Stone Soup

dedicated to Nick and Diana

2012-02-12T18:12:00.000-08:00

There is a young couple I know and attend church with who are planning to leave town and what I assume is a fairly good employment situation to take themselves and three kids and go to live on a Mercy Ship. I am awed. I am overwhelmed. I am so excited for them.

I am horribly, terribly, unbearably envious of their daring and devotion. I am delighted to think of what an amazing opportunity they are jumping into, heading out to be the 'hands and feet', and especially to model servanthood for their family. What an amazing situation to take kids into: living on a ship full of people dedicated to serving the under-served, those in the most desperate need of medical care who have no financial resources and cannot do anything to help themselves. Taking your family to the far side of the planet, but in a situation where all your basic needs are provided, which allows you to focus on the people you will meet. To go into the 'uttermost parts of the world' and provide modern medical care to people that will forever change their lives - just the medical care alone will have a permanent, dramatic effect. Each individual the Mercy Ship provides care for will be changed: possibly giving individuals an opportunity get education they desperately want, jobs they need to provide for families, acceptance in a society that had previously shunned them, a chance to have a family, re-build relationships, establish themselves in their communities.

But also using the opportunity to minister to their hearts and fill them with Living Water. It is going to be such a fantastic time for the entire family. It makes me so envious. And thinking of how I wish something like this had happened in my life when I had kids young enough to be easily portable, and I was daring enough leap into such an amazing opportunity to give my family such a life-changing experience. Wow. Oh, wow....

it was a mess of my own making...

2012-02-10T17:43:00.000-08:00

After I got down to the south side of town this morning, I discovered the job I had driven nearly thirty minutes to get to did not exist. I called the computer and found that I had accidently agreed to a position that needed to be filled next Tuesday, and showed my foolish self up for today. They asked me if I would take a fourth grade class, and I said yes (but the expression on my face quite obviously said "No").

So they wondered if I might take a second grade position - and I kinda, sorta, half-heartedly agreed. The male sub. who had been sent to the second grade was re-routed to the fourth grade (which was, in my opinion, a Great Idea - he was quite large and readily intimidating for little people of any age - would be much more effectively used to mange a room full of ten year olds), and I was placed, completely un-prepared, in a room with two dozen 7 and 8 year olds who tried their best to give me a head-ache.

It could have been worse. Somehow, I know it could have. But I survived. Even though at one point I sent a student to the office with a note that said he needs to have his attitude adjusted. When he came back, I asked who he saw and what happened. He reported that the principal told him he better not see him back there for the rest of the day. I think it helped that we all went out on the playground and wandered around in the fresh air and vitamin D for half an hour after lunch, when the teacher had only allotted us ten minutes of outdoor time.

I am sure it could have been worse: I could have been in a class full eleven year olds with hormones and attitudes.And the lesson I learned is to check much more carefully before I hit the 'yes' button that commits to a job - to be sure it is not getting me into another mess of my own making.

another sub. teaching job: I definitely got educated...

2012-02-08T05:15:00.000-08:00

When I went into the pre-K classroom for the substitute teaching job I had the first of the week - I was a little fearful of what 'can of worms' I had opened up... I need to explain what it's like to find a job - so you will see how stressful just making the commitment to getting up and going can be: You can either accept a job when the computer starts making calls at 6 a/m, and again at 6p/m, or you can look on the Subfinder website with the school district to see what is out there.

I call it 'fishing' or 'trolling' and think that the people who manage the program call it 'job shopping' - whatever. It is obvious that people who are looking for work are a discriminating lot: due to the fact that the majority of jobs I take are for positions as a para-professional/aide. The para. jobs are required by the state, likely funded through the lottery money that pays for the pre-K. classes. I assume the financial support includes teachers' salaries, materials in the classrooms, and probably 'rent' for the class rooms that is paid to the school district.

As I understand it: for every ten children in a pre-K/lottery funded class, they are required by law to have one adult in the room: so if there are eleven little people, there must be two adults. And if perchance the class had 21 (not a manageable situation with four-year olds!) there would have to be three adults to meet the guidelines established by the state Dept. of Ed. that wrote the rules for the program. So - most of the work I end up with is replacing missing para-pros - probably due to the fact that sub. pay for a para is about 2/3 of what a certified teacher is paid. I don't mind doing the work of either - but of course would rather be paid $100 for a thankless job than $65 for an equally thankless day of general chaos...

My choice is to go into a classroom where there are normally two adults: just to have someone in there who knows the names, knows the routine/schedule, can identify at the ones who are in need of correcting and nip the behavior in the bud immediately. So that pretty much limits my sub. work to pre-K, K, and First grade. I know the school district is stretched thin financially, and will likely try to eliminate even more para-pro. positions to lower expenses, as the aides are already now covering more than one first grade class in the course of a day - floating from room to room, greatly affecting effectiveness of teachers who depend on them for support in classroom activities and implementing lessons.

So here, finally, is my story about last Monday. I was looking for a job Sunday night. And found one on the website that was for a pre-K teacher. When you click on a specific job, you only have sixty seconds to accept or decline. But it indicated that there were 'special instructions', that you had to access by phone: so here I am on the computer, trying to find out what I need to know on the phone, while the 'meter is running' on the one minute timer...The recorded info. from the teacher said that it was an 'inclusive' class - which sounded pretty ominous, but I decided to take a chance, and accepted the job.

I got to the school and found two para-pros,or maybe three, I never did fully figure out what was going on.
The kids watched some cartoons on the white-board, which was only semi-operable. And did a Valentine coloring sheet, and colored in a construction paper heart shape. And went to the gym to burn off some energy. And went out on the playground for about fifteen minutes before it began to drizzle and we had to come in. And listened to a couple of books being read, and the telling of the Three Bears story - which really caught their attention, better than picture books.

But as far as learning anything: I think I was the only one who did that. Discovering that 'inclusive' means there are children in there with behavior problems, learning problems, birth related problems. Likely a more p.c term for what used to be called 'mainstreaming'. (This explains why there were three other adults in the classroom, along with me. I guess it also explains why when other teachers were MIA that day, and they could not find subs., the principal took on a class himself instead of pulling me out to go into another room that needed a teacher or pulling out one of the aides who was there to help mange the children with 'issues' to cover another classroom.) The thing is when there are half a dozen kids out of twenty who are in constant need of management/correction - it's hard to capture and retain the attention of the ones who are capable of learning and truly want to be there.

I don't think keeping children with learning disorders isolated is the solution - but am also convinced that putting them in with others who are capable and can soak up information/knowledge like sponges is a huge dis-service. To the parents as well as students who need those basic skills to build upon for the next grade/step. The ones who are co-operative, absorbed with the world around them, ready for learning, are being truly limited by the fact that so much of classroom time and the teacher's attention must be constantly on the ones who are impulsive, out of control, unmanageable, and unwilling (or incapable of) maintaining focus on the instructional materials.

I don't have any suggestions, but it was dis-heartening to think that those mothers sent those little people to learn, and I don't think it occurred.

moving ahead with my plan...

2012-02-04T17:34:00.000-08:00

After I got over being so distressed about finding myself secretly dropped from the donor list of eligible blood marrow transplantees, I decided to pursue donating a kidney. What???? Why? Are you Crazie? Well, yes, probably. But that's nothing new to anyone who knows me fairly well.

I have been patiently waiting for many years to get the call that they had found a use for my marrow, even though I understand the harvesting part is excruciating, and I am a class A wimp. But when I discovered late last year that I am past the age of being considered for transplanting my marrow into someone who could use it - it made me sad. I've been enjoying it all this time, and it still seems to be perfectly good to me. Maybe not the freshest ever after all this time - but remember: I am the one who can eat things out of the 'fridge that would make anyone else here deathly ill, without any apparent ill effects to my digestive tract. So I assumed I was taking good care of my marrow too.

I read an article several weeks back about a combination of people who had donated or received kidneys in a kind of round-robin situation, and thought: well, maybe.... so I checked to see where the nearest hospital that does transplants is: Emory in Atlanta. I made the call a couple of weeks ago, and talked to someone who set me up with a telephone appointment. Which we did last week while I was in Valdosta. And I got a stack of paperwork the first of this week, which I mostly completed today. And will finish up to get in the mail and send back to the transplant program on Monday.

It is understandably complicated. You'd want to be sure you were going to have success if you went to all the trouble to have someone else's body part inserted into your personal space. If the paperwork appears satisfactory, I would have to go at some point to spend a couple of days having a lot of outpatient testing done to be sure everything is in good working order. And then they would have to find the recipient.

When I was doing the phone interview last week, the nurse asked who that person was, and I said I did not know. She said: 'Oh, you are an altruistic donor?' I said 'No, not really...I don't think so - I just have something someone needs and don't mind sharing'. In the same way I donate a pint of blood four or five times a year (even though I know this is much more involved and risky). It's just something I have - spare parts, and I know it can make a big difference in someone's life.

So... we will see how things go. She told me they take the 'spare' out laproscopically, and only make about a three inch incision - which shortens recovery time considerably. But I am pretty sure the person who gets the upgrade has a much larger hole with all it would take to get the plumbing reattached.

on the road (a whole lot) again...

2012-02-03T17:12:00.000-08:00

Having just gotten back from a round trip this afternoon to Americus, 75 miles each way, I am ready to confess: Tired :-( Obviously a result of all the flapping and dancing around that accompanies burning one's candle at both ends while trying to find a place in the middle to hang on, as one gets covered with hot dripping candle wax.

I was in Decatur for the day two weeks ago tomorrow, (driving up and back that same Saturday) celebrating with the self-promoting Birthday gal. And went back this week, to-ing and fro-ing (at least that one was an overnight trip) when I went to visit my pen-pal in South Carolina. In between all that, I spent a day and a half in south GA providing transportation and assistance to my auntie in Valdosta when she had scheduled cataract surgery.

I had not factored Valdosta in my travel plans or probably would not have chosen last weekend to go to Chattanooga to visit. But I did go and go and go.And hope I won't be going any place that involves buying another tank of gas (especially now that it is $3.49 here. - though I found some in TN last weekend for $3.18, and some in Americus for $3.40 today.)

I expect to be working my part-time, off-and-on, minimal/marginal employment Publix gig for several days before Feb. 14, and if my calendar is not swamped with volunteer 'opportunities' next week, will try to get in a couple of days of sub. teaching. The only thing that keeps me going back to sub. work is when I remind myself that it is only for 6 1/2 hours - and I think I can tolerate most anything that long...plus the fact that I don't depend on it!

diversity of an unexpected sort....

2012-02-03T04:19:00.000-08:00

A couple of substitute teaching jobs the first of the week have been on my mind since I survived two days in the public school classrooms. Pondering the differences in management styles has created some interesting unanswerable questions...Observing how individuals choose to apply and enforce discipline has been educational and thougth-provoking. Knowing that being a teacher is one of the most thankless jobs ever - and getting more-so on a daily basis, I'm certainly not the person who has Any of the answers to how one might go about instilling discipline when there is often none in other areas of a five year olds' life.

Both classes were students who were first grade level - and there is often a huge variance in the abilities, skills and overall maturity level of little people that age. Just spending one day with them, and taking the time to listen to them read a couple of sentences, either doing it smoothly, or stumbling over 'sight words' that they should easily recognize makes it plain that some have a home life that involves books. That they receive time from their 'elders', with individual attention devoted to the written word, and people in their lives who know what they will need to be on track for success as they advance through the system.

I spent several hours in one class with a little boy who lead me to believe he was disrespectful, defiant and had an all 'round bad attitude. But when he was reading to me, one-on-one, I was astounded at his ability to whiz right through those little 8 page books. He is far more capable, advanced than what the teacher was having him do. I know there is value in repetition- but his was 'way ahead of her in that 'game', ready for second grade (or higher) challenges with his reading material.

The class I was with on Monday was general all-around chaos. A group of twenty kids who apparently had little to no 'impulse control', continually chatting and highly distractable. Really unable to stay on task and finish work due to being so 'sociable' - which in itself, is not a bad thing. But when being so willing to converse causes one to never finish an assignment, it is definitely not a good thing. They were just like a group of magpies - in constant conversation.

It's so difficult for a substitute, not knowing names, unable to identify students by name, and correct behavior on an individual basis to Nip It In The Bud, it was a very frustrating day. I had several people who came in the room during the course of the day: a rotating para-pro, a couple of high school students, who could 'pin' names on them, who were helpful. Sonetimes it is just a matter of calling out a name, catching their attention and giving that particular wanderer the 'stink-eye' to get him/her back on the right path

I believe a lot of management/control is just being able to call someones' name to get their attention: name-to-kid. The teacher did try to help with that, leaving construction paper 'tents' (paper folded in half the long way) for them to write their names on that should have been helpful - but ultimately that idea only served as a great distraction as they kept playing with, decorating, moving them all day. So though I could identify the most likely suspects/culprits by the end of the day, I could not actually attach names to them.

On the second day, I was the Para-pro, and moving through the day in two different, adjacent classrooms (in addition to lunch room duty for a head-ache inducing hour). Those teachers, maybe the whole school, with a different 'tenor', discipline theory established by the administration, were Very Firm. Both I spent time with were quite strict in the way they managed classrooms, expected standards of behavior to be maintained. Really enforcers of propriarty/minimum standards. I was at times a little taken aback at the way they talked to the kids, but believe if you establish high standards from the get-go, and show you are willing to enforce your expectations, they are much more likely to be met.

So I guess with all they are expected to accomplish in the course of the day, week, school year, the kids come closer to meeting the goals someone in the remote state Dept. of Ed. sets for five and six year olds is mostly met.

It's been very educational - for me. And I'm not the one who needed to know. It reminds me of a conversation I had recently with someone who was trying to correct behavior of a seven year old: I commented at how impressed I was with the adults' willingness to be the 'enforcer', stay with the child until the task was completed. That time devoted to the follow through seems to be equally as important as the initial instruction: if you don't stick around to see that it is thoroughly completed, not willing to devote yourself to knowing it was really done - it likely won't be finished, and you will find yourself saying 'arggghhh' when you are the one picking up the remnants of fun from hours ago. Remnants that are no longer fun, but an annoying nusiance since the person who created the amusement was not made to take responsibility for the activity. Not fully aware - as few if any, little people are: actions have consequences.

Which is basically what I see at the issue here: kids with no impulse control, not being taught that there will always be consequences to what they do (or don't) get accomplished. Which causes them to engage in so much impulsive behavior. (This includes kids of all ages who do not think through the responsibility that goes along with pet ownership..because if they did - there would be fewer household animals in need of on-going, never ending maintenance.)

But now that I have seen it - I understand every time I go into a classroom how under-valued our teachers are. And how thankful I am that I am not 22 and out there as a freshly minted education major, expectantly thinking to be an agent of change...

philosophy 101: part one

2012-01-22T17:23:00.000-08:00

I have this theory that if every one in world was to be trained by their mama from the time they first discovered they could take their own clothes off - to not leave them on the floor - basically to clean up after their own self - that we would not have the problems here on the planet we seem to be facing.

I tell young mothers, when I know them well enough, to be able to offer a piece of unsolicited advice what a valuable trait it would be to have young people of both genders be willing to clean up after themselves. From the time they can sit upright in a bath tub - they are definitely old enough to pick up there tiny little articles of clothing and put them in a laundry basket. No reason they cannot match their wee little clean socks together when they come out of the dryer too! But just to train them up to know that they are responsible for keeping their clothes up off the floor - that mama won't spend the rest of her life picking up after them, putting the dirty dishes in the washer, reminding them to get their chores/homework done - practice for the Real World of independent living. And guys are as capable as girls by the time they are in six in telling red from white, and dark from light to help sort the laundry.

If people climbing Mt. Everest 'just because it is there' were to have to figure out how to get all their trash back down the mountain before they ever took the first step (including personal waste products) as well as all those cylinders of oxygen they use to make that crazy climb - they would be much less likely to leave their trash in their wake.

If people who can afford to drink the beer, go through the drive-in fast-food window would just keep their trash in the car until they get home, instead of being so thoughtless, I would not be out there in my front yard picking up the wrappers and empties that get dumped on the right of way. And blown into my yard. I am pretty faithful about recycling my own trash, but have no desire to be the one to be picking up after strangers, to put their empty soda/beer cans and bottles out for the city to pick up. If you have the resources to make the purchase, have to courtesy to take your trash with you. Your mama don' t work here.

I see indifferent uncaring kids in school lunch rooms all the time, dropping trash, food, milk cartons on floor and adults whose specific job it is to pick up, wipe down,sweep after they finish their lunches. I am all for having them all take a turn as the cleaners. It might make them so aggravated to have to clean up after other sloppy people, they would realize they need to be self-policing. All those kids are learning is that it is ok to live like pigs. I am almost certain that they are not allowed to drop food on the floor at home, leave eating utensils on the table every day and spill cartons of milk with no consequences. There is absolutely no need whatsoever for us to be paying adults in janitorial positions to clean up after other people's kids in the public schools.

You gotta instill the self-discipline, just like they are not born knowing manners and how to say 'please' and 'thank you'. You gotta be present, willing to be the enforcer, willing to invest the time in following up, being consistent with seeing they do the job the right way, until they do it without the reminder. You gotta be willing to be the nagging mother/adult who is the person who makes them come back and re-do when they roll their eyes, try to take the short-cut, half-way effective, until they realize there are no shortcuts, and You will be calling them back to do it over... like we all learned: When we rolled our own eyes, and heard a thousand times: "if you are going to do it, you might as well go ahead and do it right the first time".

thinking of donating...

2012-01-20T09:25:00.000-08:00

I just started the process to get on the list as a donor for kidney transplants. After discovering, late last year, I'd 'aged out' of the potential donors for blood marrow, I was sorta sad. Then read an article in the Sunday newspaper, Parade magazine section about a disconnected yet remarkable group of people who were kidney donors and thought: Hey! I can do that. The article described a series of fortunate circumstances by about a dozen different people who needed or had kidneys they were willing to part with. It was almost like a 'round robin' thing where "I know of a need" and "I've got a spare" and a matter of people getting matched up by the national transplant program as a result of knowing some one who had that desperate need, or a desire to give, but not knowing the person whose life would be changed by such an act of unforseen kindness and unexpected generosity.

So when I accidently found myself no longer a candidate for marrow donation, as a result of going with someone else who wanted to sign up to give at a local donor drive - it was sad, but I've been around long enough to know that we all have to live within certain parameters. So though I pursued a possible exception to the 'rule', I also decided to check into kidney donations. The article in the paper indicated the first step would be to get in touch with the nearest site that would be part of the national network for transplanting organs. I discovered that to be Emory Hospital in Atlanta.

I just talked to someone at Emory Healthcare, which is the closest medical facility participating in organ transfer program. Had my initial interview, and will talk to the staff at length next week. In the same sense, though, of course much more invasive involved and intense, that I have made donations of pints to the ARC over many years (currently at just over 110), I thought: I have more than I need, and there is someone out there that this will really make a difference for... so why not? I believe that I have a number of body parts that are in relative good health, and sad to think that the marrow collectors think mine is too old to have any value. Not too much wanting to consider donating the unit as a whole to the Body Farm (to be left out in the weather to decompose at a natural rate) , but hope that there will be something of value in a physical sense to leave to someone who might benefit from what I have used, and thoroughly enjoyed -but not used up- for many years.

life with a worry wart...

2012-01-20T03:18:00.000-08:00

Unbeknownst to me, I married a Worry Wart. I have recently concluded it is a genetic trait, and expectantly making an effort to be at peace with the situation. Partly because I have long known you can't change other people, and also due to the fact that it's too late to start over. Not that I have even the least bit of interest in starting over at this date/age/stage: I have been saying for many years that I believe I have filled my quota in the spousal department.

For the longest time I thought he was truly interested in where I was going, what I was doing, what my plans were for a particular period of time. (Or worse: trying to mind my business!?) But now I think he just mostly wants to know:
A). when I will be on the road, so he will know how long he has to be concerned about my safety while I am driving.
B). when I will be back to see that he is called to the table at meal time without him having to do anything other than show up.
So IF I agree to call him upon reaching my destination and consistently ring the dinner bell, I think he has finally figured out I can pretty much take care of myself.

He has told me over the years that his mother was historically a worrier. But I never stopped to consider it might be genetic. I guess maybe it could be? He, the retired guy, with almost never a plan for the day, or any events on his calendar (that he keeps on his phone in his pocket - funny that it is now so conveniently available/accessible, without need of desk calendars/daily planners - and he has virtually nothing to notate!) other than 'leventy-dozen doctors' apponitments with a multitude of specialists he sees on a regular basis for various and sundry body parts. I was making a list recently of all the different practices he visits, and lost count (not so difficult for the arithmetically impaired to do) but I actually ran out of fingers as I tried to tick off all the doctors he deals with on a regular/rotating basis. All of whom routinely question him about the care and feeding of the various organs they have expertise with - and likely all get the same answer: 'Oh, I'm fine!".

Which is pretty much what I am planning to give as my answer: 'Oh, he's just fine', having decided this the best response/course of action when people I encounter ask me about 'how's he doin'? I conclude people don't Really Want to Know about all your aliments, aches, pains, aging process - they are mostly just being polite without actually wanting to devote their time to having a conversation, especially about personal health issues within some other persons' person.

But he is a worrier: more so since he has so much time on his hands to devote to such a project that requires no physical effort or power tools. So I am going to make a conscious effort to respond to those requests:
Call me when you get there?
Let me know you are safely at your destination so I can stop fretting?
Check in to let me know you are o.k.?
Be sure you tell me when you arrive?
I might be so unconcerned I will be taking a nap, but do give me a call to notify you are safe?
By remembering to make the call before I even get out of the car... now that I consider that he got that from his mother, and he, bless-his-heart, can't help himself.

winter storms...

2012-01-11T04:47:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning, way too early as usual - one of the major hazards I have discovered to be part of the aging process. I readily admit that thus far: this seems to be my only problem, so it is definitely not a complaint - just a fact of changing body chemistry. I really like the geezer discounts at movies, free drinks at Taco Bell, etc, but I think I would probably, today at least, rather have a really good nights' sleep on a regular basis. If you out there, know any tricks I am not aware of over here, that would safely (preferably without drugs) induce a long restful night, please pass along the information before you get a copyright on the solution?

