The Importance of NOT Being Earnest

Several of you have forwarded me this post from the Huffington Post about the woman responding to a nasty note on her windshield chiding her for parking in the disabled spot. Turns out the woman was legally and more than justified parking there. She has two disabled children, one of whom has invisible disabilities.  Mom writes an eloquent and impassioned response to this anonymous note leaver.

Good for her.

I guess.

Frankly, I wouldn't have bothered. As my friend Elizabeth pointed out, it's too exhausting to be that earnest. If I ever had that level of earnestness and need to have people understand our life, I left it behind years ago. People don't understand and it's not my job to make them understand. I couldn't if I tried. And that's OK -- or not OK -- but that's just the way it is.

Don't get me wrong, I would have made fun of the person to no end. I would have tossed invectives like confetti, but I wouldn't have bothered explaining myself or my life to anyone. Especially not to someone who is so nervy and so cowardly at the same time. Nervy: S/he was willing to raise the issue. Cowardly: only willing to do so in an anonymous and chiding manner. This is not to say that my way is better; I doubt it is, I just know that's what I would do.

 I would not have taken even a moment to bother trying to figure out this person's life, which the mom sees as "Black and White." That assumption is just as offensive as the note, and I suspect its entirely wrong. Who knows what drove this person to leave this note. Maybe it is a disabled individual, maybe it is the parent, child or sibling of a disabled person. I doubt that person's life is black and white at all. At least they recognized the issue, even if they went about dealing with it in a ham handed fashion.

Still, Mom was right to be offended by the note. It was offensive to target her specifically, especially when the note leaver was so clearly mistaken. I raise the issue of the problems with handicapped parking all the time, but I do it generally. I don't target anyone specifically. Even in my general comments, I have been wrong plenty of times and you have educated me. There are both general and specific problems with this issue, but it's a lot safer and smarter to keep comment general and not target people specifically.

My general instructions for today are the same as many other days.

•  Don't take handicapped spots illegally. 
• Don't use handicapped placards illegally. 
• Be careful about judging those who have the placards. 
• Many people have invisible disabilities. 
• Many are stealing their grandmother's placard. 
• But you just don't know which is which. 
• If you are seriously moved enough to questions someone (as I was last week), tell a cop, if you can find one. It's their job to check, though it seems like a very low priority. 
• Finally, don't explain yourself to anyone other than a cop. It's just none of their business.

When you have the letter and spirit of the law in your favor, you don't have to explain yourself. Many years ago I was verbally accosted by a woman who decided I was using the placard illegally. She couldn't see Maggie because the windows in the van are tinted. I ignored her.  I wasn't dong anything wrong and I knew she was going to feel stupid when she shut up long enough to take in the reality of the situation. She jawed at me for several minutes not noticing I was loading Maggie into a small wheelchair. (Before the ramp days). She kept it up, infuriated that I wouldn't respond to her. Finally she stopped for air and realized what was going on.  And then she started stammering incoherently.

 I'm not going to lie. That was a delicious moment for me.

Wheelchair Parking. Not for the feint of heart.

Maggie wanted to go to the mall on Saturday. Nothing new there. We go to the mall often, though not necessarily to buy anything. Maggie is a teenager and just loves to watch the people. Because of both the nurses schedule and the parking issue, we generally hit the mall in the morning when it's less crowded. (Note this is not optimal cool teenager time, but Maggie doesn't care). This is an outing Maggie and I can do together before the nurse gets to our house and Maggie can just hang with mom.

That is, IF we can find a parking place for the van with space to unload the wheelchair.

Believe me, I know where every single handicapped spot is in that mall. There are some in front of Macy's, downstairs in the back behind Macy's, there are a couple by the Williams Sonoma and several over by Nordstrom. In addition there are probably 5 or six in the underground parking. Of those maybe 20 spots, only 5 or so have the designated space to unload a wheelchair.  And those 5 spots are almost always taken by a vehicle that could not possibly hold a wheelchair.

There is, of course, no distinction between the wheelchair accessible spaces and the regular "blue" spaces designated for the disabled. Anyone with a placard can use any blue spot, wheelchair accessible or not.  That makes sense, there really aren't that many wheelchair vehicles cruising around. And while most wheelchair ramps come out the passenger side, some have the ramp coming out the back of the vehicle. So not even every wheelchair van needs the space on the side.

