Dad's Big Day Out

Since Dave and I were in NYC and DC this last week, Dad decided to spend some time with his sister at the ranch to pick apples and pine nuts and enjoy the lovely fall weather. It was a little sad to come home from our trip and not have Dad here. We're going to be so sad when his house is done and he moves out. We're still trying to convince him to build a little apartment on our property. :)

Dad called me today to let me know he was on his way home, and I was really excited to see him. Then he informed me that he thought he would probably need some stitches. He was hunting for some pine nuts on a mountainside about 15 miles north of the ranch. He decided to do some exploring downhill to search for a better hunting spot. Unfortunately, the path he was exploring was all rock (big 10 to 20 pound rocks that looked like a rock slide). He said he had the thought about five seconds before his accident that he probably shouldn't be walking down the path he was. He fell down the hill and stopped his fall partially with his left wrist and hit his head on a rock. I was so worried about him driving home I almost drove out to escort him to the hospital but he seemed lucid and okay so I just waited anxiously until he came home.

I took him to see my hubby when he got home. Dad was so brave. I was not. (I had to leave when Dave first opened the wound. Dave said I chose well when I decided to be a writer instead of a nurse.)

Dave had to probe the wound to figure out how deep the gash was and how much damage was done. Turns out Dad severed his eyebrow muscle but managed not to sever any nerves. And it came *thisclose* to the bone. Thankfully, no skull fractures.

That sucker took 16 stitches to close: 4 on the inside to repair the eyebrow muscle and 12 on the outside.

This is just me being proud of my husband's handiwork.

All stitched up!!! We got done too late to get over to the hospital to x-ray his wrist, so we'll head over there tomorrow morning and see if it's broken or not. Fingers crossed it's just a sprain! Dad's biggest regret over the incident is that he couldn't spend the rest of the day hunting for pine nuts (don't worry, he actually thought about continuing his hunt but decided against it when he couldn't get the bleeding to stop). :)

Coming out of retirement....maybe.

A year ago, I spent conference weekend at my aunt and uncle's ranch in southern Utah. This year, I'm watching it with this man:

A year ago I didn't even know he existed. It's funny how much can change in 12 short months.

A year ago, I also said I would never ever run another marathon. I was a little bit tricked into doing the St. George marathon this year and consequently had a bad attitude about the whole ordeal throughout my training. I was well aware of the pain that awaited me, never mind the fact that I was training through a St. George summer.

As the time drew nearer, I was less and less certain I was going to run the darn thing. Then, two weeks out, I rolled my ankle on a rock. I thought that was going to seal it for me. But then I got to thinking: I had never signed up for a race and not run it. I couldn't bring myself to stand at the finish line of a race I could have run. So, I found myself up and dressed the morning of October 6, standing in line for a bus to take me 26.2 miles away from home. 

My time goal was to run around 4 hours. My overall goal was to have a positive attitude throughout the race. Have fun. Push through the pain that was going to come around mile 21 and not let myself get defeated by it.  Consequently, this is what I looked like at the finish line. 

Compare that to the end of this marathon, which was only run 4 minutes faster.

Anyway, I had a great time. I felt so happy. I ran a 3:44:49. My quads were shot. My husband was smiling. I thought that maybe I could run another marathon. Someday. 

Garbage

The other day I went to grab something from underneath the kitchen sink and noticed that it was a little damp down there. I thought, "huh, maybe we have a little leak down there." I mentioned it to Dave. He said he'd look at it.

Fast forward about a month to this past weekend. That's about how long it's been since we've had a Saturday at home. I finally got the house clean and was putting the granite cleaner away under the kitchen sink when I noticed yet again that it was pretty damp under the sink. I made a mental note to look into it on Monday when I had a little more time.

Well, today is Monday. And the puddle of smelly, sludgy water under the sink reminded me that I needed to look into the dampness under the sink. What I found was not pretty: the garbage disposal had sprung a leak.

My suspicions are that it began as a small, slow leak and grew into the massive food dumping leak that it currently is. When I opened up the door and pulled out the little drawer under the sink that holds all of our cleaning supplies, I realized that there was a nice pile of water, spoiled food, and mold gracing the underside of our sink. I could not handle this on my own. I grabbed my phone to call Dave. He answered like he didn't know who it was.

"Good morning."

"It is NOT a good morning, honey."

"What's the matter?"

"The garbage disposal is broken."

"Like how broken?"

"Like spoiled mashed up food under the sink broken."

"Are you sure?"

I wished there was some sort of smell sensor that came with the iOS6 update.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Well, just leave it until I get home. I'll take care of it."

It was too late. I had already awoken the monster. I couldn't ignore the putrid moldy food smell that was now permeating what five minutes earlier I had believed was a clean kitchen.

"Can you see where the leak is coming from?"

Stupidly, I turned on the garbage disposal, sending another round of spray to join what was already there. I gagged.

"Yeah. We need to buy a new one. I'm going to Costco."

"Don't go without me. I'll take care of it when I get home."

I tried to mop up the pooling "water" and some sludge flicked out onto the floor. I threw up in the sink, which of course then made its way down to the garbage disposal.

"Are you throwing up?"

More gagging and spitting.

"Honey, meet me at the clinic in an hour for lunch. And bring the candy that's in the garage; I forgot to grab it this morning." And that was that. Had he really just left me alone on the phone while I was throwing up in the sink? I felt so abandoned. So...alone.

I went into my dad's room (who is living with us for a few months until his house here in STG is finished) and informed him that the sink was unusable until Dave could get home and fix it. I must have looked a little green because he asked if he could help. I handed him the old towel I was getting ready to use and said, "only if you really want to. He got on his hands and knees and we conquered the underside of the sink together. I hosed down the drawer outside and he wiped out the spray of moldy food. We got most of the food out and sprayed down the entire underside of the sink to disinfect it. We both left the house to get away from the smell.

I met Dave at the clinic, storm cloud over head. He hugged me, smiling, and said, "What's the matter?"

Really?

"Um, moldy food. Garbage disposal broken. Me throwing up on the phone?"

"Oh, right. I'm sorry honey. You should have just left it for me."

"You hung up on me. You hung up on me when I was throwing up." Unsaid: are you going to do this when I'm pregnant? Unsaid, but he could see the question in my eyes.

"Honey,"--the familiar look of him fighting back laughter--"I thought you wanted to go throw up somewhere other than the sink. I really did. So I thought I'd let you go take care of it. I'm sorry that I made the wrong choice." He knows I hate throwing up. He's also always doing disgusting things to get me to gag, so I knew he wasn't that sorry.

"You're not sorry." He was moving his mouth to try to keep his lips in a serious, straight line. My storm cloud got darker.

"Honey, I really am sorry that you threw up. But I did tell you to wait for me to come home. I would have dealt with it. Where do you want to go for lunch?"

Needless to say, I didn't eat a whole lot.  Being a homeowner kind of sucks sometimes.