Author Archives: beth

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About beth

Ann Arbor-ite writes about enjoying life with all of its ironies and surprises.

*on the other hand.

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(not me, just a low-budget re-enactor)

when my garage door opener stopped opening

the garage door opener guy came over to check it out

his prognosis:

  it was going to need to be replaced

 it was quickly wearing out and about done.

when i asked if it was like when your grandma is slowing fading away

he said:

“grandma is dead.”

with that, he disconnected it

told me that i would acquire new muscles

opening and closing it by hand each day

until i got a new opener system.

i figured i could put it off for a few days and then deal with it

but life interfered 

as it so often does. 

this morning

as  i was headed out for the day

 i grabbed the door to close it

 but

four fingers of my hand

somehow got stuck in the folding panels of the door as i rolled it down 

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 i yelled out and quickly sprung into action

  used my other hand to open it back up 

fueled by superhuman (sort of) strength and adrenaline

to save the hand that felt like

it was being painfully crushed by an angry gorilla.

with teeth.

 on caffeine.

i saw myself in a precarious position

with no time to waste

like

james franco

in “127 hours” 

where he had to use his dull pocket knife to saw off his arm

that was wedged between boulders in order to save his own life.

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(james, before he sprung into action)

once i freed my hand

i surveyed the damage

four squeezed fingers

with deep scarlet creases

swollen and throbbing

but all parts still there

good news. 

i drove with one hand to the home improvement store

unknown

walked to the back

found a wonderfully friendly worker who turned and said

“follow me to the wall and i hope i won’t be moving too fast.”

to which i replied:

“well, you do have an advantage.”

his response –

“really? i am in a wheelchair and you are walking on two legs.”

okay, so yes. 

didn’t think of that.

put my little mishap into perspective.

he turned and smiled and said:

“i’m  just kidding, but i am in a wheelchair.”

yes.

and that was it

he was great

we talked about his kids and school and teaching and accidents

the new stuff is ordered and the guys will be here this week to put it all in.

in the scheme of things

not too bad

not like the time i broke my toe dancing in the house and kicked the bathroom door when leaping.

or the time i sprained my foot playing family extreme badminton barefoot.

or the time i got my fingers caught in the hand mixer

when i was trying to pull out the beaters and it was still plugged in. 

or the time i_______ (fill in the blank here numerous times)

no, not like those times. 

but i’m thinking i should maybe ask for a pocket knife for mother’s day.

–

*disclaimer: this blog post was written with my ‘other hand’ and i am not responsible for errors.

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“they’re funny things, accidents. you never have them till you’re having them.”
― a.a. milne

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credits: fox searchlight films/127 hours, lowes, google images

refreshed.

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waking up in the irish hills looking out on the frozen lake 

after a night spent bringing in the new year with special people.

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“in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter,

for in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.”

-khalil gibran

hope in the new year.

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“the holidays drape us in magic and give us the hope

that we can do better than we have done in the past.”
― toni sorenson

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image credit: bryan david griffith (former engineer who became a nature photographer)

observer.

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duck

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credits: terry gross – fresh air/npr radio, google images

 

 

vitals.

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glen frey the cat not the rockstar

has been rescued by me

twice now

both times from precarious situations

he was always very skittish and fearful of most everything

probably based on the traumatic experiences he’d been through

but

after the second time

he suddenly

became very affectionate

and clearly decided

that it was important

to remind me of this

each morning around 3:30

he does this in a way

that there can be no doubt

 jumping on my bed

nuzzling/pummeling me with his head

kneading everything he can find

purring loudly

circling around me

and somehow it feels like he is

an giant octopus nudging me to wake up with his head and eight hands

until i am sufficiently awake

then he finally settles in

laying on my feet

with what feels like an immovable 237 pounds or so of pure cat muscle

and promptly goes to sleep

snoring and in deep r.e.m.

maybe he thinks we are on guard duty and need to take shifts?

who needs an alarm?

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“i read that when cats are cuddling and kneading you, and you think it’s cute,

they’re really just checking your vitals for weak spots.”

-kandyse mcClure

the odyssey.

