October has been a busy little month and we haven’t even hit double digits yet. Eek!
October 1st I was the keynote speaker at the Missouri Library Association conference. The speech went well, and it was wonderful to be around so many people that love books. Librarians rock! Hey to Ann, whose fault it all was for asking me to attend some three years ago. Jon bought a walker with a seat so he could use it at the conference. Standing is the worst thing for his knee, and he goes in for surgery very soon.
October 2nd knee more swollen. So much so, that Jon agreed that we should rent a wheelchair for him. You know when a man says, yes, to something like that, he’s hurting. Same thing for the walker, I guess. So, when we picked up friends, Wendi and Daven, from the airport Jon was in his new wheels. Took them to check in at the hotel and met Charles in the lobby. Archon had officially begun, though opening ceremonies wouldn’t be until the next day. Charles wanted to take us all around to room parties, but with the Jon’s knee, and Wendi having her own bad knee we stayed with our spouses, and we just all visited in the room where our spouses could sit down and rest their wounded limbs. Jon’s knee surgery is next week and Wendi’s is in a few weeks; our poor wounded darlings.
October 3rd Jon woke up with the knee even worse. So bad we doubted whether he was going to the con, at all. Not good. Daven had offered to be a minion. I’d sort of laughed it off, and said, they should just have fun at the con. That morning I was not laughing. That morning I called Daven and asked if the offer to be our minion was still on. He said, he’d meant it, what did I need. I told him about Jon, and he said they, he and Wendi, would meet us in the lobby. We called Charles, of course, too, but he couldn’t be security and keep an eye out for threats, and help me take care of Jon. I needed more hands on deck. Lucky for me, I had them.
I honestly don’t know what I would have done if Daven and Wendi had not been there. I just wish I had a picture of Daven pushing Jon in the wheelchair. Both of them in their utilita kilts, boots the first day (Jon would have to loose the boots next day, too heavy), black Goth t-shirts, long hair braided, and both just so cute. Wendi and I did a lot of trailing after them. Wendi did a lot of knitting, too, though not while we were trailing after the chair. They are boys, and the wheelchair could move pretty fast. Occasionally it was too big a temptation. One of the hardest things about the con for us was that there was no handicap ramp between the two hotels. So, every change of hotel for an event we had to put Jon back in the truck and drive over. That took time, and meant I was a few minutes late for a few things. But we made it, eventually.
By Saturday night Jon was hurting so badly that he chose to be a grown-up and stay in the room while I helped judge the masquerade. One of the things that contributed to him being a grown-up about it was him getting us to a signing an hour early, because he looked at his watch wrong. As I listened to him interact with the fans that were in already in line, I realized that the pain killers had hit. We finally got free of the early line and promised to come back on time, but Daven got to help Jon do his end of the line. Because Jon was loopy on pain meds. Happy, but loopy. But it was either loopy on pain meds, or hurting too badly to function well. We had to weigh that choice all convention.
So, Charles, his wife Kathy, (who got to join us for Saturday and Sunday) Wendi, Daven, and I, went off to see the costumes. Jon was tucked up in bed with a book, the telly, and pain meds. The dress I was wearing had no pockets, of course, and Kathy was kind enough to offer to carry some stuff for me in her pockets. I’d forgotten to bring a small purse, and the briefcase seemed a bit much.
The masquerade was amazing, and hard to choose winners among so many wonderful creations. It took over three hours to see it all, and judge it all, so by the time it was all over, though we had invites for parties, I had to check on Jon. He was fine, in fact feeling much better for having elevated his knee for all that time. He’d also watched six episodes of South Park, and COPS.
Charles and Kathy went off to do the room parties while the rest of us stayed in and talked, so that Jon could continue to prop his knee up, and we could still visit. I think Wendi had changed her knitting project by that time. I have really got to get myself a hobby of some kind. The knitting was cool because you can take it where ever you go. Charles’s hobbies are too big too travel, cars and motorcycles and such. Though, knitting isn’t my thing, I’ve tried it, and trust me, you want me to sew or knit about as much as you want me to give you directions. Which means, not at all.
Sunday arrived and Daven and Wendi had to catch a plane back home. Kathy took them to the airport and suddenly it was just Jon, Charles, and me. We had another signing to do, and Jon did not take his meds so he could do his job at the signing. After the signing my arm hurt enough I could not push the wheelchair (this was my third signing for the con), so Charles got to do chair duty. Yes, it lowered his tactical advantage a little, but with one arm, I just couldn’t do it. I missed my minions.
