Saturday, August 17, 2019

The Big Recall

Here's a little more info on the recall.  It is a NATIONWIDE recall, not just California.  That means someone is going to pay out a huge chunk of money.  I've no idea if it is Cummins or the company who made the part in the first place.  The SCR catalyst they installed on ISC and ISL engines in model years 2010 through 2012, does not meet FEDERAL standards.
So it's not just California, it's everywhere.  They have a list of those SCR catalyst part numbers.  If you got lucky with the draw and have one of the good numbers listed, you are exempt.  If not, your part must be replaced.  The cost (around $4,000 they said) will be to Cummins, NOT me.  I don't have to pay at all.

Here's an interesting note ... it's affects both Canadian and U.S. sold vehicles, 365 horsepower and higher.

If I moved to Arizona, the licensing fees for my rig would be just the same as California.  I may even have to have it smogged every year.  As of now, I have never been required to get a California smog certificate in the 8 years I've owned it.  As far as vehicles go, it seems Arizona has more stringent rules than California.

The difference in this case is that California is requiring proof that you had that part replaced before giving you your license tags.

Dan says if you live in the city of Tucson, you must have your vehicle inspected (smogged) every year.  In California, my diesel truck and my Jeep only get smogged every OTHER year.  So it looks like in some cases, parts of Arizona are more stringent than even California.

I'm hoping when I take it down on Tuesday morning, that I'm one of the lucky ones, even if it looks like I drew the short straw.  You never know ... I just might get REAL lucky!!  I'll keep you posted.





Friday, August 16, 2019

Luck Of The Draw

As with lots of things in the world today, your luck of the draw brings you favor with all things mechanical.  My luck has never been all that good.  That lottery ticket I found on the floor got me zero, zilch ... nada!

So when it comes to really big things, like this recall for my rig, I do everything I possibly can to stack the odds in my favor.  Not that it helps, but at least I tried.

Yesterday on the way home from visiting friend Pat at her spectacular house on the other side of Tucson, Patty and I stopped in at the second Cummins repair shop.  Although they weren't very helpful with the first phone call, I really wanted to check them out.  Surely SOMEONE there would know what I was talking about.
The Service Advisor gal wasn't very helpful.  I'm pretty sure she just didn't get enough sleep the night before.  After trying to explain everything to her, she finally went and got her Shop Foreman.  More explanations ensued ... like I knew what I was talking about, which I didn't ... and he finally said WAIT HERE.

He actually went to a computer and printed out the actual recall notice repair specifications.  Alrighty!  Now we're talking!  He said they simply had to check the part number on my engine (wherever that might be located) and if it was the RIGHT number, I would get a certification and be on my way.  If it's NOT the right part number, then they would have to order a new one for a total cost of $4,000 (ARE YOU KIDDING ME?) and install it at no charge.

It's all in the luck of the draw folks.

I made an appointment for Tuesday, canceling the previous appointment with the other shop.  This place is much bigger, with lots of bays, hopefully certified mechanics and security.  I hit the jackpot in that respect.  Now if I can just hit the jackpot with the right part number, I'll be in like Flynn.

IF California requires a certified copy, I will have all the valid paperwork to show them.  The form says MAY REQUIRE, which in Californiaese means YES, send in all the paperwork.

To celebrate, since I spent a fortune at Costco (do you ever get out of there for under $200?) I barbecued some pork loins.  I even put them on my fancy dancy expensive $25 plastic plate.  The zucchini was relegated to paper.
Lookie here George!!  The first time EVER that I cooked it perfectly with a little pink still left in the middle (I actually read George's instructions).  My gosh it was tender.   I can't believe it came out so good.  There's no smothering THIS in sauce to make it edible!
I'm still waiting for some cool.  My luck of the draw hasn't been so good in that respect.  It was up to 107 yesterday in Tucson.  A horse trough swimming pool is looking better and better.




Thursday, August 15, 2019

Selective Catalyst Reduction ... WHAT?

