A dash of fun for Tuesday

Then, the Beginning

Now, Tuesday, April 29, 2008 gives us time amid the hustle and bustle of The Week, for a moment of fun during the turning point for the rest of our lives.

Cameras. Do you have a camera? One camera? Two cameras? A silver camera? Pink Camera? Film camera? SLR? I could go on and on just naming the cameras in our household. Ummm, and whose cameras are these by the way? It could be embarrassing if I were to answer this question. Even more embarrassing is how many cameras does Jim own that are just his and his alone? I had plans to get him one for our anniversary, but I was down sick at that time, and we celebrated that around my bed with take home from Olympia Restaurant that replicated our First Anniversary, and we just had each other us and the babies for our anniversary.

Like computer mice, I have a thing for cameras, hobby I guess. However, this has spanned throughout the years beginning first at twelve, and migrating on up through the 35 mm to today's fine digitals that are now too heavy for my myasthenic neuropathy hands to easily control. The last camera I bought, I hang my head in shame, and admit it was a with-an-excuse-toy camera that I dearly love, and takes wonderful pictures. You would wonder at it, though, when you see how thin it is, maybe a stack of four quarters high thick (I'll have to measure it some day), and it is red! Well, come to think of it, not much thicker than an iPod.

It was bought *just in case* my pink Sony was broken, and I got home to Blytheville without a working camera (happened a few months back), and Wal-Mart did not have a suitable camera for a replacement. On the way home from the hospital, we stopped by Best Buy, and by the time Jim found out it was only could possibly be a dead battery, I had already fallen in love with this cute little, paper thin, red Casio Exilim. I tried. I really did try to roll away from it, but the farther I rolled, the tighter the tie tightened between that red display and me. Jim said, "Do you want it? If you want it, then get it." I'd just been tethered to the IV pole for five days, with an IV line open in my hand or elsewhere for seven days. Though feeling lifted, there still was an emotional drain pulling on me, and the moist edges to my eyes were surprising to me as I was just having fun, not seriously looking. So I thought. Jim came to where I was; he saw my eyes though I tried shielding them from him. It's all about me. It's all about me isn't it? Selfish? It had a "wrong feeling" even though it was money I had saved myself just for a reason such as one such as this. In the end, it was nothing he said or did. It was what I wanted. I wanted to buy the toy, the little red camera.

I got the little red Casio Exilim toy camera. I think I understand children. Maybe I am still a child.

Now, I have a pink Sony and a red Casio.

Jim asked if he could take my pink Sony to have at Jim's to use while he would be there. Is it selfishness, or a I wanting for him to have that camera now so that I cling to my security blankets? Or am I wanting to get his delayed anniversary present? Frankly, it all stinks. With nerves like mine are right now, I wouldn't trust any answer I give. But, I have made plans to get him one regardless.

I enlisted the aid of Debbie back over the weekend. Personal circumstances develop, and we keep the text messages hot over the weekend, and into Monday. Things work out, and she is able to do our Sherlock-ing today during her lunch time, then Santa delivery afterward. That was fun in itself because of her and me working together for something for Daddy whom we both love dearly. It had its own little mystery down to "I'm on my way in," text when she got here to the house. Poor Jim had to get up and unlock the front door to let her in to bring his own gift to him. Only, she brought the Wal-Mart Santa bag to me.

I took a peek inside, then called him, and said, "Jim, the girls and I have something for you." He was pleased. We got him a 2 g memory card so he ought to be able to shoot plenty of pictures of the babies now.

Debbie had to go on back to work, her Sherlock-ing and Santa-ing over. Jim brought his camera, plastic packages of more cords over to me (someone's making a killing off of cord manufacturing for cameras and cell phones, then ID tags to know them apart!). I tried really hard, but my vision was just too bad for me to be able to read the instructions or the camera markings sufficiently to set up the camera for him. I suggested he ask Debbie to come set it up for him after she got off work.

She and Mark came over later in the evening, and she got him all set up.

It is necessary for me to publish this right now. I will edit the ending later. Until then . . .

Toodles
Striving for a world without Myasthenia Gravis