Law Abiding Citizen

Blah blah blah random. But look! A theme! Tying it together! Not a stretch at all!

Newton’s First Law of Motion (An object in motion tends to stay in motion) I received my new orthotics on Thursday. My feet have been pretty tired at the end of each day since, but I haven’t had any foot pain since. I’ve been doing a lot more walking. I find the more I walk, the easier it is to walk. If I walk to work (from my parking lot instead of taking the shuttle), I am much more likely to get my 10,000 steps in during the day. On Thursday and Friday, I even took the long route back to my car. After timing it, it turns out that the long route, while 1.3 miles further than the shorter route, actually only takes about 10 minutes longer. The shorter route involves relying on other methods of transportation for part of the trip, instead of just my own feet. My own feet are now much more reliable.

I’m feeling so good with my feet, in fact, that I think I’m going to start running again this week. I’m sure I have plenty of time to ramp up for the Portland marathon, right? I can go from zero to twenty-six point two in three weeks!

Portland City Code Chapter 14B.85: I am doing a new landscaping project that involves digging a large hole. Before starting to dig, I (a) did not call the “call before you dig” hotline to find out where my utility lines were buried and (b) outlined the boundaries of my hole with spray paint. And then I left the empty can next to my large, vaguely kidney-ish shaped outline overnight. Just as I was going to bed, I realized the can was still outside. In order to purchase one of those cans, you have to produce ID and swear an affadavit that you’re not going to go on a mad tagging spree (that last might be a slight exaggeration). I worried that it would look bad if I left it outside overnight, but it was empty and the house alarm was already on, so I went to bed. I then spent a few minutes worrying about whether or not you had to call before you dug every time, or if it was acceptable to just remember where the buried utility lines were. After all, it seems unlikely that NW Natural installed new gas lines without me knowing, right?

Saturday night I had a dream that I was out digging during Alvie’s nap (about the only time I can dig without having to drop my shovel every 10 seconds to determine the whereabouts of my surprisingly speedy kid) while the architect was on this bike ride. So far, so realistically boring. But then! The cops showed up to arrest me for graffiti-ing my yard. And leaving out the evidence with my finger prints all over it. (And presumably for not calling for the location of my buried utilities.) When I requested they not haul me off to the hoosegow because my child was inside sleeping, they slapped me with additional charges of child neglect, since I was outside and not close enough to take care of him. And then they took me to jail without allowing me to find someone to care for my child. Who then promptly died. (It was as bad as it was unlikely.)

Murphy’s Law: No matter what, I assume that this law is as immutable as Newton’s Universal Law of Gravitation (which trips me up often). I assume that things are going to be difficult. That if there is the barest possibility of getting lost, that I will get lost. If there is a slight chance of being late, I will be late. If there is something over which I can trip, I will trip over it. My son may be turning out to be the equal victim of those pranksters Murphy and Gravity. He fell into a blackberry bramble last weekend and was scraped up. (He told me a story about the mean plants and they didn’t even say sorry!) He tripped on our patio and scraped his knee on a blueberry (or more likely, on the concrete next to the blueberry). And yesterday, he ran headlong into the measuring tape I had on my jeans, scraping his cheek. Then, he tripped into the sandbox, scraping his ankle and leg. Later, he and his friend were running laps around the house and he was barreling straight towards my foot-deep hole (the first part of my landscape project). “Look out!” I yelled, non-specifically. Alvie looked out, and leapt gracefully, like the gazelle which is my namesake, and cleared the hole. I was very impressed. He and his friend then devised a new game of jumping over the hole (a foot deep, but only about 4-5 inches across. Of course he almost immediately fell in. And then a bit later, he tripped and thunked his head on something else. I’m thinking a bubble wrap suit and a helmet might be under the tree this year. Apple didn’t fall far from the tree on that one. (PUN OVERLOAD! ARGGGHHHH!)

This doesn't look dangerous at all.

This doesn’t look dangerous at all.

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