Do you ever wonder who Tom Cruise pissed off? I do.
How can you go from glowing matinee idol, beloved of zillions, to scorned and reviled-- without doing anything much different than your neighbour in any town village or city?
After all, he did not bleach his skin like some.... murder his ex wife like some.... chroncile affairs with endless groupies like some....
Why Tom? Why now?
Oh sure I love to pull my idols down too. Only within reason though.
Likea certain lead singer of the band Hole's infamous intrusion to Madonna's MTV interview where she climbed up and fucked up and fell down... THAT's asking for it.
(score with Love singing in the background: "did she ask you nice? If she was asking for it.... did she ask you twice?")
Is Tom Cruise too happy for the great media moguls to tolerate?
Was the world as we know it threatened by his obvious zest for life and love of his work?
Was it too far when he decided to speak his mind, and really tell us what he thought?
Can it be that unscripted movie stars are more dangerous than allowed?
Whatever the reason, Tom is the scapegoat of 2006 in the tabloid press and other media that should know better. I do not happen to think Tom is a bad person because he is a Scientologist. More likely, Tom is a very good person because of his great belief and practise of Scientology. Like many strong minded folk, Tom likes to share what he passionatly believes in with others. In his case, the world.
So damned what?
He is getting the same or worse press that say, George Michael and his men's room forays did.
Who did Tom piss off?
Like it or not unnamed grouches, Tom Cruise will overcome even you.
In the end, who the hell cares what others think?
For my part, I wish him well.
Tom, I envision you holding your newest child and gazing into her clear blue eyes with joy and harmony.
So Tom Cruise; spread that gospel of yours.
Your brand's different from mine but in the end ...
All that ever remains is love.
------- *
"Love is an endless act of forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit."- Peter Ustinov
1.11.06
What I am (re-) reading
Someone asked what I am currently reading.
This, then is the group for this time juncture:
"Pagans and Christians" Robin Lane Fox
"Jesus" Michael Grant
"The Star Thrower" Loren Eiseley (** found it at last!!! **)
"Work as a Spiritual Practice" Lewis Richmond
See?
I am trying to talk myself into paying attention to the correct reality again.
Honest...
--
It is the fool who thinks he cannot be fooled. Joey Skaggs
This, then is the group for this time juncture:
"Pagans and Christians" Robin Lane Fox
"Jesus" Michael Grant
"The Star Thrower" Loren Eiseley (** found it at last!!! **)
"Work as a Spiritual Practice" Lewis Richmond
See?
I am trying to talk myself into paying attention to the correct reality again.
Honest...
--
It is the fool who thinks he cannot be fooled. Joey Skaggs
Vanilla open-your-eyes Sky
Fear is a great motivator. Fear of Tom Cruise in a bad performance stopped me from watching "vanilla sky" for years now. Tonight I overcame this fear.
I did not hate the movie. A few too many Courtney Love references and really, Tom, please oh please affect some new mannerisms for the "okay I am feeling angst now" moments.
I loved Tom Cruise in "Magnolias" where he played the consummate jock asshole saleman "Respect the cock" guy. If I could like him in that movie, and I did, he must be all right as an actor. More than just the guy from "Top Gun" and "Days of Thunder".
Unfortunately for Mr. Cruise we jean and joe averages know all too much about him as skewered through the tabloid press. I bet they didn't tell you about that until after the soul exchange eh Tom?
Vanilla Sky was not as good as "Open your Eyes" even though I saw it with subtitles it definitly is better. Cameron Crowe did a respectable job on the writing and directing here. I watched the movie through and then read the plethora of withering reviews. Critics can be so petty.
Anyone who has had dream delusions or sleep misadventures can identify with the character's problems trying to discern which reality is the one to pay attention to. Unlike the movie "pi" which was so bang on correct with the depiction of where the pain in the brain is, and exactly how to get rid of it, "Vanilla Sky" is a film I can discuss and watch again with no fear of relapse.
After "Pi" I think I took 5 weeks off to get my brain back together again. No shit.
