Union tour

 Noah has been at the union, taking welding classes this week.  He was supposed to bring Mike home after work because his union is very close to Mike's work.  Noah's tire went flat and his spare needs fixed, so I ended up picking up Mike from work and then we both went to the union to pick up Noah and wait with him for the tow truck.  His welding instructor and a head honcho were waiting with Noah when we got there, so we got to meet them, and his teacher told us how well Noah's doing and that he'll probably be one of their certified welders.  Then they offered to give us a tour of the whole place.   

Noah's welding booth.  #10.

His welding instructor.  

Classroom

Blueprint room

Math

Noah's tool box.

I'm back!

8 days ago, a bad thing happened and I ended up in the ER getting staples in my head and a tetanus shot in my arm.  The next day, everything hurt, and I barely got out of bed.  In fact, all of last week, I pretty much stayed in bed and felt weak and defeated and unreasonably scared to do anything.  By the end of the week, I was out of bed and doing a few things, but not much.

Today I'm getting the staples removed, and I'm full of confidence and ready to get back to living again.  I did my 15 sets of stairs for the first time in a week, as I listened to my friend's theme song, which is so inspiring if you really listen and think about it and believe it.  I'm heading back to the gym on Wednesday after the doctor clears me today.  Going to tackle some body clutter while tackling the cluttered school room in our house.  Time to get rid of the school supplies and extra stuff we don't use anymore and get these poor abused walls painted.  

Here's the song.  It's called "Champion":

I’ve tried so hard to see it Took me so long to believe it That You’d choose someone like me To carry Your victory Perfection could never earn it You give what we don’t deserve And You take the broken things And raise them to glory You are my Champion Giants fall when You stand Undefeated, every battle You’ve won I am who You say I am You crown me with confidence I am seated in the heavenly place Undefeated with the One who has conquered it all Now I can finally see it You’re teaching me how to receive it So let all the striving cease This is my victory When I lift my voice and shout Every wall comes crashing down I have the authority Jesus has given me When I open up my mouth Miracles start breaking out I have the authority Jesus has given me You are my Champion Giants fall when You stand Undefeated, every battle You’ve won I am who You say I am You crown me with confidence I am seated in the heavenly place Undefeated by the power of Your name I am seated in the heavenly place Undefeated with the One who has conquered it all

It's tough out there!

I knew there was supposed to be wind, rain, sleet, and snow today, but I had errands to do.  This morning I was watching the weather and trying to decide if I was going to do my small essentials run involving one stop in Morton or my bigger run involving 4 stops in East Peoria.  The sky was looking bright at 9 a.m., so I decided to go for the big run.  I would have left earlier, but my last stop was Costco, which inconveniently doesn't open until 10:00.  I was almost to my first stop when the rain started, just a sprinkle.  As I was about to pull into a decent parking spot, an old man cut me off and stole it.   By the time I came out 15 minutes later, it was a steady rain, and my car was way out there.

My next stop was gas, but the only available pump was on the end, and the rain was horizontal by that time, so I got drenched.  Next stop: Aldi.  For some reason, I usually lose my head at Aldi.  I've locked my keys in my car there several times.  Maybe it's that extra step of having to remember to bring a quarter for the cart that overloads my brain.  So today, I actually said out loud to myself, "Do not lock the keys in your car. Don't even lock the car.  No thieves are out in this weather."  Credit card? Check. Quarter for the cart? Check. Bags for the groceries? Check.  I felt like I was forgetting something, but my mind had shifted focus to not locking the car.  

By the time I got inside, the wind had plastered my wet hair to my face so hard that I actually had to pry it away so I could see.  The first thing I saw was a fellow shopper glaring at me with apparent hatred.  I smiled at her and carried on, thinking she must be mad about the weather.  Not my fault and nothing I can do about it. In the next aisle, another shopper stared and glared.  I started wondering why everybody was directing their anger towards me.  Then a guy pulled down his mask to yell at me about not wearing a mask.  Ah yes, that was the thing I forgot when I was doing my checklist in the car.  Fortunately, I always have a mask in my pocket...except this time, because I had decided at the last minute to break out my warm coat for this trip, and it's the first time I've worn it since the pandemic, so no mask in my pocket.  I should have left my plastered hair mask on.  I got out of there as quickly as I could, after a couple more mean encounters.

On the way to Costco, something unbloggable happened that would necessitate going straight home for a shower and load of laundry. When I got home, I was lugging the groceries in, which were all as soaked as I was, and there was Marty, standing in the way, asking to go outside.  I explained to her about the weather, but she still insisted, so I spelled it out for her.  I said, "You are N-O-T, not, going outside today." Apparently, she's not a phonetic learner, because she proceeded to dart between my legs and charge outside.  Two seconds later, she wanted in.  

I could have just done my one Morton stop earlier in the morning and avoided the whole fiasco, since I didn't even end up getting to go to Costco. I have to go back out there again when Mike gets home, because I have to take him to pick up his parents' car.  

