Speaking of spirals:

A few echos this week.
Spirals of power.
Spirals of shame.
Spiral staircases.
Odd.

Power is delicate to wield.
You can crush it so easily.

Shame ricochets back and forth without bidding.

And staircases:
I always wanted a spiral staircase even though I had seen "The Haunting", the original B & W version with Claire Bloom, which is as good an advertisment NOT to have one as any.

Whilst eating my french toast and bacon as it my wont on Fridays, I ran into a gentleman from the church. He is a really cool guy.
Older and wiser than me of course.
I asked him how he was doing and he told me he was in the middle of building another home, having sold his last dreamhome for a tidy profit.
"My address is the God #"

apparantly 777 is God's perfect number.
At least my gentleman friend so believes.
(God's magic number is 137 btw, as any physicist (and kaballah) knows...)
That, I could comment on, but it would take a few thousand blogs.

"I just put in a spiral staircase."

--- cue twilight zone music ----

Tempus Fuggit

Ah, tempus fuggit.
Yes, yes I do know it is FUGIT.

Tempus fugit is a Latin expression meaning "time flees", more commonly translated as "time flies". I think I like the flees better.

Lately, I have spelled that phrase consistently wrong.
*Dr. Freud? Can you bring Jung with you this call please?"

It does encapsulate my thinking nicely tho.
Screw time.
It's an illusion anyway.

(on a related note):
My guest leaves in two days and then I can wind all the clocks up again.
I seem to have broken both clocks with Westminster chimes.
My handyman dropped one, and I was very nonchalant as I did not yet know my clock maker was no longer in the area.
I had an estimate on the repair by one of his competitors.
$300 IF he can get the parts.
My former clockman MADE parts he couldn't find.
Of course now he has departed this mortal coil for the great corkscrew in the sky.

Drat it all.
Pesky time.
In the way again.

Time hanging in the air.

She looks pretty darned good for a woman in her 90s.
She looks great.
That is part of the trouble, I expect, that looking great thing.

She sits in her own home, where she has lived since retirement.
Her husband died long ago but she feels they had a good run.
She took up gardening and painting and needlework and she has examples of her fine workmanship all around. Today, however, the biggest challenge is just staying motivated to be alive.

Old age can be very cruel.
It takes the things we cherish.
Possibly this is God's way of getting us to let go of the life we love above all.
It sure works, at any case.

She can't hold or wringe out a facecloth.
She can't turn a doorknob, or a radio button.
She cannot sew, cook, clean, or do any sort of art.

I can help, but just in the moment.
After I leave, she has the entire day to fill.

"They loom before me, every second hangs on for so long."

That temporal mystery again.
I do recall feeling the same way after my head injury.
For me, it was gazing into an endless hall of mirrors, seeing reflections and reflections of reflections...
It was hell. If I had to stare down infinity every day still, I would have long ago gone to meet it voluntarily.
Yet here is the opposite problem. And yet so very familiar.
Time hanging.

Spiral of Power

He walked to the backdoor with the watering can in his hand.
He went out and patiently watered every single pot and plant in the garden with many trips to the hose.

When we were not paying attention he opened the front door and went out to water the sole plant that hangs by the door.
There is no screendoor at the front and when he opened the door both small dogs raced past him and out the door to the busy ringroad in the townhouse complex. Out, out they ran across the lawns and driveways, to the main road.
One thought better of it and returned.
The other would be chien ala squish if even one car had been near.

"Get in the house or I will clobber you" he called.
He laughed.
"Come on you bad dogs get in here or I'll thrash you"
He laughed again like it was some great joke.
"That's right, I will thrash you to within an inch of your life."
"haha, of course I wouldn't do that! I love my doggies."

I have to tell you. I stood there frozen.
It was definitly NOT funny to me.
I looked at my sister.
"Takes you right back, doesn't it?" I asked.
"Yup", she said.

New-to-Me

So many charming people, so little time.
Sometimes I get lucky and actually have the time.
This week I got very lucky.

A cancellation resulted in my getting a new-to-me person.
This person is 97 years old. It is considered to be respite for the family that live with her. The family member met me at the door and told me that her parent would be annoyed as I was not the *regular* girl.
She told me that her parent was terribly deaf and it was very difficult to communicate with her.

I smiled and thought "I dont think so" but I keep such things to myself.
I love love love elderly people and have done so since I was a little girl.
My grandmother was in her 60s when I was born.
The years we grew closer she was in her 80s.
I enjoyed her and her friends more than my own.
Of course mine had the disadvantage of being in their teens.
Hers had long lifetimes.
Such interesting women.
And so willing to share their stories.

Of course this older lady reminded me so much of Grama even though she was Scottish and my Grama was as English as they come.
She shared so many wonderful things with me.
Then I asked her:
"What are you planning for your 100th birthday?"
She looked me in the eye and laughed.
Then she pointed at the ground.

I have to admit I laughed too.
SO very honest.

"I've had a good life. I am ready."

Bless her 97 year old heart.

Part the 2nd of fife

Today I heard part the 2nd before her shower:

"away I go with fife and drum
here we come, full of rum."

The family was as surprised as I was.
What a cute little rhymne.


----

Just a little bit of research and I found this:


The North Atlantic Squadron chorus:
" Away, away, with fyfe and drum,
Here we come, full of rum,
Looking for women to pat on the bum
In the North Atlantic Squadron"

----

I am sure its a variant on some traditional song or t'other.

"The Omen."

A wonderful lady of my acquaintence has been telling increasingly more fanciful tales to us about all sorts of things. Hidden amidst the fantasies are grains of truths. Sifting through the sands is too time-consuming so I just listen.
Every now and then she gets off a zinger.
This week her zinger turned out to be a portent.
An ominious omen.

It was the end of my visit, and the lady was describing some gentleman who had gained her disfavour.

"I told him, 'Bah, you're full of prunes.' "

Almost choking on my own spittle, I must have laughed for ten minutes.
What a great insult. Full of prunes.

So my day done I carry on to my private life.
I have a guest from afar staying with me for 18 days.
This guest has a language and cultural barrier but a willingness to learn and partake of family events. We went to my father's home and enjoyed a fine dinner with a few other of my family members.

Suddenly, (and without warning) my guest is in the hallway, frantically making signs my way. I did not quite understand until I realised it was the bathroom she was pointing at.

Apparantly the last person to use the facilities neglected to notice that the toilet paper was almost out. My guest decided that the kleenex box on the toilet tank was obviously meant to be used in lieu of.

It was a dreadful disaster and noone at all volunteered to help.
Strangely they all seemed to either fall asleep or be busy until my plunging mopping and disinfecting was done. ---yuk

So I was the one full of prunes.
---------------------------------------- !


(even worse, I came home, showered and cleansed myself, washed my clothes and logged on to relax in T2t and was killed in the Lothlorien Warcamp by Amearn. I did not even notice he had backstabbed me. The prunes I suppose, got in the way.)

The Big Pills.

The big pills are orange.
They are almost as big as the green calcium ones so many of our clients take, but are even denser. The big pills look to me like they could choke an oliphaunt and yet they are prescribed for a small, thin, elderly woman who must take them four times a day.

The big pills must be taken at set intervals for a prescribed length of time.
Missing a dose here or there can result in the condition for which the pills are being prescribed continuing to thrive in its host body.

The big pills are self-administered and our employees just check in on things to make sure things stay in sync. Apparantly, we have been remiss in our duties.
There were more than seven of the big pills laying about here there and everywhere.

No wonder people do not get better on demand.
Not that they ever did, but the odds are always better when it's good medicine.

----------- *

Permission to go ashore, Sir!

We all seek approval. We all need permission for things we have trouble with.
Over and over again, I see those at the brink of death hover.
The body is done, but the spirit keeps the person going.

Many times in this situation, all that is needed is for someone to give the dying person permission to leave this earth.

One such gentleman is of my acquaintence now.
He continues to defy all logic and medicine by remaining alive.
He has lost 100 pounds and a limb, his hair and most of his strength and yet, he lives on, months after his prognosis deemed it impossible.

Today I gently suggested to his wife that she should consider giving him permission to go.

"I don't know what you mean, dear."

"Many times", said I, "People seem to stay around because they are worrying about their spouses and loved ones."

"Yes", she agreed, "he always tells the Doctor he worries about me."

I will continue to suggest this to her and perhaps one day soon she will hear what I am saying. Meantimes, a frail gentle man lies quietly, worrying.

------- *

Memory Surge

Listening to a song when --suddenly--

It was a November evening. Rain, as always, made the pavement even greyer than it was. I had two tickets in my pocket. One was for the show at the Commodore. It was four Seattle bands. One was for the Pump. It was the Meat Puppets.