Don't you just love it when you get a recall notice?  I always cringe.  Where I'm from there are few repair places that can take care of it.  The last time it was about the steps.  They might fall off, or maybe close when you were standing on it, I can't remember for sure.  Luckily I had the steps with the right name emblazoned on the edge, so I did NOT have a problem.

The time before that it was the cruise control.  It took me several weeks to find a facility and make an appointment.  When I got there (it was over an hour away), it was a Freightliner shop that really didn't work on RV's.  They removed half of the dash, leaving scratch marks everywhere, before determining all they had to do was lay down and look up under the steering wheel.
This latest one is from Cummins.  "Your engine may be releasing air pollutants which exceed California and Federal standards."  I know I should care, but I don't.  It has become a ridiculous problem with lots of time and effort to get this taken care of.

I might ignore it, except California will not renew my license tags unless I show them proof of the repair.  It's actually Federal standards that must be met, but as usual, California has gone overboard.

I looked up repair shops.  First off was RWC, the place LaMesa RV takes many of their rigs requiring repair.  They had not heard of the recall.  After two phone calls, they decided I would have to bring it in so they could see what it was about and possibly get a part number, then bring it back for repairs.

I looked up Freightliner's repair shops to find several bad reviews.  Hmmmm maybe I don't want to go there.  I finally called the number on the letter for "assistance in locating your nearest Cummins certified service location".

At long last I contacted a very nice Cummins guy who actually knew what I was talking about.   Here's the deal.  I have to take my coach in and leave it.  They will completely remove the exhaust system in order to find the number on the part that needs to be replaced.

Why leave it?  Because apparently there were four or five different parts placed on different models and years.  No information is available to tell them which part I need.  They will then ORDER the part, which takes four days to get.  Once received, they can replace the old with the new and put the exhaust system back together.  Really?  Why don't manufacturers use the same part in all of the rigs they make?

I know I should have confidence and faith in the repair shop, but I don't.  Yesterday, I made a quick trip downtown, so I wandered over to the Cummins shop to see where it was.  It's in a not-exactly-nice neighborhood and is tiny compared to most truck shops.  My rig will be parked outside for the four days.

With that in mind, I removed literally everything from the bays down under and stored it in the garage.  At 103 degrees, overheating quickly set in.  Me, not the rig.  That brought about a door latch problem.  I'm not exactly an expert at these things, in fact I think I fall in the lower 18% of being even partially capable.

I spent another hour in the hot sun trying to adjust the thing so it would close and STAY closed.  I've done it before, but it's totally a shot in the dark because you can't see ANY of the mechanisms you are trying to line up.  Slam ... nope.  Adjust.  Slam ... nope.  Adjust.  At long last after many tries, it closed and held.  I went inside and sat in front of the fan for 30 minutes trying to cool off.

So Monday is the magic day.  They open at 6:00 am, so I'm hooking up the car the night before and will be heading out for the repair shop.  I'm sending lots of good thoughts into the sky in the hopes of it all coming out well in the end.



Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Horse Racing In Old Vail

It's all about the history.  This area is called the Rincon Valley, nestled up against the Rincon Mountains where cowboys of old worked cattle on big ranches.  Cienega Creek runs through here intermittently throughout the year, providing water for families and critters.  It's one of the most intact riparian corridors left in the state of Arizona.  All this I learned from the cemetery.

Back in the day of real cowboys, the pastime of the day was horse racing.  Everyone who worked cattle owned a horse or two, and they all thought they had the fastest in the West.  Bets were placed constantly on who would win.

There were two dirt tracks in the Rincon Valley and one in Vail.  One bright sunny day, two men raced neck and neck to the finish line.  There was quite some discussion about who actually won.  The cowboy who came in second, refused to pay up on his lost bet.  A fist fight ensued, ending with a gunshot.

