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Dad has officially been stabbed! We went to the Cow Palace at the State Fair, and they had it working like a well-oiled machine. Got in, someone took our info and went over the questions they have to ask. Then, without pause, we went to the next station for someone else who took our info, and then it was time for the shot. The woman who gave it to him was excellent. He doesn't even have a mark on his arm from it. Then we sat for a little while to make sure there was no reaction, and we were done.
If only the getting him to and from the Cow Palace had been as easy. They were really busy, so we ended up parking a good distance away. The MD Fairgrounds is on a hill. Not a horribly steep hill, but enough of one. On the way down to the venue, I was fighting to keep the wheelchair from getting away from me. I was about halfway there, and wondering how the bad shoulder was going to hold up to this when I remembered his wheelchair has handbrakes. Duh. Then, coming back to the car after, I was pushing him uphill. I had to take a break about halfway to catch my breath.
Today, I am hurting like hell pretty much everywhere, and doing my best to hide it, because Dad's worried about me. I don't want to make him feel bad, because it's not his fault we ended up parking so far away, or that he's not the lightest weight to be pushing. My one concession is that I may ask Jess to run up to the grocery store instead of me to pick up rolls and cheese for the cheesesteak subs.
I'm a little grumpy this morning to go with the owies. Not sure if the owies are the cause, or if I just woke up pissy. I suspect the latter. I'll get over it, because if I don't, the mood will start to annoy me, and that is not happening on a Friday. It's my day off, it's Falcon and Winter Soldier day, and it's D&D day!
So, instead, I shall have more coffee, and catch up on my social media, and maybe read another book. I finished the latest from my problematic Id series, which was entertainingly bonkers as usual. The book was The Queen's Weapons, by Anne Bishop. Yes, I know. I can't help it. I read the initial trilogy youngish and it was formative. It definitely formed some of the basis of my hurt/comfort fic tendencies. I unironically love those books. I wouldn't rec them due to copious amounts of sexual assault and fucked up gender politics. I probably would rec her other series, starting with Written in Red, as it's much less rapey. Still violent as all fuck, but it's about werewolves and vampires, so really, it's expected.
Jess is reading the new Ursula Vernon, so I can't start that one yet. (Paladin's Grace, and the new one, Paladin's Strength. Amazing worldbuilding and a slow burn romance that will have you yelling "Just kiss already!") All of Ursula's non-horror books are like a warm, cozy blanket and hot cocoa on a cold rainy day. Highly recommended. (Her horror books are the opposite. Disturbing as fuck and a slow dawning horror.) I also highly recommend her Clocktaur Wars duology. Practical as fuck characters on a quest!
Okay, this has gotten long, what with the book recs. I'm going to go have more coffee, and see if I can pry the dog out of my seat.
If only the getting him to and from the Cow Palace had been as easy. They were really busy, so we ended up parking a good distance away. The MD Fairgrounds is on a hill. Not a horribly steep hill, but enough of one. On the way down to the venue, I was fighting to keep the wheelchair from getting away from me. I was about halfway there, and wondering how the bad shoulder was going to hold up to this when I remembered his wheelchair has handbrakes. Duh. Then, coming back to the car after, I was pushing him uphill. I had to take a break about halfway to catch my breath.
Today, I am hurting like hell pretty much everywhere, and doing my best to hide it, because Dad's worried about me. I don't want to make him feel bad, because it's not his fault we ended up parking so far away, or that he's not the lightest weight to be pushing. My one concession is that I may ask Jess to run up to the grocery store instead of me to pick up rolls and cheese for the cheesesteak subs.
I'm a little grumpy this morning to go with the owies. Not sure if the owies are the cause, or if I just woke up pissy. I suspect the latter. I'll get over it, because if I don't, the mood will start to annoy me, and that is not happening on a Friday. It's my day off, it's Falcon and Winter Soldier day, and it's D&D day!
So, instead, I shall have more coffee, and catch up on my social media, and maybe read another book. I finished the latest from my problematic Id series, which was entertainingly bonkers as usual. The book was The Queen's Weapons, by Anne Bishop. Yes, I know. I can't help it. I read the initial trilogy youngish and it was formative. It definitely formed some of the basis of my hurt/comfort fic tendencies. I unironically love those books. I wouldn't rec them due to copious amounts of sexual assault and fucked up gender politics. I probably would rec her other series, starting with Written in Red, as it's much less rapey. Still violent as all fuck, but it's about werewolves and vampires, so really, it's expected.
Jess is reading the new Ursula Vernon, so I can't start that one yet. (Paladin's Grace, and the new one, Paladin's Strength. Amazing worldbuilding and a slow burn romance that will have you yelling "Just kiss already!") All of Ursula's non-horror books are like a warm, cozy blanket and hot cocoa on a cold rainy day. Highly recommended. (Her horror books are the opposite. Disturbing as fuck and a slow dawning horror.) I also highly recommend her Clocktaur Wars duology. Practical as fuck characters on a quest!
Okay, this has gotten long, what with the book recs. I'm going to go have more coffee, and see if I can pry the dog out of my seat.
