied.

Before my mom left for my sister's yesterday, I printed her out a map and directions. In case they weren't clear, I explained the directions even further, writing out highway numbers and describing landmarks along the way. Just in case that was confusing, I spoke to her directly, speaking in "left" and "right" instead of the vague "north" and "south". I listed to her the towns she would pass through on the way, and I mentioned specific points of interest, such as stop lights in the middle of nowhere and unexpected construction.

So she got lost. She turned where I told her to go straight, went through a town I hadn't mentioned, and somewhere along the line became afraid that the load of dressers and a desk in the truck were unstable. She stopped to ask a farmer for assistance with straightening the load, at which point he broke one of the bungee cords. After the third call from my sister to me in a panic, she finally arrived, about an hour late and completely frazzled.

That woman needs an OnStar button implanted right in her arse. Then every time she got in a butt-clenching situation, help would magically appear. Great googly moogly.

Come-Ons and Meltdowns

As my elderly coworker & I were leaving work last night, there were two drunk Indians guys sprawled on the bench next door to our office. I ignored them as I always do, and we walked on by to the car. As I opened my door, I heard a voice yell, "Lookin' good, lady!" I looked up to see one of the guys waving while trying to steady himself. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have even answered, but it just struck me as funny, so I said, "Well, thank you!" But he couldn't just leave it at that. He then shouted, "You too, Grandma!" I just about died laughing as my coworker shot him a withering look and replied, "Gee, thank you." When we got in the car, she turned to me and said, "Last time I checked, I KNOW I didn't have any grandchildren that looked like THAT." Hi-larious.
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Our local radio station had a telethon to raise money for the firemen who came to assist us, and for the families who lost their homes (3 of them didn't have insurance). By the time it was over, they had raised $135,000. How cool is that? From what I hear, the money keeps pouring in. It's great to see people come out of the woodwork to help. Every little bit helps!
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I called my sister Monday night to see if she had gotten out of the hospital yet. The moment I said, "Hey, it's me," she burst into tears. Now that's not exactly great for the ole self-esteem. People usually have to be in the same room with me before they begin sobbing.

However, she claims it had nothing to do with me (am I losing my touch?). The surgeon explained to her that the surgery was more complicated than originally thought, which led to the putting in of the metal plate and screws. He now says she still may never walk right. Couple that fact with major lack of sleep, severe pain, massive nausea and flat-out homesickness, and we have a meltdown.

We were on the phone for over an hour, and I felt like crap for not being able to do anything for her. The meds aren't helping with the pain, but they make her want to hurl. The niece who is taking care of Beavis keeps hinting around about money for food and gas, never acknowledging that the reason she is broke has more to do with her poor money-management than with an extra mouth to feed. Sister Cripple & her hubby have already shelled out money to her twice, but she keeps moaning about it. Then her mom hinted to them that they should turn in those costs to the insurance as well, since it "takes about $75/day to care for him." M'kay? And since when does it take that much for food for a 15 year old? Perhaps if the caretaker weren't over 300 lbs. herself and spent a little more time cooking real meals instead of eating out 5 times a day, she wouldn't have to worry about breaking the bank.

So I talked it over with my mom, and she is leaving this afternoon to go down there. She will stay through Friday, and then she is bringing my sister and nephew both back with her. They'll spend the weekend here, and I will take them back Sunday night. We are sending down real food and supplies to the niece, so if she is that concerned about costs, she can spend a little time at home cooking instead of introducing her butt to the booth at Perkins.

In the meantime, I make no guarantees I'll be around here for a couple of days. My car is in the shop, and I have to drive my grandpa's Goobermobile. And now I'll be taking care of things at my mom's, my sister's house here, and hopefully my own. So if I haven't died of heatstroke or lack of sleep by Friday, maybe I'll throw you a bone. Otherwise, stellar is going to be forced to update his blog, right along with some of you other slackers (you know who you are). Perhaps a new post would be appropriate just in case. I'm pretty sure the tubes are clear by now.

He Must Have Forgotten the Turban

A buddy of mine just moved to New York City. 21 years old, he's a big strapping kid that has spent his life in the country. He's accustomed to hard work, but he hasn't been off the farm much. He's not exactly naive, just not quite worldly-wise. He comes from a family where your word is your bond, and you trust everyone until they give you a reason not to. He is currently a carpenter by trade. This summer, he has spent a lot of time roofing, so his skin has gotten quite tan and he's a nice looking kid. (Any of you ladies out there looking, I can set you up.) :P

So last Thursday he flew out from Omaha, headed to his new home in the Big Apple. This was his first time on a plane. He had a connecting flight in Minneapolis. He was walking through the airport, minding his own business, when security came out of nowhere. With no explanation, they shoved him up against the wall and started to search him. They wouldn't answer his questions when he asked what was going on. Then they yanked his bags out of his hands and began searching them too.

When they didn't find anything incriminating, their attitudes suddenly changed. They got very friendly, patted him on the back, and apologized profusely for the inconvenience. But they still never told him why he was targeted, especially in such a rough manner. He was completely freaked out by that time, and called home to tell his mom. She told him due to his dark skin and dark hair, they probably thought he was a terrorist. Welcome to America.

Doesn't he look threatening? I know I'm terrified.

Tales From the Front Lines

You know, this whole $3.00+/gallon for gas crap really puts a damper on the traveling every weekend thing. I have put over 2,600 miles on my car in the last 4 weeks. Just for the record, that’s a lot of coin going in that friggin’ tank.