While I was lying there, pondering the universe as I do in the wee hours, with only my nose sticking out of my warm little nest, I heard something that sounded like a large building imploding. So I stuck an ear out as well, and discovered all the accompanying special effects of a winter storm passing over. Strobe lights flickering off and on, off and on, at an alarming rate, with accompany thunder and pounding rain on the roof. What sounded in the distance like long string of box cars banging together repeatedly coupling and uncoupling in series, over and over, a great rumbling, grumbling, grinding. (I suspect going to the "War Horse" movie and the horrific scenes and sounds of WWI were mixed up in all this somehow, though I was fully awake before the storm started rolling across the panhandle of the county.)

All the signs of a bad winter storm: Which I saw a small snippet about when I was checking mail last night. There was a photo on AOL of a house, that looked fairly modern (meaning not the traditional yurt/igloo/tipi design you see in social studies/history books in elementary school libraries). It was covered in what the little twelve word description reported as about fifteen feet of snow. I am pretty sure it was in the US, probably in the upper mid-west, and I assume a current photo rather than something from a file. I am glad that is not me, living in that house, with the risk of no public services. Reminding me of that 'unexpected' storm back in the fall up on the eastern seaboard where people in the region were without power for days, and schools were closed due to both outages and trees downed prohibiting travel.

But honestly: those people make a choice, deliberate or not, conscious or not, to live where they live. They made a decision to buy a house, or sign a rental agreement, probably due to proximity of employment and/or family members. But still: it was a decision, overt, deliberate, due to failure to weigh it out carefully? And they do not live on the steppes in a yurt, or little stony drab, gray village hanging precariously to the side of the Himilayan Mountain range, isolated and ignorant of world events, both large and small. So they had access to the media, who were stirring up alarm, trying to raise an alert, warning about impending weather.

Those who choose to disregard that information then became: All those people who began demanding utilities and conveniences. Things we'uns in the most permissive, coddled nation in the world have begun to think of as necessities (up to and including potable water when we turn on the tap - or even flush: can you imagine what someone in third world country in that little dirt-floored, window-less, grass-roofed hut in Africa, Asia or South America would think of us throwing good fresh drinking water away every time we eliminate personal waste products?) Instant-on lights, refrigeration, and glass cook top stoves and more food stockpiled in the pantry than we could eat in two weeks.

And: toilet paper!!! Have you ever considered what your life would be like without an ample supply of toilet paper? Great googly-moogly. Thank you Procter and Gamble for flushable paper. I am going to stop typing right now and get myself to the store to start stockpiling...

Well, those people who are making demands, saying 'I pay my utilities' and 'My family needs the 20 cubic foot upright freezer to work so all my groceries won't spoil' - they did choose to live in the mountains of New Hampshire or on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan or inaccessible Rocky Mountains in Montana. Yes, you will have times of aggravation, inconvenience and hardship. Like a twenty mile round trip to the curb store when you are out of beer and smokes at 10:00 p.m. But you do have that pick-up truck, and a pocket full of change to go down the hill to make the purchase, and a safe, dry, comfortable bed to sleep in when you get back.

So, step away from those temporary annoyances and discomforts: You do have all the promises and freedoms that come with American citizenship. Not 'free', mind you, but bought at great price by many generations of men and women in conflicts, service to country and committed in their efforts to preserve the constitution. But please: look UP instead of down, count your blessings, or snowflakes or children instead of complaining about the incessant mud they track in when the storm comes and the 'snow-days' accumulate.

All this to say, I was thinking about a road trip today: I have a car with a full tank of gas, good tires, excellent mileage ability, credit card for convenience at stops - and was moaning over the fact that I don't want to get out on the highway when I can't use the cruise control due to slick roads. Considering the annoyance of having to watch the speedometer every minute and adjust pressure on the accelerator constantly to keep speed steady - is that mundane, petty, silly, insignificant? Well... yesh, most definitely a poor excuse to postpone....

not really my story to tell, but ....

2012-01-07T18:55:00.000-08:00

This happened last week, and it's not really my story, but 'tellling' in an interesting way so I will report as an observer, even though I did not actually 'observe' as it unfolded. I think I may qualify as an Person of Interest or maybe just an interested party, but as I have pondered it for a couple of days, realize it might be better put in the recent commentary on Thankfulnesses.

A daughter was going to stay in the house down in south GA for the weekend, with friends, hangers-on, posse, associates, a generally motley crew. They were late leaving north GA, so excessively late getting to their destination: which explains why she called me at midnight or 12:01, providing opportunity for a heart attack or thoughts of 'blood gushing' and 'body parts flying' when the ringing awakens you from a sound sleep. She was reporting that the key I had described was not in the location as expected and in a quandry - tired, hoping for a nice warm bed. As if that were not awful enough: the bed would not be warm, since the HVAC was on the fritz. But just getting in the door was the first obstacle. ALL I could do from three hours away was say a bad word. Then call someone who was also sound asleep, but much closer with a spare. He admitted that he knew the location of the wayward key, and provided info. to get the weary travelers in the cold house.

They got in, and started to turn on lights. Then had a knock on the door from local law enforcement. So it took some explaining to satisfy the constabulary they had legitimate rights to be on the premises. I think they actually had to produce photo ID and got checked in the data base for felonious behavior. Pretty exciting for people who only wanted to fall into bed. I know they were asked to tell who, what, why, and where: interesting to consider, as I now realize that anyone with a penchant for B&E is likely to not know the street address for the scene of the crime.

Crazy under most circumstances to be thankful for nosy neighbors, but I am. I am glad someone lives in a house next door that has been off-and-on empty for years, that they were up and peering out through the curtains, being suspicious, and willing to make the call. Thankful to know they were concerned enough to be Minding My Business. And appreciative enough that I called to get info. so I could write a note and let them know they are welcome to mind anytime they want...

In this day and age of frivilous litigation, people seemingly oblivious, passing by those in distress, indifferent/unwilling to get involved, it is very gratifying, even on such a small scale, to know that there are people who want to step up. Interested enough in the lives of others to make a move to insure safety. I recently read about research someone had done on the Good Samaritan principle - curious to know what makes people stop, slow down their busy-ness, divert their path, change their plans to help out others in need. Researchers thought the primary reason might be compassion, or concern, or medical training, or just a desire to help. I don't know how the project was carried out, to come to the end result. But according to the story, the main reason people got involved: Time. They apparently were willing to devote their time to helping. Not trained experts, not overwhelming compassion, but just willing to stop and assist. I think: a willingness to do the right thing, even if it might be inconvenient. But I have come to realize that the most valuable commodity we all have is: Time.

Time: something we seem to be amazingly willing to let slip through our fingers, when we should all be far more deliberate, intentional in spending it wisely. So That is my plan for the coming year.What are you going to do with the next 52 weeks?

a multitude of reasons for being thankful... (ongoing)

2012-01-05T05:33:00.000-08:00

When I went down town last Sat. to do my little volunteer jobette, painting in the renovated branch bank building, I noticed a group of people standing around on the sidewalk. They were in front of the little brick building that is office space for the Homeless Network, a program that provides services/info. to people on the streets. They obviously had no place to go, nothing to do, nowhere else to hang out. It was Saturday, and the building was not open to the public. They were back there, standing in a close huddle to conserve body heat, on Monday morning, when the Network was probably closed for the holiday. Again: no place to go, nothing to do, except hang out... waiting for the next meal at Valley Rescue Shelter.

So let's start counting our blessings. Clean underwear? Warm clothes? Warm beds? Warm houses, bathrooms with heaters? Houses with thermostats instead of tents?Hot water for showers? Soap, towels? Toothbrushes? Resources to pay the power bill when it is cold or hot? Windows to open when the weather moderates? Vehicles to drive, plastic to pay for gas to power vehicles? Gloves to keep from touching that cold steering wheel? Carports to park cars in that prevent the 'incovenience' of scraping frost off vehicles that are paid-in-full? And let's hear it for wool socks!!

To say nothing of plenty of food, nutritious, meals of our choosing? To the point of making decisions to Not eat something if we choose? Health. Walking: sturdy, one-owner shoes, strength, energy, motivation, fresh air, sunshine, back around to good nutrition that gives the strength and energy to get out and do it...Plus a Highly Motivating factor is an excursion I am looking forward to in early August when I will go to TN, with P and C and J and his posse.

Family. Time. More time with family. I am making a deliberate conscious effort to spend time with the people I care most about. Have spaces marked off on my calendar for the next 12 months to devote to the people I love most who make me laugh best. U know who U R! I'm excited already!

...well, maybe not a scrrreeeching halt....

2012-01-05T04:54:00.000-08:00

The person who serves as our church receptionis has a talent/obviously gifted for the avocation of beautifully decorating our worship space. She recently found herself designing and painting wall-mounted scenery. What she has created has graciously, magnificently enhanced worship. She did a beautiful five-panel series of stretched canvas (even building the stretchers to her specs, and mounted the canvas) to illustrate Advent. She is now in the process of producing a rolled 'backdrop', more of an illustration, for the next sermon series, trying to finish in time to have up for this coming Sunday.

And me: I am the church laundry-lady. Stopping by every week to pick up dirty dish towels in the kitchen and return them several days later Magically Clean. (Somewhat/how related to the Clean Underwear Fairy who has been secretly living within the walls of our house for thirty years....amazingly mysteriously remarkably astounding that we have yet to see him/her/it.) I am considering petitioning at the next committee meeting to have an official title, and maybe even get a key to the kitchen door, so I can pick up and return the towels without chasing down one of maintianance staff for admittance.

When I was passing through on Wed., with clean towels, looking for a key-holder to the kitchen, I talked to the receptionist and found her stressing about getting her next project painted, dry, hung before Sunday at 9:00 a.m. So I told her when she got back to church with the paint, to call me and I would come help. As you know, I love to paint, and got pretty well squelched with my last project.

I went over about 7:00, we painted till nearly 10:30. Which means I was after 11:00 turning out the light and going to sleep. Which means I did not crash at the usual 8:30 or 9:00, which means I spent all night actually sleeping. That was nice. I accidently, unintentionally slept all night on Saturday, but feel like it was primarily due to the fact that we were nearly 1:00 (after New Year's Eve entertainment) getting to bed, so not sure I deserve bragging rights to a good night's sleep on that one.

Anyway - I told her when she got ready to finish up today - to call and I would come back and we could probably get the thing wrapped up in a couple of hours. Reminding me so of a 'Choppy-ism', a saying I recall from years ago, that I never heard come out of anyone mouth other than my mother: 'Many hands make light work'. Really enjoyed the work, that was not actually 'labor' since it was enjoyed, and the company. Thanks, J, for inviting me into yur world :)

painting career is over...

2012-01-05T04:21:00.000-08:00

That painting I did on the last day of that old, raggedy, used-up year has come to a screeching halt. I told the guy, Bill, who I assumed was the on-site supervisor, I could come back on Monday (1-2) and do more, priming the trim that already probably had forty coats of paint. So I went in and started about 10:00, hoping the building was warm enough for successful paint application.'They were not very organized'. Maybe recovering from staying up too late on Saturday night, but when I first saw the staff of Dr. and head nurse + Bill on Monday, they all had heads bowed in prayer, so I doubt there was much mis-behaving going on over the weekend ...just getting off to a slow, creaky start on a Monday morning.

I knew I would be using some primer that is very viscous, thick, all purpose, oil based, designed to stick to most any surface, and hard to remove. I'd tried to get that 'kilz' out of some paintbrushes I adopted/brought home on Saturday afternoon, made a run to wally world for paint thinner to let them soak after previous users left sitting in a water filled bucket far too long. With only marginal success. Had a very educational conversation about chemistry, paint, polymers with the paint-seller at discount store, which made me understand why my attempt would be aggravating, resulting with ultimately throwing the paint brushes in the trash....

So here I am, around noon on Monday, with a container of paint/primer in one hand, and a wet paint brush in the other, making the usual up and down motion that one would make when painting the door facing. Quietly going about my business, pondering the world. One of the guys on the 'official' painting crew comes through the hall way with a bucket and paint roller in his hands, looks at me and says: 'what are you doing?' I said "Painting". This happened two more times.I guess I was a bit slow in comprehension, but after the third time, I finally understood that my limited skills and experience were no longer needed/welcome. So I picked up my little bucket of supplies, discreetly left.

I think they were aiming for a 'soft opening' of the clinic this week, but from what I saw on Monday, were far from ready to provide community health services. I think Jan. 4 or 5 was their goal, the date they were aiming for, but I will watch for info. in the paper. Our home-town Ledger-Enquirer (now printed in Macon, GA, in a cost-cutting measure) has gotten so pitifully thin by focusing on pertinent local news of stabbings, wrecks, lurid scenarios involving well-known, high-profile citizens, dirt-digging, dipping local politicians and public employees in the mud-hole - they often print 'sections' that consist of pages 1-4.

But I am looking forward to reading about the clinic opening.I plan to share that information with an un-insured, un-employed, medically ailing friend, to make her aware of their services, and hope she will go and find relief from chronic problems. When people get to the point that they can barely walk, inching along in pain, I know they need relief... and the one I know personally might benefit from a little push to get there...

an interesting day/way to end the year...

2011-12-31T16:27:00.000-08:00

I spent most of the day painting walls today. I got an email yesterday asking for volunteers to help with renovating a building in an older section of town. They are remodeling an old branch bank to transform it into a medical office. I'm not fully informed about the whole story, but will tell what I know... (in spite of trying to raise daughters to Not Do That.)

The doctor who will run the clinic has been doing something similar in Augusta, with support from the medical community there (which would be enormous with Medical College facilities to provide staffing and loads of interns and residents looking for someone to 'practice' on). He was persuaded to come to Columbus and start a clinic here that would provide care for the un-insured, under-served population, people who need medical help and don't have the resources to do anything more pro-active than drag into the ER when they get so miserable, or so badly injured they need more than band-aids or over the counter meds. Folks who are homeless, or suddenly unemployed, lost health coverage, seniors living on small fixed incomes of retired mill-workers who have to decide between filling the Rx or buying groceries.

I understand the medical community will corporately support what he is planning. The clinic is located close to downtown, in an economically depressed area where there is a tremendous need, but will provide care to anyone who can get there. Medical Center and St. F. Hosp. will help with funding, because this clinic will help the people who would otherwise show up in their ER, with problems that are not considered 'traumatic' or life threatening. I am sure there is probably some private funding as well, from some families with 'old money' and deep pockets who have the resources to do go anonymously. It pleases me, no matter the source, there are people in the community who are aware of the need, and willing to tackle the problem, aggressively seek solutions to provide needed assistance for the under-served who so often fall through the cracks in our society.

I spent the day painting. We made pretty good progress until the Dr. came in with three little girls who asked Daddy if they could paint - so then it was pretty much herding monkeys until they lost interest. I then spent a couple of hours re-doing what the monkeys did in a bathroom that the public will not have access to, so it does not matter that they got that horrid, institutional green paint Every where. Probably including each other, though I did not see the finished product the sisters were wearing, before they left for lunch.

I went to wally world to get some solvent, cleaner and need to go clean paint brushes. Will go back on Monday to work on the trim... since they are hoping to have the Grand Opening on Thursday. They don't know how much I like to paint.

cookbook-ing

2011-12-30T04:11:00.000-08:00

With a family member who is a professional chef, you'd think I would be all about cookbooks and such. But I cleaned that shelf off in the pantry several years ago, and gave most away (probably to the chef - who I also gifted with a whole rolling suitcase full of cookbooks at one point - that caused her to have to get a bookshelf built to hold them all!) I am a little shame-faced to admit I rarely cook anymore, and even more rarely in search of a recipe to get the end product to come out 'right'. I probably have less than a dozen bound books as resources, (you can always 'google it up') as well as a small file box filled with 3-5 cards. If I was not interested enough in the recipe to put it on a card in the file, it is likely untested in my kitchen. Those cards are my first option/resort: I dearly love to thumb through those little dirty, frayed, faded, food-spotted cards and discover the one I was searching for is written out in script by someone long gone, but remembered fondly/with love.

I recently bought/pre-ordered prior to shipping several cookbooks from the Infantry Museum, not knowing what I would do with them, but you know how we are when tempted with that old sales trick of: 'savings here!' proposal - even though it means spending to save... I got a whopping bargain, and only spent $86 for four that are now $30 each. Am I not the clever one?! So I gave them to the younger gen. who actually do spend time in the kitchen, and will hopefully try some of the eclectic assorted printed gems collected from all over the world, military families, supporters, veterans, museum volunteers, etc.

The Infantry Museum cookbook I took to Decatur to give away received several rounds of hilarity in response, when they found recipes for elephant casserole (feeds 8,362) and armadillo stew. Reminding me of the recipe from my brother years ago for Rum Cake that I submitted to reprint in a small cookbook the Presbyterians were producing... that ended with 'take another shot of rum and bo to ged'.I've known for years 'How to Eat an Elephant', but if you are interested in information on the prep. part, it has now been published as well...

lost civility in this 'modern' age

2011-12-30T03:46:00.000-08:00

Funny that I would be writing this right after talking about how desperate I was to get 'tech support' with cell phone, but it has been on my mind in one form or another for a couple of weeks, and I feel the need to step up on the soapbox again. As I seem to have a lot of free time here at 5:30 a.m., see no reason not to give all three of you another piece of my mind... though I am sure there will come a time when I don't have any molecules to spare and hope you will save/remind/return to me things that are escaping faster than helium from an inflated balloon.

I spoke to my husband (obviously inappropriately - as he got profoundly huffy, and remained in a state of 'Grinch' for hours) about taking out his cell phone recently when we were sitting in a restaurant waiting for our server. He said he was just checking email, and I said that the people we were with were more important than the latest message/update. He did put it away, but we have yet to have the 'conversation' that will, I am sure make him very defensive and irritable all over again. Which is pretty interesting, since I am of the opinion that people usually get 'that way' when they Know They Are In The Wrong and so thoroughly dislike admitting (and especially apologizing for) bad behavior.

I often see people in pairs, or groups, sitting in public places, obviously having deliberately planned a convivial outing together, with heads bent low, text-ing or perusing mini-screens on their pocket sized electronics. I think I would have (slightly) more tolerance for such horrifying failure to interact if they were small children in need of diversion. But they if they are independent enough to get to any given location, and capable of paying their own expenses when they get there - they surely should have the ability to carry on a conversation/amuse themselves and companions. Especially with people they deliberately choose to meet/invest their most valuable commodity in.

I'm ready to hear from 'Ms. Manners' about: social isolation in a crowded room? Turn it off? Put it down? Make eye contact? Force yourself to invent small talk? Take baby steps toward relearning how to verbalize with your mouth instead of thumbs? I've seen articles that indicate all these young people who have electronic messaging devices prefer to type than actually make the call and talk with their friends - no actual interacting on a verbal level - too risky? Too easily mis-understood? Too simple?

When I accidently/unintentionally bought myself a new cell phone this week, I asked if they could disable the part that receives text messages. I found a number of messages on the old phone last week, that I did not know were there, or how to retrieve... so you know how interested I am in devoting my time to that! Forget expecting such tricks from this Old Dog...(though I will admit to trying to figure out how to send a message last night when I was walking in the dusky evening to say:' I saw the moon'!)

O.k., done with that....

a 'gift' I did not intend to purchase...

2011-12-30T02:23:00.000-08:00

I did not mean to A) buy myself a new cell phone for Christmas, or B) have to learn how to use a new piece of techno-whiz. But I find myself compelled to do both - and think that the purchase will likely (and unlikely!) be less painful than the learning curve.Mostly due to having acquired this new one with montrous discounts and a $30 rebate that brought the price down to ten dollars plus a postage stamp was nearly as good as going in the store when I was informed that my contract was up for renewal and qualified for a new one - which the guy who pays the bill got instead. Being a guy, happens to be Very Fond of bells and whistles: the bigger the boy, the bigger the toy.

Happy New Year's Eve eve: I am up in the wee hours again, (4:30 a.m.) in spite of all the things I did to sleep all night... oh well.

I wanted to report:

I got all those missing numbers out of the old phone. Idecided to give it one last shot, so I took it back to the ATT store where they (independently of my personal preferences) bought my new one, and the sales guy said they had not been properly saved and un-retriev-able. But I could get it to power up,where they could not, so decided that I would just go in and act pitiful, possibly get on my knees and whine if necessary.

The sales guy told me I could take that sadly abused phone with the number pad lit up, but black screen, to another store across town and they had some technology that would transfer the missing contacts. I found my new Best Friend, who hooked me up with all those people who went MIA when I dropped the phone over the weekend.

I was, needless to say, delighted to be back in business with my Family and Friends. There were several people on speed dial, but all the others were amongst the Disappeared - until I met my new BF at the ATT store yesterday. Three trips to the various ATT stores were, I think, a small price to pay for being able to 'reach out and touch someone' instead of waiting and wishing and hoping they would want to be calling me so I could get those contacts back after a 'series of unfortunate accidents' this past weekend.

But you can still call me if you are one of the 3 people who read this on a regular basis...hearing from you always makes me smile :)

yesh - that was amusing... now that it's over...

2011-12-29T17:26:00.000-08:00

I was really anxious about going, and very apprehensive about what would happen: sounds like dental surgery? Not at all sure I was fully committed but past the point of backing out, knowing that I had to finish what I had started: sounds like childbirth? Thinking I might just plead nausea, and go lock myself in the bathroom: sound like a blind date? Wondering 'what was I thinking" when I agreed to go: sound like jumping out of a perfectly good airplane? It took me sleeping on it and having my little pondering hour this morning at 4:00 am, to decide I think I had enough fun to want to do it again... maybe. In about 364 days...

Went to Decatur yesterday morning to play 'paintball' with my little brood and several complete strangers, people who just ambled up about the same time we did, apparently with their own 'groupons',knowing the meter was ticking, time was running out for their own 'fun opp.'. F. lost her mind several months ago and purchased two 'groupons' for us to go, and we had to get it done before mid-January when they expired. The only time we could all get together was this week, so against better judgement and basic sanity: I went. They kept looking at me all afternoon, asking if I was 'OK?' Having fun? Enjoying myself? So under all the safety equipment, I must have looked pretty stressed out, visibly apprehensive... And it took getting almost to the end of a 500 count bag of little marble sized thin-shelled plastic balls filled with bright orange paint for me to say: well, what the hell... and start blasting away.