So you see --life with a brain injury isn't all sunshine and roses and being content with one-tenth of what you are capable of. It can be disturbingly surreal seeing aspects of your pain up there for the world to see. My moment was when the character finally can't take the headaches anymore and opts for the handful of meds. Been there done that and oops it didn't take. Unlike the movie character my face looks great. Or at least as great as $56,000 can buy. And I never did have any *visible* scars, except on the top of my head where the hair won't grow, and along my cheek where it looks like a scratch. Nowadays the same things would cost in the hundreds of thousands.
Wallowing in life. That's me.
No, I didn't hate the film.
Tom, you are better than your press. Alot better.
btw: Cameron Diaz is naturally about as freakishly skinny as a person can be without decomposing. No, that is not a compliment but rather a wake-up call to all of us. Why is this one in a hundred million body type being glorified? Is it so the rest of us can never be satisfied? I suspect so. I want a movie queen who is 5 foot 7 and 150 pounds of normalcy.
Wallow wallow.
“I'm very brave generally, he went on in a low voice: only today I happen to have a headache.”
Lewis Carroll
I did not hate the movie. A few too many Courtney Love references and really, Tom, please oh please affect some new mannerisms for the "okay I am feeling angst now" moments.
I loved Tom Cruise in "Magnolias" where he played the consummate jock asshole saleman "Respect the cock" guy. If I could like him in that movie, and I did, he must be all right as an actor. More than just the guy from "Top Gun" and "Days of Thunder".
Unfortunately for Mr. Cruise we jean and joe averages know all too much about him as skewered through the tabloid press. I bet they didn't tell you about that until after the soul exchange eh Tom?
Vanilla Sky was not as good as "Open your Eyes" even though I saw it with subtitles it definitly is better. Cameron Crowe did a respectable job on the writing and directing here. I watched the movie through and then read the plethora of withering reviews. Critics can be so petty.
Anyone who has had dream delusions or sleep misadventures can identify with the character's problems trying to discern which reality is the one to pay attention to. Unlike the movie "pi" which was so bang on correct with the depiction of where the pain in the brain is, and exactly how to get rid of it, "Vanilla Sky" is a film I can discuss and watch again with no fear of relapse.
After "Pi" I think I took 5 weeks off to get my brain back together again. No shit.
So you see --life with a brain injury isn't all sunshine and roses and being content with one-tenth of what you are capable of. It can be disturbingly surreal seeing aspects of your pain up there for the world to see. My moment was when the character finally can't take the headaches anymore and opts for the handful of meds. Been there done that and oops it didn't take. Unlike the movie character my face looks great. Or at least as great as $56,000 can buy. And I never did have any *visible* scars, except on the top of my head where the hair won't grow, and along my cheek where it looks like a scratch. Nowadays the same things would cost in the hundreds of thousands.
Wallowing in life. That's me.
No, I didn't hate the film.
Tom, you are better than your press. Alot better.
btw: Cameron Diaz is naturally about as freakishly skinny as a person can be without decomposing. No, that is not a compliment but rather a wake-up call to all of us. Why is this one in a hundred million body type being glorified? Is it so the rest of us can never be satisfied? I suspect so. I want a movie queen who is 5 foot 7 and 150 pounds of normalcy.
Wallow wallow.
“I'm very brave generally, he went on in a low voice: only today I happen to have a headache.”
Lewis Carroll
31.10.06
Binary clocks: what every geek needs!
This is on glassgiant:
Binary clocks and binary watches are the ultimate in geekiness. The first one I saw was at thinkgeek.com. This program uses your computer's clock to display the time in a graphical binary format.
Please make sure you have Javascript enabled and take a look at the Javascript binary clock. Make sure you have Flash to see the Flash binary clock.
Flash Binary Clock or Javascript Binary Clock
*** These are amazing to leave running on the desktop!
I love when people ask me what it is. The occasional geek actually HAS told ME what it is.
Now THAT@S coolness!
