Sorry that my notes have been so few and far between. I think I caught the bug my girl Betty had last week and I have been battling a nasty fever and deep cough since Friday night.
Saturday, I thought I'd go outside and "blow the stink off" as my mom would say - so I went out with the ax and cleared a bit more of the area that will be my garden by the end of February. It was good to work up a sweat and my breathing seemed better - so of course I pushed it too far and by 1 I was ready for a nap.
After crashing for a little bit, we went to my first Arena football game. Now, knowing that I cannot get enough of a good football game, there is no doubt I enjoyed it. It was kind of like a cross between hockey and football - complete with DJ and loud music. Oddly enough, the only thing missing was the long pass. Since the field is only 50 yards long, there were none of those beautiful 40 yard passes. Overall, a worthwhile venture and good way to have football until nearly May!
Something that made me think, though. The cheerleaders were beautiful - I mean really beautiful, not just the overly made-up kind of pretty. But they had uniforms that cut right below the belly button - making even these muscular, thin girls look like they were carrying a poochy belly. Whose idea was this - and why would the girls who of obviously work carefully on their appearance tolerate it? Now I know better than to wear such a thing myself, being the veteran of three births, but these are young girls and still should have protested.
Okay - enough ranting - I'm off to see some patients! Hope you are having a great day.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Friday, January 27, 2006
Dinna fash ye' self
That phrase just keeps going over and over in my brain- perhaps too many readings of those Outlander books. But being a romantic to the coer, I am ready for the hero on horseback to come riding in and rescue me from what feels like a life gone amiss.
But in a way, maybe the phrase is helping me keep it all together. You see, all that strength and character - it is a fascade - it is who i want to be.... and then day after day I try to live up to it and
sometimes I actually succeed, much to my own surprise. I'm really not that strong, it is just that the buck stops with me and if I don't do it, there isn't anyone who will - so what appears as personal strength is really the result of necessity. Single parenting for nearly 17 years will do that to you - make you feel like you stand alone against the howling winds.
I was broke once - really broke - when Jerra and I lived on the food that came from the WIC certificates and little else. She got three meals at daycare, and I feasted on peanut butter and Chex because that is all I had. Child support would have been nice back then, but Joe ( ex #1) didn't think I needed it -didn't think it was his responsibility to hold up his end of the deal. So I made due - having made my bed, I was obliged to lie in it.
Once I got out of college and started making some money, I filled the pantry. I have this fear of running out of food. That is a weird thing, I guess, for a girl who struggles with weight, but I find myself feeling a knot in my gut everytime the freezer has empty space or the shelves in the pantry run low. I wonder at times if that period has a lot to do with how I struggle with food and weight - but that is a whole other post.
I remember that time, and I am having a lot of those same feelings. I wonder exactly how broke we can get before I have to start making big cuts in the way we live. I worry that we will run low, even though that is totally irrational, but I think that is worrying me as much as anything else. Did you ever notice that once one fear gets hold that it is so much easier for others to piggyback on?
So I decided this morning that I need to take James Frasier's advice: Dinna fash ye' self.
But in a way, maybe the phrase is helping me keep it all together. You see, all that strength and character - it is a fascade - it is who i want to be.... and then day after day I try to live up to it and
sometimes I actually succeed, much to my own surprise. I'm really not that strong, it is just that the buck stops with me and if I don't do it, there isn't anyone who will - so what appears as personal strength is really the result of necessity. Single parenting for nearly 17 years will do that to you - make you feel like you stand alone against the howling winds.
I was broke once - really broke - when Jerra and I lived on the food that came from the WIC certificates and little else. She got three meals at daycare, and I feasted on peanut butter and Chex because that is all I had. Child support would have been nice back then, but Joe ( ex #1) didn't think I needed it -didn't think it was his responsibility to hold up his end of the deal. So I made due - having made my bed, I was obliged to lie in it.
Once I got out of college and started making some money, I filled the pantry. I have this fear of running out of food. That is a weird thing, I guess, for a girl who struggles with weight, but I find myself feeling a knot in my gut everytime the freezer has empty space or the shelves in the pantry run low. I wonder at times if that period has a lot to do with how I struggle with food and weight - but that is a whole other post.
I remember that time, and I am having a lot of those same feelings. I wonder exactly how broke we can get before I have to start making big cuts in the way we live. I worry that we will run low, even though that is totally irrational, but I think that is worrying me as much as anything else. Did you ever notice that once one fear gets hold that it is so much easier for others to piggyback on?
So I decided this morning that I need to take James Frasier's advice: Dinna fash ye' self.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Under pressure
St. Therese's Prayer
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you....
May you be content knowing you are a child of God....
Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
My mom sent this to me this morning. I needed to see it. The past few months have been a long haul for me. The pressure of Justin's lay off and the other mortgage as well as our bills and our mortgage being placed squarely on my shoulders has really been weighing heavily on me. Add in a couple of teenagers and thier issues and my dad battling cancer and have been no prize to live with.
Now the people that I live with haven't exactly been helpful. While I love them and they all have their adorable traits- the inability to do what I ask of them in a timely manner is just exasperating. I repeat the requests over and over, a half-assed job may be done - but three more requests will come before it gets done. It is no wonder that I am exhausted and cranky. I don't know any other way to get help other than to ask specifically - and short of using the advice I was given to nag until they are so tired of hearing me that they do what is asked - I don't know what else to do.