Still, it's maddening for those of us who actually DO have to unload a wheelchair out the side of the car to see a Honda Civic or some other small car in the wheelchair spot while another blue zone sits empty.

Perfectly legal. Perfectly reasonable. Absolutely maddening.

Saturday as I approached I saw one spot big enough and figured we were in business. There were three other blue spots, none of which would work for me - but I only needed one. There was one car in front of me - a sedan of some sort.

OF COURSE, OF COURSE, he took the one spot I needed. Not only that, I watched as his wife, who did not seem to have any disability at all, jumped out of the car and sprinted to Macy's. He stayed in the car and waited for her. Really? And you have to take up a wheelchair spot to do that?  I did not see any placard, and I have no idea if he or she were even entitled to use that spot, but why oh why couldn't they have taken one not meant for a wheelchair.

Now I know you are thinking, why didn't you say something? If he realized he would have happily moved ... and you may be right. But how do I know that? No one likes to be corrected by a stranger. He could be a wacko. I can't play cop or even hall monitor in addition to all my other roles. Further, as a practical matter, I would never get out of the car and leave Maggie sitting there unattended. For one thing, it's dangerous and for another, any cop who happened by would be far more interested in my neglect than in the (possibly) legal if thoughtless parking of the other guy.

So I will use this blog to start an education plan.

 If you are not disabled, don't park in disabled spots. Just don't. The ticket is enormous and the karma is even worse.

If you do have a legitimate disabled parking placard, and you are the using it correctly, please don't take the wheelchair space unless there is no other blue zone available.

There are no fines or karma to worry about here, but you would certainly make my life just a little bit easier.

 Thank you.

I would love to know the story here.....

Addendum - I've now heard from at least three wheelchair users who do not use a van, so I feel better about seeing the cars that don't seem to be wheelchair users in those spaces. But let's face it, there are an awful lot of non wheelchair users taking them and an awful lot of non-disabled using all types of handicapped spots. If you are using a placard legally and need the space -go for it, that's why it's there. If you don't need the extra space and there's another space, take it. if you are disabled and staying in the car while your wife shops, don't hog a space. If you are parking in a blue zone illegally, I have nothing but disdain for you.

New Year, New Hoops

There's nothing like New Years. Clean slate, fresh start, new beginnings, resolutions. Every thing starts again and it will be better than ever!

 That lasts until the fist real work days of the New Year.

Then it's just January.

The worst thing about January to me is all the new hoops through which I have to jump. There are new rules, new deductibles, new requirements and new documentation etc for Maggie from several corners. Each of them requires hours of attention and even if successful, will cost me more money. Medi-cal changes eliminate  some of her medications. The regional center is changing the way the nurses will be paid so that each nurse needs to complete a 40 page packet of information and wait longer for their checks (just initially, to be fair), the city needs new documentation that Maggie is actually entitled to a parking pass (for $100) for her nurse, PG&E also needs documentation of Maggie's medical needs, and the insurance company has a fresh new deductible along with new rules about getting Maggie's medications. Yet another form signed by the doctor may or may not excuse us from that. I won't know until I actually jump through that hoop.

So if you don't see me around as much for the next week or so, you will know where I am:

Traffic Jam

I've been working at UCSF Benioff children's Hospital for the past few months. I just go in one or two days a week and work in the Family Resource Room assisting parents who have kids in the hospital. It seems I can relate to the things they are dealing with. 

I never wish for Maggie to be in the hospital, but if you are stuck in there yesterday would have been a good day. They were having a special showing of Brave for the kids in the hospital . The kids could watch it together in the playroom or they could watch it from their bed in their own room. Animators from Pixar were visiting the kids and answering questions too.  I thought about bringing Maggie up there to watch it with her friend who is admitted there, but decided that was not right.

I am seeing the hospital through different eyes as an "employee" (really more of a contractor.)  I don't have the bleary- eyed, worried, tunnel-visioned feeling that I have when Maggie is in there. Of course I noticed the kids cruising around the halls in wagons or cars like these, but never appreciated it that much because I was always in my head. When I take away the "worry brain" I can enjoy the magic a little more. Generally you see  kids in these cars with mom or dad rolling the IV pole behind them. They are all making the best of being in the hospital.

Yesterday as I came around the corner, I saw all these cars lined up and just cracked up at the look of them, including the sanitizing wipes on the wall above them. If  you know how freaking impossible it is to park at UCSF, you will appreciate this even more.