Anyway. Sister Cripple’s surgery went well, though it took almost 3 hrs, instead of the predicted 1-2 hrs. When they got in there, they discovered that the severed tendon was not the one that had to be repaired, as this one will heal on its own. That was good. But they had to put in a metal plate to fuse the bone. That was not good. But her flesh isn’t dying. So far, that’s good.

But they had promised her she would get out of the hospital the same day. And after it was over, the surgeon decided to keep her for two days. Lemme tell ya, she was one pissed off lil’ puppy. She doesn’t handle disappointment well, and she absolutely hates the hospital. Let the waterworks begin.

Plus, she is in a lot of pain, and they can’t get it under control. It was hurting her so much that her blood pressure went through the roof and set off their monitors. Then when they finally gave her a shot, it interacted with what they had already given her. Her pulse shot up to 145, and that just made it worse. Either way, she needs to find some way to relax. The more worked up and tense she gets, the worse her pain is. Easier said than done.

Beavis, on the other hand, is getting sick and tired of being cooped up. They have him in a new brace that is easier to walk in, so his cousin took him with her on one of her cleaning jobs. She sat him in a chair and told him not to mess with anything. Yeah, right. Has she met this kid?

A few minutes later, their uncle, who was working with them, came walking in to find Beavis’ sitting with his hand down his pants. Horrified, he thought there was some, umm, self-abuse occurring. Instead, he discovered that Beavis had gotten bored and found inking stamps lying on the counter. Lo and behold, one of them said CONFIDENTIAL ONLY. And being 15, what better place to stamp those words than south of the border?

His uncle was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, but he went in to tell Beavis’s cousin, since she’s the one who is supposed to be monitoring him. She was shocked, appalled, and completely disgusted, and she couldn’t believe he would ever do such a thing. Clearly, she has no kids of her own.

She ordered him to wash it off immediately, and it was then he discovered the stupidity of his actions. You see, that kind of ink isn’t exactly temporary. So she told him he would have to go to the doctor to have it removed, at which point he started to panic and beg forgiveness. It’s amazing what a kid will believe.

When I got down there, my sister told me the story without him knowing. Later on at the hospital, he was talking tough to me. “You like getting’ lippy? You want a punch in the mouth?” I just looked at him, smiled, and replied, “Would you like a kick in the Confidential Only?” There was a pause, and the light bulb went on. His face went 15 shades of red, and he stuttered, “Well, isn’t that cute. Thanks a lot, Mom.” I’m never letting him live this one down. Blackmail: it's a beautiful thing.

Things Ain't What They Used To Be

I have a raging headache today. While I realize that it doesn't really have anything to do with the price of tea in China, I thought you should know, just in case you had some spare sympathy lying around. Or Advil would be sufficient.

I had big plans last night of being organized, efficient, and ambitious. By the end of daylight, everything would be mowed, flowers watered, and the house would be immaculate. Yeah, well, that all went right in the crapper by about 4:00.

My mother had said earlier in the day that she wasn't getting any water pressure for her outside hydrants. So the well guy was going to come check things out and see if it was a problem with the pump. Around 4:00, I got a frantic call from her that the well man had looked things over and he was convinced that it was either a break in the line between the house and the well, or the pump had gone bad. He claimed that his pumps never go out that soon, so it must have been replaced since he put the new well in back in '97. A new pump would cost about $900, and if the wiring had to be replaced as well, it would be upwards of $1300. She chose this moment to freak right out.

Now this is the point that I could have said, "Hey, it's no skin off my butt one way or t'other." But then she would have come down to my office, ripped off my head, and hacked a loogie down my throat. And that would be bad. Instead, I agreed to be there when I got off work, so someone without a hearing problem could interpret what they said.

When I showed up, the well guys were already there, and they were in the process of hauling out all the pipe and wiring from the well, 185 feet of it to be exact. I walked over to offer to help, and I realized that the guy with the owner was a kid who used to be friends with my ex-brother. He was cute back then. Very cute. Nothing has changed. Well, except the fact that he's married with 3 kids. And his wife is a stripper. And he no longer breaks into my mom's house when nobody's home or rides a 4-wheeler in our pastures. And he's held down a job for quite some time without being arrested. But other than that, just the same. Very cute.

But I digress. When they pulled out the pump, imagine the boss's surprise: it was the pump he put in - it had his initials, date, and everything. He was pretty sheepish about that, muttering something about "never knowing when to keep my big mouth shut." But he discovered that the pump was the type he no longer uses, since he can now get a bigger size at a cheaper price. And the wiring was still salvageable, so there wouldn't be the extra cost there. By the time they had replaced the pump, mocked each other, lost their flashlight, and partially flooded the utility room, it only cost her $450. That still sucks, but not nearly as much as expected.

The well guy also said he could put a blinker switch on it, so she would be able to tell when it was kicking off & on, since she can't hear it anymore. So I asked him if he could put one of those on her telephone too. I really don't think that deserved a punch in the arm, do you? How ruuudde.

By the time I got home, I had to race around to mow my lawn. It was only 100 degrees (only!), but I swear it felt like 120. We hadn't mowed because of the heat and the fire, so now it was really long. I was completely worn out by the time I had finished and taken the grass over for my horse. I was weak, my head was pounding, and my heart was racing. Even after I came inside to cool down, I still felt really shaky, like the Wonky-Eyed Beast does when she's forced to remember the alphabet. I'm guessing it was probably the heat, but I generally spend every summer outdoors and I've never had this problem before.

Anyhow, I think that's sufficient reason for me to boycott any further outdoor work this week. I mean, is a green lawn really worth dying for? I say no. And I'm always right when I argue these things with myself.
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I won't be around these parts tomorrow. I am leaving for Kearney at 5:00 a.m., as tomorrow is my sister's third (and hopefully final) surgery. Once she has this surgery, she will be laid up for 6 months. So much for getting rid of the handicapped toilet.