I worry about finances, but I have been broke before and my pantry is stocked with way more than enough food to keep us fat for months. Sometimes I forget that time and time again God has been there with something unexpected - child support I hadn't been receiving starts coming in, a raise , an insurance pay out. I haven't gone hungry since Bear was a very little girl. Time and time again I feel like things will crumble, like I can't take the pressure. And then I have to remind myself that I am in fact not the manager of the Universe - that job belongs to someone else and that I should stop trying to do it.
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you....
May you be content knowing you are a child of God....
Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
My mom sent this to me this morning. I needed to see it. The past few months have been a long haul for me. The pressure of Justin's lay off and the other mortgage as well as our bills and our mortgage being placed squarely on my shoulders has really been weighing heavily on me. Add in a couple of teenagers and thier issues and my dad battling cancer and have been no prize to live with.
Now the people that I live with haven't exactly been helpful. While I love them and they all have their adorable traits- the inability to do what I ask of them in a timely manner is just exasperating. I repeat the requests over and over, a half-assed job may be done - but three more requests will come before it gets done. It is no wonder that I am exhausted and cranky. I don't know any other way to get help other than to ask specifically - and short of using the advice I was given to nag until they are so tired of hearing me that they do what is asked - I don't know what else to do.
I worry about finances, but I have been broke before and my pantry is stocked with way more than enough food to keep us fat for months. Sometimes I forget that time and time again God has been there with something unexpected - child support I hadn't been receiving starts coming in, a raise , an insurance pay out. I haven't gone hungry since Bear was a very little girl. Time and time again I feel like things will crumble, like I can't take the pressure. And then I have to remind myself that I am in fact not the manager of the Universe - that job belongs to someone else and that I should stop trying to do it.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Smile, It's a Sunny day outside, Raise your hands
Sometimes I have to let the nurse in me shine through - so here is a little public service announcement. I worked ER for a number of years where I learned that time is muscle in a heart attack and time is brain in a stroke. Knowing the symptoms of a heart attack or stroke and being able to identify them can make all the difference in the world. When my dad had a heart attack, he wasn't sure it was his heart - but he took the aspirin anyway - and went to the ER. Turned out that the aspirin helped - and it was in fact a heart attack.
A friend who has struggled with heart problems over the years sent this to me by e-mail. It is not the snazziest tune - but you won't forget the way to test for signs of a stroke.
http://www.thestrokesong.com/
And for heaven's sake - if you think someone is having a heart attack or stroke, do not drive them yourself- -let the EMTs/paramedics get to them and start an IV and medication at the scene - because time is of the essence.
A friend who has struggled with heart problems over the years sent this to me by e-mail. It is not the snazziest tune - but you won't forget the way to test for signs of a stroke.
http://www.thestrokesong.com/
And for heaven's sake - if you think someone is having a heart attack or stroke, do not drive them yourself- -let the EMTs/paramedics get to them and start an IV and medication at the scene - because time is of the essence.
Monday, January 23, 2006
The Parent Curse
On the way to look at a college this weekend, after checking out a new baby goat, my feet started burning. About a minute later, I found the pesky culprit fire ants crawling in my shoe. So I did what any sane person would do - I opened the window of a moving vehicle and brushed the ants into the wind.
Just as my daughter and husband said: Be careful not to drop your shoe.
And the shoe dropped..... along side the road..... where we couldn't turn around.
I seriously toyed with the idea of touring the college barefoot - or with one shoe
But we turned around and retrieved my less anty shoe and were on our way. ( not ant-free ind you because one little fellow had the audacity to bite me again about fifteen minutes after the first incident. I crushed him)
Parents, do not do this to your kids: Be careful not to_____( fill in the blank) because it is a parent curse and your child or significant other will immediately do whatever you filled in the blank with.
Just as my daughter and husband said: Be careful not to drop your shoe.
And the shoe dropped..... along side the road..... where we couldn't turn around.
I seriously toyed with the idea of touring the college barefoot - or with one shoe
But we turned around and retrieved my less anty shoe and were on our way. ( not ant-free ind you because one little fellow had the audacity to bite me again about fifteen minutes after the first incident. I crushed him)
Parents, do not do this to your kids: Be careful not to_____( fill in the blank) because it is a parent curse and your child or significant other will immediately do whatever you filled in the blank with.
Whose country is it anyway?
The other night I needed a break, so we went to see the Legend Of Zorro. While I enjoyed the movie, there was a bit of departure from the other version - but overall it was great. "nuff said about that.
The movie was set in the months before California was to become a state, right before the Civil War, and there was a lot of Spanish spoken. It took me by surprise - mostly because I think to Spanish speaking as a modern phenomenon - like people from south of the border just started coming to the United States. Let me first say that I stink at American history - I don't apologize exactly, but I should have paid more attention.
When we lived in Logansport, I am ashamed to admit it, but there were people there who talked about "those Mexicans". These same people had forgotten that their Irish and German and Italian ancestors didn't hop off the boat speaking English, and that there were lots of sections of town that were ethnocentric - where German or Italian could be heard fluently. My family has been here since the late1800's, and in one of my grandfather's family history lessons, he recounts how his grandmother - a Schmidt - would interpret English for the older folks who spoke German. Another friend, who was about ten years older than my folks, recounted interpreting the English into Italian for his older relatives when he was young.
I have seen countless families where this is the case - the younger generations interpreting for the older ones. Let me assure you that I see this in Spanish-speaking families and those from Bosnia, and Cuba, and China, and Japan and a number of other spots I can't even find on a map. I don't think this means the older people don't try to learn English - I think it means that English is hard to learn.
I remember being upset when my children repeated things about "Mexicans", so I did what any good parent would do - took them to an Indian Reservation where they were the only blonde kids in their classes - but that is another story.