In like a lion indeed

March is not starting well.

We went to Social Security and after 90minutes they decided we need to do a phone application on Monday - for another 90 minutes. Sigh. Ok. There were definitely high/hilarious parts of that visit which I will put in a separate post

We left there and I took Maggie to school. As I left the school, I got in a slight fender bender with another car. No one was hurt but both cars are damaged. We were completely blocking traffic so once we disentangled, we pulled over to trade information. I was right in front of Maggie's high school and pulled onto the only available open spot, a bus zone. The other driver was right behind me. She was a very nice woman and because it is pouring rain, she invited me to sit in her car and we traded information.

As I sat there I saw the ticket guy and jumped out of the car to explain why we were stopped there. He didn't care he had already written the tickets for both of us. $255 for stopping in a bus zone in addition to whatever the damage to the car is and the deductible and and and.....  Now the other driver and I are united in our fight against these tickets. 

Waiting for the "out like a lamb part"

I Am Not a Crook

The budget crises in California is legendary. Everything has been cut to the bone and some things eliminated altogether. Things are much harder for disabled children then they were when Maggie was young, that is for sure. Parents have to fight much harder and pay much more for less services than were available to Maggie when she was young. From the sounds of it, things will get worse before -- or if – they ever get better.

It’s not only services for the disabled that are cut, of course. All services are effected, including police and fire departments.  A man was killed in Berkeley over the weekend because cops were only responding to emergency calls and the victom’s call to the police was made to the local number instead of  911. Ridiculous and tragic. A friend of ours witnessed an assault and called 911 but the police never responded.  After 30 minutes of bleeding,  the victim simply got up and walked shakily away over the protestations of our friend and another witness.  Now in addition to a crime, there is a public health situation because the man was dripping blood as he walked away.  In another instance a friend was “jumped” and dissuaded by the police from filing a report. Since she could never have identified her assailant, she went along with that.

If the police cannot respond to or don’t want to file a report in those situations,  all serious crimes,  someone has to tell me why a cop can make a u-turn across Geary Street, a six lane street, to cite my son for littering. LITTERING.  (Admittedly, he did dispose of a free sample of some drink inappropriately, as did 25 other people because the only trash can was locked.) Never mind, I already know the answer. This infraction is income generating while unsolvable assaults are not. The fine for littering is close to $500. That pays for the shift for the officer for the night.

I’m generally not so jaded, but it is difficult not to be.  Maggie’s school nurse was recently cited while parked in MY DRIVEWAY. We let her use the driveway everyday because there is two hour parking on the street and she is with Maggie at school for 7 hours. She would be ticketed every single day. She drives a van which just fits in the driveway. One day her car was less than an inch over the line and she was hit with a $100 ticket for blocking the sidewalk.

The second line is the key and her bumper is about 1 inch over it. Ironically, this line is the boundary to insure that a wheelchair can get by behind the car. She is parking there because of a wheelchair user and still gets tagged. We explained that in our letter to the Parking and Traffic department including this picture of Maggie getting by the car on the side and explaining that she could easily pass in the back.

I also explained that we have given up our driveway, that we have five or six nurses that care for Maggie and there is no pass available that can be shared among the nurses.  Result: tough bananas. The $100 fine stands because it is possible for us to purchase a pass for each nurse at a total cost of $500 or 600. This is after we have paid the city $200 ourselves for the privilege of parking on our own street for more than two hours at a time. 

I call foul.

It seems to me that the budget crises is being solved on the backs of the honest citizenry.  Crooks who assault people walk away because the cops don’t have the manpower to respond, but skirt a law that generates income for the city and they find a way to be there.

I am not a crook, and I’m paying for that.  

What do you DO all day?

For those who still ask "What do you DO all day," here's my day today.

Maggie had some medical tests today that meant she could not have any food after 8AM. We kept the night feeds going until 7 and then I fed her at 7:30. She had to go hungry until 2PM. That's a long time for Maggie who gets a feeding every two hours.

We headed downstairs and the school bus was 40 minutes late. I didn't call until it was about 25 minutes late and then they said another 10 minutes. We waited, but that definitely threw off my timing for the day. I took a shower, prepared paperwork for the afternoon appointments and waited for a contractor to come at 10 so he could take the ceiling lift back for repairs. He called at 10 and moved things to 12:30. Grr. Ok.

