[at-l] I'm Back Online

[PUDSCRAWLER at aol.com (PUDSCRAWLER@aol.com)]

Any of you who have experienced this will know what I mean.  Much of my down 
time is devoted to talking with you about hiking, AT, etc.  To have my 
computer whisked away in a startling moment without any say on my part was AWFUL.

I was online.  There was a bright flash and a loud clap of thunder followed 
by a sizzling sound.  I was still alive, but my computer wasn't.

The library took reservations for 30-minute segments days in advance (tourist 
season).  Who has time for that?  Other computers in town at coffee shops and 
the UPS Store cost $10.00 per session.  Computers brought to me to try did 
not work.

Life went on, but it was a drag.  Where was my hiker fix?  Where was my hope? 
 Is my psychologist available?

Then this past Sunday, daughter Belle joined friends at 6:00 AM to run a 
trail from Bear Lake to Grand Lake (20 miles, 3000' ascent and descent over the 
tundra).  I feared that she'd injure an ankle, which would be a serious damper 
on her ability to be on waitstaffs at the Stanley Hotel and the Other Side.  
(She's raising all the money she can this summer to see her through her last 
semester of grad school.)

Two exercise physiologist friends brought her back from Grand Lake in time 
for her to go to work that evening, as she had planned.  She could walk fine, 
but she'd had a fall on the descent during which she had injured her wrist.  
Maybe it was sprained.

After thought, she called into work and told them that she couldn't make it 
that evening.  Yesterday afternoon (Monday) I drove her to the doc, then drove 
her to the image people, then drove her back to the doc.  You know the drill.

Cheer-her-up jokes as she looked at the XRays.  More sympathetic remarks as 
her arm was being casted.  (No insurance, of course.)  Back home, staying out 
of her way as she called in sick again (still not telling them what happened 
that couldn't possibly have happened).

Her boyfriend called and offered "flowers."  That is, he would take her AND 
ME to see Fahrenheit 9/11.  We loved it.  He is an engineer and saw it as a bit 
manipulative.  

This morning I dodged her verbal rage and impatience as best as I could.  
(Finally brought her to a halt by telling her that she was acting as awful as a 
sick man.)  Braided her hair for her, put on her name pin for her, drove her to 
work, and waited until she came out to tell me whether she would be able to 
wait tables with lots of help from her bus boy. They said they'd give it a try.

Whew!  

Did I mention that it is her right wrist that has the Colle's fracture and 
that our car has a stick-type shift.  Yes, I'll even get to go to her classes 
down in Denver to take notes for her.  A mother's work is never done.

And you have fulfilled your duty, heaping me with many, many posts to read 
and ponder during the next week.

Thank you.

Kinnickinic