We tried to learn Navajo - a spoken, not written language - and even though we were immersed, after two years I learned enough to ask for a bathroom - and that was about it. My kids, though, were nearly conversational in Navajo - because they learn it more readily than adults do.
When the United States was colonized, there were people from many countries who had grandparents who never mastered English. Frankly it is not an easy language. All through out the movie, there were people who spoke both English and Spanish - people who made up a good portion of California - people who named cities like Los Angeles and San Diego with the blatantly religious names they still carry.
It bothers me when I hear people say that if folks come to the United States, they should learn the language. It can be a real pain trying to find educational materials in other languages, or using an interpreter - but the truth is in an information age, we have to try to adapt to our audience. Even if someone knows enough English to ask for a bathroom, quoting pathophysiology to them and discussing hormone function in their second language is just asking for misunderstanding.
But mostly it bothers me because it means we have forgotten who we are - we are the descendants of people from all over the globe who decided to leave oppression in search of a dream - the dream of a better life. We are descendants of people who farmed the land, shoveled manure, hammered nails, built dams and felled trees - doing those dirty jobs that people who had lived here for a couple of generations didn't have to do anymore. Most of our family members who came here first did not speak English - except for those few of us descendant from the English settlers. My family spoke Gaelic, German, and maybe English - but who knows, that was about 130 years ago. They packed everything they could and came through Ellis Island without much - I saw the signature of Jacob Loner who came through in the 1800's - it was not the ornate, bold signature of a wealthy man, but the modest signature of a man who worked with his hands, whose son would grow up to have a lumberyard and build houses with his own sons.
It is important to know who you are, but more important to remember who you came from.
The movie was set in the months before California was to become a state, right before the Civil War, and there was a lot of Spanish spoken. It took me by surprise - mostly because I think to Spanish speaking as a modern phenomenon - like people from south of the border just started coming to the United States. Let me first say that I stink at American history - I don't apologize exactly, but I should have paid more attention.
When we lived in Logansport, I am ashamed to admit it, but there were people there who talked about "those Mexicans". These same people had forgotten that their Irish and German and Italian ancestors didn't hop off the boat speaking English, and that there were lots of sections of town that were ethnocentric - where German or Italian could be heard fluently. My family has been here since the late1800's, and in one of my grandfather's family history lessons, he recounts how his grandmother - a Schmidt - would interpret English for the older folks who spoke German. Another friend, who was about ten years older than my folks, recounted interpreting the English into Italian for his older relatives when he was young.
I have seen countless families where this is the case - the younger generations interpreting for the older ones. Let me assure you that I see this in Spanish-speaking families and those from Bosnia, and Cuba, and China, and Japan and a number of other spots I can't even find on a map. I don't think this means the older people don't try to learn English - I think it means that English is hard to learn.
I remember being upset when my children repeated things about "Mexicans", so I did what any good parent would do - took them to an Indian Reservation where they were the only blonde kids in their classes - but that is another story.
We tried to learn Navajo - a spoken, not written language - and even though we were immersed, after two years I learned enough to ask for a bathroom - and that was about it. My kids, though, were nearly conversational in Navajo - because they learn it more readily than adults do.
When the United States was colonized, there were people from many countries who had grandparents who never mastered English. Frankly it is not an easy language. All through out the movie, there were people who spoke both English and Spanish - people who made up a good portion of California - people who named cities like Los Angeles and San Diego with the blatantly religious names they still carry.
It bothers me when I hear people say that if folks come to the United States, they should learn the language. It can be a real pain trying to find educational materials in other languages, or using an interpreter - but the truth is in an information age, we have to try to adapt to our audience. Even if someone knows enough English to ask for a bathroom, quoting pathophysiology to them and discussing hormone function in their second language is just asking for misunderstanding.
But mostly it bothers me because it means we have forgotten who we are - we are the descendants of people from all over the globe who decided to leave oppression in search of a dream - the dream of a better life. We are descendants of people who farmed the land, shoveled manure, hammered nails, built dams and felled trees - doing those dirty jobs that people who had lived here for a couple of generations didn't have to do anymore. Most of our family members who came here first did not speak English - except for those few of us descendant from the English settlers. My family spoke Gaelic, German, and maybe English - but who knows, that was about 130 years ago. They packed everything they could and came through Ellis Island without much - I saw the signature of Jacob Loner who came through in the 1800's - it was not the ornate, bold signature of a wealthy man, but the modest signature of a man who worked with his hands, whose son would grow up to have a lumberyard and build houses with his own sons.
It is important to know who you are, but more important to remember who you came from.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Who do you wanna be?
When we play Monopoly, this is an easy choice - I am the garden cart.
A couple of years ago when Twister came out, I realized the answer to this. I want to be Aunt Meg - who cooks up eggs and steaks for everyone - full house complete with laughter and sweet tea. You know what made her character desireable? She genuinely LOVED the folks at her house - loved their presence, their oddities and she wasn't afraid to say so. Her character exemplified what I think is important - showing up in the first place. She knew the pain and wasn't afraid to talk about things that were hurtful - and in talking about them, she reafirmed and put the salve of understanding on a raw wound. And in true loner form, she wanted to drive herself to the hospital after the tornado- only her car was in a tree around the corner. I wonder when I am older if my house and my heart will be full like those scenes in the movie. I hope so.
I had a discussion with Josh about this - what we decide as a teenager, the choices we make about friends, and sports and how we behave will shape what kind of adult we are - and how people view us. I asked him to make his choices based on what kind of man he wanted to be - having now seen both good men like my dad and Justin, and very bad hateful men like the Ogre. Sometimes emulating someone you admire can be a good way to decide what to do when you are fourteen.
