SUNDAY MORNING VISITOR

Early this morning, before the sun cast a single shadow, we had a visitor at the front door. Actually, at the kitchen window facing the front yard. I never made contact with our visitor, but captured the visit on camera.

And that was not an easy task.

Shown in the lower right corner of this photo, our visitor scouts the area surrounding a tasty food supply. Demonstrating photographic creativity, artistry and genius, I have chosen to make the subject blurry and to focus the camera, instead, on the window screen. As if I had a choice.

Sensing safety, our visitor approaches the desired destination.

Can you see our visitor here? Our visitor is partially concealing the view of the white shutter on the left side of the open window of our across-the-street neighbor.

Breakfast time.

TOE AND EYEBALL UPDATE

Exactly one week ago today, I took Debra to the emergency room because she had sliced, fractured and dislocated her toe. Five days ago, Debra walked into the house from her car and noticed that my eyeball was red.

We are both healing from our afflictions.

The pin in her toe has been capped with a small, white ball to prevent the pin from snagging on things. The impact of the fall caused even her big to to bruise, which can be seen just above the nail.

After the podiatrist inserted the pin, he bent it upward and capped it. The discoloration on all toes is from bruising. Antibiotic ointment must be applied at all times to the point where the pin enters the skin.

Still ugly, but I probably will not be able to use this eyeball to scare trick-or-treaters by the time Halloween gets here.

MOUNTAIN ON FIRE

While at work this morning, a couple of patients came in and told us that a fire was raging in the hills above Ashland and that homes were in danger. By the afternoon, other patients brought in reports that Roxy Ann, a mountain on the east side of Medford, was also on fire.

Perhaps related, we suffered three power surges at work today that temporarily brought down both of our linear accelerators, creating a very hectic afternoon. As I left work at the end of a grueling eleven-hour day, the air was red and smoky. Driving home, I was able to see Roxy Ann.

Roxy Ann can be seen behind a row of houses at the end of Hybiscus Street.

Roxy Ann can also be seen behind these homes on East McAndrews Road.

The next series of photos show a panoramic display of the fire and smoke as seen from the door going from the master bedroom into the back yard at our house. The first photo faces northeast and the subsequent photos are taken moving toward the northwest.

EYEBALL HEMORRHAGE

I was not aware that anything was wrong with my eye when Debra returned home yesterday afternoon from a visit with her mother. I felt an itching in my right eye, but I had not looked into a mirror.

"What happened to your eye!" she exclaimed as she entered the house.

"I don't know," I answered.

I had experienced no trauma to my eye earlier in the day. But I did spend some time pruning dead branches from a couple of blue spruce trees in our back yard. In the process, some mossy sawdust scattered in the air around me. I wore a mask to protect myself from breathing it, but did not wear protective goggles.

I probably should have.

FIRST DAY IN CHILDREN'S CHURCH

This morning was my first morning helping in the children's church. Four adults ministered to eighteen four- and five-year-olds.

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Robin, the man who leads our class, was both teacher and songleader. Donna was a helper who also had the duty of checking in the kids. Ashley, my daughter, was another helper in our class who had the additional duty of "Potty Princess". Due to our current cultural climate, men are not allowed to change diapers or take children to the bathroom. Only ministering women are allowed to minister in this specific way of ministering.

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Discriminatory? Perhaps. But I have chosen to be strong and to accept the discrimination.

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One thing I learned today was that I am still capable of sitting on the floor and getting up again about a dozen times per hour. I had to use proper body mechanics in doing so, but I pulled it off and I didn't need to take Ibuprofen when I got home.

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Another thing I learned today was that I am a faster learner than I previously thought. I picked up all the hand motions to all the songs almost immediately.

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Robin used a flannel board to teach the kids about the miraculous crossing of the Jordan River. Once the story ended, we had a craft to reinforce the lesson. Using clay, each child formed twelve small stones and placed them on a colorful background, which included a text from Joshua 4.

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Only one boy in the group was high maintenance. He didn't want his parents to leave him in the classroom in the first place. Then he continually went for the door to try to leave and had to be stopped. He spent the entire time interrupting, speaking out of turn, hogging the toys, disregarding instructions and disrupting the class.

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I unofficially appointed myself to watch over him and it pretty much turned out to be a full-time job for the entire an hour-and-a-half we were together.

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But I kinda like that kid and I hope he comes back.

800

It started out as kind of a joke, me goofing off in front of an inexpensive, thirty-dollar web camera attached to the cheapest laptop I could find at Circuit City, back when there used to be a Circuit City. I shared the link with a few friends as sort of a pre-Christmas greeting last year around Thanksgiving time. By the time Christmas arrived, a couple hundred people had viewed the thing.

I never watch it myself, but I occasionally check to see how many views have been recorded.

The last Christmas we celebrated was several months ago and our next Christmas is still a ways off. Nevertheless, a few people have been tuning in to hear what the celebration of Christmas might sound like if Bob Dylan had been the first person and the only person ever to write a song about Christmas.

Incredibly, 799 people have viewed this video as of today. The first person to click here could very well be number 800.

A VISIT TO THE E.R.

This morning I was standing in the doorway between the laundry room and the garage, replacing some weatherstripping around the door. As I placed the first screw into the strip along the hinge-side of the door, I suddenly heard a very loud and a very close "thud thunk", followed by a painful moan uttered in the voice of someone I love.