The crowd was sparse; the 3 piece had not yet hit the stratosphere.
Cris and Curt... long hair headbanging and that speedy guitar thing goin on.
I was seized by joy and was right up there by the stage belting out
" maybe they had a ridiculous statement to make about something they hadn't experienced, possibly sam had a different opinion that nobody'd ever considered important"

--- at least I think I was almost wrapping my lips around that.
I was laughing at how badly I was garbling things.
I heard a chuckle in my ear and looked over.
The other Kurt was right beside me doing the same.

I had forgotten that.
People had asked me before where we met. People who knew anyway.
I could never remember. I wondered if I was inebriated at the time.
But I heard "Sam" on my MP3 player and I was right back there.

oooo sometimes.

--------------------

I never successfully did street drugs of any kind, (she says sadly).
It was said that many of those tunes by the Puppets were chemically enhanced musings. Listening to "Sam" again with the warp speed thing going on, it isn't hard to believe. I always had the *other* problem. Way too much adrenilin.
They had to do speeders to keep up.
;)

--------

Away I go with fife and drum!

And with that, she ambled off to have her (very private) shower.

Never let it be said my powers of persuasion are anything but formidable.






---------------- *

The Auctioneer

It was held in a beautiful old victorian style mansion.
Ever room held treasures; the entire contents of the home were being sold off.
The more I looked I more I saw.
The more I saw, the more I was dazzled.
Everything of such quality!

It came time for the sale to begin and I winded my way up one of the back staircases. Being naturally curious I checked out the circuitry on the wall by a servants entry. Now this isn't like the time I was touring the huge cable company and had the overwhelming compulsion to pull a switch or two cutting service to the Island South off... no no. This was more like: Let's pull this switch and see what happens.

I pulled it.
The sound of mechanical gears could be heard, even above the din of so many people and gradually they hushed and looked up. The panels were receding and a little shelf was visible almost to the ceiling. It wound all around almost every room.
Then, to my surprise, and most everyone elses I am sure, a little train came roaring out from somewhere and went zipping around room to room. I only had enough time to melt into another room before the Auctioneers helpers came bounding up to see whodunnit.

They came up all right and then, inevitably I was busted.
They walked up and I was pretty ready to plead insanity.
"When does the auction start?"

They looked at me.
"Whenever you call the first lots ma'am."

And they handed me a microphrone.
Trains?
Auctions?
Stealth mischief?

Yes. When twilight fades and night begins, my eyes close and off I go.
Somewhere.....

Quelle Bizarre (O)

All righty. It may be Spring or Summer or whatever but...
Into the files of the bizarre comes the following.

I am ready for beddiebye-byes when suddenly the telephone rings.
As it is 22:00 hours I foolishly pick it up.
A *friend* from a few years ago calling.
This (male) friend is calling to give me a heads up that another friend is going to ask me out. But is too scared to and asked for help on how to do it.

I just am not answering the telephone, I am letting the machine take it.

---ack

These are nice Christian (screwed up divorced and royally introspective) boys.
Naturally I want nothing to do with them.
Don't want to hurt anyone's feelings though.

I thought I was the only one with a bad case of the wishful thinking.
Jeepers.

------ *

DNTO had a great show today. Sook-Yin Lee did a reprise of "The Rejection Show."

They of course had a segment on the rejection show.
Go see it
How appropo.

What was in the box?

okay....

I watched "kiss me deadly" just now on Turner classics movie.
The second it ended, my telephone rang.
My sister asking me exactly what I was thinking:

"What was in that box?"

ok I know I am the writer of the worlds most uncommented on blog.
I know you read me but you don't write me.

But what was in the box?
Shades of repo-man.

Clutter Clutter everywhere but not a drop to clean...

Saw Patsy today with one of her gorgeous daughters.
She was in the Thrift same as I.
Her husband was having a garage sale she said.
He had had enough with the jumbo storage under the house thing....
2500 square feet of it...

Patsy has an excuse; she owns an antique store.

I, on the other hand, no longer own a shoppe.
I cleaned my room, almost, sortof, kinda, today.
Did the laundry at least.
Walked the dog twice.

But oh I have to really definitly totally clear an area in my teeny weeny living room as ____someoneinmyfamily___ wants me to get my piano back.
Its a monster.
A 1923 Heintzmann upright grande.

This means goodbye to the big comfie couch.
I can only have the sleek black leather one now.
The overstuffed chair will have to make up for it.

I do love my piano but in 954 sf it is a challenge.

------------ *

Nightmares

I went to bed last night determined to sleep off any lingering pharmaceuticals in my system. I was looking at a funny little deck of cards I bought at Chapters for $3.99 called Good Witch, Bad Witch, reading a Vanity Fair, and People simultaneously and sipping my cranberry juice when I fell off to sleep.

I awakened at 2am with the distinct thought I must forget my dream IMMEDIATLY.
It was one of those angels and demons thing.

Then this morning, I woke up convinced I had been in a strip bar last night watching female strippers.... from Macedonia.
Morgostas this is your fault. Telling me about those biker boy parties.
My doggie brought me back to reality. Looking around I see my covers in a complete heap, and about 14 books on the bed.

Jeepers.

------- +

We don't get out much, you know....

This is a story; a TRUE story about my father and me in Calgary.

We don't get out much anymore, even though we are from a big city.
We live in a little city now. Very white. Very quiet. Not much ethnicity goin on around here.

We arrived at Calgary Airport mid-morning and immediatly hailed a cab.
The driver was a nice-looking man in his 40's or so with an accent that I could not quite place. He was quite chatty; telling us that Canada was in for big trouble in the future and we would see war in our lifetimes over water. My dad raised his eyebrows and then the driver said: "Don't you read your bible? You know what is coming. It is the end of the world, my friend. And we are living in it."

Now this of course is Dad's forte, being the son of a Preacher-man, he can talk apocolyse with the best of 'em. I on the other hand was not real interested in such a heavy topic in a cab so I asked the driver:
"What country are you originally from? I am trying to place your accent but I can't."

He laughed.
"LOOK AT ME. Where do you think I am from?"

I hate those kind of games. I am really bad at guessing.
"Come on", he said, "Guess."

I looked at him. He was darker than caucasian but not much.
He could be Mediterrean, he could be Jewish, he could by Egyptian....
I dont know....

"Come on," he insisted, "Guess!"

Dad asked him if he was from Africa.

"YES! Smart man!"

We guessed Nambia, South Africa, Egypt, Libya, Chad, Sudan....
finally he said: "Here is a hint. It is near the horn."

Dad, the old salt immediatly said: "Aha Ethiopia!"

They congratulated each other and then, it happened.
Dad looked him in the eye and said:
"SO what church do you attend?"

The driver smiled.
"I am Moslem. Have you heard of us?"



---------


Now this would be a good story even if it stopped there.
But it did not.
My dad then said:
"Are you going to chop our heads off now?"

----------------

Yup.
That's my dad!
Bless him for his honesty and saying what everyone else is thinking.
I am thankful we had such a good-hearted driver.
His name was Massan.
Bless you Massan.

Overcoming myself

Upon circumspection, I have concluded that I am not a hater. I simply am a person who is in the process of overcoming myself.

Recently, I flew in an airplane.
This needed to be clarified as I am a frequent night flier in my dreams.
It has been many years since I last got on a plane, by choice.
I HATE FLYING. It is so unnatural.
On the upside, a death in a plane would likely be quick and painless. You wouldn't even have time to feel it once the crash occurred. Still, the idea is painful to me.

To have flown in the company of family, and not admit to being terrified required pharmaceutical intervention. Even so, my sister who picked us up from the airport on the return flight mentioned that I looked like death warmed over slightly.
If she only knew...

Obstacle #2 was co-habiting a hotel room with MY EX.
This was a terrible mistake even if there were two bedrooms and 2 other people both of my family alongside. Never ever make that mistake. 5 days of it.....


So I am not a hater.
I am an overcomer.

Go me!!


---------------

Haters

Had a strange experience this last week.
It may well be I am turning into a hater.

Sadly.

Whatever you do, don't chop my tree down!

"I was born the same year that tree out there was planted."

I was fascinated by my elderly client who had a unique knowledge of the area.
He measured everything by trees.
He was ailing, and his family was circling. He held a large property which he regarded as a trust of sorts. He was a steward of the land.

The sands of time slip quickly through and he could almost count the ones he had left. Although he was closing in on a century he was so vital in every way except one: he had high blood pressure. The Doctor read him the riot act about gardening.

I was sitting with him one evening as he was cataloging the different native species in his bog. One parcel of his land was a marsh, which he absolutely adored.
Not so the family.

I heard him telling the grandsons and great-grandsons about the tree that shared his birthday. "Whatever you do don't chop my tree down."