I wonder if my house will be a lot like Jim's house, with a plot of garden to feed us and a sustainable farm that is good for the land it rests on. I like that idea, it fills my head with good dreams about zinnias and the bright yellow squash blossoms and plump blueberries on the bushes.
Being a granola-head, a term I use way to frequently, doesn't necessarily apply to my politics - more to my religion. The same God who created me, also made the earth, and her stars and streams and birds and all the creatures. They are my brothers and sisters, crafted from the same consciousness, being the same spark in our Father's eye. And it seems only right to take care of those things we have been entrusted.St Francis of Assisi was my patron saint when I had the sacrament of Confirmation, and I think it was a good choice since he and I both preach to the birds.
Farm things I need to know
1. How do you become an official animal rescue? We have the acreage, we have the money (sufficient unto the day), and the animal numbers are climbing. I want to do this legally so that the new neighbors will be happy and we will be happy and legal.
2. Is there a way to get Advantix without a vet perscription? We have spent countless dollars at the vet, and I hate to keep giving up more and more money if there is a less expensive way to do it.
3. Is there a place online that I can buy milking supplies? I need a milk bucket and milk strainer cup - when I google this, I get weird answers and they scare me with their warped-ness.
4. Where in the world can you get persimmon trees - I love how they look and I have always wanted a tree. Now I need a border for the back yard, and I want to get fruit trees and bushes to absorb all that sunshine and give us a bit of fruit.
5. How could I have missed out on Brandy? Justin brought some home, since Father Patty said it should be mixed in with the fig preserves - holy moley - it was a beautiful thing.
Okay - if you posess the wisdon - or the time to find out the answers, send me a note or leave me a comment.
2. Is there a way to get Advantix without a vet perscription? We have spent countless dollars at the vet, and I hate to keep giving up more and more money if there is a less expensive way to do it.
3. Is there a place online that I can buy milking supplies? I need a milk bucket and milk strainer cup - when I google this, I get weird answers and they scare me with their warped-ness.
4. Where in the world can you get persimmon trees - I love how they look and I have always wanted a tree. Now I need a border for the back yard, and I want to get fruit trees and bushes to absorb all that sunshine and give us a bit of fruit.
5. How could I have missed out on Brandy? Justin brought some home, since Father Patty said it should be mixed in with the fig preserves - holy moley - it was a beautiful thing.
Okay - if you posess the wisdon - or the time to find out the answers, send me a note or leave me a comment.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Happy Birthday to me - I'm getting an ARK
Well, Ian said so. How cool would it be - and how nervous would our neighbors get -if we started piling up wood in our yard and boiling big vats of pitch. That coupled with the ever growing number of animals might make folks a wee bit nervous.
Our little creek might not tolerate a boat three stories high, but it could certainly float out to sea. Of course, the minivan probably wouldn't be able to trek that trailer, we might have to invest ina semi - but it would be worth it.
Maybe we should start construction now so that by the time Jake is through college, and all of our money is depleted, we will have somewhere for us and the animals to go!!! We would have to change the name of our place though, you can't really have a Ridge out at sea.
1987 was a pretty good year
My mother forwarded this to me - and I thought I would share it with you all - since I amsending my own child, born in 1987, off to college this fall.
The people who are starting college this fall across the nation were born in 1987 .
They are too young to remember the space shuttle blowing up.
Their lifetime has always included AIDS.
The CD was introduced the year they were born.
They have always had an answering machine
They have always had cable.
Jay Leno has always been on the Tonight Show.
Popcorn has always been cooked in the microwave.
They never took a swim and thought about Jaws.!
They don't know who Mork was or where he was from.
They never heard: "Where's the Beef?", "I'd walk a mile for a Camel", or "de plane Boss, de plane".
McDonald's never came in Styrofoam containers.
They don't have a clue how to use a typewriter
Do you feel old yet? (Sorry)
Save the earth. It's the only planet with chocolate!
You don't stop laughing because you grow old, you grow old because you stop laughing!
( and Justin, NO comments about how you were still in grade school!!)
The people who are starting college this fall across the nation were born in 1987 .
They are too young to remember the space shuttle blowing up.
Their lifetime has always included AIDS.
The CD was introduced the year they were born.
They have always had an answering machine
They have always had cable.
Jay Leno has always been on the Tonight Show.
Popcorn has always been cooked in the microwave.
They never took a swim and thought about Jaws.!
They don't know who Mork was or where he was from.
They never heard: "Where's the Beef?", "I'd walk a mile for a Camel", or "de plane Boss, de plane".
McDonald's never came in Styrofoam containers.
They don't have a clue how to use a typewriter
Do you feel old yet? (Sorry)
Save the earth. It's the only planet with chocolate!
You don't stop laughing because you grow old, you grow old because you stop laughing!
( and Justin, NO comments about how you were still in grade school!!)
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Picture from the cell phone
We went to pick up a baby goat this weekend ( well of course we did, are you even remotely surprised?), and the folks have Great Pyrenese dogs. They look like a pack of clouds running through the yard. Here is Jake with one at his feet and another getting a bit of attention.
See, this is much nicer than my whiney post from yesterday.
And we made arrangements last night to spend the nasty lady's money on a Pygmy doe wiht beautiful colors who is already pregnant. Also the folks with the baby goat are getting some turkeys - and we agreed to take a couple when they come in. What a spring it is going to be!
Monday, January 16, 2006
Dear Little Missy - you are a sour soul.
