Bitter Irony Dept.

Another, yes, yet another incident outside the neighbourhood drug store.
This is a lovely chain store, locally owned, or at least owned by someone now local.
The store has a parking lot that was sufficient ten years ago but is woefully lacking in these boom times. I try to park on the street behind when possible now.

I had finished my shopping and was sitting in my car, about to leave when on the radio, God-Bless-The-CBC of course, came an open line show with a guest from the Motor Vehicles branch. Now whatever the host had in mind for this show was quickly high-jacked by caller after caller trying to find out how to get their elderly relatives off the road.

The first three or four calls were enlightening. After that you could hear frustration in the voices of both host and guest. It was clearly going to be a single topic hour as word on the street spread about it. I half expected to hear one of my siblings.

I decided that it was becoming redundant and so, started the car and reversed from my spot. Being in the *first* parking space, I backed up to leave to the left.
As I went to shift to drive, I hear honking and so looked to the source of the honks just in time to realise the driver beside me had taken that opportunity to reverse as well.... into my back bumper.

Minimal damages to my bumper but quite alot of damage to the drivers side door of the other car. I leapt out of my car over to the window of the other driver who looked very shaken. She was around 80 years old.

I am not sure whose fault it is, perhaps mine, perhaps hers, perhaps both but how ironic is that?

After I gave her all my information I went to leave and she touched my arm and said:
"I am so thankful it was you and not... "
And her voice trailed off.

Perhaps she thought I was getting out of the car to yell and scream about things.
How sad a comment on our society.

I smiled at her and told her that I had been listening to a program on elderly drivers being a menace. Then I said to her:
"And who has the accident? Why ME! WAit til I tell my Father!"

Honestly, it aint that bad is it?
We are all insured.
This is my first accident in many years. At 3 mph or so.


Otherworldly Rant

It is evening and the stealthy orcs are haunting Hollin Ridge.
Ancient Hollin is crawling with them, and I have a night's work cut out for me.

Now some would not bother with such a small thing, after all there are bigger meaner things further east, but I find the presence of even ONE orc there offensive.
I put my blade to as many as I can and go to sell the loot. When I enter the shop there are around 45 knives on the ground and 45 cylindrical cases. How odd.

Being a sensible type I sell everything that is on the ground and deposit the money in the bank. Then I carry on.

I will spare you the details of what happened later.
Suffice to say it resulted in me having a hissy fit and typeing *leave*

I know I know.....
Anyone writing about killing orcs is suspect.



An elderly woman who was a Community client for a few years prior to her placement in extended care just passed away this week. This happens every week of course but some you feel the loss and others you nod and send a prayer.

This particular woman was very capable and extremely sharp tongued. It was her way of coping with life in a wheelchair. She baked the best pies, sewed the nicest clothes and followed everyones life but her families with compassion and care.
Interesting, no?

She also weighed about 400 pounds and had an angel lift.
I met her the day she got the new lift after her private worker quit due to an injury. Apparantly he is still off 6 years later.

Virtually every person who was a regular worker in her home sustained an injury. Not everyone realised it was from her place as it came out in other homes for some but believe me, it was from her.

She had the lift but she refused to use a hospital bed. Her legs were like rocks and she could not lift them on her own. The moment you touched her she started loudly complaining about the pain. I am sure she had alot of pain. I am also sure she caused alot of pain.

When she went into facility I was the only person on the team who never went to visit her. I just could not find the strength. It is a boundary. As a paid person I can be whatever and whoever she wants within the bounds of my employers rules. As a person, no. I cannot.

So here's to you Mrs. Everyone's business.
Long life well lived, on your own terms.

-------- *


Odd Website of the Day

Bard Woodcrafts Wandery
Purveyors of Fine Magic Wands

Alferian Gwydion MacLir, Wandmaker

It's not every day someone sends me a link like this thinking it to be of use to me.