Blessedly those grubby little guys who were running the paintball establishment really seriously focus on safety (to their own benefit I am sure, as one accident could quickly put them out of business!) We amused ourselves for several hours with no more damage than some welts and bruises that will soon become badges of honor. (What is it about guys that makes them want to rehash the story of the biggest fish, largest mammal, woolly mammoth hunt over and over?) We were assured the paint will wash out, but you'll have to wait for 'news at 11:00' for that report. Little Grubby Guys had a couple of different scenarios set up and we were divided variously into teams to shoot one another - mildly amusing. Probably 'way more fun for those with testerone pumping, but it was an interesting experience, and entertaining enough (in retrospect) for me to demand a rematch.

I've had a chance to inspect my parts for damage, and found big bruises on my right forearm, about 3 inches in diameter, and one a little bigger, where I must have taken a closer hit on the left upper arm that is really sore - but since it is right where I got my flu shot about a week ago, I did not think much of it, until I pulled off my long sleeves and looked, thankful that it is not on my face! I was a bit wussy when we started, so expect the other more adventuresome enthusiasts have much more impressive bruises to show for all that fun we had...

So: yesh, we had fun...and togetherness and laughing, smiles, family, being with people who have a really strange sense of humor (that they attribute to a genetic predisposition and completely beyond their control).

ready for Christmas? me neither!

2011-12-21T03:29:00.000-08:00

Well, actually, I am ready - it's just that my house isn't. I have things I want to get done like cleaning up a bit, thought I don't know exactly why I think it is necessary - other than I have not done it in weeks. And it will be full of people, who am certain are not coming as health inspectors - especially since they have various and sundry hairy animals living in their houses that leave clouds of dust bunnies and tumbleweeds every step they take. My own personal dust bunnies are of the common, garden variety, and nothing so exotic one could be knitting scarves and sox from the residue... so my lowered standards are barely noticeable.

And I have wrapped zero gifts - no, wait: I mailed one off last week in a box of baked goodies. But I there is a bin in the closet that needs papering and taping and tagging, so I am not as ready as I could be. But the thing is: I am absolutely, positively convinced at this point in my aimless little life that Christmas is about connections and family. Making the effort to be with people you care about. Devoting yourself to giving 'time' instead of stuff.

For the past couple of years, one of my girls has devoted quite a bit of effort to share skills with people she wanted to gift for the holidays: making handmade things, sewing, crafting, cooking with husband, doing cute and clever instead of 'made in China'. So there is the 'thing' that is the gift, but there is also the Thought + Preparation + Effort + Time = Thing that she takes to the office and will share her skills and cleverness with co-workers as the Thing changes hands. (People Do still sew at home! yes! and we are such a rarity that other people will actually pay for having pants hemmed, buttons replaced, girl scout badges sewn on vests...)

I told them years ago that I did not want any 'stuff'. Nothing to wear, nothing to have to find a place to put and then dust around, move from place to place to clean. All's I want any more is time. Just a little attention from the people I care about... I guess that is some portion of the reason I write so much, send so many cards and notes, compose letters to mail and generously support the aching, aging US Postal System. Putting my effort into staying in touch, communicating through the hand written word: devoting my time to keeping friends and family informed, and signing my notes with 'love' - that's what's important. Email is good, conveinent, fast, cheaper than cheap - but nothing compares to opening your mail box and finding a letter or postcard someone wanted You to have.

So I have spent hours and hours the past three days handwriting notes to about seventy five people I want to stay connected with - lucky you! Making four trips to the post office in the past week for more stamps and addressing all those cards to keep in touch... remind all those people of my interest in their lives. You know who you are... better run out and buy those 'Forever' stamps and support the postal system before Ben Franklin starts spinning in his grave...

civilized behavior unravelling....?

2011-12-16T18:22:00.000-08:00

I am appalled by the death of common courtesy in our society. I am horrified by the inconsiderate people who are walking around among us, loose on the streets without supervision by trained professionals who should be accompanying them to protect the rest of us from their compulsive behavior and baser instincts.

I heard a story today that makes me so irritated and annoyed I could not actually believe I was hearing the re-telling correctly. She was loading gallons of milk (you know how heavy those things are: at least eight pounds each) from a grocery cart in to the bed of the truck from the sidewalk (and yes, I know it was a no parking zone), when a woman passed by and shoved the cart off the sidewalk, causing it to crash, and bust a jug, wasting a gallon of milk. Without the first inkling of 'sorry', or 'whoopz' or 'can I replace that for you?' What's the world coming to?

And another story about a little fifth grade boy who was overheard by a third party/adult saying he thought a particular teacher was 'pretty', so he was suspended, charged with harassment. I'm all for the Zero Tolerance program with school bullying and opposed to anything that even remotely smaks of sexual inuendo or suggestive talk: but please.... people.... this is ridiculous.

If you are the rude, thoughtless, ill-mannered (possibly mentally unstable) individual who deliberately shoved the grocery cart off the sidewalk and onto it's side in the parking lot, or the adult who felt a ten year old child paying his teacher a compliment was out of line,.... we need to talk. But then again - if you are so out of touch with reality and common courtesy as to believe having no couth is acceptable, it is likely we are on such different wave-lengths, we probably don't have a common language in which to communicate.

I'm done - off the soap box. But open to suggestion as to what we might begin to do as a society that could turn our minds and hearts down another path and head us back toward a more compassionate, considerate, lucid, meditative state. Please don't take Newt Gingrich seriously. I am hoping all the people who are smart enough to realize what a clown he is, are just to polite to even discuss it, but will know what to do next November.

on the way to a job this morning...

2011-12-14T18:15:00.000-08:00

I planned to leave the house about 7:00, to have time to stop by Publix on the way to the 8:00 start time for the sub. teaching job today. And nearly got out the door on time (this from the person who willingly admits that if I am riding with him on Sunday mornings, I always get there 15 minutes early, but if for some reason we are driving separately, I am always ten minutes late), so I think I should get some points/partial credit for the 'nearly' part.

There is usually a 3 to 5 minute wait at the top of my driveway, not even able to inch out onto the street, with traffic coming over the hill in three different directions. Hundreds of cars going to and from the elementary school a half mile away, plus hundreds - literally- of autos with commuters headed into town. All these vehicles going towards town/work, trying to get out in the flow at the intersection about one hundred feet from my mail box. Everyone attempting to make a left turn at the same time I am, in an effort to get someplace on time when we all started ten minutes late.

But this morning: when I left the house, only about three minutes after 7:00, and started up the driveway... no traffic what-so-ever. None. Nobody. Nothing moving on my street except my toyo. All the way to the end - no one - and nearly nothing barrelling down the highway - I was so confounded, baffled by the relative ease and complete lack of competition - I thought that the Rapture might have started without me - and I was more than a little alarmed to think I had got left. But I did not see any abandoned vehicles or empty shoes, so apparently I haven't missed my chance.

sub. teaching needs proliferate

2011-12-14T03:18:00.000-08:00

Today will be my 3rd. sub. teaching job for the week - unusual in lots of ways. I think there are so many people competing for the fill-in jobs that I rarely get one a week. And there are weeks when I have so many other little items filling in the squares on my calendar, just some little something - any number of minor commitments - that when I do get a call at 6:03 a.m., I can't accept a 'day labor' job. Plus most of the calls I get are for someone to fill in a spot for a para.pro./aide (which does not pay nearly as well as the Teacher jobs), which is why everyone else who is job-searching/fishing for work jumps on the Teacher jobs, to make nearly double what they pay for replacing a para. in a classroom.

I was in the fourth grade Mon. and Tues... and can't explain what made me accept being in a room with two dozen ten year olds. I generally try to only take jobs that are pre-K, K or first grade, that usually have two people in the room, as I feel if there is already someone in there who knows their schedule, knows them well enough to call the misbehaving down by name, it will be a much better day for all parties concerned. So I actually don't mind going in a room as the para: other than the poor pay that indicates 'you are obviously not as valuable or valued as the Teacher is in this setting'. But I do like to leave at the end of the day with all my hair intact. Not so much from having the troop of excitable monkeys, hanging off your limbs and pulling on it - but the stress of trying to control the uncontrollable can make you pull your own hair out in despair and frustration.

I will be a para. pro today, at a school on the south side. But when I was down there a couple of weeks ago, it was in a well-disciplined, organized, classroom with a teacher who obviously loved her work and loved those little people, so I am hopeful about today... and will start looking for some 'day labor' jobs to fill in the rest of the week, before they get out for the holidays.

various and sundry road trips...

2011-12-14T03:03:00.000-08:00

I went from one end of the state to the other last week: from Q. to TN. At some point recently my little toyo. has turned over on 10,000 miles. Which is somewhat worrisome after recently reading that the batteries are designed for that - and now I am fearful I will have to fork over the cost of replacement at any moment - or be coasting to an unexpected, ill-timed stop in an undesirable location (that would ideally be right in front of the battery store!)

I'd planned to go to Q. to do some dreaded house-cleaning, and year-end visit last week. Then I took a sub. teaching job on that particular day, so was mid-afternoon leaving town. On the way south, I got a call that dear friends in mid-FL were motoring to Tally. in anticipation of/impending birth of first grandchild. So I went on to FL instead, to see the new person and welcome APM to the world.He's already good looking, which is not always the case of new babies. Happy people, lots of joy.

Then I went on to Q. in the dark, flopped into bed. Spent most of the next day cleaning, with a little visiting around: went to see a friend of my mom's and to Valdosta to see my auntie, (and the new auntie of APM who had just moved into a new house - that as it turns out, has had several 'new house' problems, hopefully all resolved?) Got up early on Thurs. to get back to Col., so I could unload and reload to go to TN on Friday.

The worst part about going to Chatt-y-nooga is getting through ATL, but it was not a bad trip (or at least no worse than usual), probably due to the time of day I squeezed my way onto I-285. Got to TN before noon, and had lunch, went to an (over-priced) craft show/sale downtown, and did some shopping. Then across town to the mall to spend more $$$, and back to St. Elmo/nest of family.

We did errands on Sat.: shopping for gifts, trip to Post Office. That ill-fated trip to the p.o.: we were just there on Friday afternoon - right there in the parking lot and did not get the stamps to mail the Christmas Cards. So after driving across town again, and going to stand in line for ten minutes, behind a woman who had forty packages to mail at self-service, I said: 'just give me the cards and I will mail them for you'. So I went to the p.o. here, and bought happy holiday stamps, mailed them to Chatt. I know it is crazie to mail stamps - but not nearly as crazie as standing in line for half an hour when the inconsiderate person ahead of you in line won't look over her shoulder and give way.

After shopping, eating too much, hanging out, we cruised around to see Christmas lights on Sat. night. Went up on Lookout Mtn, and enjoyed the view out over the city - when the trees are bare - I guess you can enjoy the 'lights' for months on end with or without any seasonal decoration?. The tour of Rock City over the holidays is highly promoted on billboards and well advertised during the fall, trying to make it a destination, with 'annual pass' rates... but we were not persuaded to want to stumble and bump around in the dark along the edge of the precipice. They can actually see the festive decor. along the edge of Rock City from their house down in the valley, so we just enjoyed the SeeRockCity! view from a friendly neighborhood distance. And no 'SeeRubyFalls! for me either, as I have lost nothing down in a hole....

Went to church on Sunday morning, had lunch and started home, with a side trip to Decatur. Got it all unloaded (and found things I had to mail to Chatt. that should not have come to GA), and ready to start sub. job on Monday morning.

it almost felt like skipping school...

2011-12-03T03:39:00.000-08:00

What it really was: was a stolen day. Completely unaccountable. But did not really misbehave, other than eating some things that made me feel guilty (for just a few minutes - and since we did not even order dessert - that wee little twinge of wrong-doing did not last long enough to be worth mentioning...) I prefer to think of last Wednesday, Nov. 30 as a day Filled with Opportunities - but if that were actually the case, we probably would have ordered one of everything on the dessert menu and two spoons.

One of my favorite cohorts reported months ago, and instructed me to mark on my calendar that Nov. 30 had been designated (by who? we will never know!) as Official Stay At Home Day. So what did I do to mark such an important milestone? yah, you guessed: left home... went to Decatur and spent the day slouching around. Then when it was over, and time for me to leave to go back to where I actually should have been all along (Home), I asked ' how in the world did you manage to finagle getting off from work for such a completely unlikely bogus reason?' She claims she had requested the day off weeks ago, and she also claims to have told the truth about the reason: she had to stay at home. I am convinced it is the lamest, 'most unlikely to be succeed' holiday ever, but: if it works, it works...and if you have seen the youtube videos of people who supported the 'wear your underwear to work' event, you will probably agree.

I recently read a quote by a well-known 'celebrity': a term often woefully mis-used and applied to people (with a large following of photographers who document their every move/bite/hair color) who dress unattractively in public, make fools of themselves by doing things that would horrify their grandmothers and generally completely destroy their reputations - in the unlikely event they had one at all. The quote was, I think, from Robert DeNiro - or maybe not- but went something like: 'there are no 'guilty' pleasures, just pleasures'. So though nobody actually kept themselves in p.j.s and robe on the Official Stay at Home day, it was mildly entertaining.

One of the things we did was go to the Christmas tree lot and accidently abscond with a tree. The only reason it was borrowed, instead of bought, is that there was no Attendant on the lot. The Boy Scouts had set up in a corner of a small mall, and were apparently not open for business until Dec.1, and obviously 'un-manned' during the day. (Got a report later that two other people had borrowed trees and not bothered to leave contact info./return to pay for goods). She left a note on the door of the trailer, and later went back to cover the cost of the 10-foot tall tree we delivered to her workplace.

When we leaving the house (fully clothed!) on the Tree Mission, I asked if we could take a box of bows I had been riding around in my car. Big pretty, sparkly, colorful, fluffy bows for holiday decorating on fresh green wreaths. I tried to sell to a guy who has a tree lot near wally-world and he told me how pretty they were. I told him I was a trained professional with much experience, then he said No. Oh. O.k.

So, while airing the bows out as they were enjoying the scenery cruising around in the backseat, I was pondering my next move: where is a more likely tree lot to get rid of a dozen fluffy holiday bows? And said: 'hmmm, I can just donate them to the Boy Scouts, to decorate the fresh, fragrant wreaths they will be selling for supporting their fun and projects'. Brilliant idea!

When she went back the next day to pay for the absconded tree, she took the pile of sparkly ribbons and asked if they could use them, in exchange for a receipt for goods donated to a non-profit. So: I hope the little scouts put the ribbons on their holiday decorations, and will increase the price of their goods. And I hope they will send me a receipt for the bows that I can then use as a deduction on my taxes.

I know you have already got your calendar for next year, and at the very least started filling up the little squares in January with various and sundry things that you need to remember/attend to. So go ahead and turn over to November, and write 'National Stay at Home Day' on the 30th. We will get together and eat bad/good stuff, laugh, enjoy life.

kinda, sorta, but not really...

2011-12-02T06:37:00.000-08:00

I had a couple of days this week of substitute teaching work - but not really. I was there, in the classroom, on Monday and Tuesday, but since I was the 'para-pro'/aide and had no idea what was going on, the daily schedule/routine, what they are capable of, what to expect - I was not actually useful... Plus those days of replacing the second on command, pay about half of what being the teacher pays, so it was only marginally productive in a remunerative sense as well.

I have made quite a few disparaging remarks about work as a sub. in the public schools in recent months and years as it gets more challenging, and frustrating trying to get to the part where you feel like you might actually be doing some good, effective even only for a few minutes with an occasional impact on a random child. I become more and more convinced that a big part of the struggle teachers face is due to issues within the home environment. And wondering: are children so often disrespectful and uncooperative because the teachers (and authority figures in general) are not honored and respected by other adults the children come in contact with outside of the educational arena? As in so many other areas: children are learning by what they see modeled as acceptable behavior. End of editorial...

Anyway: the two days I spent this week in schools down on the south side of town were very gratifying. I am sure part of it is because the kids were young enough to have some respect for authority, and maleable enough to want to learn, absorbing everything they are exposed to (both good and otherwise!). But those teachers were so obviously dedicated to what they are doing, it was a delight to be in the classroom with people who are there to try to have a positive impact. Those two classrooms, in different schools, were happy places, conducive to learning and education, well-run, disciplined, managed by people who obviously had plenty of experience and knew what it takes to make a herd of five-year olds feel valued and successful.

I think another part of it is that five year olds will always be five year olds - each August, that kindergarten teacher gets in a new batch of 'blank slates', to put the information in and hope you have a lasting impact. And each year, the teacher is a little wiser, more experienced, better able to discern the things that worked or didn't - even though some of that verbosity of curriculum guidelines/requirements probably makes them want to pull their hair out. I don't know the solution, and don't even know if there Is a solution: but it is apparent from what I saw on Monday and Tuesday, that there are teachers who do it because they love kids, and love the challenge of corralling up a roiling tussle of excitable five-year old, and applying knowledge to their brains.

after Tksg. road trip...

2011-11-26T05:33:00.000-08:00

No Black Friday shopping for me, unless you are including a tank of gas, and snacks at the curbstore. I cannot imagine wanting anything enough to spend the night in a sleeping bag on the side walk to get a bargain.

I woke up about 4:30, left home around 5:30, so was in Q. by around 8:30, rearranged the lighting in the house, checked for trash as I assumed no one else had thought to take it out - and when I found it sitting in the big pick-up bin in the back yard, rolled it out to the street. How they expected the truck driver to know we had a wee little bag of trash awaiting in the bin sitting behind the house?... I cannot fathom.

Picked a bag 'o' satsumas to take and share, leaving the high ones I could not reach, and a few really low ones for the kids next door to enjoy.

I stopped by J. Mitchell's house out off W. Screven St., for a little chat, since I did not see her when I was there a couple of weeks ago, and gave her a handful of juicy little fruits.

Went fifteen miles up Tallokas Rd. to Nichols Lake to visit for an hour or so, leaving a little trail of sweet, drippy satsuma-gifts, and on to Pavo and Thomasville, across the wiregrass through Camilla and Bainbridge, then south into Florida to Chattahoochee.

We drove west across the river to someplace - Mariana, I think? - for lunch, and then back to Chatty., and just sat around visiting for several hours until we went north to Bainbridge, then out in the country to the smack-dab middle of nowhere to meet relatives and have supper at the "Pond House" restaurant, a remarkably attractive, cypress sided building 'way to the west of town. I wondered 'are we in Alabama yet?' we went so far into the woods, but did not hit a body of flowing water, so I guess not...

When you live in the city, where 99 percent of the roads are paved, you can forget that you were raised differently and learned how to drive on dirt, rough, un-graded sandy stretches that turn into 'washboards' with sufficient time and travel. The last little stretch, when we got to the end of the 'hard road' was sandy, down a little hill, and into the unpaved parking area near the restaurant, located on the backside of nowhere. The drive out in the woods, which surely ended in Seminole County, made me think we had traveled as far south and west as possible to go and still be in GA.

It reminded me of being fifteen years old in B.C., and grinding gears on the straight shift of the old Ford Fairlane station wagon. Anxious to do well, and nervous beyond description, with my dad riding shotgun, patient as Job, and far more confident than I about my 'readiness'. I can remember stress over when to depress/release the clutch, struggling to coordinate hands and feet. Really a monumental task when up until then, the greatest complication of my life was using the skate key that I wore on a dirty little knotted string around my neck, and used to make sure the roller skates did not fall off as I rolled down the sidewalk south towards grandmothers house.

I wonder if I could do that now - all that hand/food coordinantion, but think it is probably like riding a bicycle- even if your skills get as rusty as the bike, your body parts never forget how to handle their particular assignments: hands and feet, vision, balance - to keep everything going in the same direction at the same time.

The 'Fish Pond' location made me think of going with my parents and their friends years ago to the Homecoming fish restaurant in the woods of western Thomas County - you had to know where you were going to get there - and I think the advertising was kinda covert, all word of mouth - so someone who really liked you had to take you the first time to show you the route. Twisting and turning and veering down so many little cow-path-sized dirt roads, making you wish you'd brought a big ball of string to unwind that would help you find you way back to civilization before bedtime.

I left the friends to return to FL, patiently (or not so much) awaiting the birth of a grandbaby in Tallahassee... any news yet?

I think it was about 7:30 when I left that place in the woods, and started to feel my way back in the pitch black dark of a cloudy night, to Bainbridge and highway 27. Had to stop for some caffiene when I realized I was running off the road out there on the backside of darkness, and finally got back to Columbus at nearly 10:00, stopping at Walmart for cat food. I expected to be exhausted, wanted to fall into bed, but could not go to sleep until nearly midnight due to the soda I picked up at a curb store to keep me between the lines.

When I woke up this morning, I was pondering how far I had driven, and wish I had thought to make a note before I left home before first light on Friday morning. I know it is 167 miles from my house to the back door of 1209., and think my circuitous route to Bainbridge must have been another 100, then the loop back from north Florida would have to be as far as it is from C. to Q., so I am thinking close to 500 miles.

I am pleased to say I do not have any plans for today.

I'm not Reeeallllly that old, am I?

2011-11-16T05:22:00.000-08:00

Spent a couple of days last weekend in south GA, reconnecting with my past - there was a multi-year high school reunion that covered over a decade. I'm not sure how many were in the classes before I graduated, but guess they would, over time, average out to be 80-100. Which should indicate what a sheltered life one can lead in a small rural town, when there are six public high schools here, (plus several private/church smaller schools) with classes that might have 350-400 seniors. So just guesstimating at 100 x 12 years, there was the potential for a thousand people there, allowing for farming accidents and beef-eating, sausage-gravy, biscuit poisoning heart attacks. I guess the crowd was pretty good in a bad, slow economy with any number of reasons for people not attending, including, I am sure, just not knowing they could have been there amusing themselves by observing how 'everyone else' has aged.

My cousin and I enjoyed ourselves, probably him more than myself, as it appeared he had stayed connected with folks from the past better than I. I looked for people I did not find, and have to wonder if I just didn't recognize them. I got really good at walking around and sticking out my hand to introduce myself, then asking 'am I supposed to know you'? If that person had married into Brooks County, instead of being raised there, I did feel a whole lot better at demonstrating my ignorance! And many were of classes far enough ahead of mine that I only vaguely might associate their family names with my alma mater.

