DO IT YOURSELF: WATERBED WOES

"It even takes fitted sheets," said the salesman who sold us our king-sized waterbed.

What he didn't say was that it would take a hoist to lift the corners high enough to put the fitted sheets on.

This was just one of the things we didn't realize when we handed over an $80 deposit and told the man to deliver our bed C.O.D. to our first little home. No, we didn't think we needed any of the many accessories he said we might want to get.

The first night we filled the bed too full.  I lay there listening to unnerving sloshing sounds, until my husband jumped in.  I don't know how many times I bounced up to the ceiling before we decided to let some water out, only to discover that a drain kit was one of those extras we hadn't opted to buy.

So I went back to the store the next morning to get a drain kit and a few more accessories including a set of flat sheets and two pair of water-sloshing, sound-reducing earplugs.

Then we let some agua out over a period of weeks until we thought we had it right.

"What are all those little green things floating around?"  my husband asked on the fourth attempt.

"I'm not sure, but they look like clumps of algae."

"Great! We not only have a year's supply of water stowed away in our mattress, we have a hydroponic garden in there, too."

Maybe we let too much water out?  The next morning I couldn't get out of bed.  No matter how I twisted and turned, I was engulfed in wave after wave of vinyl-encased H2o. Finally, I got all the waves going in the same direction and let them do the work, rolling me to the edge of the mattress.

Resigned, I returned to the store to buy the two remaining recommended accessories--a tube of algae retardant and a bottle of Dramamine.

Cheerfully, the salesman if I liked my bed.  I almost said no, but a strange sloshing in my head bounced my chin quite firmly up and down.

REAGANOMICS: PRESIDENT REAGAN'S DECREE ON KITCHEN SINK PROBLEMATIC

Addressing a Jackson, Mississippi fund-raiser, Monday, June 20, President Ronald Reagan announced that his committee to cut waste from government spending intended to eliminate some 73 million copies of federal publications.

Included in the 2200 bulletins and brochures banished from government presses was a booklet instructing homeowners on how to have a sparkling, clean sink.

"I can see it all now," I told my husband at breakfast.  "If recent history is an accurate barometer of this country's emotional climate concerning Reaganomics' weather, the President's announcement could trigger a deluge of protests."

Potential arguments against discontinuing the publication might be summarized as follows:

• Reagan is out of touch with the working classes who have to clean their own sinks.
• Initial appropriations for researching and preparing the pamphlet will go right down the drain.
• Without direct US Government instruction, desperate homeowners will turn to unreliable sources, leading to increased hospitalization for chemical burns, inhalation of toxic gases, and a peculiar form of depression known as "sinking spirits syndrome."
• Medical costs will soar, as hospitals scramble to meet the demand for related emergency care.
• Taxes will be raised to cover new research in the area of dirty-sink related disease.
• The decision will be detrimental to special interest groups who manufacture soap, scouring pads, and scale-removing agents.
• As protestors of the measure begin handcuffing themselves to washbasin pipes in congressional restrooms, there won't be a politician in Washington with "clean" hands.
• Throwing out the kitchen sink is only a step away from throwing in the towel.
  

DOCTOR'S DEATH LEAVES SPACE

The doctor's fine, deft fingers worked with rapid, careful precision to close the gaping wound above my 8-month-old daughter's right eye.

Tawny yet clinically scrubbed to a whiteness of nail and knuckle, there was something incredibly gentle in the hands that stitched, in one continuous length of thread, a cut at least three quarters of an inch long.

And the voice!  It was quick to the point, and business-like, yet softened by a reverence for life that even little Julie seemed to sense.  In a moment she had ceased her frenzied struggle against the tight, blue canvas "papoose board" that immobilized her in the emergency ward at Humana Davis North Hospital.

One, two, three, four, five stitches.  And the doctor was gone to the side of another accident victim in another room.

Fascinated by the clean line of stitching he had secured by just two knots, I chatted momentarily with a nurse.

"You'll hardly see a scar," she said, handing a pineapple "Dum Dum" lollypop to my baby and a list of wound care instructions to me. "You were lucky to have had Dr. Amano."

I thought about that the other day, when word reached me of the untimely death of Dr.  Joe Amano.  I thought about what she'd said and about what I, myself, had come to know of the kind-eyed doctor who had first treated me as a little girl with an earache at the old Clearfield Clinic on Center Street.

Dr. Amano was a man who knew what had to be done and did it.  And if he couldn't help you, he'd find someone who could.  He checked things and then double-checked.  He always remembered you--asked about little things you'd thought he would have forgotten.

