I drove out to see the new babe today and the rest of the family. It was incredibly snowy at my place, but it was a lot less the further I got out and by the time I arrived at my brother's, there was only about 2" or so on the ground.

Spent a couple hours playing with Hayley (she cooked me up a great little dish of Spicy Barrel o'monkey on her pretend stove), and holding Alex. There is something infinitely calming about taking a fussy baby and quieting them down just by rocking and talking. Shan is suffering from migraines today so I looked after the kids for a bit so she could have a rest. Alex is already changing in his first 5 days of life. He has such different features than Hayley did at that age, but at the same time, they have a bit of a resemblance too. Same noses, that's for sure. But Alex has a much more furrowed brow and already looks almost 'boyish'.

I left around 4pm and called my mom to see what they were up to. Mom sounded very stressed on the phone. I knew they had been at my house as they're planning to do some renovations here over the next couple weeks.

'Is everything ok?', I asked.
'Well, we didn't have to get the ambulance if that's what you mean' she replied.

Um, pardon? What the hell happened?

My dad is 72. He is having quite a hard time slowing down, or accepting he's not a kid anymore. He's always tinkering with something, be it my electricity or plumbing or building some new thing to try out.

A couple years ago, he built me a loft above my 3rd bedroom. It's great for storage and I just love it, but he went one step further. He built a ladder himself so it fit perfectly up to the loft. Or at least, looked like it did. The thing scares me. It totally freaks me out so I barely ever get up there. It's a little rickety and I just don't trust it.

Apparently, with good reason. He was about 2 rungs down from the top today, when it gave way. He came down a good 10 feet, with his legs stuck through the rungs and then the ladder landed on top of him.

Molly being the ever so faithful companion ran for her kennel.

My Mom ran upstairs to find him not able to move, stunned and with his legs tangled with the broken ladder. She asked him if he was ok, and he answered he didn't know.

He sat like that for a good 15 minutes apparently, then tried to stand. He was able to, but his knees and ankles were very sore. 'Nothing broke, I'm fine', he said.

They went home shortly after. My mom has butterfly-bandaged a cut on his hand, and he's got ice on his knees and ankle. His back is starting to scream but he keeps saying he's fine.

I called a few minutes ago and ask him again how he was. 'Well, I'm not running a marathon tomorrow, if that's what you're asking.'

I asked him to go to the doctor tomorrow, just to be certain. 'What the hell would I do that for? I'm not broken, for cripe's sake'.

Crochety old koot!