I remember looking up Quitman, GA in an encyclopedia in my college days and finding the population (early 1970's so that information would have likely been outdated/over ten years old) was just over 5,000. I think I remember hearing someone report over the weekend that the latest census report indicates a number closer to 3,000. It is distressing to go and see 2/3 of the store fronts in that little town (with a retail area of aboutsix commercial blocks) empty, blank, devoid of enterprise.

There are people who are joining together to try to improve the economic situation, but unless a major industry falls out of the sky and lands in Brooks County, I am not optimistic. I get occasional emails from 'destination Brooks', so I know there are folks in town who are continually making the effort to attract business and keep the population stable, but it is so sad to go and see a town that was once a hub of commerce languishing. If it were not for several traffic lights the DOT installed after they bull-dozed the city into agreeing to allow a four-laned main street (Hwy 84) through town, the semi-tractor/trailers that barrel through day and night would blow the little town off the map entirely.

Many of the people I saw who had returned after life elsewhere, careers in industry or military, are retired, and choose to settle back into a slower pace. So maybe the area needs to focus on that age bracket: a haven for senior citizens. Certainly a group that has a reliable steady income, and no need for employment in a town that has little to offer in the way of opportunity or advancement. So: do you wanna move to south GA? It's a peaceful place, but seems to be at the end of a cul-de-sac.

law enforcement ride along, part 4

2011-11-10T03:30:00.000-08:00

I went on a Saturday night with a deputy for my last in the series. After I arrived at the government center, and was directed up stairs to the Sherriffs' office, I sat and listened to their router/call center operater (only one person as compared to at least six with the police department - but most of the calls that come to the Sherriffs office are directed there from the 911 call center). When the deputy came in from his car to get me, he said that people who have lived in more rural areas, and are unfamiliar with police, will often call and request a deputy rather than a patrol officer, so they do respond to calls, but most of their work is related to the court system.

He has several summons he needed to serve, to people who were needed to serve on the Grand Jury. We made the stops, but most places there had already been a visit by a deputy, and a card stuck in the door with a note to call. He is required by law to place the summons in the hands of the person listed, unless that person is a minor, and cannot leave the paperwork with anyone else in the house. After failing to find any of the people at home, he drove out on the north side of town, up on I-185, to monitor traffic. We spent an hour of so doing traffic stops. With the new 'superspeeder' law, and the state law that requires motorists to slow down or move over for emergency vehicles, they like to work in pairs - to catch passersby who flaunt the 'move over' law. The DMV will send a bill for $200, and suspend the license if it is not paid: surprise!

The deputy had several locations people have requested they periodically check for party-ing on the weekends, so we cruised around a school and construction site. He was telling me that in his spare time he does some geneaology work, helping people locate old grave sites, and searching for cemeteries that are not on city maps. And said that being in a patrol car, with a uniform on is very helpful in getting people to provide information they would otherwise be reluctant to share. This guy is one of the few people I have met while living in Columbus who says he was born and raised here,and has lived here all his life. People who can remember 'back when' have some really interesting stories to tell about what the area looked like thirty or fifty years ago.

This is the last of the four ride-alongs, and nearing the end of the Citizen's Law Enforcement Academy classes. It is been a real eye-opener. I think everyone who benefits from feeling safe and secure in our community would find the experience invaluable - and it would likely make them all, as I am, vastly appreciative of the people who choose a profession in law enforcement as keepers of the peace. I have become a flag-waving fool in recent years, supporting members of the military and what they volunteer to do - and feel the same way about all those in public safety. Thanks for your commitment.

law enforcement ride along, part 3

2011-11-10T03:12:00.000-08:00

I went on a Friday night for the evening events with a detective. I'd gotten pretty anxious about going in general, as it would keep me up later than normal, and was sincerely hoping that I would neither be an embarrassment or get in a situation where my squeamishness would make them wish I was not present. Remembering my experiences when working with Head Start program and doing home visits going into places that still make me uneasy when they come to mind all these years later, I was a little fearful about where law enforcers do business.

As soon as the detective picked me up, she said she was headed to an apartment where others would meet her. There as a felony warrant out on an individual they had located, stopped in a rental/moving truck and discovered a gallon bag full of very fragrant weed, which she had in a paper bag in her backseat. We were constantly suffused with that unique aroma: smelling remarkably suspect ourselves. The search for the (alleged) felon started several days earlier with an altercation involving a firearm had brought about the warrant, so they were holding three of the men from the vehicle, one of whom was the brother of the person they wanted.Needless to say, they all denied knowledge of the controlled substance.

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I went along when they searched the apartment, and was secretly horrified: thinking Yikes - they go through some very personal stuff - what if this was Mine?. These guys do a Very Thorough job - looking Everywhere. I stood aside and watched them put on their gloves, and go through all the piles of clothing, all the dresser drawers, all the moving boxes, all the appliances, all the cupboards, all the closets, all the OTC stored in the bathroom, every personal item in the house, all the upholstered furniture, even the crawl space above the ceiling. They found some misc. pills, in baggies, unidentified, plus several boxes of zip-bags, that indicated to the detectives a possibility/likelihood to distribute the gallon of very potent smelling weed.

We went back to the Public Safety building, where the three men from the truck were being held, in separate rooms. The detectives started the questioning process. Naturally each of the guys proceeded to deny everything. The detectives started the process of inventorying each item that was consficated: weighing the weed, identifying the misc. pills, sorting, counting, photographing the $1500 in cash one of the guys had, logging it all into evidence.

I left the building at 12:30, still smelling like a pot-head, and their job/shift was only half over. So you can imagine all the things that particular adventure makes me thankful for. Stuff it never occurred to me to do, like shoot people, sell illegal drugs, hang out with suspects, stay up all night being interrogated all the while expecting to be locked up when the questioning is over. Plus thankful for my dull, mundane, ho-hum, routine, law-abiding life.

law enforcement ride along, part 2

2011-11-02T06:03:00.000-07:00

I went to another 'ride along' as part of the Citizens' Law Enforcement Classes I have been participating in since back in early September. The classes meet each Thursday night, most have been at the Public Safety Complex, but some in other places, like the Training/Firing Range for the CPD or the Sherriff's office in the Government Center. A couple of weeks ago, on a weekend, I was signed up to go to Public Safety and observe the activities of the staff of the 911 Center. Their facility is underground in the lowest level of Public Safety building, where it was moved into, after this new building was completed about ten years ago. Previously housed below the Government Center, they now actually have a removable floor, so new wiring for all the technology can be added as needed. Needless to say: lots of computers, and multiple screens everywhere.

Each responder was sitting in front of four screens at eye level, and one large one hanging from the ceiling tiles above head level. I think there were six or seven people there with headphones on answering calls from citizens, plus a shift supervisor. When a phone call would come in, the map on the overhead screen would show the precise location of where the call originated: I guess this is what the 'enhanced' 911 is all about - pinpointing a location for quicker response. (Big Brother is truly watching - giving us all the google eye even when you think you are safe hiding under the bed)

It seemed like it was a fairly 'slow' night,with mostly routine events, like fender benders and traffic stops.The most interesting call I overheard when they plugged me into the sound system with a hearing device was from someone who was reporting her husband had brought home an elderly woman he found lying in the street. It turns out she was intoxicated, and had left a residential facility for the disabled, located a number of blocks away in the downtown area. I think an officer retrieved and returned her, but I suspect she probably had a history of problematic behavior and the shelter management was not happy to see her stagger in. Various and sundry other events that would naturally have a huge impact on the people who were at the scene, but overall for the few hours I spent as an observer, probably just routine calls for the staff to direct response from peace officers out patrolling on the street.

Once again, it made me so thankful for my dull, uneventful, life - one where I do not think I have ever had occasion to dial 911 to report a mishap of a personal nature. Funny that I never thought of ''law-abiding" as a blessing, but putting it in the perspective of ones who go to work everyday expecting to hear from, see, interact on a daily basis and lock up those in the community who won't or don't live within the bounds of legality - I am thankful to be living on the mundane, low-key end of the spectrum.

Master Gardening workshop

2011-10-25T05:13:00.000-07:00

I found myself with time on my hands over this past weekend, a couple of days without commitments or obligations. So when the county agent here was sending out a call for gardeners to attend the semi-annual meeting of the state's master gardening group (with the added incentive of the extension service paying the $75 registration fee) I agreed to go to Macon for the day. There were others going, so I had hopes of finding someone to carpool with - but that did not pan out for me. I got up early Saturday morning and took myself to Macon for the day. I had a great time - even including the part about knowing no one when I got there.

I really don't mind driving, traveling alone - and get some great pondering done when I am on the road, having time to listen to public radio, talking books or even talk to myself. So the trip over (about 90 miles) was pleasant and uneventful. There were some really interesting speakers, mostly local people who are very knowledgeable about native plants, ecology, environment, plant health, etc. A number of vendors selling plants and gardening related items created some really bad plant lust. I accidently bought several small ferns to put out in a constantly shady place I have been adding ferns and hydrangeas too since back in the spring. And won a pretty spikey, pink-blooming pereninal prize for being in the right place a the right time (a result of coming in late and having to sit on the back row in a dark room - after all these years, finally a benefit for lateness!)

When it was over and I was oh-so-very well informed, I went on up to Decatur to spend the night, having rationalized that it was closer to go there than drive the 90 minutes back to Columbus. (Of course, I did have to then get up and drive the two hours back to Columbus on Sunday to get to church on time -nearly!)

a trip to MS... but not me!

2011-10-25T04:59:00.000-07:00

Paul went to Biloxi over the weekend: the usual reason. When I encouraged him to go several weeks ago, he was 'invited' to come back and participate in a Tournament. What a sad, sorry, rotten way to lure people into leaving their $$$ in Mississippi. They knew he would agree, and be very flattered to be invited as one of the special people who is such a valued Customer they knew he would be a real asset to their event. And, as expected, he had already put the dates down on his calendar before he got back across the Alabama line to report he was so special they had requested the pleasure of his company this past weekend.

When he came in, looking a little sheepish: he handed me a little boxed gift of mixed nuts and snack mix. And reported that he had brought it just for me (so I know the temptation to open and snack on it had really been strong, and difficult to overcome - but it was delivered with the cellophane and tidy little ribbon, with 'Palace' sticker intact). He said the gift had been provided to welcome the people participating in the card tournament. I said that was really nice and I was sure he would enjoy eating the assorted nuts and wasabi peas - but warned him about what wasabi means.

He said: Oh, no - I brought this for you. I asked how much it cost, and he reminded me it was a gift from the casino. I asked again how much the little box of goodies, probably about 12 inches by 6 inches cost, and he admitted that the actual loss at the blackjack table caused the little box to be valued at $700. I did not notice an expensive diamond and gold bracelet attached - so I am telling myself: "You get what you get, and you don't complain."

He probably had $700 worth of fun.

learning about law enforcement

2011-10-08T05:18:00.000-07:00

I have been going to classes on Thursday nights since the first of September, at Public Safety to learn more about what they do and how they do it. It has been very enlightening. And a little intimidating: like the evening the group went on a tour of the city jail. Since I know I am a wee bit on the far end of the Claustrophobia scale, I was anxious for a week in advance, when I was reminded that the next class meeting would be going behind bars. My husband apparently got a lot of pleasure from telling people I would be going to Jail. Not so funny. Saw the intake area, solitary confinement areas, hospital/medical facility, kitchen, dorms and exercise space for males and females. And went into this control room with darkened windows where we were surrounded by the unhappy incarcerated. Lots of animosity floating in the air, and contentiousness oozing along the floor. Even those thick shatterproof windows did not make me feel comfortable. .Knowing I was safe, surrounded by peace officers, did not quell the uneasy feeling of knowing I was breathing the air that those angry, hostile, mean-spirited men had been breathing.

We started off early last month with people at administration level coming in to talk about what they do, and have worked our way through traffic enforcement, juveniles, homicide (too graphic for me to stay in the room when he started the power point), fingerprinting, fraud/counterfeiting, sexual predators, fire-arms training, SWAT team and much more.

Last night I went on a 'ride along' with a patrol officer. I am very grateful that it was what she kept referring to as a 'slow night'. I was there, (sitting in the front seat- not in the cage!) when she had a couple of traffic stops. And thankful that was not me who would be going to court and having to explain why that red light was so blatantly run, or I was moseying down the street with no headlights on. And have to fork over the $$$ to pay the fine when the judge looked profoundly bored hearing the same excuses again and whacked her gavel down. Also feeling blessed to not live in a 'mobile home estates' compound where the streets twist and turn and double-back and dead-end so much that I felt like I was wandering through a maze in the dark. And basically just thankful for my life, home, stable environment with no need to be dialing 911 with problems.

I doubt the purpose of the experience, being out there on the Front Lines with the men and women who have sworn to protect and uphold, was not designed to give the class attendees a sense of appreciation for being moral, upstanding, model citizens. And pretty sure that exposing us to the mechanics of law enforcement will hopefully give a better understanding and sympathy for the officers who so willingly put their lives on the line every day. But a by-product of my experience thus far is profound gratitude. I had no idea leading my hum-drum life could be viewed as gratifying: not being a law-breaker never looked so good. All those decision not made really seem much more appealing.So now I am wondering who I should approach to seek forgiveness for all that teenage belligerance and underage drinking, falsifying documents back when licenses were written out by hand, and printed on cardstock.

In the course of the 16 weeks, we have the opportunity to 'ride along' with patrol officers who drive a 'beat'; spend four hours observing in the 911 room; a night with detectives; and another ride along with the Sheriff's deputies as they are crusing the by-ways of Muscogee County. My stint last night was with a patrol officer who was assigned the south side of town, in areas with low income housing, lots of bars/clubs where there is usually plenty of activity - but apparently a lot more when it is a pay weekend, with disposable income in every pocket. She also surmised people who usually misbehave ('suspicious activity') might be trying diligently to walk the straight and narrow so they would not spend the weekend under the jail when there is a greatly anticipated football game being played at Memorial Stadium here today. Morehouse vs Tuskeegee. It would be worth being 'haved just to see the fantastic half-time show.

taking good health for granted?

2011-09-30T18:36:00.000-07:00

My daughter came down from Decatur one day this week to visit. She drove down for the express purpose of going to sign up at a Marrow Registry drive. After hearing about this event a couple of weeks ago, she said she had been wanting to do this, desiring to get her information in the national system in hopes of providing a match for someone who needs a donation of bone marrow. So she came down on Wednesday, and went through the (completely painless) process of registering as a donor. Amazing. Gratifying. Sweet. My girl.

It was even more impressive than those of us who routinely donate a pint of blood every two months to the Red Cross. I don't know how many people they recruited for the program over the two day drive, but when we went in mid-afternoon on the second day, the number was over 550. That's fantastic.You don't really need it- and it can make such a huge impact in someone else's life... You'll keep making more, and what you so obliviously continue to generate (all the while taking good health for granted) can literally Save a Life.

how was your Saturday?

2011-09-30T18:23:00.000-07:00

I spent the morning running around town trying to find fresh flowers for friend who is getting married tomorrow. I called all over, asking for different flowers, and made several stops to accumulate everything I needed.Came home to put everything in water...

Then I went back to town to have lunch with a friend. Remarkably spry and full of zip for 84 years old, she is a member of the church my family attended for years, and keeps me informed about Presby. news. We went to get a sandwich and were sitting talking, when we overheard a woman near us providing severe admonishment to two young boys. They were just amusing themselves and each other, but not behaving a manner she felt appropriate. We both commented/complimented her as they were leaving: saying most little people are rarely disciplined, and seem to have no one in their lives who will enforce rules until they develop self control, learn to manage impulsive behavior.

We started talking about a person we know casually, and I commented that I see her regularly enough to feel like this individual never has anything positive to say, seems to be a chronic complainer, does not have the ability to look for the good in life. Sad that some people are so blessed and do not seem to know it. Got to talking about someone else, and my response was they just do not have it in their make-up to appreciate life. Living in America, with men and women in foreign lands to insure they will still have the opportunity to gripe and complain. And unwilling/incapable of getting up every morning and being thankful for breath, clean air to breathe, sunshine, blue sky, freedoms no one else in the world enjoys.

Spent the afternoon working on wedding flowers: boutenniers, corsages, nosegays, bridal bouquet, two large church arrangements. Those cut arrangments are so big it took two trips to get them to church, but look so small in the sactuary, they nearly disappear. I am mostly done, just need to go to HobLob. tomorrow to get ribbon to wrap the stems of the bouquets. Spent hours sitting out on the screened-porch listening to birds, talking to the black cat who was very chatty, enjoying a pleasant day, living a good life. Hope she likes her flowers!

a turtle story....

2011-09-30T17:59:00.000-07:00

When my daughters were small, and we would be traveling along a highway, I would occasionally spot a turtle meandering across the road. Much to their mortification and amusement, I invariably pulled over, backed up and stopped to give the slow-moving reptile an assist. Occasionally putting it in the floor of the car to bring home and release in the wooded area behind our house that slopes down a steep incline to a small creek. Setting it free in what I hoped was a safer environment where it could live for a hunderd years and enjoy making many generations of hard-shelled grand-turtles.

I was on my way home from errands this morning, and saw a turtle with a shell about the diameter of a salad plate crossing the four lane a couple of miles from the house. So: guess what I did? Yes! The Turtle Rescue Squad rides again!!! Made a U-turn, went back and jumped out in traffic to get the turtle (who acted like he really did not want/need me intervening in his plans), and put it in a box to bring home. He had remarkably long claws, and nearly got dropped when he put all four legs out and started 'swimming' in the air when I picked him up to turn him loose in the back yard. I was quite startled, and I am sure he was as well.

Then I remembered how my dad used to find turtles muddling around in his back yard, scooting through the flower beds, trundling across the expanse of lawn at the speed of practically nothing. He would go in his workshop and find a can of spray paint and squirt a small dot of color on the shell, so the turtle would be easier to spot in the future, plus he would know when he saw it if it was the same one or someone new had come to visit. I don't know how many different shells he squirted a dot of paint on over the years, but I know there were quite a few, and the idea of finding on that had taken up residence greatly amused his granddaughters.

I saw one some months ago, picked it up off the road it was trying to cross and brought it home, put it down in the back yard and assume it bulldozed under the chain link fence and made an escape into the wilds of eastern Muscogee County. It was only about the size of a small cereal bowl, and what used to be called a Box turtle, last seen wearing (a turtleneck? ha!) a brown shell with mottle yellow markings: tortise-shell colored, of course... Completely vanished, obviously having changing his attire (like the turtle in the BC comic strip when he takes his shell off) to make a clean getaway, but hopefully still alive and well, living someplace under an assumed identity in the Bull Creek watershed.

After this guy startled me so badly, extending all four legs with long claws plowing through the air, I quickly put him down on the driveway. And yes, I did get a can of paint and spray three little white dots on his black, ancient-looking carapacel. He was hunkered down, trying to look invisible, immobile, inside the fence when I left at noon, and completely vanished when I returned an hour later - but I will definitely know it's him if/when he reappears. Yea! Turtle Rescue Squad!

in support of research...

2011-09-21T05:31:00.000-07:00

If you know me, you know that my mom died a couple of years ago, after a long slow decline into dementia. She was such a bright, lively, active, interesting person for so many years, and as with all our loved ones who slowly loose themselves, it was difficult to observe. It is frustrating, aggravating and misery-inducing to be so helpless as you watch it happening - something that I frequently, distressingly compared to sitting on a run-away train, with nothing to do but wring your hands, fretting your life away: knowing full well you should be doing Something, but having not the slightest idea of what that Something should be...

Her dad, my grandfather, died in a nursing home, with dementia-like symptoms, even though at the time, 'dementia' was not a specific diagnosis. I think the term back then was 'hardening of the arteries'. Research has progressed some, if you want to think that being able to put a label on it is progress. But there is so much more that needs to be done:

Which is why I am walking. The local Memory Walk for Alzheimer's Disease is in late October. There is an office here, part of the national association. Like lots of other events, there will be teams who are asking for donations, seeking sponsors to help with the fundraising to aid research and find the cause, that would then provide means of a cure.

I'll be walking with the team from St. Luke United Methodist Church. This is the group that operates the Respite Program my mom attended for several years while she was living here. They still talk about her, remembering her amusing self, with a great sense of humor, even when she was sinking into the 'forgetting disease'. If you would like to send a donation, it would be most appreciated, and will go directlly to the Alzheimer's Association. They will send you a letter to use for tax purposes.

If you are able to support this effort, please send your check to
Alzheimer's Association, GA Chapter,
in care of: Carol Boers, Respite Ministry at St. Luke UMC
P O Box 867,
Columbus, GA 31901

I thank you in advance for your support. If you are interested in taking action, we will be 'walking the walk' on Oct. 29, at 8:30 a.m., in the 1100 block of Broadway in Uptown Columbus. A donation gets you a shirt with lots of cheezy advertising on the back. I'll be wearing mine: Hope to see you there?

counting other people's blessings...

2011-09-20T18:12:00.000-07:00

A family friend is buying a house. She is a recent graduate from pharmacy school, started working in a great job less than two years ago. Actually having the house built, so she gets to pick and choose, and have it done just the way she wants.This is All Absolutely Amazing to me. I am so excited for her, and delighted to know that she is doing so well in her career, and life, putting down roots and getting established, making her way in the world, and in the community of her choosing.

But what really strikes me as remarkable is that she is a She.

I think about the fact that forty years ago, women did not routinely own property, make major purchases like homes (or even minor ones like appliances without consulting the man who would be doing the paying) or have the opportunity to be out in the community holding responsible positions of authority.
And eighty years ago, women were second class, not fully 'citizens', ornaments in men's lives, decorative additions that were sometimes respected, often inconveient, frequently thought of as brainless and inconsequential, regularly considered incapable of making informed decisions.
And a hundred years ago, women did not have the right to vote at the polls, not capable of making intelligent choices about politics and leaders within the community and nation

And two hundred years ago WE were the 'property'.

You can gripe all you want about the US, politics, the American system, Democracy, One Nation Under God: but you also better be counting your blessings, and thankful for all the people who gave you the right to gripe.

counting our collective blessings...

2011-09-20T17:51:00.000-07:00

"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it." ~William Arthur Ward

I've been thinking about this all day, and need to say it. We have absolutely no idea how much we have to be thankful for, and no concept of what people have done to provide us with the benefits and freedoms we so casually accept and think we have some sort of entitlement, that these choices we so routinely make are our 'due' .