I head downtown to pick up the check for the nursing, which is available on the 11th of the month. Of course there was a mix up that delayed things for several minutes and  I had to dash home to get there before the contractor. No time to put the check in the bank. I'll have to do it after Maggie's tests.  He arrived and wanted to test the loaner machine. I was eying the clock because I had to get Maggie. He left, and I raced over to Mission high to pick her up.

I swear I missed every single light on the way back across town. When you are sitting at a light saying "Please turn green" over and over, you know you are cutting things close.

We get to the hospital at 1:45 and there is no place to park. No place for about six blocks. I went into the lot behind the nearby market and figured I would get a validation when I came back an hour later. It' s a little scammy, but I was desperate. We arrive on the stroke of 2 and the tests started right on time. They took a lot longer than I expected and one was HORRIBLE for Maggie. She was frantic and sobbing. I'm happy to be there to comfort her, but its very hard to watch and I feel like a co conspirator. We get out of there about 4:15. Maggie is fine, but still upset.

I walk back to the parking lot, buy an iced coffee I really don't want in order to get my ticket validated, load Maggie's chair into the car (right in front of the guy in the ticket booth) pull out and hand him the ticket. My two hour validation is expired. I need an extra $5 to get out. That's fine, but I cannot find my cash. I offer him the visa and he say no cash only. He tells me me there is an ATM around the block. There is NO WAY IN HELL I am going to unload Maggie again. I pull over so others can get by and search through my enormous purse because I KNOW there is cash in there somewhere. I contemplate making a run for it, but decide that's beneath me. I cannot find the cash.  I was going to just give him my business card and tell him I would be back in 30 minutes with cash but I had to get her home for her treatments. Maggie is whimpering a bit but not crying any more.

I decided to calm down a little bit and look again. I put the coffee down on the seat between my knees, and calmly look in the various slots in my bag. I feel something cold and realize the coffee is all over my khaki pants. Lovely. Just then I  find the cash. Who cares about he pants. Let's go HOME. I walk over and hand it to the guy who just looks at me sympathetically.

We get home and Maggie is overdue for her treatments. She is still upset by the NG Tube they had to shove up her nose. I don't blame her. I am too.

I hop in the shower for the second time today. Never did get that check to the bank. It has to clear by Thursday so I can pay the nurses. I will have to juggle some funds to make that happen. But that's tomorrows problem.

Now I have to go to a meeting at a different hospital. In fact I'm late.

I sure hope there's parking.

Lucky Wednesday after Bad Tuesday

Yesterday was not fun. Maggie's scare in the middle of the night and the sleeplessness that followed were a bad start. However, after posting yesterday, I realized the guilt train was going nowhere and jumped off.  Incidents in the middle of the night are just one of the many reasons she has a nurse at her side. Maggie is fine. The nurse did what she was supposed to do.

The day got worse before it got better, though. I was eating a lovely cous cous salad with kalamata olives for lunch. Healthy...or so I thought.  I was unaware that the olives had pits and broke a tooth clean off. Arrgh. What's worse? The actual breaking of the tooth (which COMPLETELY grosses me out), the pain of sitting in the dentist chair to get it repaired or the shock of the fee. None if it is fun.

My dentist was on vacation and I had to call someone else. I called one of the three dentists who covered emergencies when my guy is out of town. I had no connection to any of them and just randomly picked one.   As I relayed my tale of woe, the kindly woman on the phone said they could help and asked my name. I told her Sally McDonald,  but Sara for insurance purposes. (Yes my given name is Sara but no one has ever called me that.)

There was a pause and then she said, "Is your maiden name Coghlan?"  Whaaaa? How could she possibly know that. I use both names professionally and on my email etc, but not in conversation. I thought about it a moment and could think of one friend who worked in a dentists office. "Kennedy? Is that you?" Sure enough. my old friend Kathy Kennedy was the receptionist. We go back to grammar school and high school days, which is a long time. We still get together for the occasional lunch or other soiree.  If you've been here long enough, San Francisco becomes  a very small town, even though it is a large city.  Knowing she was there  took away a lot of the fear of dealing with a new dentist. Score.

My appointment was at 8:45 but I had to make a quick trip to UCSF to drop off more lab work for Miss Maggie first.  Generally "quick" and "UCSF" don't belong in the same sentence, but today it really was. I had to pull into the 8 story parking structure because there is no place to park, but I whipped in, dropped off the stuff and whipped back to the car. Much to my delight, they didn't charge me the $3 parking fee because I was less than 10 minutes. Score!