He was a busy man, busy with medical affiliations and offices, and yet you could still expect to see him at PTA meetings, places like that  He was honest and he cared

With stethoscope in hand, he served northern Utah for more than 26 years, listening to the heartbeat of a clientele who loved him.

Because he had been my parents' doctor, my doctor, and my children's doctor, I felt a need to pay him tribute.  Yet with all my flourishes of pen, I could find no more appropriate, more eloquent praise than the simple observation of one nurse who knew his work:  "You were lucky to have had Dr. Amano."

Note:  I edited and posted this old column to my blog upon reading that after so many years, Dr. Amano's wife Norma had passed away.  http://www.standard.net/Obituaries/2014/12/03/Norma-Hamatake-Amano

DIET: SERIOUS ABOUT WEIGHT LOSS

Just to show I was serious about losing weight this year, I began keeping a daily food journal on New Year's Day:

January 1
Dear Diary,
8 am--Woke up determined to keep resolution made at midnight:  I will not overeat.  (Frankly, after last night's buffet, it was easy to settle for the half grapefruit and celery stick on my breakfast menu.)
8:15--Began clearing away New Year's Eve party debris.  Emptied crock pot of bacon-wrapped meatballs (soggy) without eating one.
8:25--Triumphantly fed leftover eggnog (warm) to cat without taking one sip.
8:30--Cut tinfoil to wrap remaining half loaf of banana bread.
8:31--Banana bread loaf edge needed straightening.  Cut miniscule slice of bread to square the edge.
8:32--Hand holding miniscule slice of banana bread vacillated between garbage and mouth.  Mouth won (It was just a tiny slice).
8:33--Loaf edge still crooked.  Removed bigger slice.
8:34--Used calorie chart to check difference between lunch allowance of 2 hard-boiled eggs and slice of banana bread.  Difference negligible. Scratched eggs off menu.
8:40--Banana bread seemed dry.  Poured half glass of chocolate milk (low fat) to wash bread down.
8:42--Finished chocolate milk before bread.  Poured an inch more.
8:45--Finished banana bread slice before beverage.  Cut another slice (small).
8:46--Finished chocolate milk before bread.  Carton empty.  Spread remaining dry bread with cream cheese (just a dab). 
8:48--Cream cheese edge crooked.  Sliced off a smidgen to straighten.
8:49--Cut tiniest morsel of banana bread to use up smidgin of cream cheese.
8:51--Bread edge crooked.  Cut off piece to straighten.
8:52--Piece dry. More cream cheese (not much).
8:53--Cream cheese edge still crooked.  Straightened edge, spreading cream cheese over remaining heel of banana bread.
8:54--Scraped empty bread pan and sprinkled crumbs on remaining, crooked slab of cream cheese which I ate with a spoon.
8:55--Licked the cream cheese wrapper.
8:56--Chocolate milk gone. Banana bread gone.  Cream cheese gone.  Should be able to stay on my diet until dinner time.

Why not just put the cream cheese in the banana bread to begin with (low fat). Click on the link for a delicious recipe?
http://www.food.com/recipeprint.do?rid=109737

THIS YEAR'S POST HOLIDAY GIFT EXCHANGE

So this past Christmas, good, old Aunt Bertha once again outdid herself.  She gave you a pair of orange and purple argyle socks to match the gift tie she gave you last year?  Too bad you took that tie back almost 365 days ago.  But never fear. At least you had lots of company December 26, when you stood in the post-holiday exchange lines.

Manufacturers vying for Christmas shopping dollars really waxed creative  when it came to producing the kind of paraphernalia most of us could live without.  Top ten contenders on the year's list of gimmicks, gadgets, and gifts most likely to be returned the day after Christmas include:

1. Musical toilet paper dispensers that play the "Star Spangled Banner."

2.  Fire alarms that whistle "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes." 

3.  Gift packs of hand-washable, reusable disposable diapers.

4.  My Little Pet Shop Designer Puppies like Great Dane/Chihuahua or Mexican Hairless/Old English Sheepdog mixes.

5.  Ceramic overnight chewing gum savers.

6.  Underarm sweat detectors with audible alarms for when the sniff test fails.

7.  Miniature spinning wheels to recycle hair from combs and brushes into workable 4-ply yarn. 

8.  Transformer robots that make into functional potty chairs.

9.   The Complete Deseret Tortoise and Spotted Owl Cookbook.

10.  Self-help books like Do it Yourself Liposuction.

The Complete Spotted Owl Cookbook

Click on the link below to compare this year's list with last year's:

http://sharonnautasteele.blogspot.com/2014/01/exchanging-is-big-post-holiday-activity.html