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pretzel rod, the albino leopard gecko (pre-odyssey).

 last weekend

i stayed with the grandies

while their mom and dad were out of town

and

for some reason

during the last hour i was there

the two friendly house cats

decided to make a snack out of p-rod.

i had no idea this happened until i got home and got the call:

“the cats somehow got the screen off of the top of his terrarium and ate the gecko!”

imagine how badly i felt

that the murder had happened on my watch.

grandie f had just gotten this young gecko

for his birthday 6 weeks ago and was very sad.

he had replaced pretzel,

the tiny, twisty snake who was let go in the backyard.

the next day i picked him up at school and we planned

to make a memorial stone for pretzel rod to put in the garden.

we talked for a while about love and loss and pets and nature.

imagine my surprise when i got a call late that night that he had been found!

he must have crawled into the boys’ dirty laundry

which was on their bedroom floor

to escape the cats

hid out for 24 hours

 then was scooped up

 unknowingly

 put in the washing machine

with the laundry

where he was washed, rinsed and spun.

what?!

he had survived

a feline attack

a day in smelly boy pants

fear

starvation

and

waterboarding?

he was washed, spun and rinsed

but there he was

sitting on the bottom of the washer

and after all of this, he was alive!

f yelled out over the phone:

“and he’s getting stronger by the minute!”

mom and dad said he looked rough and didn’t know if he’d make it

but he was indeed alive.

my task the next day was to get him some special treats

wax worms

(the big macs of the lizard world)

from the pet store to see if he would eat.

sure enough, he had some dinner

the first he’d eaten in a few days.

hopefully he’s on the mend

and we won’t have to go through a ‘second death’.

he looks a little lighter in color,

has some bite marks from the cats,

and doesn’t move as much

but he is alive and that is amazing.

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“it is not the strongest or the most intelligent who will survive but those who can best manage change.”
― leon c. megginson

last days.

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“your modem has seen its last days.”

these are the words

that two different

comcast/xfinity customer service phone helper elves

uttered to me

when i read them the 267 digits and a couple of random letters

imprinted on the back of my modem

and described

what it was/was not doing

is this grim prognosis part of the script?

we then went through

a series of modem exercises

as a last ditch effort

to try to revive it

all were hit or miss

all to no avail

until it was confirmed

at last

that it had indeed

passed on

so

 we scheduled an appointment

to have an elf come and remove the old one

to replace it with

a new, younger and more glamorous model

though we had no history

and i feared it would never be the same.

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“technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards.”

-aldous huxley

the village.

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the old mill, a boarding house, the glass lake, the stone bridge,

santa and his team, pine cone evergreens and the christmas tree

at my cottage 2016

—

once again

i was so excited to put out

 the remaining pieces

of the tiny village that my irish grandfather built

way back in the depression

when had become an american citizen

he was an architect by trade

as was his father

 he built this village by hand to exact scale

using

tiny stones

and

little sticks

and

heavy papers

with

incredible attention to every detail

all built

to share with us at the family christmas

i have very early and very fond mémories

of it placed on a big white board

with penciled in numbers for placement

so that every piece was in its place

beneath our christmas tree

with  lights installed underneath

 each building lit up inside

when it got dark outside

 a train ran around the village

it was covered in sparkly cotton snow

 it was so wonderful

i thought it would come to life at christmastime forever

 then it was lost for a long, long while

 i didn’t see it anymore

until

one day i saw its box out by the curb

waiting to go out with the trash

  during a very bad divorce between my parents

i would recognize its box anywhere

 i was lucky that i rescued it just in time

 only a few buildings and a few accessories remained intact

my siblings and i divided up what was salvageable

now i love to set up my own little section of his village each year

i think of how magical it was to see it all together as a child

i wonder what inspired him to create this wonderful village

i wonder where he got the ideas for each building

 i wonder how many buildings there were once upon a time

one of my buildings has the number 9 written inside in pencil

in my ‘umpa’s’  very neat and precise handwriting

 i wish i knew more of the story of the village

i wish i could ask him

no one remains who knows these answers

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a couple of old photographs of parts of the village that i found in the original box

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“i call architecture frozen music.”

-johann wolfgang von goethe

christmas physics.

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a circle in motion will continue

until someone crashes into a tree or can’t breathe from laughing too hard.

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it is possible for one conga line to travel in two different directions at the same time. 

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“the new physics provides a modern version of ancient spirituality.

in a universe made out of energy, everything is entangled; everything is one.”

-bruce lipton