And my nephew found out from the ortho today that the initial diagnosis was wrong. This surgeon says he should have been in physical therapy every since they let him out of the ER. Both of the ligaments that cross his knee are torn, one almost completely in two. Also, the kneecap is fractured in two places, another thing that was missed the first time around. In addition, he has been in the wrong kind of brace all this time, and it was allowing too much movement. He is now in a thigh to ankle joint brace that locks at a certain position so he can't overextend the knee.

He will have to be in physical therapy for the next four weeks. Then he will have the reconstructive surgery, where they will put in artificial ligaments. Once he has the surgery, he will be completely laid up for 4 months. Do you know what this means? My BIL best get ready to start wiping some butts.

Behave yourselves while I'm gone. If you don't, there'd better be some video.

Don't Like My Driving? Stay Off The Sidewalk

About a week ago, the owner of our office supply vendor stopped in the office. He looked like the south end of a north-traveling horse, so I asked him what was wrong. He said he had been out on three calls the night before as part of the fire & rescue crew. There had been three separate car accidents over the weekend after the fourth.

The first was an accident where two carloads of kids had been drunk and racing. One kid lost control and rolled his car several times. He ended up dead. The wreck was a bad one, and the firemen didn't get home until after 12:30 a.m.

He had only been home about a half hour when they got another call. They were on their way to that wreck when they called away to another accident where their assistance was a priority. People were already on the scene of both accidents, so they headed to the second one.

A man, his wife, and a 4 year old daughter from Kansas had been traveling down the highway in a dualie pickup with trailer carrying a race car on behind. Not accustomed to the area, they saw "animals" in the road, which turned out to be deer, and he swerved to miss them. The only problem? There was a vehicle coming from the other direction.

The trailer hit the minivan from the other direction so hard that it wedged in the frame. Then a van full of cheerleaders that had been behind the minivan hit the wreck as well. It rolled a few times and ended up stuck against the fence. The van and the truck both caught on fire.

By the time my friend arrived, some guys had kicked out the back window of the truck and drug the little girl out. The wife had a broken pelvis, but the man was uninjured. Though none of the people in the van were wearing seat belts, they all got out. Some had serious injuries, but none were life-threatening.

So he was sent over to the minivan to see what he could do. On his way by, a state trooper told him, "Watch out. There are a lot of parts on the road." He assumed the trooper meant car parts. He was wrong.

The man in the minivan had his window open and he had his arm resting on the sill. When they hit the trailer, it sheared off the door and flung it about 100 feet. His arm was still holding on to the door. Not only that, but pretty much the entire left side of his face and torso was all over the highway. They literally had to walk the lanes of the highway to collect pieces of him. His adult daughter had been in the passenger seat and also had her arm out the window. Yep, you guessed it, her arm was gone as well. They found it about 200 feet in the opposite direction. She didn't survive either.

Because my friend is on the fire crew, they are the ones who have to gather remains and wash the blood off the highway. He didn't get home until 6:oo that morning. He says while he is out there, he just does his job. But once he gets home, that's when it hits him. They are not offered any form of counseling or any way to deal with what they see. Now, I may be a lightweight, but I don't know that I could handle a job like that. Maybe if it was only my enemies...

After all that, he was one of the volunteer firemen who came down this week to assist in fighting our fire. He worked about 20+ hours straight, and then went back to work running his business without ever taking a day off. My hat is off to him and all the others that make our lives easier by doing the dirty jobs.

In regards to our towering inferno, the helicopters are still dumping water today. They are staying until tonight, and then I believe they are leaving. The National Guard are still trekking the canyons putting out hotspots, but it looks like things are pretty much under control. As my grandpa says, it will burn under the surface for quite some time, but rain is predicted for tomorrow, which will help if we actually get it. They are setting up donation places for people to help with the expenses of gas, lodging, etc. for the volunteer firemen, and I'm assuming something like that will be done for those who lost their homes as well. Kind of puts things into perspective for the rest of us.

And just so you know, it's 103 degrees here today and the wind is 15 mi/hr. Just in case you were feeling chilly where you are and were looking for a vacation spot.

Not Quite An Eternal Flame

Well, the town is still here. Am I supposed to feel more secure now that I know the governor has flown over the fire and held a press conference? Somehow, it just doesn't seem to do the trick. However, I was slightly more impressed when they brought in the National Guard. That was a little more confidence inspiring. They are still working today in the canyons, putting out hot spots.

As of last night, they reported that the fire is contained, but not controlled. Right now, I think the final count is 12 homes destroyed, numerous houses damaged, and 200 people evacuated. No word on how many acres burned, but the fire was about 6 miles wide and lord knows how long. We had 47 fire units helping, one from as far away as Kansas. If it hadn't been for the slurry bombers from Rapid City and Denver, and the Apache helicopters that came in yesterday, the fire would have likely taken the town. And ranchers from all over the area brought their spraying equipment and water tanks in, and my boss is confident that's the only thing that saved his house. Our state senator's husband, Bruce Fischer, and his nephew fought it for hours at my boss's house.

My boss's brother was out helping the ranchers fill their tanks on Sunday. When he got back to town, he drove by his house. There stood his wife and daughters in the yard. They had gotten all of his guns and hunting equipment out of the house and packed in the truck. As he said, "Clearly, I've got 'em well trained." I had to laugh, because if the fire had actually gotten into town, with all the ammo everyone has, it would have been WWIII.