Only due to living in America. Somebody, or thousands of somebodies, at great cost and over many years put effort into making our choices routine, easily accepted, casually received, commonly taken for granted.

I have no qualms about flag waving, and would readily agree to blood test that showed mine is red.white and blue. I am so thankful that I am who I am, and live where I live. Thankful for all the people who made it possible.

another thing to be thankful for...

2011-09-19T18:34:00.000-07:00

I just read a note that I got in the mail today from a family friend who is having a very difficult time right now. She has a history of problematic emotions. Her familly are such good, loving, caring people, and I am sure they have always been, and continue to be compassionate and supportive as she struggles with finding herself and her place in the world. I think it would be a painful thing to think that you are just not able to walk out the door and face the busy-ness of the world each day, giving you even more doubts and feelings of being out of sync with everyone who seems so capable and confident.

I know it is a heart wrenching experience for her family, wanting so badly for her to feel strong and healthy, desiring, as I know she must, that she have the skills to live independently and be able to function out there with everyone on the streets.

My spirit aches for her and her family as I know they have all been attempting to find solutions to this for years, searching for answers, travelling farther and farther afield to find that person who assist in bringing about wholeness and health. It is so sad that all the resources they have approached over the years have not been that Answer, as they continually deal with half-way solutions that only seem to reveal different problems.

But this also makes me count my blessings: grateful for health, and healthy family.

Even though I know we all have some little skeltons in rattling around in our closets, or tucked away in the attic, and every last one of us has some little odd personality quirks that other people look at and say: "hmmm, how strange...."

What were you doing on 9-11-01?

2011-09-11T14:14:00.000-07:00

I was at work at Publix. And like the rest of the nation, spent the next several days mesmerized by television. But have not been watching TV at all today, partially because I don't care to be mesmerized/not willing to devote my time to TV, and partially because I have been working at Publix.

If you have been watching all the anniversary events, I am sure you are really morose, as all that memorailzing would make anyone sad. Or maybe just give you an opportunity to be ferociously angry all over again.

But I will definitely Not Forget.

Do you know about the Skillet Festival?

2011-09-08T05:50:00.000-07:00

Quitman GA is having a Skillet Festival. If you want to know more, you have to look it up on the internet.

I am going. Hope to see you there.

The sponsors hope to see hundreds of people there, bringing pockets full of cash to spend in beautiful downtown Quitman, Brooks County, GA.

I have started doing some papier mache, after a Very Long Time of not doing it. And discover/am reminded why I always did my crafting on the back porch. It is so messy, with glue and paint, that instructions should come with a disclaimer: always do this someplace you can hose down afterwards. I have decided that it is strictly an outdoor activity: like watermelon eating, (or robbing the beehives of their honey) so you can just drag the garden hose in and clean up when you are done. Have you ever thought of how nice it would be to have a waterproof house, with drains in the center of every room, when it is time to clean up?

I am making frames to take to the Skillet Fest., where I will be a vendor. I am a little anxious about this, but think it should be entertaining, even if I don't make a profit. I will also take the papier mache to the crafts fair we are having a church here in mid-October. You might get papier mache frames for Christmas....

riding in the golf carts

2011-09-08T05:33:00.000-07:00

First of all, I need to apologize to my Golfcart-riding-buddies. Sorry you did not get to go along.

There was a week of unusual events planned for Columbus that was in support of the visually impaired. A local eating establishment has been sponsoring the Midnight Express, a 5K run, for many years, with all the funds going toward providing assistance for the blind. There have been a number of sight-impaired runners over the years - in the past connected to sighted runners by a short piece of cord, or possibly shoe-string. This year I saw a number, toward the end/slower crowd (where the Older People were!) who were using white canes, accompanied by other walkers. Since it is done at midnight, (always on the last Saturday in August) those without vision are not as much at a disadvantage as they would otherwise be.

The highest number I saw pinned on the shirt of a runner was 2487, so I guess there were over 2500 entrys in the event. At $20 a pop for registration, if all the funds go toward charity (wonder if they have set up a non-profit?) that is a great gift to the community. And I think they have been doing the Run for over thirty years, with it growing steadily.

I've been walking it for years, with daughters, who probably thought it was a big thrill to be out and about in the forbidden wee-hours. And the past couple of years with a friend who often gets roped into things. The sad truth is that the three mile walk takes right at an hour. But I always finish. Even though I have not been doing my usual two or three miles daily in this awful heat, it was still right at sixty minutes from start to finish.
Which is consistent with what I was doing years ago, so I am pleased to a) finish with the energy left to get back home and into bed, and b) maintain about the same time/pace as 15 or more years ago.

The sponsor, local BBQ eatery, planned other events during the week: a 'blind softball game'( using a ball that beeps - and having the team of sighted players wear blindfolds), and a golf tournament that is for the poorly or non-sighted. I was a volunteer scorekeeper for one day of the two day event with golfers. Some were men who were born without sight, others had experienced playing golf in younger years before loosing sight, and others with very poor vision/partially sighted. They were from all over the world: Australia, Europe, Hawaii, various US states and travel as part of a worldwide organization that sponsors these tournaments, similar to the PGA, but for visiually handicapped. Every golfer has a 'coach' that can travel with him, and coach him through the game, giving guidance, advice, searching for lost balls. About fifty golfers, playing over a two day event, plus a practice day earlier in the week.

good night, all...

2011-08-21T15:42:00.000-07:00

I am taking my sleeping bag and toothbrush to spend the night at church.
I will get my reward in heaven, and also at the gathering that will include food when we all get Tshirts that are printed with the VIP slogan: God Blesses Me When I Sleep in Church. VIP is a local ministry that is part of a nationwide program designed to keep families together. There are apparently no other local resources for people that will allow families to stay intact. We are carefully instructed to not call these people 'homeless', but they are in pretty dire straights.
Just wanted to give you an opportunity to count your blessings.

Here's another: aren't you thankful that you do not have to go out in the fields and pick baby spinach leaves every day for your livlihood?
I have to be at Publix at 7:00 a.m.,on Monday, where I will be making salads and thankful that I am not the one who is out there in the hotness, bugginess, dirtyness picking the greens.

quick little road trip to SC

2011-08-07T12:42:00.000-07:00

Went to South Carolina last week to visit my pen pal in Greenville. I met him when he called in 2004, looking for my dad. He spoke to my mom, who thought he was looking for my brother, so I got on the telephone and came to understand he was actually trying to locate his former commanding officer. Homer Bryant is part of a group of veterans from the Greenvile area planning to attend the dedication of the World War II Memorial in Washington in the spring of 2004. He called to invite his former CO to go on the trip. Mr. Homer was in the Army with Capt. Fluker when they were training at Camp Blanding FL, and Camp Robinson, AK. Cpl. Bryant continued to serve with him as a clerk in Co K, 263 Rgt,. when they were shipped to Europe. They were part of the 66th Division, shipped out of NY in Dec. 1944 and stationed in France during the closing months of the war.

I will always regret that I did not ask my dad to tell me about his military service, and get more information about the time he was on active duty. Most of what I know has come from the memory of Mr. Homer, who has been very helpful in providing information about their shared experiences. It has been such joy to have the opportunity to visit and spend time talking with him to learn more about personal experiences he had with my dad during those years. In the process of writing a biography, I have documented several memorable ancedotes the these two men shared those many years ago.

I cherish the second hand memories, and the precious friendship I have developed with this man in recent years.

Mr. Homer has recently admitted his wife of over sixty years into a nursing facility. She had begun forgetting, frequently loosing her balance, had a number of falls in their home, and was ultimately diagnosed with dementia. It is so sad to think about how lonesome he must be, trying to do everything she did all those years when they shared a home and life together. I know it must be heart-wrenching to be alone, and miss her - even when he is with her (he goes to visit every day) she is not really there.

multiple kitty excursions

2011-07-31T17:17:00.000-07:00

I took most of the cats to the vet on Saturday morning, for their annual visit. I am reminded of my mom taking me to the health department for yearly immunizations, and clearly remember that the big, heavy glass door at the entrance of the building opened 'in' so that a small child could not get a running start, give it a good hard push and escape. I would like to think that the Fire Marshall would not let that pass inspection now, and that little people today stand a better chance of avoiding that Trial by Needle than I ever did.

The vet we use sends out friendly little 'reminder' cards like your dentist to notify about scheduling an appointment, so I knew they were due rabies shots and tags last week. As soon as I saw the number of cars in the parking lot, I knew I should not have tried to do it on the weekend: like knowing you will stand in line for two hours if you go to the DMV for license renewal with all the others who waited until Saturday. But I had corralled one of the three, so thought I should go ahead and get the process underway.

Admittedly, I have not, after all these years, figured out a good system for getting them all from point A to point B and back again: it has always required three round trips to get it accomplished. For the first time last year, I had a pet carrier I tried to put them in, but it probably looked like a cartoom if there was anyone observing me attemtping to poke a twenty-legged cat into a small hole in the opening of the carrier: retreat/release was definitely the path I chose when all those claws came out! There must be some sort of 'cat telepathy' involved: when I do get my hands on the first one, the others some how immediately know Bad Things are occuring, and can make themselves so scarce, I think they have evacuated to Talbot County, or making a run towards Alabama - definitely left the premises.

The first one refused to go in the carrier, in spite of the advice of 'grab the scruff of the neck and do it so fast they do not have time to resist", so I just put her in the car, loose. She is the one with the world's dense-est coat: I had to get the vacuum out when I finally got her back home - and used it not only on the car seat and carpet, but myself as well. When I looked down at T-shirt when I got her back to the house, I thought: Alpaca sweater! She also left drifts and drifts of hair while I was petting and holding her in the vet's office - they are likely knitting themselves another cat with all that got left behind.

The second one, historically the most docile of the three, went in the carrier with hardly a peep, but made pitiful little weepy sounds the whole time she was cooped up. Trip number two was mostly uneventful, but I discovered when I was leaving the vets' office is only open until noon on Saturday, so I knew I could not get back with cat 3 before they closed. When I did get home, and released the pitiful little long-suffering #2, naturally number three was sitting there, as if she somehow knew she was safe and would not be going for her annual drive to the doctor.... I told her it was a good thing the vet was closed for the weekend - but honestly, I think she somehow knew... She was the one I had caught first and tried to put in the carrier but turned loose before she shredded me with her claws.

The ornery one, Miss 'Most Likely to Create Puncture Wounds' will have to go on Monday - but I suspect she will become mysteriously very scarce when I go out in the morning: How do they know?

In Memory Of...

2011-07-19T06:16:00.000-07:00

Anytime someone dies,especially in a sudden and unexpected manner, they leave behind people who are sad, and strugglling with having a hole in their lives. I went to another funeral last week, for a man who unintentionally left behind some people he would have wanted to provide for, but did not.

But I do know how much he liked the people who were connected to him, and how willing he was to devote his time, attention and resources to them. As well as how much he enjoyed a gathering of friends and family: he was the kind of guy who never met a stranger, who loved to laugh, hug, tell bad jokes. The man Enjoyed Life. (Some folks don't: always complaining, with a 'woe is me' attitude - but not S.) It has been heartwrenching for the ones he left behind who truly mourn, and the distressing addition of financial worries is not something he would have wanted those he cared most about to face in their grief.

Even before his untimely, death I knew I should be getting my Life In Order, and had begun the process of organizing, to list all personal matters/desires. I have never actually owned anything, to have any reason for a Will, that would express preferences of what to do with an estate. I just never felt the necessity before... and I guess that is a common, (mis)belief: that your family can read your deceased mind, and would tend to your business in the manner you would choose. Now that we all see that in print, it is pretty clear that kind of thinking is a major fallacy and would likely lead to a seriously contentious trip to court, where only the attorneys truly benefit.

I am going to make copies of the Do It Yourself 'Last Will and Testament' Kit, with complete instuctions for both my favorite descendents. For them to use or line the canary cage with. But I will complete mine, and put it with all the financial info., and personal-preference data they will need to know. If you want a copy, let me know. It is completely self-explanatory, easy to do, and only needs two signatures plus a notary (readily available at any financial/banking establishment or insurance office, for no charge). If you own anything and have a preference that includes the state not getting a percentage of your estate, you should be completeing a will.

A life well lived: reminding us that we leave a legacy after we are gone. He continues to live in the hearts of those he befriended, and was well-loved by all who knew him.

Does it even count???

2011-07-17T04:56:00.000-07:00

There was this completely unlikely, largely unexplainable, thoroughly confusing, partially unresolved business that occured with my bank last week that has me still baffled. I readily admit to being mildly paranoid (not nearly as badly as Mel Gibson in that movie with Julia Roberts when his was legitimate), which I think in small doses can be helpful/good for self-defense. But never unnerved to the point that I felt it necessary to pay for services on financial services to keep my banking information protected from prying eyes.

So looking back on the events of early last week, I now ponder if I should be more aware/on the defensive than I thought necessary? Was I foolish in: assuming that the security features banks and credit suppliers have for their protecting their own business would also be sufficient to protect The Customer (me)?

For reasons unrelated to the untimely death of a friend who left his estate in sad disarray, I started last weekend to think I need to Get My House In Order. So I was sitting with assorted semi-organized paperwork, putting down everything on paper to help make sense of the jumble for grieving family (Not to Worry: I do not expect it to be used for many years). Just thinking about my dad and what a meticulous guy he was with his financial/personal business, and using his listing of Everything You Need to Know as the model for helping the lost and lonely when they will Need to Know Everything.

As I was listing banking account numbers/contact information, I realized I had not received a bank statement for months. To those who bank on-line this would not be a problem - but I am not yet convinced to go that route. Due to residual Right Brained in a Left Brained World problems: I have always struggled with mathematical business, and need the process of pencil, calculator, check register, printed statement to feel satisfied with the balance. So I called the 1-800-customer service number and talked at length to Francisco. He asked me lots of questions to determine that I was actually the owner of the account - dutifully documenting information about my mother, childhood pets, school attendance record. And remarked that I had changed my address. I was astounded: mostly due to having been in the same location for nearly thirty (30!) years. He assured me that I had requested the change, but would not tell me where I now reside because that is Confidential customer information.

I wondered to him if I needed to talk to their fraud people, but he seemed to think nothing had occured. Someone went into their system, changed my address to receive my monthly statements - but nothing had occured? Bull-loney. It all started with me calling to ask for copies of the missing statements, and ended with me closing the account. But, when I did go to the bank and get copies of the statement (that I demanded the bank supply - and not bill me for cost -since it was their 'bad' that sent several to a bogus address.) everything seemed in order. After diligent application of pencil and calculator it appeared that nothing out of the ordinary had occured... so I am not sure I legitimately qualify (like the little boy who was left out alone on the hillside to guard the flock and cried 'WOLF' - just for the comfort of a friendly face...) as having been taken advantage of?

I did go to the local branch, explained my story to a very helpful csutomer service rep.(thanks, Wanda), who talked to someone in tech support to find that my 'new' address is a street in Naples, FL since back in April. It was changed by someone in Charlotte, NC, and the local CSR was hoping the person in NC could provide an explanation, as that was not something that could be done by telephone (which I most definitely did with the 1-800 guy: so I am left to wonder: how did it happen before?). She put in a call to that individual, who is required to document any changes in customer information, but the culprint in Charlotte did not respond.

The saga continues: I called the branch manager the following day, who was remarkably lackadasical, generally unconcerned, mostly indifferent to my worries, when I had expected a response. She had a sort of don't-call-us - we'll-call-you attitude. I wish I had said: "if this was your personal account would you be so complacent?" But I was still so anxious about all the unknowns, I went to the branch and talked to another very friendly customer service person, (thanks, Jose) who agreed I should just close the account. My helpful CSR will be back at work on Monday...

memorial to Jo....

2011-07-08T19:47:00.000-07:00

My friend and co-worker Martin lost his mother last weekend. She died on her birthday. She had been in poor health for a couple of months and in hospice for most of that time. It has been so sad, and heartache-y as he and family have watched her slowly decline, just watching and waiting and waiting and waiting....

But the sweet, amazing, remarkable part has been the outpouring of love and caring that customers have demonstrated in the past week as I have been working in his stead. It has been so precious to hear total strangers, the most casual of acquaintances, people I can't even name - ask about him and his family. I feel like I have received a blessing by proxy as I have listened to people I have never even seen or spoken to before as they inquire about his mom.

A most unusual man: one who talks about his emotions, expresses his feelings to freely, and is so open and willing to talk about matters that matter. Having been raised in a family that was not able/willing to have the discussions about those things that are close to the heart, I have been astounded to hear people I've never said more than 'good morning' to tell me about a man who is so open-hearted they have hd that family in their prayers. Martin and Jo, along with his sister Nancy, spent time in recent weeks, talking about all the things most families scrupulously avoid discussing until it is too late for asking and answering. listening and sharing, finally getting to the point of knowing that nothing has been left unresolved. What a blessing to be able to let go with complete peace.

The older I get the more I believe that the reason most of us turn into decent, fully (or semi-) functioing human beings is due to the influence of our parents and grandparents. The character. morals, beliefs of the generations of family who raised us are the primary reason we become who we are... So I guess this is a testimonial to Jo. Though I did not know her, she obviously did a great job of raising a pair of amazing adults, and is looking down on them, singing and dancing with the heavely host, whole, healthy, happy, laughing, joy-filled forever.

to east GA and back in 36 hours...

2011-06-27T04:01:00.000-07:00

There was a family gathering near Augusta over the weekend. I have been to several, and forced my daughters to attend a time or two many years ago. I believe they were under great duress,while being bored beyond belief and felt like they were there at 'gun-point'! I'm pretty sure they were rolling their eyes, thinking 'oh, Mom...' the whole time - but at least they know where one-fourth of their forebears originated. They have travelled enough with me to not be surprised when we wander through cemeteries - occasionally even though we do not know anyone who might have found it their eternal resting place.

I got up early Saturday morning, heading north to Decatur, then due east, with my toothbrush and sleeping bag, semi-prepared to sleep on a picnic table in the campground at Mistletoe State Park. But as it turned out, threw myself on the kindness of a cousin, and mercifully not suffering mosquitos all night, or suffocating from heat/humidity of a sleeping bag zipped over my head. Thank you, Louisa : -)

So... I have been to visit the long-departed Smiths and Flukers in the Smith Family Cemetery overlooking Clarks Hill Lake. The 'old homeplace' is underwater, due to the Corps of Engineers dam built to contain the resevoir from the Savannah and Little Rivers, but the cemetery sits on a little rise, tidily surrounded by iron fenceing, in a clearing usually only accessible by boat. The cemetary is surrounded by undeveloped forest, as is most of the land abuting the lake, much 'manged' by the state/Corps for wildlife protection. A cousin went out last week and cleared the way of numerous fallen trees to make the rarely used dirt track accessible for the two miles from the nearest paved road. He occasionally goes out to pick up beer cans and refuse left by boaters who apparently find the family cenetery a perfect spot to party and build campfires, up on the pretty little hill overlooking the slough on a lake that has a longer shoreline than the state boundaries of Georgia.

Local relatives brought pop-up canopies, chairs, a huge picnic from Subway with sandwiches and coolers full of iced drinks. It was a beatuiful, nearly bug-free day, with kids plunking rocks in the lake, stomping around the rocky edge f the lake, in the water dragging up small pieces of rusty metal: wondering what the original purpose was, and wishing the jetsam could talk to share history of hands who had done the shaping, hard labor that had produced tools to support families. Cousins reminiscing, telling stories passed down from their parents about grandparents lives, work, families. Walking around in the little fenced cenetary, listening to people who have spent their entire lives putting down deep roots in Wilkes and McDuffie counties tell stories about the elders/those people who make me who I am, that I never knew.

Someone pondered why young people do not attend, and I surmise it is because you have to get to be 'of a certain age' before you can fully appreciate the treasure of family- young adults are raising kids, involved in activities who are not easily extracted for a weekend to travel for such gatherings. People who have the time and resources to travel are nore likely to also be of the age to want to be connected, willing to devote themselves to making the effort to associate with distant, lesser-known relatives. I have gotten to the place in time as I look back over my shoulder, and wish I had made that effort years ago when my parents were the ones who were going to east GA to meet with family. And lately (hopefully not too late?) realizing what a treasure/joy it is to meet, see, renew acquaintances with those folks of my heritage.

a 'little' local wild life phenomena

2011-06-24T04:46:00.000-07:00

We were sitting at the table one Sunday seveal weeks ago, having lunch after church, when I looked out the window across the screened porch to see a young, spotted fawn walk across our yard. Probably within ten feet of the house. Amazing. Not at all unlikely, since our lot is very wooded, and backs up to an even greater area/acreage that is densely wooded. And we have seen deer close to the house before. Actually had to call animal control once years ago when we found a dead deer out on the edge of the lawn that had apparently been hit by a vehicle the night before.

I decided the fawn (and all the wildlife) must be desperate for water, so went out with a container that I have been keeping full of water, placed near the edge of the woods. I have not seen any activity, other than the curious cats drinking, but hope that someone is enjoying it. I go out every couple of days and replace with clean, fresh water when I drag the hose around to try to keep a few plants alive, but not the grass: which recovered remarkably after a recent thunderstorm: it was blue-ish colored from drought-stress ealier this week, and now needs mowing!

We have had a couple of good rains in the past couple of days, but many have not... it being severely dry in areas where agriculture is prevelant. I saw lots of fields of stunted, deyhdrated, desperate crops when I drove to south GA. And know there are so many families out there whose livlihood depends on crops, and the whims of nature - which, now that I think of it: we All 'depend' on those people who are dependent on farming for livlihoods. So we should all be praying for rain.

traveling Toyota

2011-06-24T04:32:00.000-07:00

U will think I am crazy.

I have been to south GA this week for a quick overnight trip.
Plus worked two days at my little jobette.
And planning to go to east GA, near SC line on Saturday for a family gathering.

U will be envious and possibly annoyed.

When I stopped for gas before I left town on Wed. morning, it was $3.37/gallon.
I set the cruise control, and generally get over 45 mpg on the road.
If I was consitently conservative speed-wise, I would get nearly 50 mpg. (but who's conservative?)

pray for rain...

2011-06-24T04:17:00.000-07:00

Just talked to Paula last night, who said her husband is going to eastern NC near Wilmington for two weeks to fight wildfires. This is what he does, as an employee of the state of TN Dept. of Agriculture, in a forest to the west of Chattanooga. I assume the fire in NC has exhausted all the qualified people closer to the location of the out-of-control problem, so the search for help to hold the line has to extended to TN. As the fire conginues to rage, they have to look farther and farther away to try to find areas who have the energy and resources to go devote twelve hour days to beating back the flames.