(needed to rant a sec here and get this off my chest - nothing ticks me off more than to do a good deed and have it rewarded by a bad attitude)
We rescued your goats for you - not for you or your thank you note or your hundred dollars, but because it is the right thing to do. We didn't have to put an ad in the paper, we could have just kept them - and believe me it was pretty tempting because they look just like goats we lost to a vet's mistake and they certainly pulled at our heartstrings.
You asked to come at 1, then called 15 minutes before you were expected to say you would be late. You agreed to come 3:30 so we could do our errand. Then had the audacity to come to my house at 2:45 and walk to the back fence as though you would just get your goats from my yard and leave. Luckily, my daughter asked you to wait until we got home, but you put her in a bad postion.
Your first mistake was passing judgement - what you didn't know is that I am doing the best I can and that the stacks of boxes in my carport are from trying to move during the weekends after working all week. My kitchen wasn't done because I hurt my back on Saturday and I couldn't stand long enough to do the dishes.
Things are not neat and tidy - like I would like them to be because I have made the unfortunate mistake of having my family believe I can do it all - so they see no urgency in trying to help me with the workload. When I am sick or have other things to do, housework just doesn't get done. It sucks, but it is the reality of my otherwise happy life.
I have taken it upon myself to know a lot about goats - that is why I gave you a list of medications and treatments I used so that you would know what was done. Basic nursing skill - tell the next person caring for your patient what you did. You looked down your nose at me when I said I was a nurse too - as though that couldn't be possible. Just because I don't flaunt 12 years of private school and two bachelors degrees by looking down at other people, doesn't mean I am stupid. Of the five of us, who you treated like backwoods idiots, four of us test at genius IQs - how dare you pass judgement because we are socially conscious and choose to live within our means instead of flaunting our wealth like spoiled children. Your bad attitude and bad manners made me want to send you away - and made me wonder what kind of mama you are to those sweet baby goats. Worse yet, you hurt my feelings after we did something nice for you.
I will take your reward money and buy myself a baby goat from a nice man who is polite to us and doesn't give a shit about money or social postition - he just wants them to go to a good home. And you know what, you may get to behave all high and mighty and think you are better than me, but I have a good home and good kids and a good husband and a life that makes me happy. I hope I never run across your soured soul again.
We rescued your goats for you - not for you or your thank you note or your hundred dollars, but because it is the right thing to do. We didn't have to put an ad in the paper, we could have just kept them - and believe me it was pretty tempting because they look just like goats we lost to a vet's mistake and they certainly pulled at our heartstrings.
You asked to come at 1, then called 15 minutes before you were expected to say you would be late. You agreed to come 3:30 so we could do our errand. Then had the audacity to come to my house at 2:45 and walk to the back fence as though you would just get your goats from my yard and leave. Luckily, my daughter asked you to wait until we got home, but you put her in a bad postion.
Your first mistake was passing judgement - what you didn't know is that I am doing the best I can and that the stacks of boxes in my carport are from trying to move during the weekends after working all week. My kitchen wasn't done because I hurt my back on Saturday and I couldn't stand long enough to do the dishes.
Things are not neat and tidy - like I would like them to be because I have made the unfortunate mistake of having my family believe I can do it all - so they see no urgency in trying to help me with the workload. When I am sick or have other things to do, housework just doesn't get done. It sucks, but it is the reality of my otherwise happy life.
I have taken it upon myself to know a lot about goats - that is why I gave you a list of medications and treatments I used so that you would know what was done. Basic nursing skill - tell the next person caring for your patient what you did. You looked down your nose at me when I said I was a nurse too - as though that couldn't be possible. Just because I don't flaunt 12 years of private school and two bachelors degrees by looking down at other people, doesn't mean I am stupid. Of the five of us, who you treated like backwoods idiots, four of us test at genius IQs - how dare you pass judgement because we are socially conscious and choose to live within our means instead of flaunting our wealth like spoiled children. Your bad attitude and bad manners made me want to send you away - and made me wonder what kind of mama you are to those sweet baby goats. Worse yet, you hurt my feelings after we did something nice for you.
I will take your reward money and buy myself a baby goat from a nice man who is polite to us and doesn't give a shit about money or social postition - he just wants them to go to a good home. And you know what, you may get to behave all high and mighty and think you are better than me, but I have a good home and good kids and a good husband and a life that makes me happy. I hope I never run across your soured soul again.
Friday, January 13, 2006
When you are married to a Lovecraft fan...
I watched The Call of Cthulu last night - a modern film done in silent film format. Unbelievably, I enjoyed it. I had to concentrate so hard on the picture, that I had time to let the awfully long day slip away. It felt like a lot of the backstory was missing - but piqued my interest enough that I might be tempted to read the original story by H.P. Lovecraft.
Not sure who this is? http://callofcthulhu.blogspot.com/ This guy has a whole blog about it.
Not sure who this is? http://callofcthulhu.blogspot.com/ This guy has a whole blog about it.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
To those whom much has been given
It was thirty years ago, nearly to the day. My Grandpa Wolf passed away at the end of December and I remember that my mom had driven up to Logansport to help write thank you notes. That first weekend in January, my dad was flying back with some friends from the Carolinas, and would stop to pick up another friend on the way. He had flown his own plane since we lived in Bismark - which by the way has more folks with a pilot's license than the average city.
It was snowy, and I was home alone with my brother. The King and I was on TV, the older version with Yule Brennar and I was trying to watch it. Rosie and her husband were flying back with my dad, and their daughter called me. The first time she called, I remember thinking it wasn't unusual for them to be a bit behind schedule, especially because of the slushy snow coming down.
