Drat. I hate when blisters rip off. Actually, this was more of a fossil blister - no fluid inside any more, just an unconnected layer of skin - so the skin under it is healed. But now the remaining flap will harden and want to rip back and back until it hits the part where it's still attached. I'm going to try and see what Neosporin (or equivalent) and a band-aid can do to prevent that.
We're definitely going to Philadelphia Thanksgiving week - I've emailed the dates to some of the people I hope to see there. If you're in the area and I didn't email you, please assume that I'm having a premature moment of senility or that I had an old address for you, not that I don't care to see you, and let me know if you're available.
I've just put my rowing / boat-packing / traveling schedule for this month on my white board, and it's scary. From now to November 25, there is no span greater than 3 days during which I'm not packing or unpacking boats, traveling, or racing (some of the last week of that is traveling around to see friends while we're on the East Coast).
I have one more rowing story from last Saturday's head race thatI'd forgotten to tell, until just now when I included it in an email to a friend. At the regatta, they had Yosemite Sam announcing. (For the first few years of regattas here, he used to be Dockmaster. There was a lot more screaming than when I do it.) The sound system this year was very good, and he could easily be heard from the launching area and even from on the water. It was unfortunate when he claimed that competitive rowing goes back 300 years (more like 2000), but I could have lived with that - after all, maybe he just meant in the (future) US. That would have been OK, but then I got to hear him announcing my race as I came into the finish. Few things are more dispiriting than coming into the last 1000 meters of a 5K race and hearing, "And here's Rudder's wife...."
GRRRRR.
He also told the crowd, "You know, Dichroic's only about 5'1" and 110 pounds, so she's real proof you don't have to be big to row."
Frankly, I could happily deal with having my height and weight announced to the whole freaking crowd (even though he got both wrong), if he'd only started by introducing me with my *name*. I'd have even been fine with it if he'd said, "Here's Dichroic .... you saw her husband Rudder in the last race with the same boat, oar, and uni design..."
GRRRR AGAIN. (I have mentioned this to the race organizers.)
I've been watching the mourning for Rosa Parks with interest. I have mixed feelings about her lying in state in the Capitol. I'm glad that she's been given the deserved honor, but I'm appalled that she's the first woman to receive that honor. (That was unclear, sorry. She is worthy of the honor, but I think it sucks that apparently no other woman has been deemed worthy of such respect.) I think it's an odd decision, considering that until now the Capitol has been so used only for Presidents and high-level political figures, but if this is the start of a new policy in which people who have had a great force for good in this country are paid an attention usually only bestowed by politicos to those in their own game, then that's a good thing. The worst thing about it, though, is that this honor implies that there's no controversy around Rosa Parks, that she is a bloodless icon, the relic of an earlier period in history on which we can now shut the book. Nope, sorry. I'm glad Miss Rosa lived long enough to see how things have changed, but she surely also had a front-seat view on what is left to do. You don't get to pay honor to a legendary fighter unless you're part of continuing her fight, not shoving it into the attic and pretending it's yesterday's history.
Posted by dichroic at November 2, 2005 03:34 PMGood points. On both, being nameless and the Rosa Park discussion. I know you're dense with muscle, but if you weigh very much more than 110 I'll eat a hat. If I had to guess (now that I've met you in person) I'd have called it an even 100. You're small, but not scrawny. And in those cords at the Levi store, a fine figger of a woman. If I may be so bold. In any case, I have limbs that weigh more than you do, so hmmph. About Thanksgiving. Black Friday is a good and bad day to go into NYC. I'd hold off until later in your visit, if you want Rudder to have a more authentic NY experience. Black Friday it'll be you and 4 billion other tourists. Plus the public transportation is on a holiday schedule. Pain in the butt, that. How about we come to you and scoop up Pratt and do something touristy in Philly instead? Mike and I can stay the night at SIL's and be to you within an hour. The welcome mat at the Hobbit House is always out too, if you feel like doing some serious miles north. ~LA
Posted by: LA at November 2, 2005 06:11 PMI think my ass weighs 110, actually. Why not sic the Tasmanian Devil on Yosemite Sam? (And I could be talked into group fun in Philly...)
Posted by: Bozoette Mary at November 3, 2005 11:29 AMGRRRR, indeed. That would have driven me batty. Morgan's adorably innocent and incensed about similar things. (For instance, our checks arrived the other day. "HEY! Why is my name first??" he asked. "I mean, yours comes first in the alphabet, and you were the primary signer on the account." And I answered, "Because I'm female." He sputtered and ranted for a good fifteen minutes. :-) Frustrating, innit? Thankfully, it's not *usually* so personally offensive as someone announcing YOUR achievement by identifying you through your husband... but that it happens at all, that it even occurs to some people to phrase it that way... arg.
Posted by: Melissa at November 3, 2005 04:17 PM
Made me think of the time when Heather's class was coming up with a reunion - - 52 nd that is.
There was a luncheon where we mates attended.
At the start it was sort of a round robin thing, where each mate introduced him or herself, often to the puzzlement of the rest of the folks. When my turn came I said, I'm Heather W . . . . .'s husband.