--------- ;)



My Joy

I lick up lips for the last of the chocolate crumbs from the birthday cupcake that Allison & Ryan have brought me. I get such a kick out of them calling me: Mrs.
Noone told them any differently and I don't mind. It is sort of fun pretending to be my Mom!

It is the big chair for me today. Like on the Enterprise. I point at my crew and commandingly say: "Make it so!" My big black comfie office chair.

My joy today is working for the School as a Volunteer in the Office.
I toil not nor do I despair. It is all good. I work quite handily and enjoy every single aspect of it. If I were to get paid for this I would no doubt feel differently.

Christian Education has been good to me and I like to return the favour ala Pay it Forward. My time is far more valuable than my money. (what money?)

All the libling day shining happy faces come in and out asking for this and that, and oh how I love it. All God's children.

The only sour note is that somehow I managed to delete the Kindergarten class members in the Attendance programme. oops.

Hee hee
Nothing is unfixable. I will call support in a momentito.
First I must embrace my joy.



Coming to a Condo near you!


I reek of death.

As I walk past people in the shoppes I wonder if they can smell it on me. I wonder if they wonder what kind of bad perfume I use. Is it like garlic? Something that attachs it's odour to you and sticks? Perhaps there is no smell but I reek of it all the same. I come home to change my clothes and my attitude and put on some life.

Today, I came home to forget the tiny lady way out in the back of beyond who is dying from bladder cancer. I came home to forget the gentleman wasting away from disease and confidentially asking me if I know what he can do. You know: as in "what can I do...?" He isn't asking about someone coming to clean the rugs. He wants to know how he can make a gracious exit. I pretend not to know what he means.

As I pull into my parking spot I see my neighbour, in her early 50's, who has been off work with a bad back for six months. Now it seems that bad back is really a cancer that has metasicised to her spine. The primary went undetected despite examinations and regular mammograms. Her Doctor has told her anywhere from 18 months to 5 years. I downplayed it completely of course but I know very well if she could see what I see she wouldn't want those 5 years. Better to pop off quickly! The best thing I can think of to say is that we all get something but she and I know the names of our somethings.

Although she is very shaken, she wants to be strong and tells me quietly about our other neighbour who she feels very sorry about. Neighbour #2 has been given medicinal marijuana to control her pain and boost her appetite. She has ovarian cancer. Palliative.

My goodness--- it is everywhere.

We live in Paradise. We die in Paradise.
And I reek of it.


God's Garage Sale

This weekend, on my sole day off, I felt called to man a table at a Community Garage Sale on behalf of Christian Education. In my puny mind I was thinking: blow out some of this old equipment and make dollars for the School.

Here is what happened:

We had taken home a huge box of shoes left from last year by students.
Some were dirty but all were serviceable. I washed every pair in my frontloading washer and brought them all with me. I priced them at 50 cents a pair.
Around about 08:45am a very grungy looking chap walked over and was looking at the largest pair we had. He tried them on and fussed about and had my assistant look for another pair in the same size. It was 10 minutes of time for a $1 sale as he bought two pairs and then, threw his own shoes in the garbage. He thanked us very much and went on his way a happy man.

Two little girls showed up around 11am and were eyeballing the brandname sneakers in turquoise. They were absolutely without wear, and the one girl said to the other: "Darlene has a pair like that!!" This evidentally was a desirable thing and they both ooo-ed and aaaahed as we brought out another pair very similar obviously left behind by another Darlene-type girl. Another $1 sale and two very happy girls. They smiled and put a $5 bill in our donation jar and skipped away.

AS pasty-faced young man kept circling us looking at our monitors. They are the huge old fashioned kind but we want to keep them out of the landfill. He would go over to the side of the aisle, count his money and circle back around. On the 3rd circle I said to him: "2 for five bucks"?" Another sale.