Then she called a second time, sounding more frantic about the lateness of the hour. I kept trying to focus on the movie, but there was a nagging sense that something was wrong.
The sleet was thick as the plane tried to approach Metropolitan airport in Indy. They were having trouble seeing, and trouble transmitting to the air tower. The wings were icing over. When they had called for weather conditions, there had been no mention of icing, or they would have diverted elsewhere. Now they opened the side windows, reaching his hand around to the windshield, my dad scraped the ice away trying to get visual confirmation to match his gauges. They made the first attempt at a landing, couldn't safely get to the runway. So pulling up, they made another pass. A wide circle around the airport, and during the descent, they hit wires, sending them bouncing back up in the air. The plane had a mind of it's own now, and came back down hard, skidding through the snow through a bay window and into the living room of unsuspecting folks who were watching the football game on the other side of the wall.
When my mom came home, I remember talking to her about what time dad was supposed to be home. She called Rosie's daughter and they talked briefly about times and places. We knew that they had left the Carolinas, and that they were headed home. Mom called the airport.
Dad had blood running down his face from a gash in his scalp. He tried to move Rosie's husband from the front seat, only to find that he was already dead. Then went to the task of getting people out of the back seat. Ken and Rosie were hurt - Ken was having trouble feeling his legs. Dad and the people from the house got them out of the plane and laid them safely down to await the ambulance.
I don't know that I ever remember dressing so quickly - or getting into the car so quickly. There had been a crash and we knew that one person was dead, but not who. Mom was a true loner at that moment, and said, she didn't want to scare us, that we should pray for the best, but that usually it was the pilot who died in airplane crashes because of the steering wheel. The snow was deep and we drove quickly over to St. Vincent Hospital on the north side of town - which even now is about a 30 minute ride.
When we walked in, it was pandemonium. They were not sure who was dead, and then we passed my dad on a gurney. His face looked like someone had left chocolate cake all over it - and he was saying something about his left leg. I'll never forget how white and straight his teeth looked when he saw us and smiled. Later we would learn that he shattered the ankle of his left leg and that he had ruptured his aorta - normally something that is lethal, but the adrenaline and cold weather had saved him.
We found Rosie, who had fractures in her spine, broken arm and a broken leg as well as Ken who had a fractured spine. ( I may have gotten these details a bit skewed, as it was 30 years ago and I was 9). I remember that Ken was told he would never walk - but a year later he was the proud father of a baby boy and he walked into the delivery room with only a cane.
The next months are a whilrwind in my memory, sneaking us into the ICU, lying about my age so I could see my dad. The surgeries where they rebroke and reset his leg, and then in March, when I made my Confirmation, he was home, with a hospital bed in the living room. Dad was thin then, and pale, but he is a fighter. Always has been.
I looked at those pictures last night - remembering the lessons learned by observation. How you can love someone and have to care for their every need, how you can be strong even when you are in pain.
Today, my dad restarts chemo - to battle this opponent who has come for a rematch. The Lord tells us that to those whom much has been given, much will be expected. We have been given thirty years worth of second chances and memories and laughter. People just don't live through plane crashes like that, and as a family, we all know that. I think we are expected to be thankful, be happy and be at peace with however this next round of chemo turns out, and rather than being angry that we may not get more time, focus on how wonderful it is that we got and extra thirty years so far.
It was snowy, and I was home alone with my brother. The King and I was on TV, the older version with Yule Brennar and I was trying to watch it. Rosie and her husband were flying back with my dad, and their daughter called me. The first time she called, I remember thinking it wasn't unusual for them to be a bit behind schedule, especially because of the slushy snow coming down.
Then she called a second time, sounding more frantic about the lateness of the hour. I kept trying to focus on the movie, but there was a nagging sense that something was wrong.
The sleet was thick as the plane tried to approach Metropolitan airport in Indy. They were having trouble seeing, and trouble transmitting to the air tower. The wings were icing over. When they had called for weather conditions, there had been no mention of icing, or they would have diverted elsewhere. Now they opened the side windows, reaching his hand around to the windshield, my dad scraped the ice away trying to get visual confirmation to match his gauges. They made the first attempt at a landing, couldn't safely get to the runway. So pulling up, they made another pass. A wide circle around the airport, and during the descent, they hit wires, sending them bouncing back up in the air. The plane had a mind of it's own now, and came back down hard, skidding through the snow through a bay window and into the living room of unsuspecting folks who were watching the football game on the other side of the wall.
When my mom came home, I remember talking to her about what time dad was supposed to be home. She called Rosie's daughter and they talked briefly about times and places. We knew that they had left the Carolinas, and that they were headed home. Mom called the airport.
Dad had blood running down his face from a gash in his scalp. He tried to move Rosie's husband from the front seat, only to find that he was already dead. Then went to the task of getting people out of the back seat. Ken and Rosie were hurt - Ken was having trouble feeling his legs. Dad and the people from the house got them out of the plane and laid them safely down to await the ambulance.
I don't know that I ever remember dressing so quickly - or getting into the car so quickly. There had been a crash and we knew that one person was dead, but not who. Mom was a true loner at that moment, and said, she didn't want to scare us, that we should pray for the best, but that usually it was the pilot who died in airplane crashes because of the steering wheel. The snow was deep and we drove quickly over to St. Vincent Hospital on the north side of town - which even now is about a 30 minute ride.
When we walked in, it was pandemonium. They were not sure who was dead, and then we passed my dad on a gurney. His face looked like someone had left chocolate cake all over it - and he was saying something about his left leg. I'll never forget how white and straight his teeth looked when he saw us and smiled. Later we would learn that he shattered the ankle of his left leg and that he had ruptured his aorta - normally something that is lethal, but the adrenaline and cold weather had saved him.