I am trying to take comfort (as I know both Paula and Chad will) in the fact that the people in NC want him to come driving the pumper truck he is qualifed for. Had to take training on use, and get a CDL. The only one in his group qualified for that, so he got 'volunteered'. Knowing he will be truck driving (though he has to get from western TN to eastern NC first), instead of out there on the fireline makes me hope, think, pray he will be somewhat safer than the guys out there with shovels and chainsaws.

Please keep him in your prayers.

I can't sleep, it's 3:30 a.m..... :(

2011-06-02T00:38:00.000-07:00

I took the melatonin like I do most nights, and got up for an hour or so. Made a cup of 'sleepytime' and drank that (just a little cup, so I would not have to get up in an hour when my bladder said 'it's time!', but still not sleepy. I don't want to resort to serious drugs, so guess the next step is to go to the health food store for some advice: unless you have any suggestions?

I think, for me, part of getting a good night's sleep is doing things that make me tired during the day, and get my body in the mood to need rest. So I cleaned off the porch this morning, did a bit of yard work (spraying super-dooper, industrial strengthy weed-killer on ivy) and went to the Y to swim... that should have been enough, don't you think?

Here I sit at 3:40 a.m., waiting for the tea and dugs to kick in...think I will go try to read myself to sleep...

more blessings counted...

2011-05-29T04:07:00.000-07:00

I had encounter with someone last week that caused me to pause and consider my blessings. I have mentioned something in this vein before, but after talking to a friend I had not seen in a while, I am reminded we all need to be thankful for things that never happened: in the sense of the Robert Frost poem we all had to memorize in junior high school about the 'road not taken'. It gave me a great and greater appreciation for the way my life has played out, and an awareness of things that don't happen can be of greater import along the 'path' than the things that make a noticeable, memorable impact.

The friend is someone I used to see every day when she was my supervisor at work, but I have not found the time to sit and talk with for months and months. I saw her last week, and inquired about life in general. She knew from the last time we had conversation, that she has been through some really rough spots recently. I knew she was committed to providing encouragment and comfort to a significant other who has had monunental health problems: months long hospital stay and extensive rehab. But he is fairly stable and she seems to be content.

Her daughter, (who lives with the ex-exhusband) just graduated from high school a week ago, and is planning to start tech. school to get trained in dental hygiene, called to report she is pregnant. She has already been to the dr. for her first prenatal check, and the baby-daddy did go with her. But what a long row to start at her age, with so much potential/promise out there, getting farther and farther away...

So I can feel a sharp pain in my chest, and think 'what a heartache! To think, as a Mom, that you had finally gotten the last child safely through the wailing and gnashing of high school and looking forward to seeing her start out into the world to pursue her dreams, jumping out of the nest... and now this. Wow.

I saw someone recently (connected to SF and my former life) who asked about family, just doing the two minute 'lets' update' standing in the produce department. He asked about daughters and got the happy dance as my initial response. Then the Cliff Notes summary of their lives: happy, healthy, financially independent.
What a blessing. Thank You Very Much.

ready for the rapture?

2011-05-21T14:08:00.000-07:00

I have been pondering for several days what I would most like to be doing if it is true that the world will really end in about an hour. According to some Biblical crackpot, the end is more than emminent.

So here's what I propose: meet me at the beach, and we will sit in the sand chairs, with our toes in the water, under the shade of a palm tree (I just love the sound the leaves make when the wind blows), and drink ice-y cold beer, have a tray of lime-flavored chips and chilled salsa sitting close at hand. And be ready to be sucked up out of your shoes by a giant vacuum like event. But honestly: if heaven will be even better than we can imagine: that's pretty much what we will be doing for all eternity as far as I am concerned.

If they are getting up a load - I am reaalllly looking forward to being on the train.

from sweater weather to tank tops...

2011-05-20T18:50:00.000-07:00

The people I know who were raised in Pennsylvania have this expression they apply to whatever the current weather is: "This sure is strange weather we are having". It is apparently terminology that, no matter what sort of routine or abnormal things are occuring in the atmosphere within in the bounds of the state, is applicable. No matter the meterological conditions, it is always 'strange'. I remember going up there once in the middle of summer, with kids wearing shorts, t-shirts and sandals, and having to make a bee-line for the sweatshirt store as soon as we crossed the state line and opened the door.

Not only is the weather strange, the people might be just a wee small tad as well. (plus they think a cold glass for tea is not supposed to be sweet!!! Why do they think we drink iced tea at all?)

So when I left home on Thursday morning to go to south GA, I had on a fleece jacket, since it has been so unseasonably cool all week. Then after a couple of hours of yard work, was down to a tank top. It was (to my way of thinking) a pretty productive time, though I doubt anyone else would take notice of my bushwhacking efforts... Probably partially due to the fact that my goal was primarily to get shrubbery trimmed back from being too close to the house, so yes, I guess so: nothing actually shows! But I did get a lot done, and was able to go with the attitude that the only way to tackle such a monumental task is in increments. Thanks: WS, who showed up with perfect timing with a Chain Saw... oh, wow! If I was not deathly afraid of them, I would be a modern day Paul Bunyan and go charging off into the woods, cutting a swath - but honestly do not want to even be there when it is blasting out ear-ringing decibles, churning out a rooster tail of sawdust... vewy scarey!

Did not have nearly enough time to do all the things I would have liked, but with a little assistance from hired help believe that I will eventually accomplish the goal. The problem, as I have discovered, is that yard work is like trying to get all the clothes washed when your kids are little. Especially if you are 'outnumbered': they can dirty, change, leave a trail of garments strewn along faster than you can get them washed, dried, folded and back in the drawer.

Are you familiar with the expression 'herding cats'? Well, it took me a long time to figure this one out, but I have begun to realize that when you plant stuff, (and mostly stuff you don't actually get credit for, but you just look the other way for ten years or so and let un-wanted, invasive 'volunteers' go to seed and spread, take over when you are not paying close attention), and suddenly find you have to spend the rest of your life trying to whip it into shape. Constantly trying to keep it under control, which is nutty, since the whole reason you went and paid good money for it is in the hope that I would grow and change!

I long ago decided I would not fertilize a lawn: what's the point of that??? To make more work for yourself!

the season of commencing...

2011-05-15T04:33:00.000-07:00

I spent a couple of days last week (actually just yesterday and the day before) observing a family being happy, celebrating milestones. A truly joyous occasion for all concerned. Nothing makes you smile like seeing someone else being delighted with life. Lots of happy tears, seeing freshly minted gradautes trooping down the aisle headed into a life filled with possiblities.

There are so many occasions that families come together to provide support in times of hardship and misery, the past couple of days were especially delight-filled to observe. Watching parents, siblings, cousins, miscellaneous hangers-on, assorted passers-by and lots of total strangers sharing congratualtory hugs and wishing gowned and mortarboarded young people 'Best of Luck!!' as you charge off out there into the waiting world.

The other semi-unexpected event of happy-ness was a kinda, sorta, somewhat surprise birthday party where the birthday-ee knew/expected she was to attend a party, but unware she was the 'honoree' for the event. She knew to wear party clothes, but not that everyone would be wearing little conical party hats for her benefit. So watching all the friends and family visit, renew acquaintance, meet the formerly unknown and see the anticipation of waiting the arrival of the Birthday 'Girl' was equally amusing.

A day filled with smiles and laughter, sweet remembrances of shared experiences. Nothing more delightful than having all the people you love mostest and bestest in the world gather for your benefit, then be serenaded with a sweet, happy, silly, off key song. Except maybe cupcakes (topped with edible flowers and made with a generous helping of affection) to eat, and lots of photos to remember such a day that was perfect in every way, including weather, showers of love and bouncy kids chasing balloons.

Congratulations: FAS. Happy Birthday, JFTS.

"not really interested in harp music"...???

2011-05-04T03:20:00.000-07:00

We have been enjoying, off and on, for several years, going downtown to St. Luke UMC once a month on the first Tuesday to have lunch and enjoy some sort of musical 'recital'. Usually someone local who sings, or plays some type instrument, occasionally a traveling troupe of gospel singers or out-of-town talent imported for the occasion. The entertainment last month (which I sadly missed) was a very gifted local young man who sings gospel music, with recorded accompinment, who happens to be blind. For May, yesterday, there was a harpist who lives in the Atlanta area. She brought along a friend who played the piano. It was quite good: you don't often encounter someone willing to put the effort into developing and maintaining such unusual skills. They both work professionally, doing contract work in the metro area.

I had asked Paul if he wanted to go, and was planning to go across town and get his sister to take for the lunch and music. So we had three reservations for the catered lunch, which is prepared by the chef and kitchen staff at St. Luke and always a good hot meal. Then we got to talking about going down there on Monday night - when I told him my 'plan' was for me to get the sister down there, and he would take her home, so I could go to the Respite Care program (across the street from the fellowship hall) and finish up the planting business I started several weeks ago. My mom attended the program for several years and I go occaionally to re-plant seasonal annuals, and keep in touch with the workers/volunteers there, who are so sweet, compassionate in their caregiving witth participants.

I had another flat of annuals and needed to get them put in pots to add color in their little 'secret garden'. Plus move some wonderfully blooming fragrantly smelling Confederate jasmine that needed to be scooted over close to a fence it ws intended to climb on for support and decoration. And a rose some noodle-head had planted in the complete shade.

But he said he thought he was not really all that much interested in harp music and that he thought he would pass on making the effort to get down there for lunch. Needless to say: that tossed a monkey wrench in my plans. So I had to leave home at 8:30 to get it all done before going out to the north side of town to pick up the sister.

It all worked out: but the questions we formulated for him when we were talking, while going down town for the luncheon: "What do you plan to do when you get to the Pearly Gates, and standing in line to have your wings and halo issued? Ask if you can go over there and get in the line where they are being given the little pre-school rhythm band instruments like triangles, tambourines, and wooden blocks to bang together? Refuse to attend the harp-playing class? Say: 'I don't need lessons'?"

'Not really interested in harp music'? That's defnitely not me! ..."When I get where I'm going , there'll be only happy tears"...
I've heard talk of people who were apparently standing behind the door when they were passing out common sense, but I cannot imagine getting up there and being recalcitrant. I am going to be so thankful just to get in the door, I will be doing the happy dance the whole time.

accidently not-so-"cheerfully unemployed"

2011-04-20T19:16:00.000-07:00

I found myself working at Publix all week. I thought I was working on Monday and not again until the weekend. I knew about Monday, as my co-worker was required/commanded to report to the Jury Pool room in the government center at eight o'clock sharp. I knew my job was to be his replacement for the day - but did not really expect that truck load of plants and bouquets from the warehouse, getting shoppers in the mood for Easter sales.

The jury selection went on for the better part of three days, but fortunatelyfinally the decision has been made: if it were me sweating out the process, I would be delighted to be sent home as 'unselected' (which he was!) I would assuredly not feel the slightest big 'rejected' by not spending the next month sitting in a courtroom trying to keep all the he-said/she-said stuff straight in my mind.

Things will get back to (relatively speaking) normal with my little part-time, somewhat, semi-employ after Sunday. But I will go on punching the time clock for the rest of this week, due to the holiday plus a prom on Saturday.

I am so out of the habit of being on my feets all day, day after day, I expect to be singing the song of the Little Engine That Could by the time the store is closed for Easter.

it was glorious...

2011-04-18T03:50:00.000-07:00

It was just as glorious as I had planned, expected, hoped and looked forward to. The tulips were beauty-full. We walked through the gardens after touring the house and having lunch in the 'stable' (nothing on the property was less than perfectly groomed, so it was not a matter of pushing the livestock out of the way to get to the trough: a tasty lunch in a remarkably 're-purposed' space, though you could easily envision a different era from all the historic photos placed throughout to help picture the past.)

I think it had been about fifteen years since we went to the Biltmore one year at Thanksgiving when the place was ostentatiously decorated for Christmas. The opulence of the era was very much on display through out the house. I think I remember hearing there are 250 rooms? Most not open to the prying eyes of the paying public, but those we saw were set as if the occupants might have just walked out...and would be back after the lawn tennis event to change into outfits for the next activity, or formal wear for dinner.

The tour of the house was pretty crowded, as it had stormed overnight, and I think we/all the tourists all had the same idea of not stomping out in the wet early in the day. But it cleared up, to a perfectly cloudless bright blue sky and was a gorgeous day, though a bit blowy for the underdressed group from GA.

There were optional additional tours (for a price) we chose to take: a wine tasting with chocolates, that was kinda let down, since I am not much for pucker-y red wines, and would have been perfectly content with the chocolate truffle part. Then a tour of the workings/'how-to' process of making wine, behind the scenes walk-through from bringing in the grapes fresh picked from the vines to the labeling of the filled bottles. There was not actual production going on when we were there, as the 'season' for grapes from Biltmore vineyards is late summer, and then they start getting in west coast grapes in the early fall. A little tidbit: they heat the corks in the microwave to make them pilable enough to squeeze in the narrow neck of the glass bottles! It was interesting and educational.

The best part was spending the day with daughters. Thanks!

road trip!

2011-04-14T06:08:00.000-07:00

I am really looking forward to spending the weekend in NC with my favorite people. We are going to Asheville to enjoy the Biltmore Gardens.

And plan to park ourselves out on the spacious dining porch of the Grove Park Inn and attempt to give the appearance of belonging in such high-falutin' circumstances. Hope we won't show up on the back page of the Asheville newspaper holding numbers, looking like suspicious characters in need of bail money.

At&T saga, Part 2...

2011-04-14T05:59:00.000-07:00

Well.... not actually part two as nothing has really occured yet, other than me being pretty annoyed. I was up by 6:00 and started watching the clock a little after 7:00 so I could dial the '1-800-aggravation' number and be the first one in line to talk to a real person. I have the theory that there is only one actual, living customer service rep. and the voice mail process is so laborious and complicated to weed out all the customers who are not persistent enough to slog through the 'do this for that' questions in order to actually get to see 'what is really behind the curtain in Oz'.

So I made the call at 8:01, and worked my way through to the part where you get the recording that says 'sorry, all our reps. are busy, but we promise to answer you soon', then got hung up/disconnected. So I started over, and the same thing happened again... listen to choices, punch the number, more recorded options, punch another number: 'sorry, all our reps. are busy, etc, etc,'. So I started over: it's now about 8:20 (and I was thinking: they have just not activated the system, everyone is lagging behind over coffee, no one is on the job even though the directory says business hours are 8:00 to 6:00)... but when I dailed the third time through the questions (that, had I been paying attention, I could have memorized by now), and actually talked to a real live, breathing customer serrvice person, she said: 'our computers are down, please call back in a couple of hours'.... arrrrgggghhh...

When I told her how many times I have attempted thus far, she suggested I call back in one hour instead of two, but could not give me a 'short-cut' number to call - so I thought I would just spread dissension amongst the ranks while I am waiting for my hour to be up so I can start over, again.

So here is my telephone rant/editorial:
When did we get to the point that we thought phones were essential to daily life? I remember growing up on a dirt road sharing a party line with another family. With parents that thought anyone calling after 9:00 at night could only be bearing bad news, and you could write a letter and use a stamp if it was not urgent. I know: I'm just 'old school' and not in touch with our me-centric and media-centric world... is that the worst thing ever?

I see people in public places having loud disruptive conversations and sharing some very personal business for all the world to hear - things I really do not want to know about, even if they are total strangers, it is 'way too much information about divorces, custody disagreements, what happened last night. Just because you have a telephone in your pocket or one that plugs into your ear does not necessairily mean that what you have to say is worthy of broadcast or the rest of the world wants/needs to hear.

I guess this is in a parallel vein with media personalities, that were nobody until someone started taking their photos, who enjoy prancing about in their underwear. When did sleeping garments become acceptable public apparel? How did underwear become acceptable outerwear? If we don't take/publish their pictures, give them a boatload of publicity, no one will see their inappropriate attire/behavior - and their fifteen minutes of fame will thankfully be over before they show up on checkout tabloids.

It's time for me to re-visit '1-800-aggravate-your-socks-off'....

where is that application I need to complete for sainthood?

2011-04-13T18:35:00.000-07:00

I have been out doing good, and practicing tolerance/selfcontrol. I was thinking to myself I have begun to develop so much patience for aggravating situations, I might need to change my name to Theresa (as in Mother!) but think maybe I should just wait till I get to the Pearly Gates and see just how many stars have already been placed in the 'standard issue' crown before I pat myself on the back. It has not be a particularly productive day, but certainly not due to lack of effort on my part.

I have a friend, someone that I know really as an acquaintance, mostly just casually, as a customer passing through the workplace. As she begins to struggle with problems associate with aging and has assorted health concerns, I gave her my phone number and told her she should call me if she needed help doing daily things like grocery shopping or getting to doctor's appointments. She has actually called me a couple of times and given her grocery list by phone, I would go to the store and deliver it to her door, where she would generously reimburse me for purchases and time. She called over the weekend and needed a ride to an appointment at the pain clinic. I did her grocery buying and took parcels over when I went to pick her up on Monday for the trip to the medical office. We sucessfully nagivated the labrynth and I returned her home.

As we were chatting, whiling away the time in the waiting room and cubicle, she talked about problems with telephone: connections, batteries, service and said that she was planning to discontinue the service on her home-based business phone. I offered to make the call for her. And had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into.

I have called AT&T five times. Two on Monday, and three today. And only had the delightful opportunity to talk to a real person once, when I called at 8:02 this morning right after they opened for business with the profoundly aggravating voice mail system. But that very pleasant CSR, located in Idaho could not help me because I could not prove I was the person with the business phone, in spite of the fact that I blatantly lied and told her I was. Without back-up evidence, CSR said I would have to call back and start over with 1-800-aggravation, as there is no 'shortcut' number to avoid the long annoying process of 'punch this if you mean that'.

Which I did this afternoon with evidence in hand, and left a number for them to call me back instead of spending 27 minutes on hold. They did not call back - which is, I guess, the way they get people to just keep paying and paying and paying because they get so irritated with voicemail choices they throw the phone out in the back yard and get billed for service regardless.

I plan to try again (with evidence in hand) in the morning at 8:01. Wish me luck?

I seem to have done it again....

2011-04-09T17:54:00.000-07:00

I was recently giving myself a little 'talking to': saying ' you need to quit burning your candle at both ends' and 'how much longer do you think you will be able to run up and down the road all the time without falling over from exhaustion?' I.... had to go get my calendar to look back over the week and try to establish what is was that kept me so busy?

Mon: with the Betts' counting boxes and bins as they came off the Mayflower (truck).
Tues: going with T.P. to two dr. appts, plus a swim at the Y.
Wed: buying/planting annuals at St. Luke UMC Respite Care and a non-credit class at Cont. Ed.
Thur: swim at Y, class on container gardening and a fish-fry/quartet concert/Bible dramatization.
Fri: to Decatur to plant a gazillion (heisted) daffodil bulbs at Eleanor Dr., lunch with family, pawnshop.
Sat: Publix 7:00 am to 3:00 pm, lasagna with Betts.

One of the reasons I have been talking to myself about the candle situation is I was so exhausted from getting up at 4:30 and driving to Decatur, spending the morning digging holes and trying to leave town before the other two million people there got on the road: came in the house and went straight to bed. I knew I needed to make the lasagna for the people to come eat for supper tonight, but was so tired I had to go lay down before I could get up and put the casserole together.

Maybe I will do better in June?

P.S.:Thanks to the solver of the (arrggghhh) problem in the blog. I've been back and edited two of the long, exhausting, strung-together narratives that did not have paragraphs.

verrry quiet here....

2011-04-05T06:31:00.000-07:00

The houseguests got (mostly) moved on Monday. The huge (over 50 feet long) moving van with their household stuff that has been stored in Dubuque since last May was waiting on the street when we got to the house about 8 a.m. My assignment was to check off all the (over 300) boxes and bins when they came off the truck. I immediately discovered I am very Thankful that I am not in the business of moving/transporting other people's stuff. I have been commenting for many years when I see folks trundling down the highway with pickup truck piled high, roped in, looking like the opening scene from the Beverly Hillbillies, with Granny tied to her rocking chair atop boxes and barrels: I am so thankful that's not me!

In addition to having 27 banker's size boxes of reference books, and a huge stack of kitchenware, the cartons and tubs took up half of the two car-size carport. And that's just stuff, not really any of their furniture, which the moving-men took in the different rooms and set up as instructed. But they seem to be pretty well settled, though I expect it will take weeks to empty all the cartons. (And already thinking they will find one box of empty plastic jugs they meant to recycle, but supposed the packers had boxed up for storage!) So It's Really Quiet here.

Before they got underway, on Sunday night, knowing they would be sleeping in their own -but 'strange' -beds on Monday night, I said that it was going to be pretty lonesome here, with virtually no converstion during the evening meal. I also discovered there is no one here to help with eating up all the left-overs (now commonly referred to as 'must-go': if you don't consume it the second go-round, it Must Go in the trash), or doing the dishes after we eat. It has been good having them around, and they leave a Lot of Silence in their wake.

The up side is that when I wake up in the wee hours with no possiblity of going back to sleep (likely due to illicit chocolate consumption before bed) I can peck away on the computer! Which I was doing at 2:00 and 4:00 and etc...

thinking I deserve a nap or two...

2011-04-02T13:45:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy week of running to and fro. Was 'invited' to go to Decatur on Wed., and replant big pots with spring/summer blooming things, though it was sad/difficult to pull out the gloriously blooming pansies that seem to have been rejuvinated after plentious rains. So I got up too early and drove up to spend the day digging. Preceeded by a little sadness when we had a small funeral in the back yard. Louise the hen is no longer a part of the harem.

On Thursday, I had plans to meet two of the WWII vets. I went to DC with, when they came up from Albany to visit the Infantry Museum. I hope they enjoyed the scenery, because I know I enjoyed spending several hours with them, seeing exhibits, a film about infantry and having lunch.

Went back to Decatur on Thursday night, when I found that Paula would be having a CT scan of of her head on Friday morning. We got up early and drove on up to TN on Fri. to go with her to the radiology clinic. I know she was anxious, because her mom was too: but it was uneventful, and she got a call before I could get home Friday night assuring her there is not a vacuum between her ears. The family practice team that has been trying to help her manage migrane headaches felt that the scan was necessary.

