The Stories We Tell...and the Stories We Can't

As some of you have surmised from this week's scatterbrained blogging, it has been a week over here in Shafferland. It started with this g.r.e.a.t. story that happened to me on Tuesday, but unfortunately I can't blog it. You have no idea how much I wish I could. It was such a hoot and would have made THE perfect post, but alas, I fear it would be unintentionally hurtful to an involved party, and even though the chance of him reading my blog is somewhere in the neighborhood of zero percent, I can't risk it. I don't want to be hurtful. But let's just say it kicked off the week in quite a fashion.

That event (which did send my blood pressure into all sorts of realms) took place mere hours before my doctor's appointment. I think you probably know I am not a big fan of doctors. Ryan  has been asking me so kindly for months now to go get my checkup. And for months, I have respectfully declined, so finally he said, "You have to call for an appointment this week." Remembering that my vows included a promise to love, honor, and obey, I called the office. I was hoping they couldn't get me in until 2025 or so, but they had an opening this week (lucky me!) and I have been psyching myself up for this auspicious occasion.

(I wore my "fear not" and "be still" bracelets and made Ryan accompany me to the front door of the office just to get me inside. This white coat syndrome thing is no joke.)

When the doctor asked why I was there, I said, "My husband made me show up," and I don't think that's on his top ten list of frequently heard answers. He did seem genuinely puzzled by everything I said. Our conversation went (in part) like this:

Doctor: So you have no pain of any kind?
Bekah: Nope.
Doctor: No blood in your urine or stool?
Bekah: (Are we hoping for that or something?) Definitely no.
Doctor: No medications...at all?
Bekah: Nope.
Doctor: Tubal? C-sections?
Bekah: I've never been pregnant.
Doctor: Never?
Bekah: Nope.
Doctor: Do you work out?
Bekah: Yes! Often!
Doctor: Really?
Bekah: Was that not obvious????

I guess most people who come have an interesting smattering of problems, and I was boring. In the end, he decided I was healthy, and the only lecture I received was that I needed my ears cleaned out. And if I'd known he was going to poke around in them, I would have taken care of that before I went.

So that was the beginning of the week. Yesterday, the forecast called for storms throughout the day, and Ryan was sweating the fact that he'd not been able to mow our yard this week. (He's spent every evening helping out other folks at their houses.) So I decided to mow during the day while he was at work.

When we got married, we both owned push mowers, and obviously we didn't need two, so we sold mine. Ryan said he liked his better. That was fine with me, but the first time I tried to mow last year, I stopped about two minutes in to ask what in the WORLD was wrong with that thing! He looked it over and declared it fine. Between huffs and puffs, I said, "It's so hard to push! How do I turn up the propelling thing?" He just laughed and said, "Oh this isn't self-propelled."

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

You sold my wonderful mower that would drag me through the yard of its own accord, and now I have to push the daylights out of this thing?

Oh. And did I mention our yard has a hill? Looks tiny. Isn't tiny.

And so it was that I got that silly mower out, got it started on the first try (woot woot!), and spent an hour pushing that thing all over the place. It was easy at first, but after a few runs of the hill, my calves were screaming, and I remembered why I missed my beloved mower. My lines looked like the chutes on a Chutes and Ladders game, but let the record show that yard got mowed before the first of the downpours arrived.

So while Ryan ran around helping people last night, I baked him a Razzleberry pie. I figured our week warranted one. And that hour with the mower worked off my piece before I ever ate it!