As I left my friend Kathy called to tell me I might have to call another dentist because there was no assistant available. Since I was already en route I said, let's see what he can do. I feared I would be referred for a root canal anyway. Glad I didn't cancel.  He worked some magic that was almost painless and will keep things covered until my own dentist can return and make a crown. I can smile without looking like a hobo and breathe in air without pain.  Score again.

It seems this is my lucky day, which is a good thing because tonight I am participating in a trivia contest tonight to benefit Advokids and their work with children in foster care. Not sure how it will go but I will finally have a forum to air my cache of useless knowledge.

But first I will buy a lottery ticket.

Can I park here?

I had to buy a case of diapers yesterday. Maggie gets diapers from the state but it's not quite enough to last the whole month. She uses 8 - 10 diapers a day (don't be jealous of me or her) They send two cases, but we probably need 2.5. . so I have to augment the supply with a case every couple of months. We were down to one pack (about a day and a half) and the supply wasn't coming until Monday. Time to stock up.

There are a number of retail medical supply companies around here so it's easily done. The one I use is on Clement Street. Clement Street is a very busy retail area maybe 10-11 blocks long full of little shops and dozens of restaurants and Chinese Markets. Who else can buy a case of diapers, dim sum and fresh fish without moving the car?

 You can't consider moving the car. You park ONCE on Clement Street. It is congested and parking is always a bit tricky. I had to park somewhat close because I had to consider getting the giant box back of diapers back to the car. There was nothing on the block with the store, but I found a spot on the next block. A case of diapers is actually heavy, but it's also very cumbersome to carry.  I am only 5 weeks post shoulder surgery and I don't want to undo any of the progress I've made.
I purchased the case of diapers for $75 and walked back up the street unable to see very well. My shoulder was killing me. I arrived at the car and "thunked" the giant box onto the hood of the van. The hood is angled, so I had to balance it with my body as I fished for my keys in my pocket. I pushed the button on the key and didn't really hear the door unlock, but kept on my mission. The dog was in the car and I could see him out of the corner of my eye.
Or so I thought.

As I reached to open the sliding door behind the drivers seat I realized it wasn't the dog, but a person on the front seat. She was reclined and sleeping very peacefully. I almost had a heart attack and shrieked some expletive. I stumbled back to the curb with my giant box. Though I dropped a large box on the hood, shrieked, swore and tried to open her door, the person never woke up. My heart was pounding. What on earth was this woman doing in my car? Then I realized it was the wrong car. My van was three spots further down the street. I felt like an idiot.

Twenty minutes after arriving home, the doorbell rang and a delivery man delivered the two giant cases of diapers and another case of other supplies Maggie gets every month.. Yes, they arrived three days early and I didn't even need to make the purchase. Nothing will go to waste, it's just a question of storage.

I'll bet that sleeping woman had some strange dreams. I know I did, but at least they made sense to me.

The morning after

Ahhh, Tuesday morning after a long weekend. I can finally relax. Maggie was off to school and I was enjoying a cup of coffee and a telephone chat with my sister. I was looking out the front window as we talked marveling at all the parking places. That never happens except on street cleaning day. OH CRAP. It is the 3rd Tuesday of the month. I hung up on my sister mid sentence and yelled for Steve. Both cars are parked on the street cleaning side and the cop was working his way down the street. I ran around looking for my purse and ran outside assuming I was too late. However, Steve managed to get to the guy before he wrote the ticket for my car. Steve’s car was already nailed. I prefer to think we SAVED $63 because we only got one ticket.

So much for the quiet morning.


It is a fitting end to a wacky weekend. The Olympics, a dinner party, a visiting rugby team, Valentine’s Day, Chinese New Year and visiting with friends. It was nonstop.

On Friday night, Maggie suddenly lost a tooth we did not even know was loose. That was freaky, but fine. At least she did not choke on it this time. Saturday was a big dinner party here with my mom, sister, brother, niece and her friend. They came over because Tim and a bunch of his rugby teammates were coming and we decided to make it a party. Just as I was putting the food in the oven, Tim called and said they might have pizza and might miss dinner. Ok, I am pretty flexible, but that was a bit much. Are six large hungry men coming to dinner after their rugby game or not? It makes a huge difference in the amount of food. I opted to cook it all anyway, because I figured they would probably eat whenever they showed up. They arrived just as we were finishing so we all moved into the living room and had a second seating for dinner. Yes, they had pizza and yes, they wanted dinner. The food was consumed. They were effusive in their praise, one saying he had not had a meal that good since Thanksgiving. That is nice, but they live in something akin to a fraternity house, cook for themselves and eat a lot of Top Ramen.

