No significant abnormalities

The mystery is solved. You may recall that about a month ago I was having trouble getting a doctor's appointment scheduled, that they kept calling and cancelling on me, first telling me that they didn't know the doctor was going to be on vacation, and then calling back and telling me that her vacation had been extended.

I finally had the appointment on Thursday, and I had already decided that I wasn't going to ask her how her vacation went, in case it had been something not fun, like having surgery. But she brought it up, in the context of explaining why I had to wait almost two hours after my appointed time to see her, and told me that she just got back from Kazakstan, where she and her husband had adopted two orphans, 11 and 12 years old.

I asked her how many children that makes, and she said they now have five--I didn't ask how many were adopted. I think that's truly admirable, and certainly something that I would never be able to do. She said they don't speak a word of English, and neither her nor her husband speak Russian, so they're currently in the process of finding a bilingual caregiver for the summer. Talk about a full plate . . .

After the ob/gyn visit I had a mammogram appointment scheduled, which I just barely made, since I had to wait so long at the doctor's office. But it went smoothly, no problems, and I got the notice today that it was normal, although they don't make any commitments, just say something like, "no significant abnormalities observed."

I had decided when I scheduled both of these appointments that it would make sense to schedule both of them on the same day and just take the whole day off work. When I realized that Monday was a holiday, it seemed to make sense to go ahead and take Friday off, too, which would give me five days off in a row.

Bob met me for lunch on Thursday after all the doctor stuff, and I went out and ran a few errands, but didn't have anything in particular that had to be done right away, and didn't feel much like staying out, so I ended up going home mid-afternoon. Yesterday was the big day--I had a list of things to get done. I went to JoAnn to buy some wool to make the kitties a catnip mouse (more pictures at Knitting Zen), then to PetSmart for the catnip.

While I was there I wanted to get some birdseed, and ended up buying a new finch feeder, as well as a really gorgeous glass hummingbird feeder.

The feeder was the last one, packed in a compartmentalized box with a space for each one, and not marked individually. Which I didn't notice--I just noticed that the price marked on the box was $7.99, which seemed like a good deal. So when I got up to the register, the clerk of course didn't know how much it was, and needed a number anyway. So he sent someone back to look. I told him that that was the last one, but that there was an empty box, but he obviously didn't even look at all, he just ran into someone back in that department who told him to tell the clerk to charge me $11.99.

I told the clerk that the box was marked $7.99, and he just basically shrugged, so I told him I didn't want it for $11.99, paid for my other purchases, then went back and got the box and carried it up so he could scan it so I could buy the feeder. What a pain. I suppose I should have done that in the first place.

Then I went to the nursery, where I bought a couple of white geraniums for the front stoop, a really pretty pink and green caladium, two tiny euonymus bushes, two different varieties of ajuga, some lemon thyme, some gorgeous purple clover (yes, I know it's probably a weed, I love it anyway), and something else I can't remember . . . Oh! Lilies of the Valley--I just went out and looked. I had a great time. I spent more than I intended, although not all that much for what I got. I love wandering around the nursery.

The only aggravating part of it was that, while they used to have small wire shopping carts, they've replaced most of them with those humongous orange plastic ones, but haven't widened the aisles at all. And most of the aisles tend to dead-end, so only one cart can fit down them at a time, and in order to get out everyone behind you has to back up . . . So there was a lot of backing up, a lot of maneuvering and trying to get past people, and trying not to run over someone's toes while you were making a three-point turn in the geraniums. But all's well that ends well, and I got home with a bunch of lovely plants that will probably get put into pots and the ground sometime tomorrow.

Bob had spent the day out at John's fishing and getting a boat and trailer fixed up (or something, I'm not terribly clear on all of that stuff), and started home in the early evening. He called me from the highway to tell me that while he was driving, something had hit his windshield and shattered it--he wasn't sure what it was, whether it was a rock thrown up by a car or truck, or whether someone had thrown something, although since he wasn't going under an overpass or bridge, I doubt anyone could have thrown something hard enough to do this much damage:

My heart just leapt into my throat when he said that. He was obviously okay, since he was talking to me, but it could so easily have been tragic. Whatever it was could have gone through the windshield and hit him, or the shock could have caused him to run off the road. But none of those things happened, he kept a cool head, and just drove on home, although he said he felt pretty well shaken up. And no wonder.

Fortunately, the windshield didn't completely shatter (which I guess is why they call it "safety glass"), but you can see a lot of little pieces of glass on the dashboard. The lightbulb image in the picture is the reflection of the garage lightbulb in the windshield.

It didn't happen right in front of his face, which was also fortunate, since I'm not sure what he would have had to do in order to see to drive.

I called the insurance company last night, and one of the questions was (as they're trying to determine whether or not the damage can be repaired), "Can the crack be covered by a dollar bill?" Um, no.

So, quite a weekend so far. And I've got a cold. Bob came home from out of town on Monday night with a cold, and despite his best efforts at not giving it to me, it was pretty much inevitable, I imagine. I guess I should be thankful I have three more days in which I don't absolutely have to do anything, and in which I plan to sleep, read, and knit, never a hardship.