The dead cowboy was unceremoniously buried on this nice little hill that overlooks the Old Spanish Trail, the most arduous of all trade routes from Santa Fe New Mexico to Los Angeles.  His name has been lost to history.  That was the beginning of Rincon Cemetery.
Grave sites meander along the top of the hill.  I was surprised to find so many recent burials.  It was back in 1953 when the little cemetery actually became official.  Doc Kenner from the Rocking K Ranch and his ranch hand Juan Escalante were out riding one day when they stopped in at the cemetery.  
Several graves were not marked and the barbed wire was falling down.  They thought they should make it a REAL cemetery, and so it came to be through their efforts.  Many of the local cowboys got together and built a concrete block wall around the outside, with everything donated by Doc Kenner.
There are still many graves without markers, just a few poles, rotten and falling down.  It was decided that any community member that worked on the cemetery could be buried here for free.
Although there are now a few engraved headstones, many are made from ranch materials, like these T-posts with a horseshoe.  
Soon the cemetery became a legal entity, so to celebrate, this beautiful polished metal cross was erected for all that could not afford one.  
Reginald Russell, born in 1909 and died in 1978, must have been a photographer.  There is every kind of memorial here, from carved rocks to scratches in concrete.
There is even fake grass to mark this family plot.
One of the more recent burials is this soldier.
The oldest seems to be Rafael Saenz, 1824 to 1882, along with his wife Delores, who passed in 1919.
These gates, originally from Spain, were retrieved from Chicago on a flatbed truck, driven all the way there and back by Mr. Lang.  In 1981, Miguel Escalante and several of his brothers built this ramada at the entrance.  
Unlike the last cemetery, this one is kept up very nicely.  It's actually a beautiful place to stop in and admire the Rincon Mountains to the North.  Who knew you could find out so much information from a cemetery?

Next up .... I discovered a trail right here in River City (Vail) that follows Cienega Creek many miles up into the mountains.  I'm guessing that's where all my critters like the deer and bobcat come from.  It may have to wait however, since the weather is still too hot to be hiking.  You can take all the water you want, but you will still die if you stay out in the heat.  

Mornings have been a tad bit cooler ... I'm really missing that snow about now.




Tuesday, August 13, 2019

I Think I'm 25 Again!

Remember how you used to stay up all night long and party, get to bed at 4:00 am and be up again by 6:00 because you had to go to school?  What happened to those days??

When I was working construction, I did absolutely everything!  I cooked three meals a day (including homemade tortillas), worked all day at the scales sending out hundreds of tons of dirt, bid jobs and billed everybody, not to mention doing all the books and payroll for a company of 20 employees.  Then I would go home and grow things in a huge garden, clean the house and make all handmade decorations for every month of the year.  I'd be up at 5:00 every morning and hit the bed at 11:00 at night.  How could I possibly have done all that?

Today, I'm absolutely beat if I don't get to bed by 9:00 and I grumble every morning when I get up at 4:30 with the puppies.  There's no decorating going on at all, I rarely cook (it's the magic microwave for me) and I'm exhausted by 7:00.

I guess something in my brain clicked and made me think I was 25 again.  After spending two entire days cleaning the house, I played poker until the wee hours of the morning (8:00 pm).  Cleanup took about an hour and I was regretting signing up for this 3D quilt class.
I finally got my act together, along with everything you could possibly ever need to sew squares together and headed off to the coffee klatch at Shirley's house.  Such a long drive ... it's about 100 yards around the corner to her house.  I was so tired, I drove.  

At noon, I headed off to the quilt class, taking the long route.  There's lots of construction going on around here, along with strange people that drive the speed limit, and I didn't want to be late.  I pretended I was 25 again, playing race car as I cruised along the back roads with no traffic and no stop signs.  YES!!!  I beat Mario in that game and arrived with plenty of time to spare.

It was rather hard to get my brain in gear long enough to sew my 25 pieces together, make a sandwich (quilter terms for layering all the pieces) and get it quilted.  It was even harder to work with a sewing machine I rarely use.
Here are a couple of examples of the instructor's 3D flowers.    
LOVE this one.  I may just have to make a second one with these colors.
By 4:00 when I left, the Mario Andretti in me fizzled out.  Again I took the road less traveled and made it in 35 minutes.  I plopped on the couch after feeding and taking care of the puppies.  