We made cookies last night and took them down to the fire hall. There had to have been 300+ guys here. Most of the crews were straggling back in at that point, and they were just worn out. Some of the guys had already gone home, and they had sent back replacements. It's just unbelievable how much help showed up, and the majority of them are volunteers. They had to leave their jobs and travel hours to get here. They'll never know how much we appreciated their being here.

It's funny how in a small town everyone is affected. I knew every person who lost a home or had severe damage. Most of them are friends or colleagues who I work with on a daily basis. And I know every one of our firemen and their families. Most of the businesses in town were shorthanded, because they either employ a fireman or one of their family members who were volunteering. A friend of mine is married to the fire chief and she is a secretary for another law office. She said she hadn't seen her husband in two days, but then again, her boss hadn't seen her in two days either, since she was shuttling food and supplies.

You can finally walk outside and not breathe in smoke, so that's a good sign. But a chopper just went overhead, heading back toward the site, so it's not over yet. We're being allowed to go back to watering our lawns today, which nobody has done since Sunday morning. And while the wind is picking up again, the temperature is down. We're finally catching a little bit of a break. We're even supposed to have cable back by today.

The local website even asked to use my pictures, which I agreed to. But here's my favorite picture yet, courtesy of the North Platte Telegraph. Welcome to Nebraska.



Tomorrow, I will tell you the gruesome tale that was meant for Monday before the world blew up. Get ready. And don't eat breakfast.

Going Down, Down, Down in a Burning Ring o' Fire

Does anyone know the formula for fire? It's 113 degrees + 9% humidity + 20 mi/hr winds + blown transformer = fire. The biggest torcher this area has seen in 30 years hit our town yesterday. About 3:30 p.m., my mom & I were headed over to work at my sister's old house. We looked up in the sky to see the biggest, blackest cloud of smoke we've ever seen.



Being naturally curious as to where it was originating, we headed up by the park on the north side of town. By the time we got to the park, we could see it was farther north out of town. We were debating whether to call it in, sure that a fire that big would have already been reported. But nothing had come across the radio, so I started hunting my cell phone. Just then, the DJ came on and said they had just gotten a report of a fire. We were already back in town before the first trucks ever went out.



Since we know a lot of people in that area, we started making calls. I called a buddy of mine to see how close it was to his house and to see if he wanted to bring his horses to town. After about the third try, I finally got him. He said he had his horses loaded because it looked like the fire was headed straight for him, and then the winds shifted. But if it got any worse, he would bring them in. Mom predicted it would be at Government Canyon (an area of canyon property open to the public) shortly, if it wasn't there already.



The fire spread so quickly that within a half hour, it was in Government Canyon and beyond. Things are so dry here right now that it spread like, well, wildfire. Houses went up in flames before people could get anything out. Thankfully, the area north of town is sparsely populated, but it's just sickening to see those beautiful trees go up. But my bosses both live on the north edge of town, so I was concerned that it would get into city limits as fast as it was traveling.



My mom & I decided we'd better pick up some bottled water and ice, because by the looks of things, those firemen might be out there awhile. My grandpa was a firefighter for the U.S. Forest Service, so we knew how long this can go. But we weren't sure where to take it, since we didn't want to be in the way at the fire hall. Right about then, the radio asked for people to bring and ice, coolers, water, etc. to a local meeting place not far from the fire hall. Done.



We spent the next few hours hauling water, ice, dry towels, coolers, food, etc. back and forth to be taken to the front line of the fire. You would not believe how this community came together to help. Even people from out of town showed up to assist. Of course, after we bought a crapload of ice and bottled water, the convenience stores started offering it for free. Way to jump the gun. Then the announcers started asking for anyone with firefighting experience or grass tools and firefighting tools. Well, we don't have the experience but we got the tools! We went and raided my grandpa's tool shed, hauling hand scythes, shovels, axes, rakes - all his old firefighting equipment. He may not get to be there in the flesh, but at least he can be there in spirit.



There was just no way that our firemen could keep up, and they knew it in short order. The call went out for crews from surrounding areas to help. We currently have firemen from 27 different units here too. Every fire unit for 100+ miles showed up in a hurry. They have come from as far away as Sioux Falls, and planes have come from Rapid City, SD, and Denver too. Just an amazing outpouring of support. Our firemen are all volunteer. Normally, I mock them and call them "the pissin' crew", because they spend the majority of their time drinking beer at the fire hall. But after yesterday, you will hear none of that from me. Those guys have worked their butts off. They were all fighting fire until about 9:00 last night, before they were finally made to go rest awhile. Now, they have them on shifts, so there is less chance of heat exhaustion.



Even with all the help, the fire kept raging. The wind just kept blowing, and with the horrible heat the countryside was like a tinderbox. It jumped the creek, headed into the park (which I think was saved), and started up the hill into town. People started being evacuated from the northeast side of town. Before long, one quarter of the town was under evacuation orders, including the two assisted living quarters and the hospital. My boss's wife was in the hospital, so she was evacuated to a nearby town.



My sister's house was under the evacuation order, so we went and started loading up my grandmother's dressers. I couldn't reach them, so we just left everything in my BIL's garage. We soaked down the cedar fence and got the heck outta Dodge. As it was, the fire didn't reach that far, which is a good thing, because there are so many flammable materials in that garage, it would have taken out the city block.



At about 11:00, we got a call from my buddy, asking if he could bring the horses to town. The winds had shifted, and he wasn't taking any more chances. So he got into town about 11:30, and we started unloading horses. They were freaked by the smoke and flames, and my horse was freaked by the sight of other horses and the sounds of planes overhead. My horse started striking at the gate, so I jumped another gate and tried to calm her down. (I am in flip-flops and shorts, BTW). I managed to coax her into our small barn with feed and got a halter on her. I tied her up in the barn, but since it was still 97 degrees I was worried about her getting overheated. I was trying to slip out of the barn without spooking her, and I stepped right back into a fresh pile of horse crap. Screw the horse, let her burn. (She didn't, she's fine).



