Beautiful balloons

4 Replies

Wouldn’t you like to ride…

This weekend was the Ashland Balloonfest.

The traditional Friday night Balloon Glow is a sight to behold. Balloonists from all over the country set up their pretties in Freer Field, directly behind the Ashland County Children’s Home, and on cue, they fire ’em all up. I didn’t go this time, but I’ve been in past years; it’s a definite “ooh, ahh” moment.

Yesterday morning, after I wrote my Diprivan post, I relaxed and read the news over coffee. At around 8:00, I heard loud hissing sounds outside. At first I was confused; what was that noise anyhow? It was only after Rousseau began a massive wig-out that I realized what was up: the 4th of July Balloon Flight was happening right above my house, and the sounds I heard were the pilots releasing the powerful flame jets to control the altitude of their inflatable ships.

I grabbed the camera, and while alternately snapping photos and trying to shut up a totally ballistic dog on the front porch, I saw these beautiful images:

Gorgeous 65-degree morning, clear sky…stunning scenery on my street. Nice. Had a great time at the party last night, too. Bonus: saw Lars play in a band before the fireworks at the local football stadium. My kids are beast.

Oh, and Rousseau needed a nap after all the excitement. Drama queen, sheesh.

Have yourselves a nice Sunday, fiends.

Fink out.

Balloon glow photo: Tom Puskar, Ashland Times-Gazette

What a knockout

4 Replies

I’m talking about Diprivan (propofol). It’s what they use to put you out when you have surgery. Ask me how I know this.

Since 1980, I’ve had twelve surgeries. That’s a dozen, cousin. I’ve survived Diprivan all twelve times. (Obviously.) I know everyone reacts differently, but here’s how it went for me:

Anesthesiologist: We’re going to start some medication through your IV now, Mrs. Fink. Just begin counting backwards from 100, OK?

Fink: Ninety-nine.

Next thing I know, I’m waking up in recovery. That’s how fast it puts me out. And for the next several weeks, all I can think about is getting home and going to bed. It stays in my system like it was its job. Ack phooey. Hate the stuff. I don’t know how anyone would voluntarily take it to help them sleep, especially since it’s not supposed to be used outside a controlled surgical environment.

Yet, that’s what they found in Michael Jackson’s house yesterday. I’m sure you’ve seen the interview with the nurse who told MJ that if he took that drug, he “might not wake up the next morning.” No surprise that she feels sick in her soul now. But, according to reports that have surfaced over the last couple of days, you just didn’t say no to Michael. I wish I could remember where I read a quote from someone close to MJ (Brian Oxman, maybe?) who tried to tell Michael he was killing himself with all the drugs. The statement went something like, “Michael shot you a certain look; he didn’t say a word, but you knew that you had better can it or you’re gone.”

I don’t know if it was just spoiled-bratism, or if Michael was simply desperate, addicted and lost. People who are tortured in childhood often live long enough to torture others as adults — at the very least by building up emotional walls made of petrified wood. But that’s analysis for another day.

I still can’t believe he’s gone.

FO

PS – Happy Fourth of July to all my fiends. I am delighted to go to the annual Polk Speed Shop Bash, given by #1 Son and Hannah, this night. Best part: we girls rented Revolutionary Road. Heh.

Various & Sundry XVI

4 Replies

All the news fit to harangue about. Yes, I ended a sentence in a preposition; it just “popped” better than the more acceptable form of the sentence (fragment), All the news about which to harangue. I like the word “harangue.” Huh-rang. I like to say it as well as write it. It has a nice mouth feel. Say it a couple of times, right there in your chair. Go ahead. Huh-rang.

Right. Onward.

1. I found a picture this morning and was reminded of how much fun I had at the camp I did last month, and how cool the guys from InPulse are:

Fink, surrounded by talent and gorgeousness. It is good to be queen.

~

Definitely made some great friends that week, even though I was the oldest person there, beating out one other faculty member by about a year. But hey, it’s all in your head, right? (And in your knees, back, shoulders, ankles.)

2. Got a real nice email last night from one of the students at the camp. Makes it worth doing all this, ya know? Just when you’re afraid it’s all been wasted time…

3. Completely vapid and superficial: Who wants to know how to duplicate Kate Hudson’s hair color? I do. Yes, I am that shallow.