A large box of magazines was priced to sell. A woman who had just finished the circuit stopped and said out loud: "Oh what a shame. I do scrapbooking with volunteers.... thats a great price but we would only be cutting them up. Can I come back and take a few..." Turns out she helps out with seniors and youth.
I told her to take the box and make a donation.
"I can't. I don't have any money left."
I handed her the School's card and told her to make a donation at some time in the future for Christian Education. She accepted that and put 52 cents in our jar and took the box.

We bundled everything else in my car and took it to the Thrift store.
I was thinking about it, and even if we were there only for the man who bought a backpack in perfect condition for $2 and then said: "it's a long walk over the Malahat" or the older lady who took cards and brochures and smiled at us and said "Bless you" God sure got it right.

It wasnt about money at all.
It was about helping.
Right on God!

---------- *
(We collected a grand total of $31 and some odd cents.)


Way, way too much fun!

(in which Ms. Pepperkinz takes a wicked, wicked turn)

Oh my what fun, what awfully fun, what fun we had today!

There continues to be change in healthcare or shall I say "Government-provided healthcare services" and the way in which they are administered. The scissors are trimming trimming trimming and although there are no new dollars for Nurses and Nursing services there are all kinds of dollars for high level administration.
Big brains thinking up big changes, to save imaginary dollars on the way to privitization. If you make the service shoddy enough, then people will scream for privitization.

We find Nurses leaving, and positions not being replaced. BSN positions are going to RNs. Oh the horror! Positions for 3 RNS being reposted as positions for 1RN and 2 LPNs. Just as predicted just as I thought change is wreaking havoc in the weak-minded. Now anyone with a modicum of insight could see the direction in which this government (I refuse to capitalise it) was headed so why the indignation?
That was for voting day. Missed the boat, people.

I had alot of mischieveous fun this week telling all my BsN and RN friends about a Supervisory position that is about to be reposted for LPN.
To a person, each Nursie said:
"WHAT? Oh that is ridiculous! How would an LPN know what to do? What if they are asked something important! It's a race to the bottom!"

Only Nurses are blindered to the idea that people other than Nurses might actually have good ideas and abilities for teammleading and teambuilding.

I know it was evil of me but it was alot of fun.
So very predictable.

and on election day I will stand outside the polling stations wearing my uniform and watch as they all march in to place their marks beside who?

Everyone wants to be rich here.
Noone wants to pay the piper though.

Gonna be a Bear !

This just in!

--handed to me by the ever wonderful Donna B.



In this life I am a woman.
In my next life I'd like to come back as a bear.
When you are a bear, you get to hibernate.
You do nothing but sleep for six months. I could deal with that!

Before you hibernate, you are supposed to eat yourself stupid.
I could deal with that, too!

WHen you're a girl bear, you birth your children, who are the size of walnuts, while you're sleeping, and wake up to partially grown, cute, cuddly cubs.
I could definitly deal with that!

If you're a mamma bear, you swat anyone who bothers your cubs.
If your cubs get out of hand, you swat them too.
I could deal with that.

If you're a bear, your mate expects you to wake up growling.
He expects that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat.

YEP!! I'm gonna be a bear!

---------------- (copied from the Senior's centre bulletin board in Rimbey, Alberta)



--am already a bear!



The 90s

As more and more of my clients are in their 90s and continuing to live well, it is inevitable that as I get to know them better I really get to know them better.
People have always shared with me the most intimate of things, and as I get older I find I know more and more secret, and not so secret things.

There was the woman who was visiting her Mother and walked in on us chatting.
"Oh," I said, "You Mom was just telling me the name of the ship that brought her over from Scandanavia."

"Mom doesn't know that!"

Apparantly Mom had never told the daughter that, but it was there in her memory.
Things spill out at all sorts of times. One moment you are chatting about the weather and the next you are hearing about Uncle James who molested her at age 7 or Uncle Bill who taught her how to ride the bike before he went off to war and was killed, or Aunt Marg, the closet drinker. Everything!

This phenomema happens to movie actors as well. They are forced together for intense (but brief) months and form (artifical) intimacies that are unnaturally quick. Then they go on to the next film and another brief intense intimacy.
Makes a person rather fickle I think, ultimatly.
For me, it makes me unshockable.
I am disgustable, but truly unshockable.