He succumbed to a fatal stroke a few months ago.
The tree succumbed to an axe not long after.

I heard along the grapewine the marsh flooded the house where the grandson took up residence.

----------------- *

Excessive bon-bons

ooo too much of too much!

I was wallowing all week as crunchy foods are out of the question atm.
I ate a creme horn. mmm
I ate three vanilla custard creme slices. mmmm
I ate 4 chocolate bars. mmmm
I ate....
and ate...

and now:

I am digesting.

Something I want to remember:

After my orgy of anger, in which I justified myself through Helene who said: "Even Christ got angry at the market in the temple" I have come to see once again, that being right is not enough. Not good enough at least.
I am capable of better things.

Today I stopped in to visit a dear friend who was calling me all weekend.
I, of course was not home. Or at least, not answering.
Her beautiful daughters were home and telling their mother and me all about life as a teen in 2006. I try to relate but it has been too long and I am so very amused by the preening and hesitations of the lovely young girls.

The younger was talking about another girl in her set who was very bitter and nasty.
She was putting down another girl.
My friends daughter had enough and so she grabbed the arm of the gossiper and said:
"HEY, don't hate: appreciate !"

Cool little mantra I was thinking. Very cool.
Then my friends daughter turned and pointed at me.


"I learned that FROM YOU !"

Glory hallelujah saints be praised!

I suppose I am not all bad after all.
YAY!
Affirmations!
--- *

More inappropriate placements

If you could see what I see!

=-------------------- !!!

Analgoue me in the digital world....

Oh!

Possibly unreasonable....

It was suggested to me that possibly my position on volunteer work is unreasonable.

Of course this makes no sense at all to me.
If I worked somewhere and there was a large amount of boxed items sitting waiting to be dropped off somewhere: somewhere I would drive past every day, I would take a box or two or five a day every day.

Of course this attitude is unreasonable.
How much more sensible to walk past it and complain about the uppity volunteer who does nothing. Yes. Much more sensible.

bah

Thankless Enterprises

I gave my time as much as I was able; even more than I was comfortable with, yet this was not enough.

There are paid staff to deal with things but no, it is volleyed back to me again and again.

I am out-of-sorts.
Thank you apparantly is a phrase that has gone out of style.

or at least without disclaimers and caveats....

next year I will say this:
"I can give you 8 hours or my time. Or I can donate $100. Take your choice."

Not feeling very godlike right now...
It's not that I require syncophantry about... I just want to feel appreciated.
It is a huge thing for me to make time where there is none particularly to be with crowds of people. Something I avoid mostly...

(sigh)

The Remains

Since allergies have made gardening unthinkable and shopping unbearable, since pharmaceuticals have turned me into a beholden pauper, my living room is my chief dwelling. The joys of television are mine at last.

This channel Turner Classics has proven to be a very decent thing indeed. There are no commercials to disturb my enjoyment of movies. I have just watched my favourite Merchant-Ivory, "The Remains of the Day." In a similar vein I enjoyed Altman's "Gosford Park" but for pure acting ability it is impossible to beat Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson.
Impossible.

------ ----- ----- *

Deeply Moved

My private client died this week. She went in comparative comfort.
The family funeral and after arrangements were woven around my schedule.
That was profoundly moving.

We went to the cemetary and I sneezed quietly into my elbow as the floatillion of flowers adorned her lowering.

Farewell my dear.

Twas grande

Show was great!

I do believe I get better as I get older.
There have to be some perks to this aging thing... besides wisdom.

Now if I could just stop my sweat glands from overproducing....
I drank about 3 litres of fluid in 2 hours.

Days like yesterday when the show is on a beautiful professionally lit stage, and the crew is so very competant, I long to do theatre once more.

But every day is not like that, nor every show.
And after hundreds of them, how well I know that.

But hey, yesterday was great!
I was cool calm and controlled and most of all, I had a great time.

----

Strictly Canadian

Okay I have to comment on the arrests this week of the suspected terrorists.

They allegedly were plotting to storm the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa and behead the Prime Minister.

Now that is truly Canadian!
We don't have bullets you know...

--------------------- *

Zootime, is she and you time

SPARKS' 2006 European Summer Concerts

June 17 Sky Music Festival: Glasgow, Scotland
www.skyemusicfestival.co.uk/
Day Tickets £40
Weekend Tickets £75
Online Bookiing: www.ticketweb.co.uk
Telephone Booking: 08700 600 100

July 14 Summercase Festival: Barcelona, Spain
www.summercase.com/
Tickets: 85 Euros

July 15 Summercase Festival: Madrid, Spain
www.summercase.com/
Tickets: 85 Euros

July 16 Guilfest: Guilford, England
The festival runs from Friday July 14th to Sunday July 16
Festival Website: www.guilfest.co.uk/../
Day and weekend tickets available - £40, Under 16s - £25
Weekend Adult: £85, Weekend and Camping Adult: £95, Camper Van: £70
Weekend Under 16’s: £50, Weekend and Camping Under 16’s: £60, Under 12’s: free
Online Booking: www.guilfest.co.uk/2006/../
Telephone Booking: 01483 454159
Email: info@guilfest.co.uk
August 4 Wickham Festival, Fareham Hampshire, England
http://www.wickhamfestival.co.uk/
Ticket price £22.50 (+ agency booking fee)
Box Office: 01329 231942
Online Booking: www.ticketsouth.co.uk
Festival Website: www.wickhamfestival.co.uk

August 5 The Big Chill, Malvern Hills, England
www.bigchill.net/../
Address: Eastnor Castle Deer Park, Malvern Hills, Herefordshire
Adult weekend tickets £120
13-16 year-olds £60, under-12’s free
Camper vans £40
Available from www.bigchill.net
Online Booking: www.bigchill.net/../
Telephone Booking: 020 7684 2020

September 1 Electric Picnic, Stradbally Hall, Co Laois, Ireland
There is just one type of ticket this year which is a weekend ticket that
includes camping. (There are no day tickets.) Tickets are €175 which is for
three days plus camping.
Telephone & Internet bookings subject to €5.95 service charge.
Agents €2 per ticket handling charge.
Campervan Tickets are €60 for access to a specifically designated campervan park. These Campervan Tickets are now sold out.
www.ticketmaster.ie
Credit Card Hotline
Ph. 0818 719300 (Eire)
Ph.0870 534 4444 (N.I./U.K)
Ph. +353 1 4569569 (Int.)
September 27 Elysee Montmartre, Paris, France
72 Boulevard de Rochechouart, 75018, PARIS, France
www.elyseemontmartre.com
September 28 Bristol Colston Hall
No.: 0117 922 3686
Web: www.colstonhall.org
Tickets: £25.00
Doors: 7.30pm
September 30 London Forum
No : 08700 600 100
Tickets : £25.00
Web : www.meanfiddler.com / www.seetickets.com
Doors : 7.00pm
October 1 Brighton Dome
No.: 01273 709 709
Web: www.brightondome.org
Tickets: £25.00, £22.50
Doors: 7.15pm
October 3 Civic Hall: Wolverhampton, England
No.: 01902 552 121
Web: www.wolvescivic.co.uk
Tickets: £25.00
Doors: 7.30pm
October 4 Corn Exchange: Cambridge, England
No.: 01223 357 851
Web: www.cornex.co.uk
Tickets: £25.00
Doors: 6.45pm
October 5 ABC: Glasgow, Scotland
No : 0870 169 0100
Web : http://gigsinscotland.com
Doors : 7.00 pm



SPARKS' 2006 European Summer Concerts


------------------ * -----------------------
Zoo time is she and you time
The mammals are your favourite type, and you want her tonight
Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat
You hear the thunder of stampeding rhinos, elephants and tacky tigers
This town ain't big enough for both of us
And it ain't me who's gonna leave

Flying domestic flying
And when the stewardess is near do not show any fear
Heartbeat increasing heartbeat
You are a khaki-coloured bombadier it's Hiroshima that you're nearing
This town ain't big enough for both of us
And it ain't me who's gonna leave

Daily, except for Sunday
You dawdle in to the cafe where you meet her each day
Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat
As twenty cannibals have hold of you, they need their protein just like
you do
This town ain't big enough for both of us
And it ain't me who's gonna leave

Shower, another shower
You've got to look your best for her and be clean everywhere
Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat
The rain is pouring on the foreign town, the bullets cannot cut you down

This town ain't big enough for both of us
And it ain't me who's gonna leave

~ ~

Census, the latest census
There'll be more girls who live in town though not enough to go round
Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat
You know that:
This town isn't big enough,
not big enough for both of us
This town isn't big enough,
not big enough for both of us
And I ain't gonna leave!

We are Borg (?)