We found Rosie, who had fractures in her spine, broken arm and a broken leg as well as Ken who had a fractured spine. ( I may have gotten these details a bit skewed, as it was 30 years ago and I was 9). I remember that Ken was told he would never walk - but a year later he was the proud father of a baby boy and he walked into the delivery room with only a cane.
The next months are a whilrwind in my memory, sneaking us into the ICU, lying about my age so I could see my dad. The surgeries where they rebroke and reset his leg, and then in March, when I made my Confirmation, he was home, with a hospital bed in the living room. Dad was thin then, and pale, but he is a fighter. Always has been.
I looked at those pictures last night - remembering the lessons learned by observation. How you can love someone and have to care for their every need, how you can be strong even when you are in pain.
Today, my dad restarts chemo - to battle this opponent who has come for a rematch. The Lord tells us that to those whom much has been given, much will be expected. We have been given thirty years worth of second chances and memories and laughter. People just don't live through plane crashes like that, and as a family, we all know that. I think we are expected to be thankful, be happy and be at peace with however this next round of chemo turns out, and rather than being angry that we may not get more time, focus on how wonderful it is that we got and extra thirty years so far.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Things that make you say HMMMM
We watched a film last night - not my usual fare, but it was a medical mystery - and I got taken in . The film was about a doctor, who discovers a plot in hospital to obtain healthy subjects among street-people. The people are then kidnapped and used as test subjects in ground breaking research to regenerate nerves. This kind of research is very real, but still in infancy because it starts as animal testing long before it moves to human trials. And human trials are likely to be far off because of the potential for death and paralysis in such a study.
As I watched the film, more and more people who were involved in the plot had relatives who were in wheelchairs and paralyzed - each scene was more touching than the one before, and secular humanism was rampant - there are no absolute right and wrong things - what is right is what works for me. But that is another post.
Medicine is as much art as science, we use our guts and our hearts if we are at all good at our medical practice. Sometimes it is hard to see through the chance to save someone to the person or animals used in the research to give us the understanding. The Nazi research on hypothermia, which has helped change the way we treat patients - but has some serious ethical issues, comes to mind.
While the scenario is tragic, it begs the question of letting people die in vain, and in this film, that question was answered well, when the research was turned over to someone who would behave ethically and try to make it work. It was the right thing, trying to help people who are hurting, done the wrong way, by taking people by force to have surgical procedures done without their consent. But one character made a point that is sticking with me today. What if you knew that by possibly killing one person, you could cure cancer and save thousands of lives? How far would you go to help someone you love?
As I watched the film, more and more people who were involved in the plot had relatives who were in wheelchairs and paralyzed - each scene was more touching than the one before, and secular humanism was rampant - there are no absolute right and wrong things - what is right is what works for me. But that is another post.
Medicine is as much art as science, we use our guts and our hearts if we are at all good at our medical practice. Sometimes it is hard to see through the chance to save someone to the person or animals used in the research to give us the understanding. The Nazi research on hypothermia, which has helped change the way we treat patients - but has some serious ethical issues, comes to mind.
While the scenario is tragic, it begs the question of letting people die in vain, and in this film, that question was answered well, when the research was turned over to someone who would behave ethically and try to make it work. It was the right thing, trying to help people who are hurting, done the wrong way, by taking people by force to have surgical procedures done without their consent. But one character made a point that is sticking with me today. What if you knew that by possibly killing one person, you could cure cancer and save thousands of lives? How far would you go to help someone you love?
Friday, January 06, 2006
just dial 911
The hospital I work at is over capacity - seems everyone and their mother contracted pneumonia or bronchitis or some other ugly bug and we are starting to divert patients to another hospital. The push is really on to get people nearly healthy and out the door - so nurses are running like crazy trying to get ten things done at once.
In the midst of this, I had two cool patients today:
The first is a lady with cancer in her abdomen - she has been fighting it for a long time, and after two months in the hospital, she gets to go home today. When I said it was a pleasure to meet her, I meant it. She was pretty fantastic with her bright pink Aeropostle beanie covering her wisps of hair.
Then my other lady, who was on the intercom when I walked in, talking to the ward secretary ordering fried fish, potatoes and some snuff.
In the midst of this, I had two cool patients today:
The first is a lady with cancer in her abdomen - she has been fighting it for a long time, and after two months in the hospital, she gets to go home today. When I said it was a pleasure to meet her, I meant it. She was pretty fantastic with her bright pink Aeropostle beanie covering her wisps of hair.
Then my other lady, who was on the intercom when I walked in, talking to the ward secretary ordering fried fish, potatoes and some snuff.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Stupid non- luer lock syringes...grumble grumble
Three of our goats have been fighting pneumonia - seems as a breed they do well with cold - but this weird weather - 60 then 25 then dry then raining for days - just has their bodies in a tizzy. So about two weeks ago we did 5 days of antibiotic shots - which didn't kill whatever was making them sick. So we got new antibiotics - they are thick as molasses and the needle is the size of MONTANA. So I give the first round of shots with little drama three days ago. The goats are looking markedly better, so we decided to do round two. Last night, however - the slippery thick molasses antibiotics won - in both big goats I started giving the shot and the stupid syringe slid right off - spraying about 2cc of antibiotic goo into my nose and eyes. Wow, that was nice. Have you ever started to take an antibiotic and got it stuck in your mouth just a second too long - where you get a chance to taste it? Not a good taste. I read the package insert from the antibiotics to see what to do - no instructions - and best yet - there is a big warning about how this medication can cause tissue necrosis at the injection site. Great.
