The Two Year Plan . . .

It's been almost two years now since I pulled my pinkie/ring finger on the lane line while doing the back crawl.  The first doctor I saw three months after it happened said it would heal on it's own.  No worries!

Sadly, it has never really completely healed.  Over the past month (Gee! Where do I work?), the pain has been increasing to the point that it has been keeping me awake at night.  I finally asked my beloved foot doctor to recommend a hand surgeon who I saw this morning.  

The good news is that it's only ligament damage.  The bad news is it still needs to heal.  Helping me to heal is that shot of pain-infusing cortisone I got right between the fingers this morning - in the next forty-eight hours to two weeks we hope.  Should that not bring healing, physical therapy is on the docket.  Until then, it's just me and my finger buddy . . .

 

Twenty-five minutes!

No matter how fast or slow I go, my trip to Sand Creek always seems to take twenty-five minutes.  There are multiple people I could thank for that - the farmer on his tractor, the milk truck driver, the trash truck driver, the deadly slow driver, the idiot driver - it doesn't matter!  

A few weeks ago, I decided to redeem the time.  I started with calling my dad.  For twenty-five minutes we talked.  Since then, I've reached out to numerous friends and family members.  I've talked to people in Iowa, Tennessee, Florida and just thirty minutes away!  I have been blessed.

Want a call?  Send me a text and I'll let you know when I can call you!  You, then, can calm my road rage . . .

From the Good Ship . . .

 

These photos were copied from Shawn Thompson's blog.  Do pray for the good ship Mercy as it prepares for it's next outreach in Guinea.  It's currently finishing dry dock in the Canary Islands and preparing to sail soon.

Only at Sand Creek . . . on a rainy Saturday!

Just a few miles from home, the rain began.  It continued the entire drive to Sand Creek and while our first group arrived - a group of ten female friends who had come to do the high ropes course and then zip.  A few of them had on our most favorite African raincoats.  Nothing beats a garbage bag with a hole on the bottom seam for your head and two holes in the sides for your arms!  Brilliantly colorful describes the language they chose to use - or fantastically foul - your choice!  

One by one, as I sent them up the cargo net in the high ropes, they really were a sweet group of ladies.  Together?  Trouble!  Fortunately, it didn't rain on their parade for long and for the most part, it was an enjoyable morning.  They joined the eleven o'clock zip group and just as they were all finishing up, the rain began.

It was a wet lunch, but by the time our 1:00 p.m. zippers arrived, the rain had stopped.  We zipped again at 2:00 p.m., then off to the high ropes with a vastly different group from the day before.  First of all, we had twelve rather than four with Brooke and Heather being the heroes of the day!  They had met as nurses at a correctional facility and proceeded to teach me the RIGHT way to use the walkie talkies.  Then Heather took it upon herself to help the young man behind her.  He was too short to move his own trolley, so rather than make him wait for his mother (who was behind him), she waited for him, encouraged him and helped him be successful - for which I thanked her profusely.  So did his mom.

We ended the day with a delightful zip full of fun people.  I gave my hours for tomorrow to Tom.  We had laughed alot - all day! - and experienced great success - only at Sand Creek!

Only at Sand Creek . . . on a Friday!

It finally happened yesterday.  I became down-right steamin' mad angry at Sand Creek.  It wasn't the first group of zippers for the day or the second sent me off.  Nope, it was our third group for the day - an innocent looking family of four in the high ropes - two brothers and a sister and the youngest brother's son.  

The son, who was in third grade, had issues from the start - making inappropriate comments, not listening and certainly not following directions.  Had he been my child, he would have been pulled aside and spoken to.  He wasn't.  After making it through the high ropes, I got him off the zip, then it was his father's turn.  Understand, father had watched me get son off the line.  

I said to father, "I'm going to grab your ankles (in order to slow you down, bring you to the ladder and help you dismount)."  I can not make this up.  He deliberately, with a smile on his face, pulled up his knees, moved his ankles out of my reach (which did not allow me to stop him), knocked over the ladder and went over the edge where I could not reach him.  D.E.L.I.B.E.R.A.T.E.L.Y. 

His son asked me what I was going to do.  I said, "Nothing.  I'm going to let Alan take care of it."  I was done with them.  I let Alan walk them up the hill while I packed away the high ropes equipment (which we would usually do at the end of the day).

Alan told me afterwards father told him he thought I had said, "Watch your ankles."  Um.  NOT.  "Watch" and "Grab" sound nothing alike.  Not only that - what happened to "I'm going to . . . "?

Fortunately the last group of the day was absolutely fun and wonderful on the zip line.  I guess three (great groups) out of four isn't bad!

Thankful Thursday!

Some "Thankful Thursdays" are just meant for laughter.  Today was one of them.  As I was finishing up my swim, a young man joined me my lane - in a speedo - most likely swim team.  Three other equally buff young men were waiting to get in.  One of my older friends called them "eye candy".  I smiled.  They were serious young swimmers, most likely getting ready for their season.

What was I thankful for?  I was done.  I wouldn't have to swim with them because they were FAST!

What was I laughing about?  The ladies in the locker room.  Those sweet young men were going to SPLASH them.  They would get their hair wet.

Duh.  We're in a pool on a "Thankful Thursday"!  Get wet!  

Only at Sand Creek . . .

I had resisted signing up to work last night.  After all, it was last NIGHT.  For those of you who know me well, I am the epitome of "morning person", far removed from "night owl".  I can only tell you how glad I am that I finally caved - it was my chance to be in charge (yes, I was the manager)!  

We had a lovely group of eight sixth, seventh and eighth grade Girl Scouts.  This was their last hurrah before the troop disbanded.  They had, for the most part, been together since first grade, but now life was changing and their role in scouting was ending.

They did an excellent job on the low ropes with Tom and I.  They successfully completed the high ropes course.  Then they zipped.  It was like telling all your nieces goodbye, not knowing when you'd see them again.  

Just before they left, their leaders gave us a ginormous tip which brought another smile to every staff face!  Awesome night!