Best laid plans? Yeah, that would be yesterday. A morning of running errands with The Commander ended with lunch at Clyde’s Drive-In, then the grokkery store, and finally out to the cabin, where we expected to while away the afternoon tinkering with various little prodjects (intentionally misspelled) and slugging around on the beach. All the usual stuff. Problem. The Commander didn’t really feel quite right all of a sudden. She was having just a wee bit of trouble getting enough air. Hmmm… The Commander is healthier than a lot of folks *my* age and has absolutely no history of respiratory problems whatsoever so, with little ado, we formed a little expotition (also intentionally misspelled — think Winnie the Pooh here) into the ER at good old War Memorial.

They wasted no time triaging her into an ER room where they performed just about every test under the sun and then some. Nothing. Well except for just a wee bit of crackling in one of the lungs. I forget which. Eventually we were bounced out with a prescription for an antibiotic. The Comm was in fine form by then and was talking the ears off of everyone who came in the room, MacMullan Blindsides left and right. Oh, you don’t know what a MacMullan Blindside is? Well. It is when you are having a perfectly rational conversation with The Commander about, oh I dunno, say mushrooms and all of a sudden, she is talking about great aunt Maude’s underwear and you are still talking about mushrooms and you can’t figure out when or why she shifted gears. Anyway, because Fin Family Moominbeach is in the land of the midnight 10 o-clock sun at this time of year, we got back out to the cabin in time to enjoy the last couple hours of daylight over a barbecued chicken dinner cooked by the GG, who I booted out of the ER a couple hours before we left because he was getting a little antsy with The Commander’s cudgel.

I knew she was totally on the mend this morning when I heard myself ending one of those psychologically draining kinds of conversations that baggy old bags like me have with their mothers, maybe you know the kind, by saying something like, “I have my own darn money and my own darn vee-hickle and if I wanna buy bathroom cleaner, I’m gonna go buy bathroom cleaner.”

And now for a little multiple choice question: Why will KW get in trouble for posting this blahg entry?

a) Because she posted about taking The Commander to the ER.
b) Because she posted about MacMullan Blindsides.
c) Because she posted that bit about the bathroom cleaner conversation
d) All of the above.

Signing off from the Green Guy Cafe, where I am currently stealing broadband wi-fi internet. -Kayak Woman.

No that photoooo is not taken in a morgue. I think it looks a little like one (er, not that I’ve ever been in one). But it is inside the vault at the 1st National Bank. You know the one. It’s where Jesus saves.

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