I am Three of Fourteen.
Next door behind me, my triple digit neighbour seems to have a new.... someone or other who is hell bent to keep that grass trim and the noise level intolerable.

All right, perhaps I am the only drone who detests the drone of the mower.

What was so bad about the native flora here that some assinine notion for green lawns became the cultural norm? I know there are even laws on the books of some city councils to ensure a tidy front yard.

Only humans could possibly be so stupid as to promote the natural greenery as *weeds* and the foreign one achievable only by poisoning the ground, as desirable.

It's insane!
Driving through the city you see all those proud people with their little spray cans doing an ethnic vegetative cleanse. One little poison, one little toxin, one little ounce of bounce.... and look how green and lovely it all is.
Are you wearing a mask? No? No matter, the earthworms aren't either.
And one little chain at a time it moves on up the food chain.

You go to a "nature park" to see what would happen naturally but in your own yard you fight the endless battles. Eradicate a few species of insect. Pour insecticides into the ground water. Complain when you get cancer.

oh and mostly:

You hear it everywhere.
"I don't know what is wrong with me. I feel awful."

Well I know what is wrong with me and you and the whole bloody lot of us.
We are insane.

When we are assimilated I do not think it will take more than ten seconds.
What possible technology can we offer?

Perhaps we will introduce the concept of *humour*.

God knows we are to be pitied.

further to that...

Ouch!

I am deeply, profoundly unhappy.
My pain tolerance is officially zero now.

If I could go back in time to the moment of my accident, would it change anything if I could avoid being hit?

Would fate demand it's toll making me get the same injury in another way?

Today I do not much care why it hurts.
puzzling things through on drugs does not work either.
All that happens is that I get sadder and sadder while the pain is somewhat numbed.

That explosion behind my eyeballs....
I see starbursts in my head.
The pulse is right there like a foehammer.

A dwarven warhammer perhaps even. Complete with wargs guarding it.
Finally, a unique!
(That was a MUD joke. The DWH is anything but unique except that you can only get one per character, per uptime.)
(okay I know you don't care but I do.)

When I first started online, I had a terrible bout of pneumonia.
It was probably the closest I ever came to not recovering.
Oh yes, we call it death.
I sat in my chair and some kind little soul from florida chatted away online at me, to distract me from my puffing wheezing and choking. Kellyn. I remember you.

Now I am not at deaths door but I am in the Lake of Fire.
The MUD personas can't cut it for me on this one.

Pound
Pound
pound

A titanium jaw is only cool without the arthritis.
Oh, and it has to work too.
----

Bitter irony department.

Client to me:
"You have such a beautiful smile."

Definitly .... got it!

Some people just have a gift for words.
case in point:



---- !

Evil evil evil

Walked into my first client of the day.
"Are you in pain?"

They asked me!
Jeepers, I am very poor at pretense.

I almost called in sick today due to pain but my clients ....
they are likely in more pain than I am.
I even wore lots of make-up today which, come to think of it, may have tipped them off. I do believe I had once told the client that whenever I am wearing make-up it generally means either I am off to do some public function -or- I am feeling awful.

My second client asked me if I was in a bad mood.
"You're not singing today."

I stopped and got some tynlenol.
For all the good it did....

Soon, very soon, in fact only months from now, this whole re-do will be in the past.
The process is torturous at times.
I know alot of people think I am doing this for vanity's sake but they have no idea what severe TMJ is like. If I do not wear my jig at night, my jaw locks. My teeth break. And if my jaw locks, I have to take some pretty heavy medication to make it through.

Before I knew it was TMJ disorder I had seven root canals done,.....
That's right: seven! --and--- one of those seven was done above the jawline surgerically by an oral surgeon who charged $1800 which was not covered by any dental plan.

The pain came back and the surgeon then told me that more surgery was indicated.
The treatment course chosen for me was supposed to be two years in duration.
It cost just about $7000
We are at 2 years and 6 months now.
The end is not quite in sight.
--sigh---

Some days are fine. Some days I hardly notice.
And then I will experience a set-back.
Some days if I had a loaded gun I would shoot myself in the jaw.

Today it is a good thing there are no guns around.

Today I wish I had some of that whatever it is they give me when it locks.
It's a drag.

And now it's his turn....

Not long ago I was visiting a glady for a brief time and was struck by the strength of the family support system. A 60 year marriage. Children who moved home to help her through the final transition... real good solid people and it was an honour and a privilege to be of assistance.

Today I returned to the home.
Today it is the gentleman's turn.

Family is everything. Perhaps not relatives, but family for sure is everything.
---------

You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them. ~Desmond Tutu

Highly Distractable

To date or not to date.

I suppose a woman who can't even clean up should not date.

Springtime. On stage.
Somehow, whenever I do an event there is always someone, generally a man, who comes out of the woodwork to tell me some bland banal compliment. I am always surprised to think that it takes an event for them to realise my fabulousness.
hmph

Just because I am old and round and merry doesn't mean I am not highly desirable.
Alas, I am also highly distractable.
Attention span of a flea. As regards dating.

Speaking with a friend, "a friend" and was assured that I should be dating.
"Come on", he said. "You know you want to."

Well... I supppose I will do the obvious and wait to see who approaches me after "the event." Lordie, how lame is that?

Creativity & Chaos

A firm link exists between the need for order and a chaotic mind.
Interestingly, the creative process seems to overwhelm the cleaning process in my case. All this thinking.... (no lint today either)

Doug with a hug used to say: "Orderly things amuse disorderly minds"
and I am sure it was me he was thinking of when he taped it to his fridge.

Puzzling over things can take me away from everything and everyone.
Another person of my acquaintence who had a head injury also finds it insufferable to be in the company of others for long. Like me, he can drift off into a contemplative state and forget dishes, laundry, dinner. Unlike me, he does not have anyone else to worry about that can force you to attend to such things.

Walking in my door today, I remember thinking yesterday when time was all I had, that I chose not to do anything about the chaos within. I wanted to read and think and read and not think. As my door opened I looked down the long hall to the living room and felt some small shame. Can this really be MY house?

A few months ago I scalded my arm whilst cooking for a family event. I was so into what I was doing I didn't even feel it. Two days went by until another Nurse grabbed me and said: "Jeez put a dressing on that, would you?"
I was genuinely surprised to see a large patch by my elbow with one dismal pink layer of skin left. THEN I felt it. Believe me.

Left to my own devices and desires, with a sufficient income, I suspect I would be the cat lady. Except: I don't care for cats. They are the spawn of Satan... aliens from another planet. The advance guard of invaders....

Not cats but perhaps I would be surrounded by chocolates and books never emerging from my chaos.

Parallel lives.

A few of those cat-lady types are folk I visit.
I see myself. Oh dear.

----------
Everybody thought I was a bit of an eccentric for wanting to be out there looking at the stars, but I still do.
Brian May

Awake, awash in life

Up I am to take on the day.
There is a tsunami in my mind.

Opening my eyes, I remember that, my long ago.
I listen to others speaking about times and people and I think:

"Just because you say something repeatedly, does not make it true.
Or rather, it does not make it true for others."

"Just because your trying to make sense of an irrational world means telling yourself comforting platitudes, don't expect others to swallow it."

When I dream, sometimes I remember.
Having a wonderful day. Too bad about the nights.

Sure you can get past stuff, but it is always there.
Always.

I was saved by a head injury I know it.
The children of abuse grow up into suspicious adults.

There is no drug that can take away imprinted reaction. Only stifle it.
Trust is gone.

Old and wise does not mean full self-control.

Maybe I should have been a scientologist.
It seems to work for Tom Cruise.

It will dispel with time.
It always does.

Interesting how the mind, even the subconscious mind, imprints those moments when adrenalin is surging. The love, the happiness, the contentment just blend into the background. The horror is painted red.

I wish it would just go away like my teenyears.
Adrenalin is a marker chemical.
It is the indelible ink of the memory.


-----------

"Unforgiveness is the poison we drink, hoping another will die."

Memo to the Space Channel

Why am I being so bloggy and spammy tonight?

Space Channel has the suckiest movies ever.
Should be in smell-o-vision.

Now to bed and my alternate reality.

g'night and dont forget to BUY YOUR MUSIC...

Oh sure I download crap too. Currently human not perfect, but...
support your local artists. National, international....

Art needs you.

More Sparks

Gotta learn how to add audio clips...


meantime visit THIS blog

and yeah,......

The fabulous Mael brothers with their newest album.

and yeah.... go here and be jealous~!
Envy envy covet covet


Love ya guys

buggerit

I was perusing my own blog.
Amazingly I do the same things the same way year after year.

I am, once again, the Hostess with the Mostest for the event this year.
I have, once again, forgotten to book the day off.

--again.

