August and Everything After

Boredom is a crazy thing. It’s funny how your mind starts to work when you have nothing to do. I have always been one for the practical joke or just a good old fashion scare. As Mindy can attest to, these are common events in our house, however even these events have become too easy and predictable. Therefore I have decided to add another element to my human game…the video camera. This new medium will be more of a challenge considering the fact that I must have better timing and planning. The attached video was my first test of the new system and it worked as planned. Be sure to check back often and watch my progress. Also, don’t feel bad for Mindy, yes she is most likely always the one being teased, but in the end I think a good scare is good for everyone.

Fire on the Mountain

Today while stumbling my way through physical therapy I happen to look up at the TV and see the headline…”Breaking News…Fire in Corner Canyon.” Reading this gave me that feeling where your heart kind of starts to sink, you know, like when a pretty girl smiles and you think she is smiling and you but come to find out it’s the guy behind you.

I told Mindy that it might be best if we head home seeing as I would rather watch my house burn in person then on TV. As we drove home the smoke cloud seemed to be getting larger and lager, however it became clear as we got closer that the fire was about 3-4 miles from the house and the winds were in our favor. When we got home, we both sat on the deck watching the airplanes and helicopters fly over head all afternoon.

Today Mother Nature was on our side; however I don’t think it will always be that way. We knew the risks of building a house in the mountains. If the winds had changed directions today and the fire swept through our house, it would be devastating, but we wouldn’t be surprised. I have a hard time understanding how people who knowingly build their house in a flood plain and then wonder why their house got flushed down the river…were they really surprised? As a tax payer, should I pay for their recovery? When Mother Nature decides to take its natural course and it happens to destroy my property, you won’t find me in line looking for a handout.

This Woman’s Work

Over the past 15 weeks nothing has been easy. From drinking a glass of milk to showering, everything has been a challenge. My patience is worn thin daily with what was once the most basic of tasks. However, I know that I have made it this far thanks to one very special person…my fiancé Mindy.

Now for those of you who know me personally, I think you can sympathize a bit with her.

Picture this…

The day before your engagement photos, your fiancé calls you and tells you to meet him at the hospital because he’s a dumb ass and he broke his leg.

The Dr. then informs you that you will need to reschedule your entire wedding because of that same broken leg.

You are then told that you must take care of a 28 year old stubborn male, who can not bath himself, feed himself or even get himself out of bed.

Take all that and top it with my impatience and “type A” personality and that is what Mindy has had to deal with for the past 15 weeks. I don’t think many of you would last very long. However, never once has she complained about the inconvenience my stupidity has caused. Even in my darkest hours, and there have been plenty, she was always there right by my side trying to find a positive outlook on things.

Words can not describe just how grateful I am to have her. Usually I would make a joke and say something like, she is lucky I found her, but the reality is that I am lucky she found me.

Say It Right

While spending yet another mind numbing day around the house I happen to stumble upon a rather interesting blog from an old high school friend. Now normally I would avoid this type of blog, based on the fact that every post in someway relates back to her kids, however one of her posts caught my eye. http://www.happyhowcrofts.blogspot.com/

It is important to note that this story is laced with historical inaccuracies; however what truth there is just shows how smooth I can be. For this story to be told we must go back about 11 years to my junior year in High School. I, as is to be expected, was a handsome, charming and a bright young man with the whole world before me. Unfortunately, not everyone was as big of fan of me and I was of myself. One of my biggest critics was a young girl named Kristen. For reasons still unknown to me, she hated me with a pure unadulterated passion. Her hate for me was very vocal, as most everyone knew her true feelings about me. However, there came a day when I was approached by a group of girls who offered me a rather interesting challenge. They were willing to bet $40 that I could not get this girl who hated me to go out on a date. They said they would give me 2 weeks to accomplish this task. I laughed at this bet, what these girls failed to realize was that I had more charm than Prince Charming himself. Long story short, not only did I get her to go out with me; she also proclaimed that our date was the “best she had ever been on.” Now you may wonder what would cause a girl with such hate and discontent to change her views so drastically??? It’s hard to say; maybe it was my rugged good looks or dashing charisma. All I know is that after this date, my stock soared to near record highs and after that my dance card was always full…so to speak. Sadly for Kristen, I told her I had to move on, but that I wanted to stay friends. After she was finally done crying, she agreed and we have remained close friends since.

Sure Shot

Who would have thought that crows, four to be exact, would cause me so much grief? Ever since I moved in this house I have been haunted by these crows…really, this is not a joke. These crows are the largest I have seen and not only do they shit all over the side of my house and deck; they also come up to the windows and peck at the glass. It’s not a soft peck either. I’m sure that if I don’t somehow stop them, they will break one of my windows. I’ve never heard of birds doing this and I’m starting to believe that these crows have some sort of personal vendetta against me and this is how they are seeking there retribution.

I initially thought that scarring them away would be easy and I figured since my leg was broken that I would have plenty of time to devise a plan to rid these pests from breaking my window; however these birds have proven to be worthy adversaries.

Since all my other ripe ideas have failed miserably and negotiations are out of the question, I was forced to move to Plan B; my air-soft gun. The purpose of the Air-Soft gun is not to kill the birds; I only want to scare them enough to leave my yard.

