Harmoniously Pepper-

No one ever said nicknames have to make sense.
I love my given name but there are waaaaay too many diminutives of it that I really really do not like. And they all seem to have unfortunate rhymes attached. When you have played a sport semi-professionally you get a nickname. When you have been a punk-ette you get a moniker.
The punk one involves some colourful anglo-saxon so the sports one is my choice.

People who I do not like at all call me variations of my given name.
People I like alot call me Pep or Pepper.
People from the murky distant past, yes you Mimi Grad, call me P.K..
(and that doesn't stand for play-kill)

But file this blog under Pepperkinz!


Happy My Birthday

Seems so strange that another year has winged by.

This year I am gainfully employed by the same gainful employer 3 years now.
I love my job. I love my new condo and I love my life.

All that is missing is someone to share with.


Reverent Remembrance

Carol Maureen Barker My bestest ever friend.
My shame remembered each year on this day.

Carol looked at the world with the eyes of love and laughter.
No matter the distance in years, I know she waits for me.
With love.


As a man is, so he sees. As the eye is formed, such are its powers.
William Blake


Still an elf

Those who know, will know where to find this elf.


The Noise in my Head

Alot of my needing things clear and sorted, comes from living life with a Brain injury.
Most people think about Brain Injuries as gaping visible horrors endured by poor unfortunates. Looking at a person such as myself, it is all but impossible to believe that this pleasant looking head can contain such horrors.

The Noise in my head is like a hurricane. It swirls at colossal speeds within, scooping up stray thoughts and memories and hurling them at me ten at a time. Colours flash, sounds pierce and pain penetrates. It is a horror worthy of Edgar Allen Poe.

My brain is very quick even without the injury. Because my TBI took away my ability to filter extraneous material, I wear earplugs alot. I shirk crowds, and I only ever work one on one.

Big concepts are very easy for me. Fine details are not.
Motor skills are retrograde.
Short term memory suspect.

If I repeat myself in posts it is because the idea is new and fresh at the time.
Skip over what you wish.

So IQ 168+, diplomas one, certificates, three and patience naught.

This ought to be a good one.
I care deeply because I have been screwed over by the Health Care system myself.
I spend alot of money just to stay alive and mobile.

I want something better for my clients.
Something with dignity and choice.

We shall see, dive in with me.


Dreaming again....

I had a terrible experience last night on the way to wherever it is I go to shed the day. A long long journey out past our galaxy where I was chatting to a very lonely astron. This poor wandering star was telling me that this too could be my fate.

My dreaming self thought this to be rational and we talked about how the Universe is comprised of billions of lost souls all rushing apart for eternity.
This then is the true hell. To be utterly alone.

My astron had more to say but I was suddenly aware that I was dreaming and I screamed and fell for a thousand years back into my body with a smack.

My scream woke up a few people. Myself included *doh*

Do other people have these nighttime soujourns?
It can be alarming.


Let's talk about sex, baby.

What brings it out in people is beyond me. From the insanely practical to the practically insane, so many of the clients tell me their sordid tales of sex. Yes! I said sex.

It is surreal when the discussion is instigated by an octegenarian. Generally I mumble politely and listen attentively but not too much so as to invite uhm, interaction.

The memory of Mr. G. sitting at his dining room table clad only in his brief haunts me.
"Come here dear, hunny, I show you, NO dont be scared of this little HERE I show you, seee? Nothing to worry about."
uhm, right.

"Oh Lordie', said a supervisor. "You have to stop being so flirtacious and dont wear those lowcut tops or of course you'll get your bum pinched!"
a) I dont flirt and
b) I wear a uniform to work. No lowcut tops here thank you.

"You certainly bring it out in them," said another Supervisor. She was referring to a gentleman who was blind and very cranky. (!!!) I had showed up 20 minutes late due to being told the wrong address. When I did arrive he was miffed but within a short time he was positively oozing charm, asking me if I believe in dating MUCH older men.

After I left, he had called the Supervisor on her direct line (how he got that # who knows) to tell her it was a crime, a crime you know, sending out such a young innocent girl to men's homes where --anything-- could happen!

Yes, I said he was blind. I never said I was young.
He assumed it I suppose. It was very endearing.

The most shocking was an old Scot who was grieving his wife very hard.
He had developed a crush on another worker and would request her all the time.
I had only met him on one other occasion so I was not prepared for his little question to me.
"Never mind about the pills and dinner. Do you think oral sex is possible?"

There is no good answer to that question.

Hey it's not male-exclusive either.
There was a single woman who had a positive yearning for massage.
"Now I will disrobe after my shower and lie here. And you massage the cream into my back.'
I asked one of the other workers if this woman moaned when being massaged.
"YOU WHAT?" "We just rub some lotion on her feet and legs."

oooo okey.
There are a few lady couples of the wealthy eccentric peruasion in these parts.
"OH! Don't mind Mindy she is in a bit of a snit today. She didn't like yesterday's girl."
--- don't ask

"How much do you make an hour? Would you ever consider working privately?"
"What did you have in mind Miss W.?"
---- don't ask

Sometimes its a pain, sometimes its amusing and sometimes its really flattering.
But you know I never see it coming until its too late.

my bad

Sorry I did not fulfill my promise and upload my olde blog here.
I deleted it instead.

So oopsies.

There might be some olde posts kicking around on the google caches etc but *shrug*
But you can read these new ramblings and find along the way some pretty cool stories from the people I meet and work with who tell me things meant to be passed on. Not everything will be of interest to you but I assure you its all of GrEaT interest to me. I love these olde coots. Ladies and gentlemen all. God bless them everyone.

Again, sorry about deleting all those olde stories.



Guess what?

THAT's what!
If the link even works....

Yes yes it is true.
The guess what is that I love to MUD. At my advanced age, finally technology gives up an experience hitherto solely of my mind.

if it matters.


Welcome to the newer Blog

Care is calm or crisis has been officially taken down.
Some of the posts still appear in net caches.

It is not that I have no rants about Health Care in me, more that this version of my blog will include more of my life - how I see things, and why.

Health Care is still of paramount interest to me.
Although I would never compromise anyone by using their real names, situations tend to mirror each other. I see patterns in things. You may read this and be utterly sure this is about someone in your family. Likely not. Likely the situation is very similar.

Shall we muddle through together?
And in between times, I will MUD. Or comment on MUDding.
Or sleep.

Or eat chocolate.
Or eat chocolate in my sleep after MUDding.