Sometimes, I just do not know who is home upstairs.
There is a light, a flickering light.

Neon, of course.
Electric blue.

---------
bah whatthehell, I will go kill an orc or ten.
THAT I can control.
-----

yes yes I know...
don't knock it until you try it.
It is therapeutic.
And not as scary as VR or MMORPHS as text is whatever you wish it to be.

The Balkan Chopper King

Yes yes I am fabulous on an International level.
Well, not myself, personally, just by association.

When I was young and in my prime....
I used to hang with the boyos and rode my bike and altho we were not in a club, per se, we were a rowdy bunch of fun-loving bikers. We were not druggies, but oh boy, there was alot of beer around. I had tons of fun. Tons and tons.

Long ago, Jack DeShane was the first of us to die on the then-new Knight Street bridge. It was a shock. We went out to the site and the skidmarks from his bike were there. Nothing from the car that rammed into him. A 14 year old girl had taken daddy's car. After that, I was a little leery on my bike.

I never minded being on the back of the bike as I love the wind in my face.
Can't drive and close your eyes going *ahhh*, at least not and live.

Now my friend my online friend my incredible Balkan chopper king friend brings all these feelings back to me. I browse his website and see 2006 versions of my friends and I all those years ago. Except we did not have patches. As I said, we were not a club.

Another one of my olde friends from long long ago, Kenny A. had the best bikes of us all. Kenny was a charter member of the British Motorcycle Club and had the best Snortin, the best BMW the best everything. I missed the boat on Kenny.
He ended up marrying..... okay, I will not continue that thought.
He was a great fellow and I am sure he still is.

The Balkan King just bought himself a BMW.... a nice little short wheelbase mmmm I am so jealous bike.

I looked on his website (see link above) and I see fun fun fun.
It's all there.
The chicks trying too hard....
Oh horrors there is even one who looks like Paris Hilton...
I wonder if she is the same one with her shorts up her butt...
We had a couple of girls like that too way back when.
I did not hang with those chicks. In fact I did not even speak to them unless forced. They are just not my cuppa.

I click again and see a party a big huge party.
Every kind of enthusiast is there.
The true biker guys who just love their mates and their bikes.
The other kind...
The bikes, the beautiful bikes.
The choppies, the custom incredible everything and more...
I am not getting older, I am getting younger.
(Mentally)
(Or is that mental... )

MAN I wish I was 18 again....
Would I go visit Macedonia?
Well: I dinno. If I was 25 even I prolly would.
But I aint.

----------------- *

Welcome to the Mental Health Hotline

Yes yes it is an oldie.
I do not even know who to attribute this to.
Whilst I was at a client's home I noticed she had a copy of this handy.
She was embarressed that I noticed but it is a good little joke.
To make her feel better about being *outed* by a stray piece of paper I told her I was laughing because I saw myself in so many options.

Funny how mental health still has a stigma attached.
Should I apologise because I had a brain injury?
Should you apologise because you are diabetic?
Should anyone anywhere feel less of a person because of illness or injury?

bah society.

----------

--and now, the paper in question;

------------------

WELCOME TO THE MENTAL HEALTH HOTLINE!

If you are obsessive-compulsive Press 1 REPEATEDLY.

If you are co-dependant, ask someone to Press 2 for you.

If you have multiple personalities, Press 3-4-5-6.

If you are paranoid-delusional, we know who you are and what you want. Just stay on the line so we can trace the call.

If you are schizophrenic: listen carefully and a little voice will tell you which # to press.

If you are manic-depressive, it doesn't matter which # you press; they are all wrong.

If you are anal-retentive, please continue holding.

--------------

Can I growl now?

After that rant I feel the need to growl.

*grrr*



.......................... *

The eye of God

Things you never expect to hear....

I could fall over from shock atm:

Something amazing happened.
Something really amazing.
Not good amazing either.

In this land of plenty, where there are so many wealthy folk, there are also those in need. More and more needy arrive as summer beckons. The temperate climate ensures it. So the rich and privileged deign to donate items to the local charities that benefit the poor and needy. And what do they donate?

The items that get donated are predominantly squarely in the *stuff* category.
Things that adorn abodes. Needless things. Electronic things. Porcelain and copper and brass things. Non-essentials.

This is not to say that food items are not. Just not in such bounty.

If you do not have a roof over your head you probably do not care what colour your sheets are.

@---- + ---- @ ---- + ---- @ ---- + ---- @ ---- + ----@ ---- + ----@


A small private School comprised of, perhaps, 40 families.
An affluent community with many many retirees of wealth and stature.
A booming economy and rapid growth. Unsustainable, but still....

The School runs at a loss. That is not intentional, it is just the way of things. Tuition is moderate, 200 -400 per month with assistance available to those who require it. Many require it.

"For the love of your child."
That is the motto of the School.
There are a few fundraisers every year that make up an essential part of the operating budget. One such fundraiser has as a component, a garage sale. Typically the items donated for this event are better tha what you see in many stores. Alot of people in the community who do not necessarily have children in the school support it by donating items. The sale is volunteer staffed and ran and many hours go into the setup sale and takedown.

At the end of the day, there is always so much left over that it takes up a 40 foot wall of the gymnasium, even stacked in neatly packed boxes. What to do? One would think the local Thrift stores would want it. After all, if it was left on their doorstop in the night they would take it. They generally come and take it.

This year for some unfathomable reason, the driver sent explained patiently to the poor staff member who opened the gym to him, that they were inundated with "this sort of stuff" and could not possibly take it away. Here we are one week later with a gym full of boxes.

Many of the families that go to this school also go to the Church that supports this Thrift shop to the tune of 12% of their budget through an annual event. Not one dime of the event is kept by the church and THOUSANDS of volunteer hours of time go into it. The monies collected at this event help staff a store, run a crisis line, operate a haven for battered women, etc etc.

And they cherry-picked us. Little school, bullied by a Goliath who is kept and fed by the hands that support it.

We really live in a sick society when the advise is: "Take that stuff to the dump."

My heart breaks for these sorts of things.

Whew!

Amazingly what alot of rest and a full night's sleep can do.
Today was no problem at all.
The best part was in the morning when my irregular person lost their keys and was useless for the better part of 90 minutes. Somehow that seemed to settle them down.

Of course, it could be me.
Is it me?
Well, not today anyway.
I was fine lovely great wonderful!

More and more I see there are two of me.
The happy well-rested me, and the cranky irritated me.
Coincedentally, the not-as-nice me seems to exclusively be around in the late afternoons and evenings.
Go figure.

And work was well done.

-yahoo

- - - - - - - - - - - -

*HIGHLY* Irregular People

Oh in my face today was my least favourite person to work with.
I was in a technically superior position for the work at hand, but as this person holds a position on a certain Board of Directors, they were not about to relinquist control. OF ANYTHING.

Now I am a good person and a patient person but never let it be thought I can easily overlook rudeness. It is a constant struggle for me not to react to what I perceive as rudeness. Today was a whopper.

As if being challenged on my personal ethics was not enough, the very air itself was against me. The room we were in held a collection of dolls. These dolls were mildewed and dirty. I went outside to take some fresh air. Wouldn't you know it? Someone was cutting the lawn on a ride-on lawnmower. Next door to the facility, a pile of rubbish was being burned. PLASTIC rubbish. That is illegal but by the time the conservation officer would show up the fire would be out. I could not breathe inside or outside without assistance. I used my emergency puffer 5 times this afternoon and even now I am depleted of energy.

I work tomorrow with my irregular person for 7 hours.
God give me strength not to react.

grrrr.

--------- * -----------------

Wanting what you have

Isn't it interesting that people who SHOULD know you well, turn out to know nothing about you at all.

The Spanish Inquisition masquerading as a family member interrogated me today over the choice I have to make. Although my job is perfect and I love it, I do not love driving with the price of gas on the rise. On the other hand, environment is everything to me and I do not know if I could cope with people all around me 6 to 8 hours a day. It has been years since I had to put up with noise like that.

"So, what is holding you back?"

I mentioned I was not certain I wanted to give up my seniority and my lifestyle.

"But you would have a much better job!"

I asked what was better about it.

"You would make more money."

Can you believe it?
What a thing to say to me.
The last motivator on the list. Sure I have to consider money, but above all I consider my health, my wellness, and my ability to do a great job under the circumstances given.

I would never bargain those things away for mere money.

The day I do is the day I am no longer me.

Gothic

* -------------------- ** ** -------------------- *




So: I am not the only closet Catholic in town.
I saw a few icons today. Beautiful gilt icons and plain wooden icons.

God bless us all, everyone.


* -------------------- ** ** -------------------- *

Shared Physiology

In honour of Queen Victoria's birthday, we all have an extra day off. Families get together for food fun and in the case of my family, good big jaws about our neuroses.