--- back to glassgiant's explantion now: ***
How It Works
The leftmost two columns represent hours, the middle two represent minutes and the last two represent seconds. In addition, each row represents a value of 1, 2, 4 or 8, as indicated. To find out what time it is, simply add the values associated with each active square for each column. If there are no active squares in a column the value is 0.For example, the sample shows that only the 4 position is lit up in the second column from the right, for a total of 4. The 4 and 1 positions are lit up for the rightmost column, for a total of 5. So, putting these two numbers together, we find that the "seconds" portion of the time is 45. Adding up the remaining columns, we find the time is 22:47:45, or 10:47:45 PM.
For more information on how to count in binary, check out How to Count to 31 on One Hand.
Copyright © 2001-2006 Glass Giant Ltd. All rights reserved.
Some less convenient truths
Tidying up....
tidy up! Tidy up! Everything goes into it's place!
tidy up! Tidy up! Now it's time to tidy up!
I am working rather hard at trying to clear out my junk.
Boxes and boxes of stuff never accessed nor sorted since I bought this place in 2001.
In addition to my own nasty garbage, I have had to sort, store and re-gift my father's garbage as well. My stuff just kept getting put further and further to the back of the storage room.
Having resigned from three organizations I must now deliver things which I have been holding on their behalf lo these many years. Oh shit that's a pain in the ass. I have bloody buggery no idea where anything is. Other helpful people have cleaned up around here. Sure it looked good but guess what? They put everything in the storage room in boxes. Not sorted nor labelled.
It's zero hour and I must do it myself. --arg
An inconvenient truth has fallen on my mind.
what does this mean?
Well mostly it most inconveniently means that I must sort this stuff out MYSELF and put it away MYSELF as only I am responsible for it. All that other stuff above is just a very great distraction method my diabolically clever mind contrived to keep me busy.
----
Be careless in your dress if you will, but keep a tidy soul. Mark Twain
tidy up! Tidy up! Everything goes into it's place!
tidy up! Tidy up! Now it's time to tidy up!
I am working rather hard at trying to clear out my junk.
Boxes and boxes of stuff never accessed nor sorted since I bought this place in 2001.
In addition to my own nasty garbage, I have had to sort, store and re-gift my father's garbage as well. My stuff just kept getting put further and further to the back of the storage room.
Having resigned from three organizations I must now deliver things which I have been holding on their behalf lo these many years. Oh shit that's a pain in the ass. I have bloody buggery no idea where anything is. Other helpful people have cleaned up around here. Sure it looked good but guess what? They put everything in the storage room in boxes. Not sorted nor labelled.
It's zero hour and I must do it myself. --arg
An inconvenient truth has fallen on my mind.
- I only learned to be a Nurse because I like the feeling of being needed.
- I only learned to be the best Nurse because I do not like the way other Nurses care for people.
- I take satisfaction from the joy of a job well done largely due to my competitive nature.
- I have little respect for those in authority until they demonstrate they are capable of doing the job to MY satisfaction and standards.
- I am responsible only for my own stuff....
what does this mean?
Well mostly it most inconveniently means that I must sort this stuff out MYSELF and put it away MYSELF as only I am responsible for it. All that other stuff above is just a very great distraction method my diabolically clever mind contrived to keep me busy.
----
Be careless in your dress if you will, but keep a tidy soul. Mark Twain
29.10.06
Pelted by Leaves
From Dreams to reality; up and out I go into the autumn winds.
It is amazingly windy outside. As I walk along the avenue, I am pelted by maple leaves. They all seem to be aiming straight for my head.
I head to the seaside where the whitecaps are amazing. Two brave windsurfers are out in the bay. One of my kite friends is trying to set up his kiteboarding stuff.
It has been legitimised as a quasi-extreme sport now and has a new name too but I cannot remember it. Fly something or other.
More of my old friends see me and call out: "Where are your kites?"
I just smile and wave.
I miss Ray Bethel and the times from long ago when we flew together outside the Maritime Museum and the big deal was landing your kites on the big sculpture.
