Last night, Jay had to go out of town. It wasn’t a business trip, and it didn’t sound like it was much fun…but it was necessary. He had an appointment at a sleep clinic to be tested to see if he has sleep apnea. I’ve been concerned about this for a while, since I noticed that he appears to stop breathing periodically during sleep. (That’s the definition of sleep apnea).
While surfing the internet today, I came across Virtual ScratchPad. Matthew Sheffield, the blog’s author, has described a simple way of putting categories into Blogger. See his postfor complete instructions, code and information. This looks like a good approach if you have not yet implimented categories on Blogger, and would like to do so.
For some time, I have read a number of online computing newsletters. Among them is Inforpackets Gazette, by Dennis Faas. Doug, my collaborator on The Handicapped Computerist, also reads Infopackets. Yesterday, I returned from lunch to find an IM from Doug: “E-MAIL”. He had sent me a copy of an e mail he received from Dennis, who has invited interested bloggers to participate in writing articles for inclusion in Infopackets. Doug responded to that invitation by telling Dennis about “HC” (our shorthand for The Handicapped Computerist), and Dennis has invited us to be contributors! Both Doug and I are very excited to be asked to contribute to Infopackets. If you’d like to subscribe, it’s free, and you will find much useful and informative content, along with files to download, if you enjoy trying new programs.
…and this is one guest I don’t want to see; Katrina was bad; Rita looks as bad or worse as she is already a Category 5 storm. Our family will be okay I think (although we expect some rain, flash flooding that is not unusual for the area) and some high wind.) I just spoke to Barbara, a good friend who lives in Corpus Christi with her sons and her mother and other family members. Barbara and company are leaving tomorrow morning early for Dallas; I told her if they need to stop and rest, they can do so here. I really feel badly for all of the Louisiana evacuees who came to Texas because of Katrina; some of them are being forced to move yet again because of Rita’s threat.
I freely admit to being a very organized person. I liked keeping track of things on paper in the “old” days; I carried my planner everywhere I went for a long time. Now I’ve moved things to my computer, but old habits die hard, and I have my new, personal web pages to help me stay sane these days. One of the features I wanted in my personal pages was a calendar, to help keep track of important dates and appointments. I wanted a calendar that looks sharp, is easy to use, and can be customized and easily edited. Just by the way, it would be nice if it didn’t cost mega-bucks. Doug found the perfect calendar package for my needs.
I’ve finally finished re entering the data into my rolodex software, and while I was about it, I put the data into my personal pages’ address book page. I am so happy to have that task off my to-do list. It was on the list for a long time, and I got tired of looking at it.
I created a table for the address book page, and I must say, it does look professional. Doug helped me sort out a few issues with the table’s code, and we got it working well last night.
I spoke to my Dad this morning. He said he had a good night, without much pain until he woke this morning, then a pain pill took care of the appreciable pain he did have then. He said he will be able to go back to his usual activities in a day or two, according to his doctor; he has to see the doctor again in a week to ten days. He just about made my day when he told me he and my mom went out to eat last night. That, more than anything, tells me his having the surgery was a good thing to do. He really will feel much better once he finishes the recovery process.
I called to speak to my dad yesterday; he had loaned us a small television set sometime ago, and I wanted to ask if I could donate it to some Hurricane Katrina evacuees who are settling here. My dad was not home, but my mother answered the phone. in the course of our conversation, she tol d me that my dad is going to have surgery tomorrow to have one of his eyes removed. He has been blind in that eye since he was a small child, so it’s not like he’s losing anything functional. He’s having it removed because he keeps having painful infections that will not clear, and he’s been using eye drops to control the pain up to now and finally decided just to have it removed. Still, I’ve had eye surgery myself, and I know what it’s like. Plus, my dad is a senior citizen, and while he will likely be okay, anything could potentially happen. I did get hold of him last night, and when asked hoow he is, he said he is fine, and is not scared “because the good Lord will take care of this.” He has peace about it. I just keep thinking about all the times he was with me in the hospital whan I was a child and later when I was grown. One time, I had a small surgical procedure, and he stayed with me until I sent him home at 2:30 AM. Told him it was silly for him to stay just to watch me sleep, and to go home and rest.
He’s always had a strong work ethic, has my dad; he told me he plans to be back working within a week or so after the surgery. He will eventually have an artificial eye, but there will be a blank shell at first while he heals. I am not pleased with being given the news about the surgery a scant 48 hours before the procedure; I’ve had no time to prepare for this on an emotional level; while the logical level says it will likely be fine, emotionally it’s difficult. Communication skills have never been strongly emphasized in my family of origin; this is just the latest illustration of that. I will be working at home tomorrow so that I can stay near the phone.
I received the following piece in my e mail from the Inspiration List. It’s too good not to share:
“Live in such a way that those who know you but don’t know God will
come to know God because they know you.”
- Anonymous
The Escalator Angel
The crisp February morning chilled the crowd that waited to catch the
MARTA, Atlanta’s public rail system. When the train arrived, I moved
with the others toward vacant seats. Mechanical sounds punctuated the
trip: the humming of electric motors and the loud bell before the
doors slid shut.