Oh hail no!

Have you ever witnessed a hailstorm? They are fascinating forces of nature, and I have seen about three in my life.

In the south Arkansas town where I grew up, my dad was an independent insurance adjuster, meaning he worked under contract with different property and casualty insurance companies to work and settle claims made by their policyholders. Car wrecks and fires were his "bread and butter" so to speak, but the occasional storm was a big boon to his business. He carried a ladder with him to climb up on roofs, with roofing damage being some of the main claims to come from storms. 

Not long after he had bought out a partner and gone completely on his own, a hailstorm hit our town. I am guessing I was 14 years old at the time. It was late afternoon and only my mother and I were at home, and it sounded as if someone was throwing rocks at our house. 

The hail was golf ball and baseball sized, and it was remarkable. When the storm was done, I went out in the yard and picked up a few of the hailstones to put in the freezer so I could show my dad when he got home. 

He had been in a nearby town during the storm and knew nothing about it until I showed him the hailstones. 

His phone started ringing that night, and he and my mother (who worked with him) worked almost around the clock for the next six months settling storm claims. 

Yesterday afternoon about 3 p.m. I was at home alone, working in my upstairs office, and I heard sounds reminiscent of those I heard more than 50 years ago. Rocks hitting the house, pelting the windows. 

While it was not as intense as the one from my youth (there were golf ball sized stones, but most were the size of a large marble) this was a strong storm. I opened the back door and watched and listened. 

I had parked my truck in the street because of a visitor in the driveway earlier in the day, and my car that I need to sell was also out. There is no damage I can see, surprisingly. 

I have not been on my roof and will not be climbing up there, but plan to call my insurance agent to ask him to send an adjuster early next week to inspect for damage.

Here is a sample of what happened here yesterday: 

Procedures, surgeries, etc.

This aging stuff gets tricky sometimes. 

Yesterday it was a colonoscopy, the third one in my life. I am on a more frequent rotation because of a history of polyps, and even though my doc told me yesterday everything looked fine, I should schedule another one in three years. 

As anyone who has experienced this procedure knows, it's not the procedure itself that is burdensome (other than the inconvenience of taking a day off work to go to the surgery center, and assuming everything turns out well) but, rather, it's the preparation that is unpleasant. But it's necessary so you arrive for your procedure, uh, "cleaned out," if you will. 

For my first one, about 15 years ago, I took pills for the preparation. Not bad, and they did the job. 

For the second one, pills had fallen out of favor, and I was prescribed some nasty, chalky liquid. Yuck. 

For the one yesterday, everything was over the counter, mixed with Gatorade, and it wasn't bad at all. I hope this is still the preferred method when I have my next colonoscopy. 

Typically for me, there were three polyps, but the doc seemed unconcerned. Guess I'll see him again in three years. 

I suppose yesterday, getting an IV and being briefly anesthetized, was the warmup for the big act, which will be June 19th when I have knee replacement surgery. This has been coming for a while, and although I don't look forward to the surgery, I do look forward to being on the other side of it. 

My knees have been deteriorating for years, and both seemed to get significantly worse a couple years ago, which led me visit an orthopedic surgeon. He initially prescribed physical therapy. That, along with riding a stationary bike and getting really good steroid injections, helped considerably and the pain level is better than it was. But I am bone-on-bone, and at some point, the benefit of the exercises and steroids will diminish. 

So, I am starting with the right knee in June. If it goes well, I will eventually have the other one done. I have a lot of walking to do. 

And while we're on the subject of medicine and surgery, I will update you on my son-in-law. His surgery was February 27th and, not unexpectedly, his recovery has been rough. Slowly but surely, however, he is getting better and has recently returned to work. 

We will be holding our collective breath as he continues to have scans and lab work, fervently hoping and praying this awful cancer is gone for good. Any prayers in that direction are greatly appreciated. 

All in the family

Some 16-ish years ago my older son, who at the time lived in Dallas, asked if he could entrust to Wife and me his 2000 Chevrolet Silverado pickup truck, the one we had bought when he was in college. 

He loved that truck, but with a job that required a fair amount of driving around the Dallas metropolitan area at the time, it had become impractical for him. He was going to get something more economical. However, he did not want to part with his truck, affectionately known as The Green Machine. 

He would like us to keep The Green Machine, pictured here, at our house on a temporary basis and at some point, he would get it back. I told him I would be glad to do that. 

The Green Machine

I hardly remember details, but somehow, he got the truck from Dallas to our house just south of Nashville. 

Having never been a truck owner, I had not known how much I would enjoy having one. Whether it was picking up bags of mulch, a piece of furniture or the year's Christmas tree (when we still bought a real tree), its uses were many. (My friends quickly learned how handy it was too.)

Older Son eventually moved to Atlanta, about a four-hour drive from here. I figured it would only be a matter of time before his truck would be going back to its original owner. 

During the time I had the Green Machine, it developed some quirks typical of aging vehicles. I put some money into it to keep it maintained since I was the one using it. 

A few years ago, Older Son bought a 2016 Chevy Silverado for himself, a much-updated version of The Green Machine. He said he planned to retrieve The Green Machine someday, but said he was still happy with the entrustment arrangement if we were. 

Our housekeeper told us some years ago if we were ever interested in selling The Green Machine, her husband would be interested and asked if we would give him first shot at it. We explained we did not have the authority to sell it but would keep that in mind. 

After some discussion and negotiation, the following recently occurred: 

Older Son upgraded to a later model GMC pickup. 

Green Machine was purchased by our housekeeper's husband and driven from our driveway.

I am the proud owner of the above described, formerly-owned-by-Older-Son 2016 Chevy Silverado pictured here. 

My new-to-me wheels

While things do not always go as planned, they work out nicely sometimes.