I stepped into the laundry room and discovered that, sitting on the floor, was Debra. She had slipped while stepping down from the kitchen into the laundry room. She was barefooted and she had sliced the webbing between her fourth and fifth toes on her right foot. She was bleeding and crying and trying to catch her breath.

I cleaned her cut with hydrogen peroxide and then bandaged it with a liquid bandage to stop the bleeding. Once the bleeding stopped, Debra hopped on her left foot into the passenger side of my pickup and we headed for the emergency room.

Debra's skin was deeply lacerated and her little toe was both fractured and dislocated. We were told it was an "open fracture", a fracture in which the cut extends clear to the bone. X-ray images revealed the fracture and the dislocation. The physician assistant on duty injected a local anesthetic, sutured the laceration, then attempted to pop the toe back into place.

But each time she popped the toe into place, it popped right back out of place again. So, she summoned the physician who, in turn, called in a podiatrist. The podiatrist left his home where he had been watching his favorite college team on TV and he assessed Debra's situation. The reason the toe kept popping out of joint was because the fracture had occurred precisely at the joint.

The surgical team eventually arrived and the podiatrist drilled a hole right through the tip of Debra's little toe and inserted a pin to hold it in place. Before leaving the E.R., after our five-hour visit, we were given specific rules:

1. Wear a podiatric shoe at all times, including while sleeping, for the next four to six weeks. If you accidentally kick something with the pinned toe, the pin will bend and your toe will remain forever bent.

2. Keep the foot dry at all times. Either take a tub bath with the right foot hanging over the edge of the tub, or shower with a cast protector over the injured foot.

3. Elevate the foot as much as possible.

4. Take drugs.

This solitary screw in the strip along the hinge-side of the door was as far as I got when I heard the loud and nearby "thud thunk".

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The top strip and the strip along the doorknob-side of the door will have to wait until tomorrow to be installed.

My personal priorities are as follows:

Priority #1, Take injured wife to E.R.

Priority #2, Replace weatherstripping around door.

Before stitching, the laceration cut clear to the bone.

This is how a small toe looks when it is not dislocated.

This is how a small toe looks when it is sliced, fractured and dislocated.

The x-ray image reveals that the bones in the little toe are not where they belong.

The physician assistant cleans, anesthetizes and sutures the cut.

The podiatrist positioned the toe, then drilled a pin into the tip of the toe to hold it in place.

Debra leaves the emergency room, proudly modeling her brand new podiatric shoe.

A trip to the drug store resulted in a purchase that will permit showering while keeping the injured foot dry.

Debra obeys Rule #3.

ENERGY COSTS THROUGH THE ROOF

Literally.

Right through our inadequately insulated roof.

For the past couple of years, we have had both our gas company and our power company send us monthly “averaged” bills. Since our winter energy costs were always higher than our summer costs, we thought this averaging would help our monthly cash flow.

Still, our gas bill has been averaging $160 per month and our electric bill has been averaging $185 per month, for a total energy cost of $345 every single month all year long. And those averaged amounts seem to be increasing a couple of times each year.

So, last week we had an energy inspector come out to our house for an evaluation. He referred to our gas heater as a “beast”. It is so old that replacement filters aren’t even available at Lowe’s, Wal-Mart or Fred Meyer. When I occasionally find some in stock at Ace Hardware, I buy a whole case.

So, the heater must go. But not this year.

The insulation situation in the attic, however, can be improved right away. The energy inspector told us that when he and his wife bought their house, they needed to add extra insulation to their attic. He mentioned that Lowe’s has an insulation blowing machine that they loan free of charge if you purchase their insulation. He also mentioned that he and his wife noticed an immediate reduction in their monthly energy costs after adding more insulation to their attic.

Yesterday I drove to Lowe’s and returned home with an insulation blower and ten bags of insulation in the back of my pickup.

Today I spent some quality time with the rafters above our ceiling, laboring feverishly on Labor Day.

Next month I hope to achieve “below average” status when our energy bill arrives.

Our garage with the stairs to the attic retracted.

The stairs pulled down.

Up we go to scout the terrain.

Nearing the top of the stairs, the opening into the attic can be seen in the background, to the left of the storage container.

Approaching the opening into the dark, spider-infested, bat-infested, rodent-infested attic. Well, dark anyway.

The hands-and-knees adventure starts here.

Forty-year-old, inadequate, cardboard-shredded insulation has not been keeping the temperature in our home consistent. It does not even reach the top of the 2x6 rafters in most places.

Having assessed the attic and having determined that it definitely needs more insulation, I crawl back to the opening on my way to the garage.

Christmas items stored above the garage around the pull-down stairs.

The garage floor beneath the stairs.

Down the stairs and to the home improvement store.

Only people who are not normal actually carry their cameras to Lowe's and take pictures of insulation and insulation blowers.

Ten bags of insulation, one blower and two garbage cans with blower hoses are ready to leave the parking lot.

Insulation supplies backed into the driveway of the house on Hybiscus.

The supplies unloaded into the garage.

The top of the blower removed shows the blades that chop up the insulation and blow it through the hoses.

Up close and personal.

The insulation guy is ready to tackle the project.

The insulation assistant faithfully kept the blower filled with insulation while the insulation guy stayed in the attic with the hose. When not loading the blower, the insulation assistant sat beside the blower with a pencil and a Sudoku puzzle.

The entire project took three hours.

The rafters are now completely hidden under a sea of pink fluff, but I'm not going back up there with a camera for a long, long time.