That didn't last long however, since I STILL thought I was 25.  I sewed 12 petals together and turned them using what else, but hemostats.  Luckily I had a pair in my geocaching bag.  Thank you Barbara and Tom Westerfield.  You never know when that stuff will come in handy.
By 7:30 I was asleep on the couch.  How can that be?  I'm 25, right???  Add to that poor baby Cooper being sick all night with three runs to the back door.  By 3:30 I gave up and made a cup of my phony coffee.  After all, I'm 25 with lots of energy and three loads of laundry to do.  Then, maybe ..... just maybe ..... you'll find me on the couch, or better yet, at that next cemetery I discovered quite by accident yesterday.




Monday, August 12, 2019

A POKER WIN!!!!!

I don't think I've ever cleaned house so much in my life.  About 64 years ago, my Mom made me Queen of Clean, in spite of my protestations.  There was nothing I hated more than dusting and vacuuming, which is why I rarely do it today.

Oh I clean, but maybe one room at a time.  Saturday, I spent an entire eight hours sucking up all the bugs and grass clippings the dogs have brought in over the last year.  Thanks to my newly repaired vacuum, I even sucked a scorpion out a crack in the mopboard.  How cool was that!!

I even went so far as to mop the kitchen and bathroom floors.  That was a mistake because I used one of those wet mop thingies, requiring ANOTHER mopping to get rid of the sticky stuff.  So much for "progress".  I wish someone would come up with a Roomba that mops.  By the way, a Roomba is on my Christmas list.

Sunday I hid all the junky stuff I keep on my tables and made a delicious cherry crisp.  What could be better than brown sugar, oats, nuts and butter, melted over luscious cherry pie filling.  I guess I blew my diet pretty good with all the sugar I ate.

I wish I would have gotten this hand, but the closest I came was five 8's, which won a nice pot.  My luck was amazingly good last night.  The crazy games we play, like night baseball, woolworths, suicide king, numbers, elevator ... the list is endless ... result in an ebb and flow of chips.
Not chips like these, which were used in the old days.  They are made of ivory and are probably worth more than what the old West gamblers bet.  We had three tables going with a total of 14 people.  I play with the girls who are all sweet enough to let your cards speak for you.  The men play Texas Hold Em.  

The pots get HUGE.  Not really, as we all only put in $5 for the night, unless you are losing really bad, in which case you can always buy more.  That's usually me ... I buy more.  Not that I'm a bad player, but I rarely get the cards.  Last night was different for a change.
We stopped for dinner, which was seven chickens I picked up at Safeway.  I would never trust my cooking, and company shouldn't either.  Believe it or not, we ate all but ONE, which I happily cut up for Cooper's next few meals.

This was me by the end of the night.  I was exhausted from two days of cleaning and moving furniture.  It was all worth it, even if I was two hours late getting to bed.  Once I got there, for some weird reason, my feet began to cramp up.  For the next two hours I did the not-so-happy dance around my bedroom trying to get it to stop.
I had a lot of fun with these really nice people, and came out a big winner.  TEN CENTS!!  I WON TEN CENTS!!!  No matter, it was worth the fun!!

I wish I could say I'll be on the couch today, but I'm heading off to Quilting With Shirley and the girls, followed by Quilting With Swan.  Yes, her name is Swan.  Who names their daughter Swan??  I signed up for this class WAY before poker was in the works.  Hopefully I can stay awake long enough to get back home, whereupon I will crash and burn.  That's okay though, cuz I have TEN CENTS to spend!!!







Sunday, August 11, 2019

Not Your Everyday Cemetery

You can learn a lot about an area by visiting their cemetery.  Kind of different I suppose, since it's not your ordinary tourist destination, but it sure will give you a connection to the local population.