So there I sit waiting by one of my widows for their return only to have them go to another window, which is out of range for my gun and start pecking at the new window. I know this is quite humorous to most everyone. Personally it’s become quite aggravating. Though surprisingly my neighbors now look at me with strange stares, maybe it’s the new Unabomber beard or the fact that I am sneaking around my yard with a gun, who knows. You would think they would appreciate the sacrifice that I am making…ungrateful.

You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here

Since its been decided, not by me of course, that this years 4th of July family party will be over at my house, I figured this is as good as time as any to show you my new home. I won’t bore you with the frustrating process of home building; all I can say is that in the future, I will think twice before I have another house built.It has now been 4 months since we moved in and I still don’t truly feel “moved in.” This is partly because 2 weeks after the movers dropped off our stuff, my appendix ruptured and then a month and 4 days after that I broke my leg. Yeah…hasn’t been the greatest year when it comes to pain.

Nevertheless, I love the home. Though stairs have proven to be a bit of a challenge as you can see from my pervious post, the house is everything that I have wanted it to be.

However with the party being at my new house this year, I am finding myself having some reservations about the whole family party thing (I think anxiety is a better word). I guess the problem is my house just isn’t kid friendly. Not to mention the kids that are coming over are absolute terrors. I’ve fought against Nicaraguan Rebels more tame than these kids. Now it’s not that I don’t like kids, when properly medicated I think that can be great. It’s just that the kids in question are a bit on the rowdy side. So as the 4th approaches I can only cross my fingers and hope for the best knowing all too well that their behavior is well beyond my control.

Stairway to Heaven

When I was deciding on how and were I wanted to build my house, a broken leg never crossed my mind. I thought that it would be great to have a master bedroom upstairs away from the rest of the house. I now look back on this decision with much gloom. Over the past 7 weeks I have learned to loath these stairs that I have built, every single one of them. Between the basement, main floor and upstairs, there are 45 long arduous steps. Sadly, unless I want to sleep in my office, there is no getting around them. I am currently employing the hop method, whereas I hold on to the railing and jump stair to stair. I have found this far superior in both time saved and humility gained, to the well known butt scoot method first used after the accident. In time I am sure the accends and descents will become easier, however for now I will continue to bitch and curse my decision for building a house with 4 flights of stairs.

Slow Train Coming

Today marks 6 weeks since I broke my leg and what a long 6 weeks it’s been. As you can see from the x-ray, my leg is still very broken; however there is improvement from the last x-ray. My Dr said that I have another 4 weeks in the hard cast (though looking at this latest x-ray, I have a belief it will be longer than that) and another 6-8 weeks in a walking cast.

As time slowly ticks away I believe that I am starting to come to terms with how bad my break really was. When I was in the hospital no one really prepared me for the task that lay ahead. Maybe it was the large amounts of Morphine or possibly me just trying to think optimistically, but they lead me to believe that after 6 weeks in a cast they would take it off and I would be back to normal. From what I am told now, there my never be a “normal.” No one really tells you about the pain that you will go through, even weeks after the accident or the helplessness you feel trying to get around and do once simple tasks. Anytime I go anywhere my route needs to be planned out like that of the Presidential motorcade. I’m a patient man, that’s what enduring 8 months in an Iraqi prison camp will do to you, but these last 6 weeks have really seemed longer than usual.

Don’t read this as me being negative. Trust me, I’m doing my best to stay positive, but at times it’s hard when you stare down a calendar only to realize you have another 10-12 weeks.

Reluctantly Crouched At The Starting Line

So this starts what will hopefully be a long list of posts in regards to my VW Class 11 Baja project. For those of you not familiar with Desert/Baja Racing, Class 11 means racing Stock VW Beetles. Now I’m sure to most, racing over 500 miles in the desert is a stock Volkswagen doesn’t sounds all that fun, but I figure since I lack the funds and talent for anything larger or faster, it’s as good as place as any to start.

The picture I have posted is what I am hoping my end result will be. I’m currently in negotiations with the owner of a rusted out 1969 Beetle and a builder to help me with the project (soon to be Father-in-Law). Since I have limited funds and even more limited skills in rebuilding a VW, this just might be another perfect storm and lands me back in the hospital. Well, I’ve already met my deductible for the year, so might as well take advantage of it.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

It doesn’t take an Orthopedic Surgeon to tell that both of those bones in the picture are broken…and yes, those are my bones, from my right leg to be exact.

Now I wish that I could say I was doing something spectacular when this accident happen, maybe rescuing the elderly from a fire at a rest home or evacuating US Diplomats from a US Embassy under siege. No, it was another all too common ATV accident.

On May 9th I decided to take my ATV out to 5 Mile Pass to scout some new trails. I went alone…yes; I know it was a mistake. Long story short, after an hour or so of riding I came to rut in the tail and ended up taking it at a wrong angle, slipping off the bike and ending up with a compound (meaning the bones were sticking out of the skin) break in both the Tibia and the Fibia. Under normal circumstances this break and the ensuing loss of blood would be a challenge, however I found myself about 25 miles from help and alone in the Utah desert. Never have I ever felt so alone.

I will save the dramatics of my ride back for another post one day, but I will say that I have never felt so much pain and come so close to having Shock take over in my life. However painful, I did make it back to help and eventually to the hospital and then into surgery. I spent 4 nights in the hospital and now I am home, helpless hobbling around the house.