Yesterday was such a beautiful day here in Texas. A little on the warm side for me, but sunny and breezy. Just the kind of day you'd give anything for in August.
In the morning, we walked to the Garden Cafe to meet our friends John and Karen for breakfast. It was really fun, and this time they got our orders just right. I was worried, so I placed my order very slowly, waiting for the lady (we call her Betty because it is a good waitress name and she has Betty Page hair) to write each thing down before telling her the next. However, while we were placing our order, chaos broke out. The CD player started skipping and a customer came up to check on why she didn't get her food yet and Betty became very flustered. I didn't have high hopes for getting what I asked for. But when they brought our food, they got it right, except for some reason they put my gravy on Kev's plate (why would he want gravy with his french toast?) and I had to remind them about my cheese grits, which they returned with promptly. I like the Garden Cafe.
After breakfast, we walked over to J and K's house for a tour. They live in a fabulous big house built a long time ago when builders took pride in their work and showed it in the subtle but interesting architectural details, like cove ceilings and carved staircase columns and lead-glass art windows and cool light fixtures and groovy tile.
After hanging out there for a while, we headed home, and I got pretty tired walking with a full belly from breakfast. Kev said we should stop and rest, but I just wanted to slow down a little. Kev has longer legs than me, so I have to take three steps for every two of his, and the pace was getting to me. "I'm walking for two," I told him, but he just laughed at me. I get laughed at off and on quite a bit. Anyway, Kev sat down in the grass by the post office, and after some convincing, I sat too, even though I don't like sitting in grass, and do you know what? I got a spider in my hair, which is exactly why I don't like sitting in the grass, but Kev got it out for me, and didn't laugh at me anymore all day until dinner, when I asked him if the Heimlich Maneuver (I bet I spelled both of those words wrong) works every time if it is executed proberly. I suppose to him it DID seem like sort of an out-of-left-field question, but it was logical to me, because I was sitting there eating my Chinese soup with crispy wide noodles, wondering what would happen if I choked. Does anyone out there know how to give the HM to a large pregnant woman? Is it safe to give the regular HM to a not-yet-large-but-still-pregnant woman? These are the things I worry about.
So, it was a pretty good weekend. Hope yours was good.
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http://www.ohiohealth.com/healthreference/reference/58F86124-269C-49E1-834BBE72273246D6.htm
There are other websites out there this was just a quick search, and understanding your dilligence you probably already did the research, but I have to look out for my niece/nephew. I also thought for some reason they were moving away from the name Heimlich but I don't recall where i read that.
Thanks Marty! I will make sure Kev reads this in case of any unfortunate incidents with crispy wide noodles. It never hurts to be prepared.
Restaurant: You are a very tolerant person. Lesser people would have become quite huffy over errors in their order.
Architecture: I enjoy older architecture. Unfortunately, the skills are being lost, and the labor costs are too high for most people to reproduce this. (Although it was probably only the upper-middle class who enjoyed the nice trimmings originally.)
People laughing: You could go in to stand-up comedy. You could be the funny pregnant lady -- like a Jerry Seinfeld ''And another thing about being pregnant...'' Just so long as people are laughing with you!
Heimlich manoeuvre: It ought to work nearly every time, if you try enough times. If the person passes out you ought to roll them onto their back and keep trying. The position for pressing (direction = inwards and slightly upwards) is about three fingers below the sternum(? - the little button at the bottom of the centre of the ribcage); there should be sufficient room between the bottom of the ribcage and the amniotic(?) sac, which protects the baby.
I think about that, too -- which is why I avoid eating alone. Or rather, eating large chunky items alone. :)
There's a good song called ''The Heim. Maneuv.'' by a Seattle band called Mah Jong; a Google search of the two terms together may turn up an audio file.
--TG
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