4. I get Jake all day today. Wahoo!

5. Jake and I are going to see BFF Kay this morning. Waffles are on the menu, topped with raspberries from the back yard garden. How cool is that? I ask you.

6. And speaking of cool: my little town of Ashland, Ohio makes the headlines. Good for the two of them.

7. I have to admit this: I think Glenn Beck is funny. All political pundits should be comedians first. Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Louis Black…even the slightly unamusing Bill Maher.

OK. Time to gird the loins for the arrival of The Most Awesome Toddler in the World.

BTW: I do not know what day it is. Just sayin.

FO

Yay for #1 Son

3 Replies

I am proud this day.

After ten weeks of grueling classwork and road training, Seamus is now a certified heavy hauler. Wahoo! He is fully licensed to drive flatbed, box and tanker semi trucks. He will be working mostly with flatbed loads.

party

~

Am I proud of this boy? Yep. After a career in retail sales that was fine, but not personally rewarding for him, he finally decided to go after his dream: driving for a living. He’s loved it since his grandfather allowed him to drive a tractor around the farm when he was nine years old.

Now he’s going to be the asphalt cowboy he’s always wanted to be. How cool is that? How often does someone reach his goals in this world?

Last night, Hannah threw a surprise party for him. There were a dozen of us there, all proud as get-out. But few as proud as Mama Fink. And I’m looking forward to taking him up on his offer to go with him on a haul sometime.

Fink, eastbound and down, loaded up and truckin’…

Schmenglish VIII

20 Replies

Snark, snark, snark. Feelin’ kinda snarky this morning.

All right: here’s a list that makes me itchy-scratchy. Sometimes things don’t bother me regarding usage, like ending a sentence with certain prepositions (as long as it isn’t “at”). Sentence fragments. Don’t. Bug me. Usually. Unless they’re in a research paper.

I’m not the Knot-See I used to be; I’ve mellowed in my dotage. But some things do send me, darlin’. They make me want to say, Hey, c’mere. Got somethin’ for ya. *KaBLaM*

Many of the following have been mentioned in previous Schmenglish posts over the last year and a half, so 1,000 pardons (but they do bear repeating). It’s kind of my “Best Of” project. You know, the album that artists release in order to cash in twice on the same material? Well this is that, only without the cashing-in part. So, without further delay, and in random order:

Schmenglish Peeves

  1. “The Fink’s blog is better than Perez Hilton’s.” Why thank you, doll. But please don’t write that something is better then anything.
  2. You’re going to a birthday party today. Your not going anywhere.
  3. To little, to late. I can hardly type it. Is it too much to ask to remember to use the extra “o” when you write about that which is excessive or in addition to something? Or do I have to do that for you, too?
  4. Bananas. Pianos. Calculators. I will slap the pretty right off your face if you write banana’s, piano’s or calculator’s. Word.
  5. If I see another writer for a major publication (we’re talking the Times, the Post,  the Globe, and the place where all bad writers go to die: ESPN.com) say something like, The company would benefit it’s investors by selling off it’s assets, I am going to punch stuff. I mean, really. It’s is a friggin’ contraction of “it is.” When will they ever learn? Where have all the flowers gone?
  6. Could of/would of. Why do I get so upset about this one? Why do I imagine myself repeatedly bopping someone on the back of the head while shouting, “COULD HAVE! WOULD HAVE!” with each blow? I could of daaaaaanced all niiiiight…. Honestly. Some things make me want to kick and punch and scratch and maul.
  7. “I seen her at the bank yesterday.” You would be surprised at how many educated people seen folks here or there or yonder.
  8. Who vs. that (and the “vs.” stands for versus, not “verse.” Just sayin’.). You would once again be surprised to hear things like, “Students that plan to play volleyball should meet in the gym,” or “People that text while driving are more prone to accidents.” No, luvs. People get the “who” — things get the “that.” I hate things that make me mad and people who don’t care about how stupid we appear when we can’t master our own language.

Unfortunately, that’s all I have time for this morning. Must get those tour letters done. Mavis is helping me today, bless her heart. That will likely improve my sour mood.

I should do a Part II of this list. I think I might. I probably will.

Happy Monday — shyeah right.