I did a weird thing, or two

Last summer when I was working for the Census Bureau, one of my favorite stops was at an apartment in Hopedale.  The resident was beautiful, inside and out, and invited me in on one of the hottest days of the year.  I gratefully sat on her apartment floor, sucking up her air conditioning and playing with her cat, while trying to force myself to do my job and get out of there.  

The cat repeatedly threw itself against a brushy-looking thing on the floor, and I asked the friendly owner what it was doing.  She explained that the brush used to be part of a toy but that the cat rubbed itself so violently against it that it broke, but the cat still likes to rub on it.  Eventually, the cat (Lily) stopped flopping and settled itself in my lap, making it that much harder to do my job and leave.  I stayed there at least three times longer than it took me to do a good, thorough job, but the woman and the cat were both so hospitable and sweet, unlike the majority of my cases.  

The next day, I searched online for cat toys with that kind of brush.  I found a nice, sturdy one at a store in Iowa, and it just so happened that Mike and I were headed west for a road trip and would be going right by this store.  On our way home from our trip, I was driving and Mike was sleeping when I spotted the sign for this store and pulled off the interstate to go in there and get this cat toy for Lily.  

Fast forward six months.  I'm not sure why it took me so long to deliver this thing, but here it is, still sitting around here.  I think I was putting it off because I thought it would be weird and awkward for the census worker to show up with a cat toy, and because I didn't remember exactly where her apartment was.  I guess I thought it would be somehow less weird, awkward, and uncertain six months later?

So today's the day.  The sun is shining. It seems like a nice day for a drive, so I load up the toy (which is more of a grooming tool and play tunnel)

and head for Hopedale with only a vague idea where she lives, no recollection of her name, no clue what I'm going to do if she's not home, no plan of what I'm going to say, and an unreasonable feeling of nervousness.  I'm rewarded with this view as I get on the interstate:  

I arrive in the thriving metropolis of Hopedale, and only make one wrong turn before I find what I'm 99% sure is her apartment building.  But there are several apartments in a row, and I'm not at all sure which one is hers.  So I park and study each one, looking for clues.  The one that I have a good feeling about also happens to have a cat suncatcher stuck to the window, so that's the one I'm choosing first. 

I knock on the door, holding the big brush tunnel and feeling ridiculous.  No answer.  I move to the next apartment and knock on that door, feeling more ridiculous by the moment. What am I going to say to the stranger who opens this door and sees me holding this monstrosity?  No answer at this door either, but suddenly a window opens at the last apartment, and in it appears a woman wearing nothing but a towel, but I'm pretty sure I recognize that beautiful smile and friendly tone as she says, "Hello?"

I say, "Um, hi" and hope that by some miracle she says, "Hey, aren't you that census worker who sweated on my floor six months ago?" but she shows no sign of recognition, so I'm going to have to speak again.  Timidly, I try this brilliant line: "Do you have a cat?"  She looks confused and says, "Yes, I have a cat....?"  I hold up the brown monstrosity and say, "Does it have a broken toy, kind of like this?"  She says, "Yes...." so I say, "I worked for the Census Bureau last summer and remembered your cat, and so I bought it a new one."  Her eyes (and her smile) widen, and she exclaims, "I'll be right out!"  

Moments later, she's dressed and at the door and ushering me in to see Lily.  I put myself and the thing on the floor in front of Lily and direct all my comments to her.  She sniffs it and rubs it and seems grateful.  I pet her for awhile, and her owner, whose name I still don't remember and stupidly forget to ask, expresses her gratitude and offers to pay me for the brushy thing.  That's how nice she is.  Obviously, I refuse her offer and stand up to go.  She asks me if I do hugs, which I most certainly do, so she squeezed me tight and thanked me again and I left.  She stood in the door waving at me as I drove away.

As long as I'm doing one weird thing, I figure I might as well do two, so I stop at a lovely cemetery on my way out of town.  I'm fascinated with cemeteries and could (and do) spend hours in them. 

So many sad things. 

This headstone is so old and weathered that nobody can even read what it says anymore. 
No record of who lived and died and was buried in this spot.

Sadder still are the ones that have crumbled away to barely a nub.
A person's body is buried under here, and this is all that's left to mark the spot.  

But the saddest ones for me are always the babies.
Their tiny little tombstones, some of them with only "infant" as the name. 
Charlene got her name on hers. She missed her first birthday by a day, maybe only a few hours?
"Budded on earth to bloom in heaven".  I like that, and I ponder it a long time. 
Charlene just had a birthday, and even though she died over 60 years ago,
I notice that someone has put new flowers on her grave.

Then there's this one.  I really like this one.  The woman buried under here died when she was only in her 20s.  I imagine someone sitting on this cold, hard, concrete chair for hours, grieving the loss of this young woman.  I sit on it as I ponder her.  It's surprisingly not as uncomfortable as it looks. 

I would like to stay longer, but the sun is going down and it's getting cold, and I'm not dressed for it.  Maybe I'll come back another time.