In between rain storms, I wandered off with an idea of "about" where this was from checking Google Maps.  Obviously there were going to be a lot of dirt roads to traverse.  I watched the bars on my phone intently as I drove through some sketchy neighborhoods.  I didn't want to get too far out of touch with help.

Surprisingly there were lots of mobile homes stuck here and there amid the brush.  When I came upon this lovely fence post, I hesitated for just a second before continuing along the worst washboard road I've seen in awhile.  If this doesn't say get out, I don't know what does!
At the end of the road was a huge gate with an ominous sign NO TRESPASSING.  Well heck, the cemetery is right there.  I drove through and around the corner.  This is Leon Cemetery (also known as the Bravo-Leon Family Cemetery) in the middle of what used to be the Leon Cattle Ranch.
Like most cattle ranches of years gone by, they leased grazing rights for their cattle from the government.  This family had been raising beef for over 100 years in the Pantano Wash area of Vail.  It's obvious this isn't your normal cemetery, with many of the crosses and memorials made from horseshoes and metal pipes.
What happened to the ranch?  The Golf Course developer came in and convinced the government to sell them the prime property with water rights.  That was the end of the grazing rights and the end of the cattlemen.
For years, the developer didn't even give the family access to their ranch.  They had to jump a curb at the end of the golf course in order to drive home.  This is the grave of a baby, with barely room for the cross.  There are very few engraved headstones here.
Back in 1954, Charlotte married Jimmy Leon.  The only people around were ranchers from the Rocking K, the X9 Ranch, Mount Fagan Ranch and La Posta Quemada.  No freeway existed and the only buildings in Vail were a church and the little adobe building Post Office.  With no electricity, they heated water on a wood stove, used an outhouse and showered underneath a big barrel hung up in the air.
Rancho Del Lago's main house was empty in 1992 when the developer bulldozed it to the ground.  Rancho Del Lago had a racetrack, stables and cultivated fields growing lettuce and produce.  Back in the old days, if you had grazing rights, you had them forever.  Soon it became a cutthroat business and cattlemen lost those rights to the big developers with big money.

The same thing happened to our grazing permits in the south of Sequoia National Park.  Raising cattle then became so expensive, everyone went out of business, including us.  This small cemetery is all that is left, although a tiny portion of the ranch is still occupied at the end of this very long dirt road.

It's sad that no one really takes care of the cemetery.  There is trash all over, along with falling headstones.  Maybe I'll go back, clean up a little and explore their history a little more, assuming I don't get shot for trespassing.







Saturday, August 10, 2019

Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow ... Or Not!

With the Chance family home, I had to say goodbye to all the cactus and plants I babysat for the last month.  I'm going to miss their smiling faces every morning as they poked me while I watered their little roots.  It took three trips to clear out the tables.

Then it was time to say goodbye to the fish.  I'm going to miss these guys crowding around the glass every morning and night when I walk up to feed them.  Luckily my starting and ending numbers were the same.  There were no memorials held in the bathroom, although these guys are so huge they probably would have done damage to my plumbing.
Except one parting!!!  It was THAT bathroom again ... the one where I always peek around the corner and turn the light on before stepping foot on the floor, making sure there are no spiders.  I spotted a dead worm under the edge of the counter.  

Hmmmmm I almost reached down to see, until fear struck me in the heart!  IT'S A SCORPION!!!  It looked kind of funny, like it was dead.  Taking no chances, I grabbed the toilet brush as a weapon.  

STAB!!!  AHA ... I GOT HIM!!  I was so thrilled, I almost forgot to take a picture.  He started to move, so I rapped the brush on the edge of the toilet ... down to the depths you go little buddy.

OH MY GOD IN HEAVEN SAVE ME .... he flipped right off that brush, flew through the air and landed on my foot!!!  A shot of adrenaline went through me and I jumped three feet in the air.  Stab stab STAB  as he scurried across the floor.  Finally, he was again impaled.  No, I'm NOT taking him outside.  I very carefully tapped the rim of the bowl this time and deposited him in the drink.  FLUSH ... and he was gone.  Parting was ever so sweet.
After THAT lovely morning wakeup, I planted myself on the couch with the door open to the back yard, listening to the nice rain.  It almost cooled off for a few minutes there.  It was time to plan a route to that cemetery.  It seems it is at the end of a very long dirt road with lots of twists and turns.