Today - everything smells and tastes funny - and my eyes feel like sandpaper - even though I did come inside and wash off right away.
Why in the world would the vet send us with syringes that do not have a luer lock( pictured below for your viewing pleasure) - like a screw cap for the needle - so that the freaking needle wouldn't come off in MIDSHOT!!! Okay - sorry for the rant, but the taste of antibiotics in my throat is making me a wee bit cranky.
I'm off to find some syringes - because I have to redo those two goat shots tonight. Farming is fun farming is fun - just keep chanting the mantra.
Today - everything smells and tastes funny - and my eyes feel like sandpaper - even though I did come inside and wash off right away.
Why in the world would the vet send us with syringes that do not have a luer lock( pictured below for your viewing pleasure) - like a screw cap for the needle - so that the freaking needle wouldn't come off in MIDSHOT!!! Okay - sorry for the rant, but the taste of antibiotics in my throat is making me a wee bit cranky.
I'm off to find some syringes - because I have to redo those two goat shots tonight. Farming is fun farming is fun - just keep chanting the mantra.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Glad to be at work so I can rest
This past week has just been a flurry of activity.
We left at 4am Christmas morning to go see my folks for Christmas. Just north of Edinburgh, we hit snow - not a lot, but just enough that the fat wet flakes were hitting our windshield. It felt just like Christmas.
Our first destination was my Uncle Paul's house, where my aunt had prepared dinner and was gracious enough to feed all of us even though we only gave her a couple day's notice. My cousin, Pat, was there with his new fiance. Proving my point agian that you just never know. Pat is a rocket scientist - seriously, for Dish Network, I think. Anyway, he'll be forty this year and just found the love of his life. You just never know.
My folks met us at Uncle Pauls house, with my Uncle Jim in tow. Oh the joy of a large family. It was SO MUCH FUN to get to see everyone and hear all the noise and laughter. What a blast.
We had agreed to pick up Jake from his dad on the other side of town. Unfortunatly, whether on purpose ( which I think was probably the case) or accidentally, his dad left us waiting in a hotel parking lot, in the snow, after dark Christmas day for about an hour and a half. It astounds me that a year and a half after our move, his wife is still hateful to me - and they are still mad. It probably shouldn't bother me, but the ongoing ill will is just not good.
My folks were doing as well as can be expected, both are tired and all the trips to the doctor are trying on the patience.
When we got home, we started the big project - getting Justin's house ready to sell. We spent Thursday, Friday and Saturday painting, taping, replacing light fixtures and ceiling fans to get the house ready - and it looks much better.
Unfortunately, New Years Eve and New Year's day were spend battling some kind of stomach bug that the boys had days before - it wasn't pretty and there sure wasn't any champagne toast.
Monday I tried to catch up on eight days of housecleaning - it wasn't pretty - and there is still Chrismas Eve wrapping paper in the basement. We took a diversion at 3 to watch King Kong - it was fantastic. The ending is SO MUCH BETTER than the original version, and the CGI was amazing. It was a moving and touching story with a lot of character development that was missed in previous versions. Thoroughly enjoyed it - despite some gory scary bugs.
So today my vacation is over - and my stomach is better - so tonight we will feast on traditional New Year's Corned beef and cabbage and maybe have our champagne toast.
May you have a blessed and happy 2006
We left at 4am Christmas morning to go see my folks for Christmas. Just north of Edinburgh, we hit snow - not a lot, but just enough that the fat wet flakes were hitting our windshield. It felt just like Christmas.
Our first destination was my Uncle Paul's house, where my aunt had prepared dinner and was gracious enough to feed all of us even though we only gave her a couple day's notice. My cousin, Pat, was there with his new fiance. Proving my point agian that you just never know. Pat is a rocket scientist - seriously, for Dish Network, I think. Anyway, he'll be forty this year and just found the love of his life. You just never know.
My folks met us at Uncle Pauls house, with my Uncle Jim in tow. Oh the joy of a large family. It was SO MUCH FUN to get to see everyone and hear all the noise and laughter. What a blast.
We had agreed to pick up Jake from his dad on the other side of town. Unfortunatly, whether on purpose ( which I think was probably the case) or accidentally, his dad left us waiting in a hotel parking lot, in the snow, after dark Christmas day for about an hour and a half. It astounds me that a year and a half after our move, his wife is still hateful to me - and they are still mad. It probably shouldn't bother me, but the ongoing ill will is just not good.
My folks were doing as well as can be expected, both are tired and all the trips to the doctor are trying on the patience.
When we got home, we started the big project - getting Justin's house ready to sell. We spent Thursday, Friday and Saturday painting, taping, replacing light fixtures and ceiling fans to get the house ready - and it looks much better.
Unfortunately, New Years Eve and New Year's day were spend battling some kind of stomach bug that the boys had days before - it wasn't pretty and there sure wasn't any champagne toast.
Monday I tried to catch up on eight days of housecleaning - it wasn't pretty - and there is still Chrismas Eve wrapping paper in the basement. We took a diversion at 3 to watch King Kong - it was fantastic. The ending is SO MUCH BETTER than the original version, and the CGI was amazing. It was a moving and touching story with a lot of character development that was missed in previous versions. Thoroughly enjoyed it - despite some gory scary bugs.
So today my vacation is over - and my stomach is better - so tonight we will feast on traditional New Year's Corned beef and cabbage and maybe have our champagne toast.
May you have a blessed and happy 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)