Good news: nothing out of the ordinary there, Bad News: still miserable with a headache that has been pecking at her brain for nearly two weeks. Should have known what to expect when driving through ATL on a Friday aft: took six hours to make the four hour drive from Chatt-nooga to Columbus.

Working at Publix today and Sunday.

all certified (or certifiable?)

2011-03-27T08:58:00.000-07:00

I found out that I was scheduled to work yesterday (Sat.) and Mon., after I signed on to go to CSU to take a free ARC CPR class to get recertified for rescuing. I hope I don't ever have an opportunity to use it: but think I am mostly prepared/ready if the occasion should arise, especially since we were all reminded that we are covered by the states' Good Samaritan Law. So I went in at 7, left at 8:30 after having been there for 90 minutes, taking a 3 1/2 hour lunch break. The whole time I was gone, was wondering why the employer is not interested in having workers trained to provide assistance for this type thing? I'm the one who made the suggestion years ago that they could let employees take an hour of paid time to go to the Red Cross and donate a pint of blood. Of course, they would be willing for you to do things that make them look like good corporate citizens,and are all about having employees volunteer to support United Way, March of Dimes walk, Partnerships in Education, etc., but not at the expense of taking an hour that you could be working. Just heard a sermon this morning that was a great affirmation of my below the radar 'Laundry Minstry': so the person who goes in the kitchen at church every week and takes the dirty towels home to wash, dry, fold and return finally feels like someone notices there are always clean towels in the basket that are apparently used to mop the floor. To say nothing of those forty (yes: 40) tablecloths from a big dinner the church sponsored about a month ago that had been languishing in garbage bags for a week that I took to the laundro-mat and spent fifty dollars in quarters washing and drying to fold and return clean, ready to re-use. Worst part was all the folding! :( note to daughters: Someone is always watching what you do, and thinking: your actions are much louder than your voice... I am starting to sound like my mother!?!

funny? yes. embarassing? probably

2011-03-22T18:50:00.001-07:00

I went to the coast yesterday to visit a friend. On the way across the state, I stopped when I noticed gas at a convenience store for fifteen cents less than it is here. Traveled down some pretty remote country roads, through some really pretty farm land before getting to I-16, then on to where it interesects with I-95.

Got to where the friend lives in a Methodist retirement center southwest of Savannah in Richmond Hill community, with plans to spend the night on her couch (in my trusty sleeping bag), did a bit of riding around, spent the night and started back home today.

I was obviously not paying close attention to the gas gauge: the little thing that beeps when you are getting seriously low came on, as I was tooling along with great plans to make it back to that curb store where the (relatively speaking) 'cheap' gas was 24 hours earlier. I got more and more anxious (plus of course, needed to pee) when I kept going and going and going without seeing anyplace to buy gas, and the Low Fuel beeper kept beeping and beeping and beeping. With me wondering if it would actually still 'go' on the batteries if there was no petro. in tank... up and down and up and down those steep hills near the Oconee through the middle of the state.

I saw a bunch of guys in yellow DOT trucks and was pondering stopping to ask for a gallon, but said: naaa - I can make it, then topped another hill with no curbstore in sight, and continued to fret... came to another intersection out in the middle of nowhere, with no curbstore in sight, and continued to fret... passed a golf course and thought: hmmmm - they use gas in their weedwhackers and lawnmowers, and said: naaa.... I can make it, then continued to be antsy and anxious. Came to another intersection, with no pumps, and finally made a U-turn and went back to throw my foolish self on the mercy of the groundskeeper at the golf course. The guy in the pro shop laughed and said there is a gas station about a mile up the road, but gave me a gallon anyway.

And said: 'don't pay for it, just pass it on'.

The moral to this story is: there are definite limits to the benefits of frugality.

And when I did get to the CS that was really several miles away, gas had gone up 6 cents since yesterday. But I did FILL it UP. And thankful for not having to be frugal/foolishly trying to save pennies.

VTWE #21

2011-03-21T05:29:00.000-07:00

I told a fellow church-goer/retired minister/friend some weeks ago that I was interested in being a 'worker bee' for the Valley Walk To Emmaus retreat this past weekend. After he put my name in the pot, I discovered me volunteered as the Head of the Worship Team... which is not at all what I expected, much preferring to be a little ole' below-the-radar indian than a Chief. But since I had served in that area for both the men's and women's retreats in the fall, apparently the person who makes those decisions felt like I was experienced/well-trained enough to just throw me in and see if I could swim.

I'm here to tell about it, so I guess we managed to muddle through fairly well.

It was long weekend: those who were serving 'behind the scenes' to make the event run smoothly for the 'pilgrims' when they would arrive on Thursday evening, were to be on-site by 1:00 on Thursday afternoon. I did not get the job description/book/binder of instructions with all the particulars for my area until Thursday morning, so I felt pretty anxious and stressed going into the weekend. But I found out what I was responsible for, what supplies were needed, and began putting everything in place for the 'pilgrims' to arrive in the evening.

I had excellent assistance, ample support from other workers, Logistics coordinator, and my Faithful Friend (who actually volunteered herself, instead of me being the one twho usually ropes her into projects). So it all got done, without the pilgrims realizing how many people were doing the work to make their time there in the woods such a rewarding, enriching experience.

At the end of the weekend, when the pilgrims were sort of 'commisioned', in a sense of returning (Go Ye Therefore...) to the Real World - going back out into their community, heading home to families, back to business in a literal sense - they were presented with the opportunity to tell what the weekend meant to them in terms of growth and how they would apply that experience. It was very sweet, often wet and teary, to see full-grown, well-fed, big, hairy men become moved, mould-able, transformed by what they had experienced.

When we were on the way back to Columbus late Sunday afternoon, nearly brain-dead from insufficent sleep and running on chocolate (my preferred form of caffiene) for three days: we talked about the questions the men responded to. 'What this weekend means to me' would have to be the blessing that I received when I had opportunity to be a witness to/serving during such a life-changing event. Seeing those men whose hearts were touched and lives were changed, knowing they will go back into families and the marketplace and what they will take with them.
Very gratifying knowing I had a part in that.

Over the weekend, when the servants were given an opportunity to secretly, anonymously walk around the outside walls of the chapel as the men were lead in worship, and saturate those men with prayer. Mine was for them to experience something that they would take home and live out with their families. For their hearts to be filled with the desire to raise up a generation of leaders, teach their children what they will need to grow into adults with integrity and character they will need to lead a nation, change our society and turn us around.

If you would like to feel like your heart,soul, spirit has been in for a 'tune-up' and renewed, you should talk to me about going on the Walk to Emmaus.

what would you do? (WWJD?)

2011-03-16T07:30:00.000-07:00

After I took the S-i-l to her Dr. appt. on Tuesday, I wanted to run by the church to take some clean towels back to the kitchen. When we drove up in the parking lot, there was a woman standing in the misting rain on the curb, appearing to be waiting for someone/something to happen. A church staff member came out of the building as I pulled up and said the woman on the curb needed a ride to a store down the street (where I just conveniently happen to be employed and planned to drive by) so I said I would provide the transportation, if she would take clean laundry into the kitchen.

The woman got in the car, explaining her car was broken, and started telling us that she was going to try to find her friend at work and ask to borrow enough money to pay for the family to spend the night at Motel 8. I told her I would provide the money, and would take her whereever she needed to go.

She had me take her to the motel, I went in to give my $25 to the desk clerk, and she admitted that she really needed $35, so I coughed up another ten. I got my receipt, and was walking out when she then asked me if she could get a ride to the nearest Waffle House to get her three daughters some sausage biscuits for breakfast.

So we did, and left her there. And immediately started counting out blessings on the way back to the house. I am still counting, and realize they are really too numerous to begin listing, but here's the Short List:
I am thankful for a roof over my head, without worrying about how to pay for it.
I am thankful for no concerns about where the next meal is coming from.
I am thankful for a car that will take me anyplace I want to go, and the ability to refill the gas tank when needed.
I am thankful for a man who provides, and has never mistreated me.
I am thankful for having financial security, no anxiety over money.
I am thankful for health.
I am thankful for healthy happy daughters who have a sense of success and accomplishment in their daily lives.

Now I know that even though she told me she was working and had received/deposited a paycheck, she could not access the cash for another 24 hours, to be able pay her motel bill, she also told someone else at the church that same story last week. So there is more, much more to the story than I am privy to, even though she talked continually the whole time we were in the car. And I'm not sure how much of the information I got was accurate/truthful in the telling.

I decided to not feel buffaloed or b.s.'d, but choose to feel like I happened along, was in the right place at the right time, to help someone in a pinch. Especially with young dependent daughters who were waiting for mom to come back and provide for their needs.

crazie weather: what seasons is it, really?

2011-03-08T09:30:00.000-08:00

Spring? Winter? 34 degrees? 68 degrees? Who knows? Al Gore? Did he invent this nutty weather?

I planted some starts of little English Pea plants about two weeks ago out along the fence in the garden area, hoping they will climb and make some tender peas for me to go out and eat standing in the backyard. The Little Red Hen has no intention whatsoever of sharing if they should produce.

And IF they don't: I have two packets of seeds of English peas I hope I will get planted this afternoon, on this bright, crystal clear blue sky, sunny day. Of course there is that chance that I am planting too late, and they will get hurt from too much heat when the days warm up into the 80's and beyond. Or that I am planting too early, and they won't do anything, like the time I planted carrot seeds and they took two years to decide it was time to grow... out in the garden right now, even though I did not plant the first carrot seed back in the fall - so anything that looks like a carrot has been waiting in the dark, wet cold earth for well over a year.

road trip to south GA.

2011-03-04T19:06:00.000-08:00

I went to south Ga. this week, a pretty quick trip, that was actually pretty pretty. The yellow Carolina jasmine is blooming bountifully out in the tree tops. And the volunteering, nusiance Bradford pears that have been spread by wildlife are glorious. Sad that so many spring things put on such a fantastic show for about five days, then seem to vanish into the landscape for another 51 weeks, becoming nearly un-noticeable until they put on their finery next spring.

Things are quiet in Quitman - and getting quieter. Half the stores in town are empty. Smilin' Jack left a hole that will not be soon filled...The only businesses that seem to thrive are eating establishments... and since the only place I spent any money was at the postoffice, I was not very helpful for boosting the economy.

Went to Valdosta to visit KST and the auntie who is having a birthday today. She enjoys telling that she was born on the only day that is a 'command': March Forth!

Got a little shrub-whacking done in the back yard. It has been neglected for a Long Time, and getting things under control is going to be monumental. I think I need to be looking at the project through a carboard cylinder, like kids making binoculars out of toilet paper tubes at pre-school, for the work there to not appear be so overwhelming that I throw up my hands in defeat.

so.... what happen' to spring?

2011-03-04T18:53:00.000-08:00

It was gorgeous last weekend: and now the forsythia is in full amazing bloom, looking like a huge mass of teeniest little yellow butterflies hovering between the tree trunks out in the bare woods, brilliantly yellow against the dull grays and browns of bare trees and fallen leaves. And a ba-zillion bulb plants popping up in the leaf mulch that have suddenly brought forth bright blossoms: 'smiley-face' yellow of daffodils, spikes of lavendar, white and pink hyacinths, tiny little demure white bell-shapes of snow-drops...

And weather that will drop down to freezing over the weekend? On the very day that I decided it was safe to retire my wool sox back to the bottom drawer and change over to ankle socks? I had to come home, drag out the warmwoolies and put on another layer just to go for a walk!

I had an unusual 1/2 day of sub. teaching today that I accepted over a week ago, thinking: this will be a cinch. Which it was not. I was the sub. for the para-pro., but the teacher had a sub. also which means they were both leaving school early. And I am thinking: why did the school leave a class room full of kids with a para-sub? I thought they would not leave a classroom 'unattended' with just an aide in there??? sound strange to you too?

End of Feb... beginning of spring?

2011-02-26T14:12:00.000-08:00

Just because we have had unbelieveably beautiful weather that makes everything burst forth in glorious bloom, don't think we are really done with wearing long-johns and wool sox: we have March to get through yet!

I had two sub. jobs this week, both in Kindergarten as a para. pro. Not so bad, as far as the experience goes - the teacher had everyone pretty well in hand. But the thing is: some of those kids seem to have already fallen through the cracks, and they are not even six years old, not in 'real' school classrooms. One of the little people I spent some time with on Friday was so far behind what the other kids in the classroom were doing, she could not even spell her own name. It is so heartwrenching to see them struggle, and wonder if they are not getting any support at home, where apparently there are not family members who take any time to read, converse, explain, reinforce anything that goes on in the school.

I know there are many reasons why kids can be struggling to meet minimum standards that are required for yearly promotions, including physicall problems like vision or hearing issues, as well as more subtle disabilities that require experts to diagnose. But when I see them struggling, or even worse, not struggling: already saying 'I can't', or 'I don't know how', it makes me so sad to see such a young child at her age already so far behind. And me wondering if there is anyone in her life willing to devote any time to making her feel confident and capable.

On a different, but similar note: I am going to start a little volunteer project on Monday that will go on for a couple of months. I will be going into a school on the south side of town, along with other volunteers, lined up for each day of the week. Working one-on-one with some first graders that are struggling with literacy skills. Helping them develop both abilities and confidence in their reading/language. With various and sundry 'breaks' for CSU and MCSC spring breaks, I guess it will go on until early May, though I thought it would be just Feb. and March. Kinda slow getting up enough volunteers to get started, so will apparently be doing this on Mondays until near the end of the school semester.

I know there are so many little people who do not get the encouragement/time/attention that it takes to make them literate, just little things like talking about what's on the cereal box at breakfast or street signs. I am looking forward to this little opportunity to have an impact.

I'm fully recovered, thankyouverymuch....

2011-02-23T18:04:00.000-08:00

I guess I have completely gotten over the 'fun' of working in a floral shop over Valentine's Day. I took a substitute teaching job for today, and with my whip and chair, went back into the elementary school classrooms. Since I had worked with this teacher before (I was the sub. for the para-pro.) I felt like I pretty much knew what I was getting into.

And it was not so bad: especially since there is a new assistant principal in the school who has gotten the awful noise in the lunchroom under control. After leaving there with a pounding headache from lunch dutyon my last day of working at that school, I was fearful (went equipped with earplugs and a supply of tylenol!) of what an hour in the enclosed environment of 200 kids shouting in the cafeteria would be like. And got in hot water with another aide, who was clearly disapproving of the fact that is was so quiet in there I was able to walk the floor, occasionally eyeing the students and read my book at the same time. She did not like my book reading at all, and was pretty plain spoken about it... Funny: how other schools encourage the kids to actually bring their library books into the lunchroom and use the time after they finish eating to read, which is a Great Idea that keeps them quiet in addition to all the good things that independent reading does for kids and the rest of us as well.

I have another one lined up for Friday, but will continue to check with the computer to find something I might like better than the one I have committed to... (meaning better pay than what I will get as a para-pro. subsititute - a couple of the jobs I took before my V.Day break were so onerous I'd pretty much decided that the work should pay at least $400 a day to make it worth the misery of having to be cooped up in a room with 20 or more of the little rascals.)

happy V. D. to all, & to all a good night

2011-02-14T17:28:00.000-08:00

I went to work at Publix at 7:00 this morning, and clocked out at 7:12p.m. It was a really loooonnnng day, and my feets are reallly tired. But as the day progressed, I realized that when you are busy, and don't have the time to look at your watch every thirty seconds wondering: 'is it time to go home yet?', time seems to sprout feathers, and it is not such a chore as when it seems to do when you have lead weights tied around your ankles and the hands on the clock seem to be going backwards.

I don't know if the boss will think it was a 'successful' day (and thankfully the way they judge 'success' is vastly different from the way I desire to be remembered in history!) but at one point the dept. manager walked by and told us that our receipts as items scanned through the registers exceeded the amount that had been sold by the meat department: and you cannot eat roses, either the cash'n' carry variety or the 'dozens in a vase'. So I guess the management will eventually evaluate it as a profitable day, for which I am thankful, since it is the P&L/make-or-break day for floral sales.

I told them when I left, after putting in over twelve hours that all I wanted was for them to remember, and appreciate that I was there when it was Crunch Time.

Actually, what I am thinking is: what is wrong with those guys? Don't they know we would rather have the $20 or $30 or $40 to spend on ourselves than have something that will be in the trash by the end of the week? What is it with guys?

more of that substitute teaching?

2011-02-08T18:39:00.000-08:00

I've had several days of sub. teaching in the past couple of weeks that have been really good experiences, and several that have been 'way far at the extreme other end of the spectrum: enough misery to make me question why I do it? Am not sure that I have figured out the answer to that... it's hard to say. Mostly because it's very difficult to know in advance what the day will be like. For instance: I have been in classes that I thought would be challenging, and found them to be well-behaved, well-run, easy to manage students. And have been in situations that I thought would be a breeze and found myself in the center of a tornado/hurricane/tsunami. It's impossible to predict.

One of the jobs I had last week gave me a chance to sit down and talk with a couple of other teachers while the kids were in a computer lab. They were discussing a cake another teacher had the kids stir up to cook, with plans to eat the finished product at the end of the school day. It sounded very intriguing, so I asked for the recipe. The houseguests made it today, and I took it to share with community group who were very impressed (but they will eat most anything, so I would not consider that crowd 'particular' or particularly 'discerning' in their tastes!)

CrockPot Chocolate Cake
1 box chocolate cake mis
8 oz. sour cream
1 pkg instant choc. pudding
1 cup choc. chips
4 eggs
3/4 cup oil
1 cup water
Mix all ingredients together. Pour into lightly greased 5 quart crock pot. Cover. Cook 3-4 hours on high or 6-8 hours on low.

It's understandably Very Rich, and very good served warm with vanilla ice cream(according to the group who ate half the cake.) I am pondering how to change enough ingredients to make it not chocolate, since I do not eat chocolate cake, but I did taste it, and it is more fudgey/brownie like than actual cake. But then again, if it is chocolate, that will keep me from hearing it calling my name.

I am also pondering giving up chocolate for Lent, so I need to go ahead and eat up everything around here that would be a temptation during the forty days I don't want to be 'lead astray'.

I was at Publix today, and will be there through next Monday, so you won't be reading about any more horror stories from the school district here for the next week!

forgive me for being so self-righteous, but...

2011-02-03T18:44:00.000-08:00

I am so pleased with myself for finally, after over a month of dragging my feet, going to the YMCA and swimming today. I have been riding my towel and suit around in my car for weeks, and somehow not actually getting there: either having a hard time getting going in the mornings, having other commitments during the hours the pool is available for laps, or (most likely) not being willing to take off all the multitidinous layers I wear and strip down to get wet/COLD.

But I went and was not nearly as chilly as I had dreaded/anticipated (after the first shock) and swam laps for nearly 45 minutes. It was good, hard work. After I showered and dressed, I came home and walked three miles, so planning to sleep well tonight.

Have a sub. teaching job tomorrow, and lots of hours on the Floral Shoppe schedule next week due to the approaching 'roses and chocolates' day in mid-February.

commuting? to decatur....

2011-02-02T12:57:00.000-08:00

I've been to Decatur twice in recent days. I am not actually 'commuting' or even remotely interested in finding any more employment than the occasional/haphazard/sporadic stuff I find myself currently involved with. Though I do have a couple more volunteer positions I will soon be squeezing into my weekly schedule in the near future.... but I will save the telling for another day just to keep you reading here!

The drives to Traffic-snarl-Land were specifically for the purpose of finding Columbia Seminary. The houseguest, Cheryl, had to be there last Saturday to pick up an assignment that is a portion of requirements for Ordination in the Presbyterian Church. She had to answer questions, complete an essay (I think similar to providing enough research and documentation equal writing a sermon), and return the completed paperwork by 9:00 am on Thursday. So we went back today to hand deliver the 15 pages she wrote over the weekend to the proctor who will post all the documents to Louisville before 10:00 tomorrow. I know she is hoping for a good outcome, having taken the same/similar exam twice already, and ready to move on to the next phase of her life.

Had a good lunch with sweet folks, and got back on the road for Columbus by 1:00, home by 3:00, making my neck crunchy from all that driving, and giving me a stress headache from having to pay such diligent attention to loony-tunes drivers.

Too bad I cannot put the little Toyota on auto pilot, and I know people who daily make such a long, brain and backside-numbing drive often think the same thing. It is about the same distance as driving to Valdosta, but I think the misery factor should be adjusted by about 12 to account for having to cope with the twelve or fourteen lanes of whizzing traffic that everyone deals with in the 50 miles surrounding Atlant

a day in the (dull) life...

2011-01-31T18:34:00.000-08:00

Worked at Publix today. I thought I would be putting out freight in the floral dept., but spent the day making salads in Produce prep. area.

It was really a pleasant experience, as opposed to being closed up in a classroom with 23 six-year olds, all of whom appeard to be spring-loaded on both ends: with no control over their mouths, and completely incapable of remaining seated for any length of time.

Pleasantly repetitively dull.

T.G.I.F.

2011-01-28T18:54:00.000-08:00

...even unfunny-er than yesterday is the fact that I knew what I was getting into when I went back for more of the same today.

I'd been sitting around in my pajamas on Thursday morning, after deciding I could keep myself plenty busy without having a sub. teaching job to jeep myself entertained. When the phone rang about 8:30... "strange" I thought to myself, and answered it get an offer for a job working in the first grade.

It was a really stressful day, and not at all fun, even though I generally think kids that age are really amusing. I don't know if it was just the idea of the teacher being out, or what made it such a difficult class to manage, but I was very happy when that day was over.

So I was sitting in the same place this morning about 8:15 when the phone rang again, and I though to myself: "that's strange" because the home number nearly never rings, with everyone so addicted to cell phones. But I answered it to hear a voice saying: "Ms. Fluker, are you coming back?" I was completely baffled, until I realized it was that same school, and I was expected to re-appear for a re-match. They had apparently put me into the computer system for the second day without actually letting me know about the request for a substitute for Friday. I had to think/consider, but decided anyone else who went in there would have the same experience I did on Thursday, and I could just bite the bullet and make the best of it, having a slight edge over anyone who would go in for the first time. I did have the foresight to put the tylenol in my lunch box so I could take it at lunch time, but did not have the wisdom to take headache relief prior to the actual need, before I even left home, which would have been a smart move.