When you see common traits in families it is easy to think upbringing shapes personality. When you see common compulsions then you might change over to the biology of things. The conversation went something like this.

"I like to collect china. I mean I really like to. I like to rearrange my apartment around things. I like clothes and spending money. I just can't seem to change."

"Never mind about that too much", said I. "It is a cultural thing this spending. At least you know your weaknesses. I collect things too. And worse, I seem to really be compulsive about my collections. I collect shiny things. And have ridiculous amounts of jewellery. And boxes. I collect boxes. And silver. And books. And mexican pottery."

"And clocks" chimed in another sibling. "You and your clocks."

My sibling said: "But I really am compulsive about it."

We digressed onto how everyone in our family seems to have compulsive and obsessive traits including both parents. Then came the topic of sleep problems.

"I had the weirdest night. I could feel this entity at the foot of my bed. I could just sense it was evil. And my cat who was sound asleep suddenly had her hackles up and was growling at the exact area I could sense the thing. And then, worse, as I was falling off to sleep, I could feel my body and my spirit trying to separate. It was an effort of will to stop myself from leaving my body."

It wasn't me speaking either.

So, it's official. We are all nuts.

Peanuts, coconuts and fruit loops.
And double helixes.



---------------------- + + *

---ah--- MUCH better!

I have changed the name of this blog to reflect my growing penchant for navel gazing.

So far, nothing at all of interest has been found in my bellybutton but: ya never know!

Many people in helping professions have troubled backgrounds.
My compassion comes from being effectively raised by wolves.
Neglect, abuse and a head injury.

Yes, I am compassionate towards all but the mean-spirited.
Then I have pity.
It could so easily be me.

And sometimes, somewhen, somewhere it likely is.


--------------------- + @ * >

The Family Crossword

We generally tend to hoarde our crossword puzzles until thoroughally stumped when begrudgingly we ask for help; kinda sorta. My family are all gamers of some type or t'other so a fresh puzzle is like gold.

T'was the senior among us who needed help.
Sister 1 finished the puzzle and handed it back.
Senior member said:
"Ah so the four letter word for the clue "Run _ _ _ _" ... is 'amok'."

"THAT'S not even hard!" I said. "What did you put?"

"I had run agog. I got the a and the o right!"

"Run agog eh? Like to see you use THAT in regular conversations," I smirked.

Ah the pursuits of the highly amused.
I can't wait to try that expression out.
I would like to continue blogging but I must go now to run agog.

hee hee hee

Should've seen it coming....

For someone so schooled in the language of the dying I can be rather obtuse.

Three visits in a row my elderly client was fussing about her clothes.
"I have to get Sage to take me shopping. I need some new clothes."

Her clothes were beautiful and plentiful.
The closet was stuffed with them.

Next time she said:
"I need new clothes."

"What for?" I asked.

"For, you know.... I need some new things for where I am going."

"Where are you going?"

"Well... I, you know... the next place."

She was wait-listed for a new facility so I assumed she meant it as her new address.

The last visit she was fussing again about the clothes.
When I left I said cheerily:
"See you next week."
"Maybe," she answered.

Died peacefully in her living room a few days later.
I hope those heavenly clothes meet her needs.

----------------- !

All the Nice Ladies

Leaving the big complex where so many clients live I encountered the wonderful 96 yr old woman who used to be my neighbour. She is legally blind now and quite deaf, but she is as sharp as ever. She called over to me.

"Hey come here for a moment, I want to say hello."

We visited for 15 or 20 minutes and she was telling me over and over how happy she is with the wonderful ladies who come to help her. She told me that our Office doesn't have even one dud in the group and how thankful she is for such excellent service.

Now that was worth more than diamonds and rubies to me.

---------------

40--ness

Someone I know turns 40 today!

Happy birthday to you!

--------- *

Out and about in the area listening to wonderful stories and realising that the day is near when our department is completely privitised. (hmm should that be a z?)

A wonderfully kind and sweet woman told me the best story today and I will tell you.

This lady is widowed not even a year and what a year!
She has had health issues that seem relatively benign but have come in clusters.
Right now she is feeling well but a tiny bit fearful.

The home is up on a bluff with a view that is truly gorgeous.
It is still a place where the average lot is 1/2 acre or larger.
I complimented her on fabulous taste for a retirement site.
I said: "You know, this place has such good energy. You can feel the harmony and happiness here."
(You really can!)

"Let me tell you the story of this place!"
I found it charming and I hope you do too.

The fellow who used to live in the house to the left here (an olde heritage home) loved to go out fishing. There was a tiny cottage at the seashore back then where this fellow used to come stay. They went fishing together. One day the resident fellow told him he enjoyed his company so much he wanted him to stay in a trailer on his property when he came. A few years of summer fishing later the man told him he enjoyed the fishing so much he wanted to make sure his friend never had to worry about coming over and sold him the lot where the trailer was for one dollar. It was a half acre piece.

The old fellow died not long after and the friend came over fishing for many more years. The seashore cabin saw other visitors and the friend made new fishing buddies. One day the friend, too died and to the surprise of the fishing buddy he left the 1/2 acre lot, now much more valuable, to the new fishing buddy, which of course was the client's husband.

They retired and built a beautiful home on the site which they never otherwise could have afforded.

Now, THAT is good energy!

----------

Dreaming

Today catching myself wondering if other caregivers have epic fantasies and dreams,
they would admit it if they did? Likely not.

Last night I opened my eyes in the bed and saw this baby laying beside me.
The child was about 2 months old at most. I was shocked that I could have gone to sleep with the baby beside me at the edge of the bed. Horrified that I could forget such a thing, I checked the little child's condition and realised with a shock that I had to feed and clothe him/her.

Rather than waking up which is the normal when something really bizarre happens in my dreams, I went about changing this baby and then trying to nurse it.
Unbelievable!

The scene changed to someone telling me a social worker was coming to find out why I carried the child so inelegantly not supporting the head correctly. (I kid you not)
Naturally the dream me tore off a strip of the person saying: "HOW DARE they judge me! How dare they make assumptions about my parenting skills just because some nosey parker shoots off their stupid mouth."

yes yes, sleep talking and ranting awakened me.
But interestingly I woke up saying:
"Oh thank GOD it's not my baby after all!"

--------------

More Wildlife

The neighbour was trimming the hedge again today.
As I sit at my computer gazing outside I notice a huge animal walking the fence and for a moment I think *mutant rat* before my brain stops sending adrenil responses and I realise it is a raccoon.

Do raccoons eat rats?
O I kinda hope so.

I am such a city-chick.
*boggle*

When I first moved here I had a home that was huge and right by a wildlife sanctuary. One night my dog went insane barking and yelping. I looked outside the patio which was out to a long slow ravine ending in the wilds. There is a river there. I saw a pair of yellow eyes looking in. I looked spellbound thinking it was a very large cat, which indeed it was. Cougar.

Of course noone believed me and I thought perhaps I had mistakenly seen a huge domestic cat..... until my neighbour at the foot of the hill said to me:
"You know there was a cougar out here 4 nights ago. We haven't seen one for almost 15 years down here. They usually don't come down this far unless they are starving."

Raccoons are much more acceptable.
---------- +

rats! Big rats! With tails ^&%$%@#@!

Little Johnny had a joke about this.
Alas the humour escapes me as I gaze out my sliding door to see Mr. or Mrs. Rat, strolling casually across my patio. So very casually.

eeek!

No wonder I have nightmares.

---------------------------- *

So I am watching this film based on the Ring myth...
"Dragon King" and yeah... it's just a big huge rat too.

The Nibelungs, the curse, the ring.
Tolkien did it better.

Oh my.

-------------------- *

Two Steps Back...

Blow me down matey but I heard a salty tale today!
Decades in this family and this is the first I have heard of this!

Sufficiently intrigued by another bout of sleep yelling, after blogging it, I remarked on it to my (remaining) family.

"You must take after your Grandmother," said the parental authority.

"Which one?" I asked.

"My Mother! She used to have a terrible time in the night. I don't know what it was; ask your Aunt she was the one who would console her without startling her."

I almost fell over.

"You are kidding. How long was this a problem?"

"Oh she always did that. Ask your Aunt. She would know about it."

Then I find out that sleepwalking was in the next generation as well.

Physically, I strongly resemble these people.
Obviously in more ways than I thought.

------------------ +

Room with a View

Another visit to a new-to-me client.
I pulled in to the spacious circular driveway and was very surprised at the size of the lot. It is a beautiful street; one of the streets that recently was embraced by the builders for those $600,000+ homes. I should have bought one. They are $800,000 now. I could have made a quick 200 grand.