The fire went up the hill where my boss lives, and they were evacuated yesterday afternoon. As of yet, we have not heard in from them, so I don't know if their house is gone or not. It was up to the yard at the last time anyone heard from them. They have such a beautiful home, but a house isn't worth your life. So far, at least ten homes have burned completely, and many more are damaged. A friend of mine lost his home - all they got out was the pictures and the dogs. His garage was burning when they ran out and by the time they got to the end of the driveway, the house was completely engulfed.



Right now, the fire is contained in some areas and still not under control in others. More crews went out again about a half hour ago when the wind picked up. Right now, they are concerned with blowing embers near town and hotspots near our mortuary. If it burns up, will they only be able to charge for cremations? Ahem. Anyway, the air is still filled with smoke, and every time someone opens our front door, my eyes start burning again. I can't get the smoke smell out of my hair, but since I have my house, there's no whining going on here.

So three cheers to the unbelievable firefighters and community who have pulled together and managed to save most of this town. It's been a scary time, but it could have been so much worse. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find me a dust mask.

UPDATE: My boss just showed up, and they managed to save his house! It took one of his outbuildings, and burned right up to his lawn, but they got it stopped. They are still fighting hotspots, so he is going out to help them, but everyone is alive and well. Whew.

UPDATE#2: Another fire just started, apparently close to where the original fire started. However, it is now burning against the wind, which is just weird. They have evacuated a few more people, and my buddy is concerned it is heading back toward his house. They are hosing down their wood shingles, but it may be to no avail. The upside is that the two helicppters just arrived and are scooping water out of our fish hatchery. And another fire unit from Martin, SD, just arrived. Keep your fingers crossed.

And it just burned our communication tower and took out our cable! AUUUUGGGGHHH!!!

Hell Just Got A Little Cooler

Would you like to know why I'm smiling? What do you mean you can't tell? Oh right, this is the internet. Yeah, well, I'm not getting a webcam to prove it, so you're just going to have to trust me. I'm grinning like a kid that just crapped out a quarter. Except my face isn't as red.

But back to why I'm smiling. The Wonky-Eyed Beast is gone today! You see, she's been here a year (that felt like five), so she felt entitled as usual. What does she do but ask the boss if she gets vacation now. Being the extraordinarily nice guy that he is, he couldn't say no. We really need to teach him the importance of that word. It comes in handy when, say, people are worthless.

Anyhow, since she found that out yesterday, she decided what better time to take vacation than now? I say it couldn't come at a better time. Sure, it's only one day, but hey, we're giddy around here. One whole day without her ugliness, idiocy, lies, and reekage - I'm in heaven. Sure, everything else went wrong this morning, but who cares? I'm confident the day can only get better.

In other news, my sister goes in for surgery on the 21st. Then she has to be laid up for three months. Holy crapballs! The surgeon who is doing her surgery has performed 900, and only two people have had to have their foot amputated. Umm, okay. Is it really necessary to throw that part in? She was already concerned about being called Gimpy. I don't think she's going to feel any better about Stub.

There are risks with the surgery that her flesh may start to die off or the skin could shrink. Isn't that a lovely thought? Great imagery there. If that happens, they will have to take muscle from her shoulder or stomach to repair it, and skin grafts will come after that. She's not thrilled about the idea of being a walking Frankenstein, but as I pointed out, it's better to have a few scars than not be able to walk. Chicks dig scars. Ok, so that doesn't really apply in this situation, but you get the idea. Do guys dig scars?

I'm going to be going down for the surgery, so it will give me an opportunity to get an eye exam too. I've been wearing the same pair of 2 week contacts for about 6 weeks, since my prescription is expired and there's been no time to go in for an exam. I bet the other people around me on the road are going to be thrilled when I can see again. But the mirror and I will never again have the same relationship.

For the record, I intend to do nothing all weekend. My cousin & his fiance are coming to town tonight, and we may just go out or hang out or something. But there will be no work involved - I won't let it happen! Maybe I'll join them when they go down the river tomorrow. I'd rather be sunburned in a kayak than mowing a lawn.

Have a great weekend. And for those of you already on vacation today, do even less tomorrow.

Recipes for Disaster

Well, my mother is back, and I finally got a full night's sleep, so we now return to our regularly scheduled programming. I'll try to just hit the highlights, but I'll probably choke like a chicken swallowing a bowling ball. There's a lot to say.

Friday was insane, full of packing, cleaning, and helping my mom with her weekend janitorial job. Assume there was no sleep and it was essentially crappy. Moving on.

Saturday
Plans for the day: Going-away party for Old Man River and a friend who is moving to NY
Temperature: 100 degrees

We started the day out at 7:00 loading up boxes and cleaning out Old Man River's apartment. My uncle had arrived in town, and immediately started telling all of us how much we would miss the geezer. Then he proceeded to inform us of the profound effect it would have on our lives, and then questioned us on our feelings. Call me crazy, but I have a difficult time being psychoanalyzed by someone who doesn't have a tooth in their head and has the word Jacqueline tattoed in cursive across his chest.

In the midst of the cleaning, a drain in a closet started backing up. It is meant for just catching condensation from the air conditioner. Instead, it shot filthy, fuzzy water all over creation. It took over an hour to get a repairman to show up, who then informed us that he had several others in the building do the same thing over the last few weeks. Well, duh McFly, you think maybe the line's clogged? After about an hour of prognosticating and scratching himself, he finally decided to call a plumber. Once they finally got it clear, we got to start all over cleaning up water that had soaked into everything. Just shiny.

