Miscellaneous Ramblings

I'm going to start playing racquetball again tomorrow.  I haven't played since bursitis struck a few weeks ago.  Even though my elbow has been slowly getting better, the process hasn't been any fun.  Three days after the initial diagnosis and draining of the bursa, a nasty infection set in, and I ended up at Urgent Care (Group Health's version of an emergency room) for IV antibiotics and some serious, i.e., Rush Limbaugh-style, painkillers. Last week, I went to see an orthopedic doctor who really wasn't much help.  He took some x-rays and told me I had some small bone chips floating around in the elbow, but there really wasn't a whole lot he could do to speed the healing. I asked him if it would be OK to play racquetball, and he essentially said that if it feels good, do it. For the last while, I've had full range of motion of the elbow, the swelling is mostly gone, and no pain unless I inadvertently bump the elbow. So I'm going smack the living bejeezus out of a ball and see how it feels. It's about time I get some exercise, I'm feeling and looking far fatter than I should.

Last Monday, I went for an interview, and Holy Cow!! I've actually got a job. Well, not a real job, but a volunteer position putting my newly-minted skills as an ESL teacher to a real-world test. For three hours a week, I'll help teach English to mostly Somali refugees. There are two levels of classes: a beginners class teaching the alphabet and other rudiments we take for granted, and a more advanced class of conversation and basic writing skills. Most of these people are illiterate even in their own language, so this will be an interesting challenge.  I've signed on for a two month hitch, and if the fit is good, I might take on another three hour class.  I'll keep you posted.

Farley is doing pretty well. When the weather's good, I've been taking him for daily bicycle runs.  Sometimes it seems to be working and I have some hope that he's starting to understand what it takes to be a "good dog." He doesn't always jump up on everybody, and sometimes we can actually pass other dogs on the street without him going bat-shit crazy.  Other times, I think it's hopeless and that the exercise regime he's on is only making him fitter and thereby increasing his supply of piss and vinegar. In any case, he's a fuzzy ball of love, and it's hard to get too angry with him for too long about his over-the-top exuberance.