But enough about that!
My client was sitting waiting and my visit coincided with a Census Taker *and* some out-of-town visitors who couldn't come at another time. A busy place.
I volunteered to go for a walk so the client could visit but I was told I could go "enjoy the view from the kitchen."

I had no idea. It was the best view I have seen in town. The gentleman told me they were first on the street so they had their chose of lot. And what a choice!
It truly was breath-taking.

We finally finished the visit and I said my goodbyes.

"I am off to enjoy some sunshine" I said.

The gent shook my hand and said touchingly: "Thank you for bringing the sunshine inside."

awwww.

------------------------------- *

*Jools*

The Jewellery Lady was a late add-on to my day.

I remembered her from last year or the one before when my arrival coincided with her picking over some rhinestones she was glueing and shining for a local second-hand store. She had about 300 pieces on some boards she was working on and polybags everywhere stuffed full of more.
She had an eyepiece in and a huge magnifying glass by her side.
She had to be 85, looking like a million dollars, dripping rhinestones herself, SHERMANS too.

A big lady, I was surprised when she told me she had lost 65 pounds since the last time I saw her.
She always looked hearty and healthy but plus sized. She said she had been a size 24 1/2 and now was a 16 petite. So much for all those who say it is impossible to lose weight after 50.

"Was it difficult to adhere to a diet?"

She shook her head adamantly.
"It was dead easy. All I did was cut out the biscuits and the sugars."

Speaking of biscuits: I think it is time for me to bake a scone and have it with creamcheese and raspberries.
mmm delicious.

I do not expect to lose even 6 pounds anytime soon.
I loves me food.

----------------------- *

I'm Flying!

ooooooo I bet my arms will be tired tomorrow.
Google earth is amazing.
I have spent a few hours flying.

What next?

A Feyday

Today I feel most fey: sitting here looking in on my Tolkienesque landscape whilst listening to the Cocteau Twins.

Sometimes I picture myself at 80 still listening to Joy Division and killing orcs.
Somehow I do not think so.
I had dreams about being dead in my 50s. I also had a psychic or 3 tell me the same. And there was that neurologist that said if my neck lasts after 55 it will be a miracle. Interesting that unprompted comments from every spectrum would be so similar. For now I have eternity in each moment and music once again.
-=-=-=- * cue dreamy music * -=-=-
It is marvellous to have music on my PC again and yet more wondrous to be doing many media things at once with a chat client running and a telnet client running and and and NO FREEZES nor screens of death.
God Bless my sweetheart new PC. Of course it has 5 times the memory of my older one and is 5 times as fast with 8+ times the storage space and all kinds of storage USB ports. My soul gripe is that the Microsoft Office program loaded on it has a 60 trial. I own two copies of Office around here somewhere. Office 97 and 2003.
Surely to goodness that is enough?

I started everything and I do mean everything I wish to do at once and then checked the CPU usage in task manager. haha. less than 8%

This computer is smarter than I am.
A little more refining and it will be bossing me around.
Hopefully it will have exceptional taste in music and share the sounds with me.
Do silicone based lifeforms have the capacity for empathy or pain?
Am I hurting it now?

One day I am sure we shall all find out.
One day soon.
--------------- *

Abject Chaos

Guess what?

My closet collapsed completely and totally.
This time I am fairly certain it is a forever thing.
The plastic rods are bent in the middle.

I am going to hire someone to fix it this time.
My love for beautiful things extends to my wardrobe.
Now on the floor.

*frown*

----------------------- * - * -

Hum*Hum*hum hummingbirds!

Indoor diva that I am, my life is ordered around what is convenient for me.
I do not allow myself to feel sad over the differences between me and most unless it is a matter most close to the heart. I know what works for me. If I try to operate on the way of the world I do not last long before flaming out and crashing.

The natural outdoors, or my little piece of it is still too bright and hot for me.
A covered patio helps somewhat but mostly I am on the inside of the sliding door.
Last year I noticed that my retired neighbour, the same one I subjected to my sleep yelling, has beautified her tiny postage stamp yard into a perfectly groomed tiny bit of paradise complete with visting hummingbirds. I stood on my stool and gaped in awe.

Being neither able nor interested in devoting time to have the same degree of groomed beauty on my side, I settled for getting feeders. It was fun to cheat a little bit by hanging one from the large red Italian lamp my brother gifted me with. The lamp is very close to the sliding door. I turn my head a quarter turn and see this tiny wonder of nature drawing the sugar water up through it's long beak. The feeder farther away gets traffic too but it is alot more fun to watch the closer one.

A little nature up close revives the tired soul.
Perhaps I should put another feeder up.


--------- *

Happiness is ....

I am delighted to tell you my dear Blogspot space that I am the proud owner of a brand new HPa1324n.

God bless Staples and their loverly deals.

*kiss kiss Staples*

Years later, he told ya so

For years my friends thought I was a one-woman doomsday sayer.
I had graduated from books like "The Late Great Planet Earth" by Hal Lindsay to "The Enchanted Loom" by Robert Jastrow. Jastrow made more sense to me than Lindsay.

Not to mention he was correct.
What people smirked at in 1983 is reality in 2006.

One of my favourite quotes from Jastrow is:
'For the scientist who has lived by his faith in the power of reason, the story ends like a bad dream. He has scaled the mountains of ignorance; he is about to conquer the highest peak; as he pulls himself over the final rock, he is greeted by a band of theologians who have been sitting there for centuries. (Robert Jastrow)'

I know it is our doom but I just CAN'T unplug, Mr. Jastrow sir.

Transparent tragedies

The News has been full of HealthCare horrors.
The Media is focused on disrespect or perceived disrespect to Seniors.
First up was the glaring attention on a longtime married couple in the interior of the Province who were separated when the wife required Extended Care and the husband was intermediate. The wife was shipped off to a new facility in a new city an hour or so away and died within a short time. Away from her husband.

Nanaimo Regional Hospital was next up and has stayed up at bat for over a month as families come forward with more and more stories about inattention in the ER ward. It is not a new thing nor is it something easily band-aided but with the Media staring and taking notes it is an easy target. This week it was an elderly man dying on a gerney in the hallway with not even a blanket and now, today, an elderly Volunteer at the Hospital gift shop beaten to death by a raging patient. It all comes down to the same thing: not enough of any type of staff and droves of critics.

We pride ourselves on being a civil and gunfree society but noone told the bad guys. We need better security in Hospitals. We need more positions like the old-time Clerks who can hand out things like blankets and walk around giving indications of how things are going. Obviously critical care has to come first but equally obviously something is wrong when an elderly man who was IN CARE is sent to hospital to die in a hall. I think the family is asking the wrong questions. Why could he not die in the dignity of his own room in the place he resided?

I can tell you why but you won't like it. I don't like it either.
There are private care Facilities with beautiful rooms and lovely names where the client pays a big rent and must take dinner daily in the gracious and lovely dining room with others. The cost is generally $1000 a month for this dinner and housekeeping. Security locks at the front and back doors off the spacious lobbies are welcoming features for families who fly in to see all is well. There is a reception area there and an office manned by a $12 dollar an hour person. It's all very nice. If you are renting it is around $1700 and up and if you are buying it is close to $200,000 IF you can find one. Most places prefer renters. So your rent and your $1000 a month and you are in business.
If you require assistance you press their lifeline which is in each room. Do they come and help you? No. They come and wait with you for the ambulance they have called.

Some of these places take extended care as well and charge for every single event they are involved with. If a Care-aid hands you your pills it costs you $15 each time. If a Nurse beit LPN or RN hands you those same pills it is $25. A charge for walking you down the hall, a charge for everything other than a cheery hello. But if you require critical care well 9-1-1 and off you go to the hallways of the hospital.

I have no solution to offer. Perhaps some of those massive dollars spent in Human Resources and studies as to where to cut staffing could actually be used to staff. I know it is tough to be a CEO. Hundreds of thousands of dollars a year worth of tough.

Will anyone ever get in public office who is able to turn things around without that cash giveaway for inquiries that everyone already knows the answer to?

---------- +

Honourable Mention

Well shiver me timbers!

A message in a bottle washed ashore.

-------

Okay so it was not a desert island escapade but we takes what we can get in the excitement arena. A mystery letter arrived for me. It was all very curious.

Our Lady of the incredibly-difficult-to-cope-with-right-to-the-very-end passed on to the next world where I hope her spirit has found peace at long last. As HealthCare professionals we got off easily. The family bore the brunt of her slow and painful decline. I always felt they deserved alot of credit for honouring her wishes to stay at home when so easily they could have done otherwise with the understanding and blessing of virtually everyone who ever met her.

The message was from the family thanking me for "kind and compassionate care."
It sounds silly I am sure but this really means alot to me.
A few words on a page.
I am a strange woman I know.