It was hotter than a June bug on a wood stove all day. As mentioned previously, there was horseback riding to be done. My horse and I hate the heat equally, so we tried to get it over as soon as possible. I had to keep going back and forth to my house to get food in/out of the oven, but I promise I washed my hands in between times. And no horse hair was found in the food, so all was safe.

42 people showed up for the going-away party. Everything went smoothly, and the food was a big hit.



My mother started a water fight by pouring a glass of water down one of the guy's backs. Never one to get even, he prefers to get ahead. Out came the water hose. My mother was in a white shirt. I'll be going in to have my eyes removed now.

Once everyone cleared out, it was back to packing and hauling crap out. I need to explain that Grandpa couldn't take much with him, so most of his stuff had to go somewhere, i.e. my house, my mom's house, etc. I now have a microwave, a carom board, piles of dishes, three pillows, a vacuum, and boxes of miscellaneous items residing on my living room floor. Anyone need enough junk to furnish an entire house?

Once again, sleep was murdered for me. It was so hot that my air conditioner couldn't keep up overnight, and my back felt like someone had been doing acupuncture with ice picks. I finally dozed off about 3:00 a.m., only to be awakened about an hour later by the friggin' trash truck.

Sunday
Plans for the day: Finish packing for big move, attend memorial service for friend
Temperature: 95 degrees

The day began at 6:00. Yes, the one in the morning. My uncle continued pestering my mother like a five year old. We finally got everything loaded and rushed home to begin cooking for the memorial service. In the midst of everything, my mother called - her oven door had locked and she couldn't get it open. I ran over to pick up her tator tots to broil (eat your food, Tina) and return to her for her casserole. We were running late at that point, and I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off, which may be why I forgot to shut off the broiler (to be discovered 6 hours later). When I got to her house, I discovered my car, the one we were taking to the service, was on empty. We stopped to get gas, and I was putting on my makeup while it was pumping. My mom pulled the nozzle out of the tank but was still squeezing it. Gas shot all over her and the ground. She washed off in the water holding the random squeegee, and proceeded to hang her arm out the window halfway to the service.

The service was uneventful. He was still dead.

Still no sleep. Thought of turning the cat into a rug, shish kabobs, a purse, etc. if he didn't stop meowing. I bet he'd quit crying if he hit the wall hard enough.

Monday
Plans for the day: The big move
Departure time: 6:00 a.m.

We were about 15 miles out of town when the rain began to pour. We had tarps over all the crap, but by the time we got to the first town, they were pretty much shredded. My mom was driving my car behind us, and I thought she was going to have a meltdown. It rained the entire way there, but I was driving fast enough to keep the tarp flapping. No puddles in these parts! Things actually weren't too soggy when we got there, and the rain let up just enough to give us time to get things inside.

When we got everything unloaded, I figured my grandpa would expect us to hang around while he got settled. Instead, he tells us, "Well, it's time to eat. I'll see you guys later. Go have fun now that you're rid of the old man." Alrighty then. I hate long goodbyes anyway. Now where's Taco Bell?

Now keep in mind that I'm going on about six hours sleep in the past three days up to this point. That is the only explanation for why I forgot that my car was also in the parking lot. My mom hopped in the truck with me, and we drove clear across town before I remembered. It actually turned out to be a good thing, because I had also forgotten to stop and say hi to my cousin who works at the vet's home. So we casually strolled back in, saw her, and just happened to take my vehicle with us that time. Ahem.

My wiper had flown off once again during the rain storm, so I picked up a new one at Wal-Mart. However, I forgot to put it on before we left Grand Island (are you sensing a sleep-deprived pattern here?) We got on the way to Funk, and the rain started up again. Then my car started missing, and I don't mean in the Dude, Where's My Car? way from earlier. Then my check engine light came on while I was going down the interstate. So I pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out to replace the wiper while being pelted with rain and soaked with sludge from every semi that nearly mowed me down in the process. Then I just prayed that my car would make it to my sister's house before it blew up.

By the time we got to my sister's, I was so exhausted I was almost delirious. They all insisted I lay down and take a nap before I drove home. I sacked out on the air mattress in the living room. Then everyone proceeded to come in to the living room, sitting around talking and watching the Pink Panther. Yeah, this sleep thing is just working wonders here!

My mother decided to be nice and load up my car while I was "resting". The only problem is that my mother is completely, utterly, and in all other ways, totally clueless. As she got the cage of oxygen bottles out of the front seat, she failed to notice that the nozzles were sticking out the side, like they always have for the last 12 years. As she turned, they ran all the way along my back door. There are now several deep , wavy scratches about a foot long adorning my car door. She waited to tell me until I got up, but since I hadn't been asleep when she was lamenting her mistake to everyone else, I had time to cool down before her confession. Maybe I'll have her repeat it on the other side and call it detailing.

On my way home, I was following a fuel truck and we got on a winding road in road construction. Here comes three semis from the other direction and the road is barely a lane in each direction. The trucker in front of me moved out on the shoulder, the semis did the same, and I hit the brakes. They missed each other by about 6 inches, and a year of my life was gone. And a clean pair of shorts. Since I was carrying twelve oxygen bottles in the car with me, I was a little nervous. While death by oxygen makes an excellent inferno, I can only imagine it's not a pleasant way to go.

So that's the long, boring, convoluted story of the weekend. Things should be relatively back to normal now, so maybe I can rest up and shorten the ole postings. But don't get your hopes up - everything is windy here in Nebraska.