Lately more and more of the 90 year old + clients are telling me about their tiredness. They really are tired. My very favourite glamourella caught me at the door of the apartment when I was there for someone else and that is exactly what she said. "I am just getting tired now."

Then she said:
"Can you imagine me in a few years? I'll be this way."
And she made the horizontal sign.

Will I be able to make light-hearted remarks when I am older?
I hope so.
I do not believe in my heart of hearts that I ever will get much older.

---- *

Strange Associations

Turner Classic Movies.
My guilty pleasure au jour.

Today a profound sense of deja-vu as a film was rolling.
Transported instantly to Commercial Drive in Vancouver, to the Theatre that showed double features; art films if you will. It was Ingmar Bergman night and the film was "The Seventh Seal."

Having just recently done a complete cold turkey withdrawal from misprescribed medications, and a tweaking on newly prescribed ones, I was not at my finest.
In fact, I was quite sure everything was all right until, routinely, I would fall asleep. Anywhere, anytime. This of course was a new thing to me and rather delightful as I had endured long years of insomnia and any sleep beyond 4 hours uninterupted was in the realm of fairyland for me.

"The Seventh Seal" was of course, subtitled, and somewhere in the whole Knight and Death chess match thing, I snoozled off. Naturally I had nightmares of the apocolyptic type, and when I awakened it was to the gentle shaking of the conciege.
Everyone else was gone, egad.

This was better than the night I woke up with my head of someones shoulder.; his girlfriend, oblivious on the other side...

Watching the Seventh Seal again was an odd experience.
All those strange associations I kinda almost sorta have.
Bergman stated in an interview that the film had helped him overcome his fear of death, perhaps it did the same for me.
Quelle bizarre.

"And when he had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour."
(Revelation 8:1)



It has been a long time since I experienced a true flashback.
At times, quite often in fact, I have deja-vu. Not the same at all.

The television was on and highlights of the week were being played.
Sports it was.
Seattle Mariners reliever Rafael Soriano took a ball in the head.
He fell over and lay on the mound.
As his hand went to his head, mine went to my head too.

I was out of my mind for a moment or two and I heard my voice saying:
"I can't watch this, I can't."
The television was off and I was halfway up the stairs before I could take my hand off my head.

I went to bed immediatly.
Slept for 4 hours in the daytime.

The impact on my head... I felt it in that moment.
I remember the sensation absolutely clearly.
Funny how something that I had forgotten for so long, until it became evident that SOMETHING had damaged my neck and spine.... something BIG....
funny that it could come back to me now in a perfect memory unbeckoned, unwanted.

If not for Geraldine McCann I would be dead.
She is the one who yelled for me to look up.
If not for my God-given common sense I would have bled out.
Not even my School Principal could get my hands off my head.
They were clasped over the injury.

That wham and thud... I hope the pitcher is all right.


Panic in my Living Room!!!

Its the end of a long week.
I reward myself by embodying my virtual self the elf.
Just as I am about to undertake a quest my monitor flickers, and then dims completely. I realise that the hissing sound is coming from my computer.
From my monitor.
An unpleasant smell hangs in the air. Like burning gas.

I am up, out of my chair and half-way out the door before I realise I have to power down, and must go back to do that.

It's been 45 minutes.
I have hooked up my secondary computer's monitor.
My heartrate is still waaaaay too high.

Darn it all.
I only had my 19" flatscreen for 4 years.
(Of constant usage)

Good Morning God!

Good Morning God!

You are ushering in another day
Untouched and freshly new
So here I come to ask You, God,
If You'll renew me too.
Forgive the many errors
That I made yesterday

And let me try again, dear God,
To walk closer in Thy way...
But, Father I am well aware
I can't make it on my own
So take my hand and hold it tight
For I can't walk alone.

Helen Steiner Rice