Everything Must Go!

Once again, I was faced with the Utah "sell" for "sale" thing.  You know, "Target's having a big SELL on electronics!"  Except this time it wasn't the usual, expected-type source.  This was a well-spoken (or well-written, actually) person with a lovely way of expression and terrific spelling.  Broad vocabulary.  And somehow managed to use the word "sell" in the place of "sale" repeatedly. But this person isn't from Utah, but rather the south.  I guess it's a widespread problem.

We were talking today about Charlie, our Cairn, and how he loves each of us for different reasons. Me?  I'm the boss, flat out.  When he's too wound up to obey anyone else, my voice almost always cuts through the excitement and gets a response.  Oh, and I'm the one he comes to when he's scared or worried about things.  Hubby?  He's the face licking and and tug-o-war playing guy, the go-to for ice cubes and the guy whose feet he most wants to rest on during the day.  And our boy?

He's the fetch-playing king.  Charlie will grab a toy and begin trotting through the house, looking for his boy.  If he can't find him, he becomes increasingly upset, crying and searching.  While he will tolerate one of the adults taking the toy and throwing it for him, he'll only go after it once, then go off in search of his boy again.

All three of us are good for sleeping on.

Here's a video of one of Charlie's favorite things.  You may find it a bit disgusting.  Sorry.

I think I've decided to have the basal cell (why do I keep trying to capitalize that, like it's deserving of some honor?) excised instead of using the Aldara.  Yes, it would be cool to use the Aldara and keep a running photographic commentary on my blog, but you know what?  Stuff's gonna be four times as expensive to use (provided there are no problems), and it's not as effective as excision.  Yes, I'll have a scar.  Oh, look, another scar!  Another!  Let's see--gallbladder and appendix (before the days of laparoscopic surgery), C-section, car accident face, and various horse and hiking related scars (plus stretch marks!), and I'm going to worry about a little scar on my arm?  Yeah, I think I'm going to go for the more effective, cheaper treatment.  Maybe I'll take "stages of healing" wound pics, instead.

Found out today that Charles Trentelman of the Ogden Standard Examiner is retiring.  No, I had no inside scoop, though I've been Facebook friends (and a little more than that, I'd like to think) with him for years.  He gave my boy a beautiful Desert Storm coffee mug (black with gold) and a terrific, BIG framed pic from the RAF.  I like Charles, even though our first experience with each other was a rather heated discussion of the relative qualities of Northern Utah vs Upstate New York.  Needless to say, we disagreed.  And that's okay--fact is, I like the heck out of Mr. Trentelman, and I'll miss his writing.  He often gave voice to the thoughts in my head.

Speaking of the end of an era, I've stepped up  my attempts to find some information about Sister Mary Jane and Sister Elizabeth from St. Benedict's in Ogden, Utah.  It's been 35-40 years since I've seen them, and I'm sure Sister Elizabeth has likely died.  But Mary Jane was much younger, and could conceivably still be around.  I'd love to know how she is, see how her life turned out.  She may have originally been from Minnesota, and may have gone back there after she left Ogden. If anyone knows/knew her, please let me know (or let her know she's remembered).  If you think someone might know her, please pass this along.

This came across my wall again.  Well, it's the first time for this meme, but we've covered the point before.  It bears repeating.

No politics today.  I read a bunch of slime that dribbled out of Lance Kinzer and find I can't even go there today.

Really quick, check this out--figured it out in just a couple of minutes, and it only took me AND hubby!  Which means that, between us, we're smart!  

So here--have some really crappy paneling to round out the day!

Did we ever think this was okay?

Do not reprint without permission. © KAQ

Three Cheers for Basal Cell Carcinoma!

The jolliest and most friendly of the skin cancers!

Yeah, I called the dermatologist today (since they didn't call me).  It's a "superficial" basal cell (who knew cancer could be superficial?  Positively trivial, it is!).  They gave me the choice  of using Aldara (a cream that super-charges your immune system to attack the cancer, leaving your skin in the area a disaster for a couple of months, but pretty effective AND pretty expensive, even after insurance) or having it excised (a lot cheaper, even more effective, but there's the whole ouchie-cutting/scar/infection thing). I think I've decided on the Aldara (for science's sake--I've always wondered how well it works), but no way we're dropping that cash right now.  I said, "So, if this is so minor a thing, can I wait a couple of months?"  She said yes, there was no rush.

No rush, babe--it's just cancer, but it's one of those silly, superficial ones.

My fear?  That I'm doing the "skin cancer sample pack" gig.  I've already done squamous cell and basal cell. Please, I'd just as soon skip the melanoma and Merkel cell.  Thanks anyway.

Lesson here's a simple one--don't sunbathe.  Don't hang out in tanning beds.  By the time you figure out that doing those things are stupid,  it's quite likely too late. So make sure your KIDS don't do those things.  Slather them in sunscreen.  Make them wear hats.  Slather and hat yourself, too, but know that, while preventing future damage is good, you can't undo the stupid of your teenage years.  You can't undo that horrendous sunburn your mom let you get when you were seven when she left you basting in a wading pool for four hours in the middle of summer.  Can't undo the damage done when you mistook cocoa butter for sunscreen when you were ten and practically burned off your nose (the same nose gone squamous 34 years later).  But you can keep it from  happening again.  And that's something.

Here's an amazing story on Huffpo (but it's been in a lot of places) about a truck driver whose left side shows the ravages of sun exposure, while his right, which was shaded, is smooth.  It's dramatic.

Going to put my new plantar fasciitis inserts in my new shoes.  I have a pair in my old Asics Gel-Kanbarras, but don't want to be pulling them from pair to pair.  My only complaint about these insoles (they're made by Profoot) is that they very fronts get sort of weak and lose their fit/form because they're so thin up front.  Doesn't detract from the function, though--these inserts have drastically improved my plantar fasciitis.

Drastically!

So putting these:

.  

Into these:

Makes this: 

Feel a whole lot better.  Did for me, anyway.  I know nothing's a cure-all, but these inserts made a difference when nothing else was.  

Well, didn't mean for this to be a health segment.  Guess that's just where I am today.  No news on Epinions and the payout.  My money (har-de-har) is on the haves getting their money back and the rest of us being relegated back to the bottom of the heap, losing the nice (though modest) increase we thought we'd earned.  One of them actually posted that he doesn't care what anyone else earns, he only cares about his own earnings.  I believe, rephrased, that would be, "I got mine, screw all y'all."  Trying not to be too disappointed.  Sure was nice, for just a minute, to feel like maybe I wasn't bottom of the pile.