In the meantime, I was able to snag these images from my camera.  More of the spectacular sunsets of Arizona.  I also mowed the lawn.  It took thirty minutes including two breaks to cool off.  The desert can be hot, but then you knew that.  I'm looking forward to the parting of summer ... no sweet sorrow there.

Every single night I look out the sliding glass doors to see beauty like this.  It makes you happy to be alive.
Parting IS sweet sorrow as the sun goes down and the colors turn to black.
It's clean house day as I vacuum up all that Jessie dog hair and hide all the flotsam and jetsam I leave out on the counters every day.  I will double check that bathroom to be sure there are no more critters lurking around before the poker players show up tomorrow.  

It's going to be cloudy all day with rain coming in again around 3:00.  I think summer is finally on it's way out.  Trouble is, that means all the critters will be on their way in as rain floods their homes.  No problemo ... my toilet bush is at hand!!





Friday, August 9, 2019

Nature Mimics Me

Sometimes it's just jaw dropping, the colors that Mother Nature can produce.  This was yesterday's sunrise ... not sunset ...  that really early time in the morning when I'm outside with the puppies breathing in the humid Arizona air after hearing raindrops on the roof.
No thunder, no lightning and no Vail gale blowing things wildly around the back yard.  Just the peaceful beauty of the sun coming up.  Okay, enough of that as I stubbed my toe on the way back in.  OUCH!!!  Gosh that hurt, but at least not as bad as the original ouch.
I do have to say though, that Mother Nature is mimicking the colors in my extremity.  Yup .. there's those same shades of purple, pink and black, along with a few streaks of yellowish red.  
Once the pain subsided, I got to work on the tile.  I can tell you that grouting is NOT as easy as they make it look on TV.  Oh it was easy to get in the cracks alright, in spite of the fact the cracks were not as even as I would have liked.  

It was the sponge cleanup that went awry.  This being rather old tile, the grout didn't want to come off easily.  What a mess THAT was.  An entire roll of paper towels later, it is finally acceptable, although the super white grout (it's really off-white) is rather stark against the old dirty stuff.  

The pieces laying at the bottom are the old "top" pieces that I've been trying to replace.  In spite of three trips to town, I've yet to come up with enough pieces of anything to cover the top edge.  I'll keep looking.  No, the grout lines do not match up.  That wasn't a priority on the original job.
In other good news, the Chance family arrived back home with everyone intact.  I'm kind of sad that half the cactus went back to it's greenhouse, but I'm happy to say there were only two fatalities, a record for me.  Yes, I too could have a backyard full of cactus plants, but then I'd have to pack them back and forth between states.  I'd rather ooh and aah over someone else's handiwork.

With nothing much in the fridge for dinner, I barbecued a couple of chicken sausages I found in the freezer (no telling how long they have been there), filled with gruyere cheese.  I never saw nor tasted any cheese, but it was filling.
With the family back home, my rig had to be moved back to my house.  It was a test of backing abilities to be sure, to miss the edge of the building and not fall off the cliff on the other side.  She got home just in time for a nice cleansing rain this morning, which caused me to pop straight up out of bed.  The vent was open on top.  

Time to make that appointment for the recall due to smog something or other and see about getting that jack replaced ... the one that doesn't want to stay up.  In the meantime, it's also time to start cleaning this place up for poker.






Thursday, August 8, 2019

Birds, Bunnies and Blimps ... OH MY!

I'm happy to report my toe is still attached to my foot bone.  The pain is gone completely unless I hit it on something, like the dog toys in the middle of the floor.  It doesn't bend much at all and is a lovely shade of gray, leaning towards black.  I limp a little, but people just think it's because I'm old.