There's a lot to tell from my weekend, but it's just not going to happen until I can get some sleep. And since my mother stayed down with my sister for the next two days, and I have to keep her place running while she's gone, that won't happen until later this week either. It's going to be Caffeine Central here until at least Thursday. Do you think if I asked nicely I could convince a doctor to put me in a coma for a few days?

In the meantime, here's a couple of pics from our little rodeo at my grandpa's going-away party. She doesn't look like a killer, does she? Actually, it was pretty uneventful, but since I came away without broken bones, it's just the way I like it.













































Have a great week, people. I'm off to buy stock in No-Doz.

Hog Caller Beauty Queen, 1962

Since it's time we have a new topic around here that doesn't involve people having their bodies smashed or cut into, here's a tale of our latest office visitor. I heard the front door open, and I strolled up to my office. There stood a creature that looked like the female version of the Albino from The Princess Bride. She was wearing a baggy flowered tank top falling off an ample shoulder, with the tag hanging out the back. Blue polyester shorts were permanently lodged in the ole poopchute, and I'm pretty sure she was going to need a pantshorn if those suckers were going to go anywhere.

Wild, white hair was fighting for which direction to go. The bugged-out eyes appeared to be in a state of mania at all times. Large vericose veins were threatening to burst and fill our reception area with the blood of the disturbed. Twisted, black and missing teeth protruded from her cakehole, and there's no way they've seen a toothbrush in decades. However, they were almost covered by the full-on lip muppet that twitched every time she opened her mouth. Men's moccasins a size too big were flopping like a scuba diver's flippers as she walked down the hall. As she passed my desk, the stench of rancid grease, BO, and stray urine wafted into my personal space, prompting an involuntary gagging fit. If there is such a thing as hobo porn, I think I just found their centerfold.

A few years ago, this woman left her husband, who just happened to be the short order cook at a restaurant that lost my business the moment he was hired. He was enormously fat, foul-mouthed, and sweat like a pig. According to this woman, she finally realized she was just too good for him. M'kay.

Denial? Check. Ugly? Check. Obnoxious? Check. Smelly? Check. Clueless? Check.

Well, that confirms it. I've just found the Wonky-Eyed Beast's biological mother.
----------------------
UPDATE: Sister Cripple gets out of the hospital tonight! She'll have to go back on Tuesday, but at least maybe she can rest at home for a little while. They still don't know what all is wrong in there, but there's time to figure that out later. For now, she's getting drugs and her own bed! Woot!

The Morton Salt Slogan Was Right

I went to Kearney yesterday to spend the day at the hospital, since my sister was having surgery again. I normally hate hospitals, what with the stench of death and unchanged catheters, but this one actually wasn't too bad. They've got a funky piano in the front lobby playing music on its own. Of course, I'm an idiot, so the first time I walked in, a woman was sitting at the piano and I assumed she was playing it. I actually stood and listened for a few minutes. Then yesterday, I discovered the truth. I should never be let out of the sandhills.

She had surgery in the afternoon (it was running late), and this time they discovered she has a severed tendon too. They couldn't tell which one it is (there are three), so they are going to do an MRI. If it is a particular one, they will have to do surgery on that as well. There is so much swelling right now that they are going to have to wait until next week for the other surgery to repair the heel. She was really in a lot of pain, and they just couldn't get it under control. She even had tears streaming down her face when she was asleep . Now they won't let her get up anymore without help. No going to the bathroom even - time for a bed pan! She is not one bit happy about that, but it hurts her to even lift the leg to put a pillow under it. There's just no way she can manage on her own.

We found out about Beavis's MRI today. He has a ruptured ACL, large joint effusion, a Grade 3 sprain of the medial collateral ligament, severe bone contusions, and small partial meniscus separation. Got all that? He has to see an orthopedic surgeon tomorrow, and they will decide what to do from there. It's frustrating that every time they go in, something else is wrong. However, things could have been much, much worse.

His knee is just enormous, and he can barely get the leg brace sometimes. He just flies down the hallways on his crutches, though. He nearly ran me down yesterday. One of these days he's going to hit slick floor and bite it. I only hope I'm there when it happens. What? I meant to help him, of course.

When I got there, I gave him a stuffed monkey. I told him it was standard procedure at accident scenes for the paramedics to record everything that goes on, so that if there is ever a question of what happened, they will have proof. He agreed like he'd been in many accidents, so I told him that I managed to get a copy of the recording from when they were putting him on the backboard, and I had it inserted in the monkey. Then I told him just to squeeze it, and the recording would play. He squeezed that sucker, and it let out a high-pitched, ear-piercing monkey shriek that went on forever. He was completely disgusted, and I laughed my butt off. What a maroon.

On the way to Kearney, I saw a little fawn crossing the highway, all by its lonesome. I pulled over to the side of the road to find my camera. By the time I got it, he had gotten pretty far away. If it turned out, I'll post it later. He was about the height and color of the grass, so it might be like looking at a naked albino in a snowstorm. But he was cute, and that's all you need to know.

Oh, and I saw a hitchhiker walking along the road, not too far out of a small town. I debated about stopping (no lectures please) if it turned out to be a woman. But when I got closer, I saw it was some scroungy guy in a flannel jacket that was last washed during the Nixon era. As I drove by, he proceeded to have a meltdown. He started jumping up and down, waving his fists and screaming. My lip-reading is a little rusty, but I'm pretty sure he said something about a stooped bench. Any ideas what that could be? You know, berating drivers might not be the most effective way to get a ride. Just a thought. I almost backed up and yelled, "Tired of walking? Run awhile, jackass!"