All six stayed here and on Valentine’s morning, I made 18 eggs and three lbs of bacon and a loaf of bread and sent them off to their game against USF. Steve and I spent a romantic Valentine’s afternoon at the Polo Fields in Golden Gate Park watching the match. It was very entertaining and Nevada won big. I am still unclear on all the rules of this game, but running into one another at high speeds is a huge part of it.

Monday I met some friends for lunch, which is always fun and watched the Olympics all weekend. I absolutely love the short track skating. It is so exciting. All the speed skating is great as is the skiing. After that luge catastrophe, I could not bring myself to watch that. Unlike most Americans, or at least American women, I do not like all the figure skating. I do like the individual stuff at the end, but the pairs and the Ice dancing just does not do it for me.

My friend Grace called and stopped over for a visit. She lives in New York, but is here visiting her mom for Chinese New Year. She has a new cookbook coming out in May called Stir Frying to the Sky’s Edge (check out pre reviews here (http://books.simonandschuster.com/Stir-Frying-to-Sky's-Edge/Grace-Young/9781416580577) Looks like another winner. I am going to buy a copy for next time the Rugby team comes over.

For now, I think I will just pay the parking ticket and rejoice that there weren’t two.

Just park the car...

I live in a city that has more cars than places to put them. That means parking in San Francisco is often a competitive sport. People think we have it easier because we have a handicapped parking placard. That only works if Maggie is with me in the car and I never use it when she is not. One, it’s not right and two, the fines are CRAZY – like $750 or something. Out here in “the avenues” where I live, parking is not that bad, at least during the day. Nighttime is a different story, though. It is not unusual to circle for 20 minutes looking for parking.

We have two cars and we have a house that has a garage for one car and a driveway for the other. Theoretically. We cannot really use the garage to park a vehicle because we need to get the wheelchair through the garage to the elevator in the backyard. There isn’t room for both. Because of that, the garage has slowly filled up with stuff. It is ridiculous and out of control. I have to fight to keep a path wide enough for the chair to get through. It would not surprise me if Oprah showed up to expose this so that the viewing public could marvel at how strange this is and blame our behavior on the stress of having a disabled child. Actually, we just have too much junk.

Even without a spot in the garage, we still have the driveway, right? Well, not really. We leave the driveway open for the night nurse because it is impossible to find parking at 11:00PM. Now we cannot use it during the day much either. Recently, the City made our street a two-hour parking zone. Because we are residents, we have a permit that allows us to park on the street all day. The permit, a sticker on the bumper cost a lot, but far less than the inevitable parking tickets I would get. The school nurse brings her car here and rides the bus with Maggie. Her car is here all day every school day. Now I give her the driveway during the day so she won’t be ticketed every single day. That means I have free rein to use my driveway from 3PM until 11:00PM every day. However, I had better get the car parked on the street before 11:00PM or I can plan to spend 20 minutes searching.

On top of this constant dance, there is street cleaning. You cannot legally park your car on the side of the street being cleaned on certain days. On our side of the street, it’s the first and third Tuesdays from 8-10 AM. On the other side, it’s the first and third Thursdays. It used to be every week, which was actually easier to remember. Now I feel like I have to consult a sundial and a calendar to determine whether I have to move the car. In October, there were five Thursdays but only four Tuesdays. It is too much information to process. We have to pay $53 a pop when we forget, which is definitely several times a year. Inevitably, I hear the street cleaner coming and yell, “Where are the Cars?” but by that time, it’s too late. The parking ticket people come before the street cleaner. Perhaps today I will pay for the ticket we got two weeks ago.

The picture is of the parking signs on our street. There's my van with the obligatory sticker on the rear bumper and the nurses van sticking out of my driveway.

Today is the first Thursday and both cars were on the wrong side. I put Maggie on the bus and saw there was no parking available yet. I needed to wait for people to start leaving for work. I set the timer so I would not forget. At 7:50, I moved both cars to our side where they could sit until 12 days from now when they clean our side.

Unfortunately, we may have to use them between now and then.

Today's Gratitude: I'm thankful for my kitchen timer.