I made a quick trip to Safeway to order the chickens for Sunday's poker game/dinner.  You really didn't think I would subject these lovely people to my cooking, did you?  No way ... they are getting fresh roasted chicken straight from the store!!

Since grocery shopping was a little overkill on the big toe, I spent a couple hours on the couch before wandering outside to check on the portable patio purveyors of smiles ... the cactus.  This is just plain old oleander, but it certainly is pretty.
And just look what I found!!  Another cactus getting ready to show off it's finery.
They bloom at night and stay absolutely gorgeous for one day.  Then they fold up and disappear.  
I laughed as this guy, a curved bill thrasher, gave a good talking to the quail.  Between him and the cactus wren, they make the most wonderful calls in the morning just before the sun rises.
I was very surprised to see this guy because I thought he died.  No kidding, I watched him get a drink of water, walk a couple of feet and drop in the dirt.  I've never seen a rabbit do this.  He laid there for about five minutes without even twitching his ears.  To my relief, he finally got up, stretched and hopped away.  It must have been nap time.
The clouds and rain continue to sidestep this little valley running down the hills into Tucson, as evidenced by the Goodyear Blimp cruising right past my back door.  You can bet he doesn't travel in bad weather.  That was a sight I've never seen here before.
Every day now in the late afternoon, clouds pile up into tiny cells that dump loads of water on the Rincon Mountains.  At least I think that's the name.  There are about four different ranges around here and they seem to run together.  The temperatures never change.  It's still in the 90's every day.  
In spite of my beautiful big toe, the lawn must be mowed today, along with some grout work before I wander off with my camera.  Cabin fever has definitely taken hold.  The birds, bunnies and blimps just aren't doing it for me any more.  I've GOT to get out of here.




Wednesday, August 7, 2019

Aye Yai Yai Yai !!!

"I am the frito bandito"!!!  Anyone remember that song?  I'll never get it out of my head now.  No, it isn't an Apache Indian raid, nor do I have a Mariachi band in my living room, although both of those sound much better than me when I was yelling it yesterday.

See this 100 pound huge piece of half inch thick glass laying against the wall?  Yesterday, it was on top of a table out on my patio.  With my poker date looming at the end of the week, and not knowing exactly when Handyman Dan would be home to help, I decided to move it inside.  I need all the tables I can get.
As you can see, it didn't go so well.  In spite of all my efforts, that 500 (?) pound piece of glass fell the last 12 inches, flat on the concrete.  Lucky for me, it didn't break.  I don't know how, but it remained in one piece.  My big toe, not so much.

Aye yai yai yai ... or words to that effect, with lots of expletives thrown in for good measure.  Ay caramba that hurt!!!  It even brought out my Spanish!!   It's fine I thought ... just get this glass inside.  That was the easy part.

I sat on the couch and surveyed the damage.  Wow ... maybe I broke it?  The pain was getting close to the hot poker kind.  With no ice in the freezer (I rarely use ice) I smashed up the last of the popsicles for a little relief.  Nothing!!

That's when I could hear Nurse Patty's voice saying ELEVATE.  I quickly downed three advil and propped my foot on a pillow.  Still no relief.  At long last, I laid on the floor with my foot on the couch.  That seemed to help a little.  All my best laid plans were immediately cancelled.
Two hours later, the pain finally subsided and the technicolor show began.  I now have a lovely black toe ring.  Not able to get a shoe on for the trip to the cemetery for photography ... what a coincidence ... I hobbled in to the sewing room to work on quilting the bag pocket pieces just like Shirley showed me.  I'm very happy with the results, in spite of the awkward position of foot on chair while I sewed.
This morning my technicolor toe is much better.  The fish brought a smile to my face as I sang Aye Yai Yai Yai to them in my best Spanish accent.  I love how they all crowd around when they see me, only because they know food is on the way.
I'm determined to get to the cemetery today while I'm still upright.  Luckily it's my left foot that has no job to do when I'm driving.  No worries about putting the glass on TOP of the table.  I'm waiting until someone arrives to help, which is what I SHOULD have done in the first place.