Sslithers and Woozles

Laying in bed before work I was daydreaming about this and that happily intersperced with the morning CBC when suddenly I realised it was the 7am news I was listening to.
---egad!---

Heighing ho I offed to work went singing, yes! Yes I did!
Twas a simple day by comparison. Alot of easy things and one or two new faces.
One of the new faces was in a new building right on the tony avenue we all aspire to.
Well, some of us anyway. I was admittedly distracted by the prospect of finally seeing the inside of the place but not so much as to forget why I was there.

It was not the voice of a client that answered the intercom.
"I suppose well yes okay sure yes I guess you can ok let me see well yes you can come up."
Not the standard greeting.

I entered to a surplus of family just leaving.
Another kerfuffle! Hurrah hurrah!

The family did not realise I had no prior relationship with the client and were so busy kerfuffling that it took me 5 minutes just to cross the apartment.
The client was sitting quietly sipping tea in a dressing gown.

"Just went down all of a sudden. And slithered across the floor to the phone. I knew if I could just get myself slithered over it would be all right."
The point of graceful collapse was a good 20 feet from the phone indicated.

"Why didn't you use your lifeline?"

"Oh well you know it is such a fuss and all the neighbours would see and I didn't want to disturb anyone."

If I had a nickle for every time I heard that reasoning....

God forbid we have a fuss. Although to my eyes it did seem we were smackdab in the middle of one right then. Families are notorious for handling such events badly.

Most of the family left. The one who stayed talked my head off with every conceivable "What if...." as well as a goodly portion of self-blame.

When I arrived my client had a basin in case there was emesis.
There was nothing to be gained in emphasizing the negative as the client was going off to the Doctor for a post-surgerical check-up. I knew that the family would make sure that Doctor heard all about it.

The only thing that I found troubling was the amount of bruising on my client.
I was not sure how much of it was normal to the operation which was about 10 days ago or so. It was alot of swelling and bruising. Part of me was thinking there was a good possibility of a low-grade infection and the other part was reminding me my opinion although endlessly fascinating to myself is totally irrelevant.

The skills of distraction I possess in spades allowed me to get that client ready to go and forgetting about what was wrong. There was alot right. We talked about that.
I find it immensely satisfying to do a great job in tough circumstances.

I told them as I left it is a true art to be able to woozle so gracefully.

Bless this little client who is brave and strong and true.
My chips bet hospitalisation or at least convalescant care for a few days.

----------------------*

Sweet Souvenir

This was written in a little postcard with a picture of the Madonna with Child given to me by the family of someone I cared for.
I found it very sweet a souvenir.


-------------

When I'm gone, give what's left of me away to children and to old folks that wait to die. And if you need to cry, cry for your brother and sister walking the street beside you. And when you need me put your arms around someone and give them what you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something, something better than words or sounds.
Look for me in the people I've known and loved. And if you cannot give me away, at least let me live in your eyes and not in your mind. You can love me most by lettings hands touch hands, by letting bodies touch bodies, and by letting go of children that need to be freed.

Love doesn't die, people do.
So, when all that's left of me is love, give me away.


---------------------------------- *

Early Morning at the Beach

The tide was coming in as I arrived at the beachfront.
The waters were insistently lapping ever closer.
On the waters, a flock of seagulls were sitting looking towards the sands.
I thought it was a trick of my imagination until I noticed the crows.

Along the cement stroll, a trio of crows were bobbing their heads up and down and making a racket. On the beach a few feet away another few crows were squawking loudly too. Then a hawk swooped overhead shrieking. This was alot of action for the beach at this time of day. It was around 06:30am. I sat and watched the birds not understanding until ....

The tide was almost completely in. There was perhaps six feet of beach left. I suddenly noticed, behind some driftwood just barely obscuring my vision from my seat, a flicker of movement. Without getting out of my car I moved myself to the middle of the seat and sat as high as I could get. There was an eagle sitting quietly at the shoreline. This then was the drawing card for the other birds.
The circling hawk had scared away the crows but the seagulls had moved closer and some had taken to the air pursuing the hawk in a straggly group. The others seemed to be readying an assault on the eagle. The big bird did not flinch at all even though the tide was about to hit him.

Suddenly there was a huge kerfuffle followed by a scattering of every left-over bird.
Reinforcements to the eagle camp arrived. A smaller bird swooped over the area repeatedly and cleared the way for a huge mature eagle with a spectacular wingspan.
He flew down low and scooped up something from beside the shoreline one.
As soon as he grapped it the other bird flew up and away.

Whatever it was the other bird was guarding was the size of a large roast and white.
I know because the big bird flew right past me and over the highway at a dangerously low altitude. He barely cleared the house a block down.

It was magnificent how bravely the smaller bird had stood guard.
There must have been 60+ birds ready to try to dislodge him.
He did not move not even when the tide had almost taken his prize.
Where did the other birds come from?
How did they know to come?
How long was the bird waiting?

It was a fabulous display of nature.


---------------------- @

Having it all.

I read the name on my list with some surprise. This person is somewhat well-known.
I cannot recall reading that they were ill but of course they are.

Going to the home I park on the street below and walk up the hill onto the property.
There are alot of gorgeous people buzzing about. Family and friends.
In I go to see a younger woman sitting smoking.
I am somewhat surprised as oxygen is in use in the home.
Noone seems to be attending to anything other than themselves.

I walk my mind through the notes and in the background this blonde is telling me some long story about a meal that did not go well. When I do not respond in the way she is hoping for she smacks my arm for emphasis. I just look at her.
What is she really thinking I wonder.

I go looking for my client who is in bed behind double doors.
Everywhere you turn there is opulance.
Even the bed is garbed in expensive linens.
Even now the client will not use the *good towels*.
I suppose they are being saved for something. Someone. Not her, not today.

As soon as my client's eyes opened the gasping began.
It is a dread of running out of air that seizes the imagination.
Puffers of all colours sit on the bedtray.

My client has everything money can buy. And more.
Currently, it means nothing.

I leave and the blonde calls out: "That's it?"

Goodbye I say.
The client is more relaxed now but the air holds bitterness.

-------------------- *

---OOOPS!!

Coming home after a non-stop day with no breaks at all I think to myself:
"I will just take the dog for a walk and then fall into a bath and read."

Two messages from my parent.
"It is just time to go. Where are you? I am waiting. If we leave right now we can make it to my appointment..."

message 2:
"Ok I am at my appointment. Call me anytime."

oops

He drove himself. On the Highway.
Oops.

------------------------------- *

"The Trouble with Women..."

Listening to an Audiobook file I downloaded on LimeWire: John Cleese:
"How to Irritate People"

"The trouble with women is that they always take things personally....
to which 4 women replied:
"Well *I* don't " "


--------------hee hee hee

feeling lazy

Yes yes I know.
No new posts.

I can't be bothered to tell you the truth.

;)


Lots of interesting things have happened and many a fine tale been told.
I will get my butt in gear soon.

---------- *

My body is a temple

We sat sipping tea. I am coming to enjoy a good cuppa more than coffee.
Does this mean I am officially old now?

Possibly.
I know I am dressing in layers all the time now --and-- wearing socks to bed.

My right side hurts like a bugger all day every day.
It scares me to think what I will be like when I am 50-60-70
This is the ghost of long-ago accidents come back to haunt me.
I do not think the ghost ever extemporated completely.

I have a topper on my mattress that is made of down and so soft, so very soft I feel like I am floating. I have to sleep on my left side or on my back. I can no longer
relax enough to sleep on my right. I cannot even lie on it.

All day at work I can blank out my leg. Advil 600 helps.
I look in the mirror and there she is.
That woman has jumped in front again.
She is friendly looking and pleasant but wow--- is that really me?
I guess so.

The weather announces itself in my bones.
I knew it was raining before my eyes were open.
The years are so sneaky.
One minute you are counting the days and the next, months slide by in stealth mode.

Oh it is an amazing journey this life is.

What shrine is my body?
A temple to.... ?

(boggle)

Contractually speaking

from both the Nurses and the Government came to agreement last night. The proposed settlement is not really about ca$h or bonu$e$, but about respect and workplace conditions. Remember it is not long ago that when the Nurse's Union was in a striking position they simply refused to work overtime and were promptly blamed for everything that went wrong because of the nursing shortage. I say look in the mirror employers!

Overworked and understaffed is a familiar refrain but we have a repeat chorus: "Not enough new hires, and we can't keep the staff we have. We have record numbers of people on sicktime or long-term disability stress leave and still people think nurses are greedy. Noone values healthcare until they are sick. Strange values.

Thankfully the representatives
I am pleased that most everyone was able to negotiate a settlement.
I have not heard about the Social Workers. We shall see.

----------- *