Of course, I was paid back a short time later. It started raining to beat the band, and all of a sudden, my one wiper flew almost completely off. It was staying on by a thread, but since the wipers were still on, it was pounding against the windshield like some helmet-wearing drooler in the middle of a fit. I whipped over to the side of the road and jumped out in the pelting rain in an attempt for some Repair by Braille. By the time I got it jammed back on and got into the car, I was soaked and resembled a more hygienic version of the hobo. Take that, arrogant human.

That's all, folks. My aunt showed up to help move my grandpa, so there may not be much time to blog this week. She's quite the taskmaster. On the other hand, I may need an emergency outlet for the frustration overflow. Would any of you like me to delegate work? Someone needs to mow my lawn, cook for the going-away party, attend a memorial service for a friend who just died, and make motel reservations. I'll be over here in the corner, rocking back & forth and sucking my thumb.

Roll On, Eighteen Wheeler

What's the worst phone call you could ever receive? "You're being audited"? "I accidentally ate your dog"? "This is your mother-in-law, and I'm moving in with you"? "This is your father, and I've decided to become a gay lounge singer"?

Well, I got the worst call Saturday night while in Lincoln.

"[My sister] & [my nephew] were in a car accident. They got hit by a semi."

They'll live, thankfully. But couldn't the first sentence have been "Everyone's okay"?!!!?? Instead, I get to have a heart attack first. Thank you so much.

They were driving down the highway, but they weren't going very fast. They were driving past the truck stop just off the interstate. The semi was coming off the interstate and was still going fast. He turned directly into her. The eyewitness behind him said that if my sister hadn't swerved at the last second, her car would have gone directly under the trailer. They would have likely all been dead. As it was, it totalled out the car she was driving and totalled the semi cab as well. (!)

She was driving the 2005 Cadillac that belongs to the lady she takes care of, who has Alzheimer's. They were out for a drive, as that seems to calm the woman down. My nephew was lying in the back seat, and my sis realized he didn't have his seat belt on. She told him to GET IT ON, at which point he laughingly asked the old lady if she thought he should. She said, "Well, dear, that is what they tell us to do, so I suppose we must." He got quite the chuckle out of that, but he put it on. The crash was about 15 minutes after that. The paramedics said if he hadn't had the seat belt on, he'd have gone directly through the windshield.

As it was, Beavis was asleep when they were hit. He didn't wake up until after the fact, and he sat up and asked where they were and what was going on. My sister, meanwhile, had her foot crushed under the dash that was smashed in. She couldn't see it, but she was in so much pain that she thought it had actually cut her foot off. For once, she didn't panic, which is unusual, since she nearly had a meltdown the time we were all in a bad wreck (a long story for another day). But she made sure the old lady was alive and Beavis was okay before worrying about herself.

Thankfully, there had been people on the scene right away. The guy driving behind the semi called it in, and the paramedics got there quickly. He also called my BIL, so he got there in time to see the accident and he got pics of the vehicles. Beavis was okay, until one of the guys looked at my sister's foot, and said, "Wow, she's losing a lot of blood." Then he started trying to get out of the car. The EMTs were trying to get him on the backboard and get the neck brace on him, and he had a panic attack (they think he may have been going into shock). It took three guys to hold him down and get him stabilized. Just how big a' boy are ya?

As it turns out, my sister has a compound fracture in her heel. It slivered the bone and one piece came up and out the side of her ankle - hence the copious amounts of life fluid shooting everywhere. They couldn't set the bone, what with the shattering, but they did surgery to clip off the end that was sticking out. Then they shoved the rest back where it's supposed to be, and cleaned it out. They're really worried about infection, so they haven't casted it yet. It keeps bleeding, so they are waiting for that to stop. Once they cast it, she has to be off it for six weeks. No working, no walking on it, nothing. She has a burn from the seat belt and a bruise from the lap belt, plus contusions all over her back from getting banged around. She will be in the hospital at least through tomorrow, maybe longer.

My nephew has a bruised kidney and bruised ribs, which are painful but must heal on their own. He also has pulled ligaments in his knee, and they have him in a thigh to ankle brace, or as he says, "a leg immobilizer." He was hoping for a cast, which just goes to show that he's never had a cast before. What a dork. But he's having a lot of pain in his knee, so they are doing an MRI in about an hour to see if the damage is worse than thought. If ligaments are actually torn, they will have to do surgery. If it's sprained, he will just have to wait it out. We'll know more for sure by Wednesday. He also has a bruise from the seat belt, and minor contusions on his head. He got out of the hospital yesterday.

The old lady has two broken ribs and a broken wrist. However, when she's at home, she thinks she's visiting someone else's house, so she's no more confused at the hospital than anywhere else. But she is up and around, and she should be able to go home soon.

The doctor told my sister not to sign anything. The guy admitted it was his fault, claiming he didn't even see them, and he was given a ticket on the spot. But the doc said that best case scenario, she will have pain just from walking on it for at least a year. But depending on how it heals, she may have chronic pain for the rest of her life. The way it looks, the other people who take care of the old lady are trying to take over her hours, so it sounds like she won't even have a job when she gets out.

So, that was my weekend. Sure, I saw some enormous obese people elbow deep in chicken and mashed potatoes at the Golden Corral. But it kinda seems to pale in comparison.

UPDATE:

Sister Cripple has to go back in for surgery tomorrow. The second surgeon thinks it may be worse than originally thought. If so, they'll have to do something more. Two options: leave it alone, and she may end up crippled for life, or have surgery, and complications might lead to even more problems (skin dying while in surgery, etc.) We'll know more tomorrow. She is going to be in the hospital until at least Friday now. No traveling allowed, so their trip to Bismarck this weekend is no more.