I am very thankful it is Friday, and there is not another school day this week. And that we are not Japan where the schools run six days. I don't think I have it in me to do that again for a while. And suspect that a few days of working at Publix in the next couple of weeks will be a pleasant interlude from short people.

unfunny in a funny way, or maybe not...

2011-01-27T18:36:00.000-08:00

I had three days of sub. teaching last week, that I should be ashamed of taking the school district's money for 'working'. But I was there, and I will happily take the funds: even though it takes nearly two months after the work has been done for the process to wend it's way from the work site through the payroll dept. and land in my checking account.

The jobs I have been on this week, that I was really anxious about and kept thinking to myself that I should just call the computer back and 'return' the days to the system and let someone else pick them up - they were surprisingly easy. At one of the magnet elementary schools in classrooms of teachers who are so experienced with classes so well trained there were no problems. I told the staff person who took me to the classroom that I was really concerned about whether I could handle the class: she was very reassuring, but I was not reassured. One of the days was with third grade, the other with fourth graders, and they were both remarkably easy. So much that I told the fourth grade kids that was likely the best day I had ever had working as a substitute.

The same cannot be said for the first grade job I accidently had today. I did not have an assignment when I went to bed, but knew I would wake up at 5:00 am, so decided I would get up at call at 5:30 before the computer started trying to find teachers for the day. I didn't find anything at all, so was lazing around in my pj's at 8:30, when a school called saying a first grade teacher was out sick. So I thought: "Well, yeah... go in at 9:15, enjoy the day while the person in the classroom who knows the schedule, knows the kids, knows the way the classroom is set up, and how they act handle them...let the aide manage the show, and I will be there to 'assist',out of there at 2:30. That's easy enough!"

I got there about 9:30, and tried to create order from chaos. It was not a successful venture. When I finally got them all squared away, on the bus, in line for day care or parental pick-up, I left and came straight home to take three extra strength Tylenol. And told the people here that "if I were I drinking man, I would be having something cold and tall". I'd assumed that since it was a first grade that there would be a para-pro. in the room. Wrong. Just thinking about what a chaotic day it was makes my head ache again.

And I have already turned down two jobs for Friday. I think I need a Mental Health Day, or maybe a Mental Health week/month?

So... how was that little jobette?

2011-01-19T16:34:00.000-08:00

I did my first of three days as a sub. teacher for Kindergarten class today. I expected that it would be a fairly laid back event, since the para-pro. who knows the kids, their quirks and class schedule would be there to maintain order and consistency. Then when I got there, discovered that in addition to the Aide who has obviously been doing this work for a very long time, there was also a student teacher from CSU education program in the classroom. So yes, it was a very agreeable day. And since I have two more days of it for this week, will look forward to the entertainment. And hope that the two days I already have lined up at a different school for next week will not be so bad that I will think I need to retire from my piece-meal, part-time day-labor work.

I like little people: they are fun and funny. It made me wonder for a few minutes (very few) why I did not persue the occupation. But I quickly recovered my sanity. Though I am thankful for the work and pay that I will eventually receive (payroll lags about eight weeks behind the actual work), I am very thankful that I do not need employment.

I stopped by Publix yesterday to check on that (lack of) work, and as I expected, found myself on the schedule there for several days in the next couple of weeks. The closer it gets to Feb. 14, the more likely it is that I will suddenly find myself 'in demand'...and then likely fall completely out of favor soon after when my popularity plumets...

Heart day: a month a way...

2011-01-14T14:11:00.000-08:00

When I was a Publix yesterday (the first day I was on the work schedule since 12-26) I told MF that Valentines day was only a month away, and he'd better get crackin' on getting all the red and white frou-frou out of the closet and fluffed up to re-arrange in an artful manner that would cause it to Not look recycled...

I had a substitute teaching job today, that I found as a result of waking up at 5:00, getting up at 5:30 and calling the SubFinder (that never sleeps), looking for a job. I went back down to the school where I was a sub. for the teacher's aide on the last day before Christmas break: discovered I was in the same classroom with that funny teacher who had her flannel pajamas on right before they got out for the holidays (wear-your-pj's-to-school-day, unbeknowst to me). So when I walked in the room and we finished laughing at each other, I asked what kind of craft project she had planned for today.

Having finally recovered from her last 'project' of smearing cake icing on 1/2 pint milk cartons and 'gluing' on graham crackers to make Gingerbread houses, I figured I could handle most anything she could dream up and dish out. So today we mixed Elmer's glue and shaving cream from an aerosol can to make 'snow' that they ladled generously on posterboard cut-outs for snowmen. Actuallly looked pretty good, after adding black punched-out construction paper dots for eyes, mouths and buttons, plus the scarves, mittens and hats I cut out from colored paper. I told before I left that I was pretty sure her para-pro. knew what she had planned, and that explained why she called herself in sick today.

It was funny, messy, and we had a good laugh over the fact that I told her back in December that I thought she was completely Fearless to attempt those 'gingerbread houses' with that crowd that was already hyper due to anticipation of Santa, so if she was 'game', I reckoned I was too.

I already have three sub. teaching days lined up for next week, and two more before the end of the month. If Publix don't want me, I'll just find someone who does!

happy 362 more days...

2011-01-03T16:18:00.000-08:00

Planning the first out-of-town trip for the brand, spanking new year. Going to Decatur tomorrow, with the usual 1/2 way there before the sun shows up. I hate, despise that traffic, and in an effort to avoid whizzing commuters, usually try to be on the road north by 5:00 a.m., putting me in Decatur, knocking on the door by 7:00, when everyone one else who stayed in bed fifteen extra minutes is tearing across town to get to work on time.

Someone cleverly ordered 100 spring-blooming bulbs, but has yet to get them in the ground. How will they know to wake up when the sun starts back north again if they haven't even been put to bed yet? I guess there is something about them that knows when the days are getting longer, to cause them to want to begin to show their smiling faces and gorgeous blooms as the seasons merge, but if they don't get planted, they can't put on the show!

I suspect it may be too late for the tulip bulbs to really perform, because they should have been put in the ground back in the fall, needing 'way more hours of cold weather than they will get with January planting, but hope that the assorted daffodils, hyacinths and others will come up with vigor once they get established. We shall see.... provided we can remember where what was planted when they start showing themselves above ground!

Happy new opportunities to do better...

2011-01-01T09:30:00.000-08:00

I've been reading lately during the season of beneficience and generosity about lots of places one could make a meaningful contribution, sending donations to make a difference, providing cash infusions to change the world one person at a time.

I am very thankful for the gifts I received that are not actually something I will use: donations to the Heifer project of funds to help folks in developing nations become self-sufficient, while providing food, and support to the families who will receive livestock. And those sweet Florida friends, who give donations toward 'nothing but nets' to provide a safe sleeping environment in places that are otherwise havens for malaria-infested mosquitos.

We've all got more than enough 'stuff'. It is so gratifying to have an opportunity, even in a vicarious fashion, to be part of lifiting up those who are struggling in other parts of the planet, while we enjoy all the advantages, benefits and consumer-products available for consumption here in our glutton-ous country. (did I just make up a new word?!)

The latest 'opportunity' I read about: was in the Valdosta State University Alum newsletter, a multi-page, glossy publication that promotes the school in various ways, provides info. for vastly scattered grads, and, as usual, offers multiple opportunities to support foundations, alumni programs and scholarship giving. The most interesting was a non-profit a graduate started that helps to provide potable water to impoverished communities. If you don't have water to drink, cook, wash your children, I can readily see that nothing else matters. I have not done any research, but think it sounds like an interesting project. Check if out: defythirst.org

My people in Chattanooga and Decatur make micro-loans through: kiva.org. And will eventually get that investment back, so if you want to make the gift, with 'strings attached' (or more accurately a bungee cord) that is an option...

I'm counting my blessings. This is not necessairily a 'resolution' but something that I want to make a consistent effort to be more aware of... since we all have so, so, so many reasons to be thankful.

Wear your pj's to school day?

2010-12-26T17:32:00.000-08:00

Neither did I: but when I got there to subsitute teach as the para-pro. in the Kindergarten classroom, the teacher and most of the kids were wearing flannel or thermal pajamas. I wish I had known... it would have saved me a lot of time getting dressed before I left the house, running late, with my shirt-tail flapping.

That teacher was absoultely fearless: she turned twenty kids loose with little tubs of icing and popsicle sticks with instructions to cover half-pint milk cartons with the icing so they could attach squares of graham crackers and all manner of marshmallows, candy, peppermint candy canes, to make them look like gingerbread houses. I am still wondering what her day would have been like if I had not showed up to clean up the remarkable mess they made: they were literally wearing that icing. I dont' think they actually consumed much - it just did not occur to them to lick their fingers! But they did get it all over their hands, in their hair, smeared on tables and chairs... really amazing...

While they were watching 'The Polar Express' movie after the lunch they did not eat, the teachers were bagging up a pile of goodies parents had sent, so each child went home with about two pounds of cookies, candy, popcorn, etc., leaving me very thankful they had not had a 'party' and consumed that two pounds of sugar before they left school - in addition to some remarkably sticky 'gingerbread houses' that we put in gallon zipper bags to send home for future consumption.

I've already got a couple of subsituting days lined up for January... since my work schedule at Publix has tapered down to nearly nothing, I'll be figuring out some other ways to keep myself occupied.

how was your week - Dec 24th

2010-12-26T17:31:00.000-08:00

I worked more at Publix this week than any week since probably back in February. And probably won't be on the schedule for more than an occasional day until Valentine's Day comes around again. All day on Tuesday, and thought it would be a full day on Wednesday, but when I got there, and they decided business was really slow, was sent home by mid-morning, with the request that I would come back early on Thursday.

I'd had intentions to go to Valdosta when I got off work the middle of the afternoon on Wednesday, was packed and ready to travel to go to visit the shut-in Auntie. So I got in the road much earlier than expected, and was there by early afternoon. We went to the cemetery in Quitman to put out red silk poinsettia plants on graves, and did a slow drive through town, out Court Street. Had soup for supper and went to be early, since I had to get up and return to Columbus for an unexpected day on the Publix schedule.

She seems to be getting stronger, regaining stamina, but certainly not at the speed she would like. Very frustrated by the slowness of recovery, and apparently still unwilling to concede that the cumulative effects of six surgeries in less than three years would take a heavy toll on anybody's body. Gradually moving faster, but so fearful of falling, she does not do the exercises and therapy that is obviously required to improve/recover from yet another traumatic health event.

Dec. 24th

2010-12-26T17:30:00.000-08:00

Not expecting any body to come and entertain us here on Christmas day... that will be a major non-event. I can't remember when there has been No excitement, No 'crack of dawn' activity in my life: people with ants in their pants at 5:00 (or earlier) on Christmas morning. The hysteria will be limited to seeing how long the batteries I bought at the Just-a-Buck store will last in the electric/remote controlled train set we will be putting together in the morning. Pretty low key anti-excitement to my way of thinking. We need bicycles! roller skates! go-carts! to create chaos!

My early memories of Christmas mornings include having such warm weather that kids were swarming the streets in shorts and T-shirts showing off their new 'wheels'. It was always overcast, usually damp, but invariably warm enough for chasing around the neighborhood without heavy winter wear to hamper activities.

If I was not so tired from getting about four hours of sleep last night (due to irresponsible chocolate consumption, most likely - it was not so fantastically, remarkably, astoundingly good as to be worth lying in bed for several hours with eyes refusing to stay shut, and brain whirring at a gazillion miles an hour.. I'd have rather had the sleep because it's barely dark and I feel exhausted, ready for bed at 8:00!) I'd stay up until late, with the hopes of sleeping past 6:00 a.m. tomorrow: that would be a real novelty.

Since Santa is not coming down my chimney, it would be a real treat to be lazy slug-a-bed - but I guess there is too much 'Choppy' in me for that! So feel free to call, or stop by at 6:30 for a cup of instant, decaf and visit - I'll be up wandering around in my p.j.'s, puttering in the kitchen or emailing...

Dec. 25th

2010-12-26T17:29:00.000-08:00

No one here for celebrating, only 'just us chickens', but looking forward to folks coming in the first of the week.I'm cooking, and planning cooking, and waiting, and trying not to eat while I wait. Maybe I should put all my clothes on, every single piece, and go for a walk... don't you burn more calories in cold weather just trying to keep your body temp. adjusted?

I hope....If you wonder why I am suddenly having this flood of communicating with the world - Yes, You Out There: it is due to the fact that I have all-hours access to my computer. The houseguests are in Florida for a week, so I do not have to arrange my typing around the schedule of someone who sleeps late. Guess I need to be making hay while the sunshines? Speaking of which: I have a report of a white Christmas in Tennessee - you will have to check her Stinky Sweet blog for photos, since I am not amongst the techno. advantaged with a fine camera and ability to put pix. in a wee-tiny little hole in the computer.

Holiday luv 2 U.

tech support...

2010-12-26T17:27:00.000-08:00

Paula here - providing tech support for my sweet mother - or as much as I can without knowing much about Blogger.

She accidently created herself another blog and cute as it might be - it is going to be impossible for her to figure out what is going on so I am basically going to copy and paste her entries from the other blog in her.

You are about to have about 6 new blog entries to read - enjoy!

plugging away on 'day labor' work...

2010-12-14T13:09:00.000-08:00

Since I knew I would be 'stuck' here this week, with no transportation, due to the fact that my car is in the shop for several days getting a new bumper and hood for Christmas - I thought this would be a good time to try to get some substitute teaching jobs. Which I did, and have done.

Both days have been as a para-pro in Kindergarten classrooms, and fairly amusing. I really do not want to be the only person in a room with a twenty or more kids I do not know well enough to call them by name (pretty much the only way you have any control over their behavior whatsover is by knowing them well enough to single out the mis-behaving on a personal basis.) So I have concluded I would much rather be in a pre-K, Kindergarten or first grade class where there is always another person.

I went to great, aggravating lengths to get my certification renewed to be able to increase the pay rate when I do get a job as a sub., but it only applies if I am replacing the actual teacher in the classroom - and most of the calls that occur every morning at 6: 02, and in the evenings during the window between six and nine when the computer calls, are all for para-pro/aide assignments. But I guess that is better than sitting at home and not making anything, so I generally take the para. jobs: which is where I have been twice already this week, and looking for a couple more.

All of which will come to a screeching halt on Friday, when the schools are closing for the year.

All this 'job shopping' has caused me to take several assignments for January, but I suspect that the closer it gets to those days I agreed to work, the less enthusiasm I will have for being confined up in a classroom with a mob of 9 or 10 year olds who are snotty (literally), ornery and generally disagreeable. (I really do not want to bring germs home, so try very hard not to touch anything or anybody - difficult to do when so many of those kids are starving for affection/attention.)

the week that was...

2010-12-11T17:26:00.000-08:00

Spent several days this week in Quitman. Though it does not 'appear' that any progress was made, I know how many big garbage cans we filled up, so feel like we did make some headway. But as is true with lots of things, and accurately documented in some sub-set of Murphy's Law: the more you do the more there is that needs doing.

One of the things I really wanted to accomplish was to get rid of a pile of old nasty, water-filled tires that had been left in the backyard years ago, and hopefully find some place to haul them away and deposit while there was a pickup truck available to load them in. So I went by a shop that sells tires to ask: If I am willing to pay a small disposal fee, will you let me bring you these old tires to add to the pile that you will have a recycling company haul off and turn into asphalt? The answer: we will take them off your hands for $8 each. I think I had 12 tires, so that seemed to be pretty outrageous to me. We started calling around and found that the city would not pick them up (I pretty much knew that), and the local landfill would not accept them. So called the trash contracting service in Valdosta who said they could not take them because that landfill would not allow them either. We finally contacted the landfill in Thomas County, and found that they would take them for about $1 each... I did not want to drive the dry-rotted crappy old bald tires to Thomasville, but could not in good conscience just roll them off the back of the truck into the creek. So we hauled them off to the Thomas County landfill and paid $11 to unload them there: with a flock of buzzards sitting on the bare branches of a dead tree as witnesses, like something out of a very bad movie...

We borrowed/heisted a Thomas Utilities garbage can on the way back to Brooks County, that nearly filled the back of the truck, and was immediately loaded full of more bags of trash when we got it back to the house.... so yes, though you would open closets and cupboards and not feel like anything had disappeared, we really did make some Cleaning-Out progress. Thanks to you, FS! ;)

There is some sort of electrical crisis: some of the lights do not work, both in the kitchen and outside. Will have to get the electrician (who also drives a county school bus, and will work me in around the pick-up/delivery hours) to come and figure it out, and hope it is nothing overly complicate/involved/expensive to remedy, but fear the worst in a house where most of the wiring is nearly 60 years old.

if you were wondering what to give...

2010-12-04T12:47:00.000-08:00

I told my family several years ago that I did not want any 'stuff', nothing they could go to the store and buy, nothing that has to be dusted around.

All I want from anyone on any gift-giving occasion when a person feels the urge to 'gift' is
Time. So if you are thinking about what a person like me would enjoy receiving, now you know.

If you want to make something good to eat, and call me or bring it over for us to share and laugh together, that would be great - but please not anything that I will have to find some place to 'put', and then have to pick up and dust under.

And the more I think about it: the more I have decided that Time is the best gift any of us can give to another: just your undivided attention - lunch, or a cup of hot tea, or a walk in the park together.

I've heard from a very reliable source that 'food' (of the home-made variety) is the perfect gift, because you devote your time to making something tasty/special, and then give it to someone you care about enough to want to charm their tastebuds, see their eyes light up, watch them smile and say: "Ooh, wow! Can I have more???"

There were some years when I spent hours and days in the kitchen making treats to give to people that I never got a response from when Paul had to provide gifts for business. Devoted lots of effort to planning, shopping, cooking and then cleaning for holiday parties. Thankful that era is over - but look back and remember how much of my time was spent in trying to do something different that people would really enjoy, and cannot recall hearing more than a 'thanks' when they walked out the door. So, in the future, my efforts will definitely be aimed at people who really express their delight for homebaked goodies...in a Meg Ryan way!

... so there are exceptions to the Rule of Time...

what to do with leftover 'stuff'...

2010-12-04T12:32:00.000-08:00

Someone grew up, got married and moved away, but failed to take all her stuff.

The stuff included a big box full of Christmas ribbon, and bows she had tried to sell at the consignment store where she worked several years ago, prior to the above sentence. I would periodically, usually during the wrong season, come across that box full of Christmas ribbon, and think: too valuable to trash, but what to do?

I actually fluffed them up and took them to the craft sale at church several weeks ago, but no one even bothered to get close enough to look at them, or ask about price... not knowing I would have said: 'Free! How many do you want?!?!'

A very smart, remarkable thinker/friend suggested taking the bows to a Christmas Tree sales lot in early December and offering to sell them to go on their fresh greenery wreaths. I tried, and sold six to the man down the street (who said he did not want to buy any because his wife had gone to buy some rolls of ribbon and she was an 'experienced' bow-tie-er.) That so surprised me, to have someone buy half of the boxfull that! So: like an idiot, I came home and made more bows.

And went to other tree lots to try to peddle the new ones today. With no success. One girl said 'we make our own', and bit my tongue instead of saying, 'yes, but they are tacky'.

So I decided I would just put them out on the tree out near the street (that same tree where the Easter eggs are still hanging) and make a sign that states: Bows for sale. If I make any money, I will be happy. If someone comes by and takes all my bows, I will be slightly sad about the Grinch, but happy the bows are gone.

If you want to know my street address, so you can come and load up on 'free' bows, you can send me an email, since I do not know how to check for comments here?

south GA update....

2010-12-03T19:52:00.000-08:00

Last Tuesday I went to Thomasville to retrieve the incapacitated auntie from the hospital to get her back home to Valdosta. I knew, and common sense would tell anyone who had just had the third back surgery in less than three years (plus two hip replacements, and elbow surgery thrown in for good measure), that you can't get up and dance out the door in less than a week. She was determined to not endure another bad inpatient rehab. experience, and insistent she was going to go home.

I'd called a friend of hers in Valdosta to inquire about someone who would come and stay to help her get mobile again. That 'someone' turned out to be: Joy - what a blessing.

Joy came over Wednesday morning to talk, and I guess kinda 'job interview', and stayed for lunch. So thankfully, blessedly, I left! I think they must be getting along well, since I have not had any reports otherwise. I am so thankful for this person who just literally fell into our laps, and feels like what she does to provide assistance and support for people and families in need is a calling. Thankful she was available, and thankful she has a very high tolerance level for strong-willed, stubborn, highly opinionated women. She said she had worked for a woman who was nearly 100, and did not want any help at all, but the family insisted, and before it was over the woman was crazy about her... I got the feeling from listening to Joy tell her story, this cantankerous woman just felt so loved and cared for she could not resist responding.

.....and I am very thankful...

results of black friday...

2010-11-28T18:07:00.001-08:00

I did not devote my day on Friday to shopping. But did go to Sears on Thanksgiving morning and get a couple of things to give for Christmas... and am currently pondering the liklihood of returning a couple of other things that I am already wondering why I purchased.

I may be a crappy shopper, but I am a great receipt saver.

The in-laws have a system whereby people only get gifts they really want: everyone makes a list, and the lists are posted in some common, prominent location easily accessible. So everyone else can look at the list, and make a note of what they are planning to 'gift' - a great way to be sure you are buying something that the receipient really has expressed a desire for... and I know there are families who have a 'rule' that you cannot purchase anything for yourself (except the occasional desperately needed underwear) after the first of October, while letting others know of things you would like to have.

And the best way to be sure the receipt doesn't disappear, is to securely attach it to the item, thereby avoiding searching, grief, loss, frustration, monumental aggravation.

television

2010-11-28T18:02:00.000-08:00

TV irritates the **** out of me, but it is so mesmerizing, it is hard to avoid.... kinda like a train wreck: you know you don't actually want to see the horrific view, but you can't make yourself Not Look.

Why would anyone think that guests, people who drove hours to get to your house, and did all that driving specifically to see you, would want to sit and stare at a television for hours, then get up and drive hours to go back home? This does not apply to friends in FL, but aimed at the individual who lives on Lynch Road, who in all liklihood has an addiction that he does not desire to overcome... probably does not read blog either?