Now Ray does the routine he and I did together all alone flying 3 kites.
I miss that. Watching him put on his show was alot of fun. A true people-pleaser. Ray was born to entertain.
I do not miss flying though. I had many golden years and the experience of being with world-class fliers. The memory is enough. I can't stand the sun anymore and I get too cold. What an old lady.
Coming back it is oak leaves smacking into me. I pass the last large Oak tree in this area and sadly note the property is in the rezoning process. Paradise is getting ever more crowded. I see our resident homeless by choice fellow and he is with a woman. (!!) She is completely plastered. Or something. She is my age.
It could be me, under our circumstances. He is holding her up and trying to talk her into going home. To her home. To sleep it off. Nice guy.
Now I too am home.
I am warm in my cozy little place here and happy.
It's coming along. Give it a few more weeks and I may be all right after all.
It is amazingly windy outside. As I walk along the avenue, I am pelted by maple leaves. They all seem to be aiming straight for my head.
I head to the seaside where the whitecaps are amazing. Two brave windsurfers are out in the bay. One of my kite friends is trying to set up his kiteboarding stuff.
It has been legitimised as a quasi-extreme sport now and has a new name too but I cannot remember it. Fly something or other.
More of my old friends see me and call out: "Where are your kites?"
I just smile and wave.
I miss Ray Bethel and the times from long ago when we flew together outside the Maritime Museum and the big deal was landing your kites on the big sculpture.
Now Ray does the routine he and I did together all alone flying 3 kites.
I miss that. Watching him put on his show was alot of fun. A true people-pleaser. Ray was born to entertain.
I do not miss flying though. I had many golden years and the experience of being with world-class fliers. The memory is enough. I can't stand the sun anymore and I get too cold. What an old lady.
Coming back it is oak leaves smacking into me. I pass the last large Oak tree in this area and sadly note the property is in the rezoning process. Paradise is getting ever more crowded. I see our resident homeless by choice fellow and he is with a woman. (!!) She is completely plastered. Or something. She is my age.
It could be me, under our circumstances. He is holding her up and trying to talk her into going home. To her home. To sleep it off. Nice guy.
Now I too am home.
I am warm in my cozy little place here and happy.
It's coming along. Give it a few more weeks and I may be all right after all.
27.10.06
------------ Myriad Musings
Conversing with family, they point out to me that this is cyclic- this mind-mess and I have left a well-defined trail of breadcrumbs.
"This happens every 5 years or so."
It does?
Why did noone tell me?
Here is my mind as generated:
26.10.06
17.10.06
The Falling Dream
Out in space again way way out there and loving it. I am dimly aware this is a dreamstate I am in. There is a nagging thought that I am being stalked.
That seems very odd to me as I am surrounded by billions of miles of open space.
Still there is something out there disturbing me.
Now I feel it upon me. It is just me and it way out in space.... and I scream....
Now I am falling falling falling...
down and down millions of miles a second and still I fall...
*WHAM!*
I wake up sitting, covered in sweat. Not one cover remains on the bed.
I am shaking. Whatever it was out there scared me to bits.
The remaining bits of me carried on with the day.
*aaaaaaarg*
That seems very odd to me as I am surrounded by billions of miles of open space.
Still there is something out there disturbing me.
Now I feel it upon me. It is just me and it way out in space.... and I scream....
Now I am falling falling falling...
down and down millions of miles a second and still I fall...
*WHAM!*
I wake up sitting, covered in sweat. Not one cover remains on the bed.
I am shaking. Whatever it was out there scared me to bits.
The remaining bits of me carried on with the day.
*aaaaaaarg*
We are not alone! Parasomniacs Anonymous
A quick blog search to find out if I am the only one confessing to being a sleep phobic due to night terrors. I found some interesting people and things with a click of the mouse.
Here
and Here
and Here
I hear you all my friends. Night is not our friend.
Here
and Here
and Here
I hear you all my friends. Night is not our friend.
16.10.06
Give Grief Words
Yet once more, O ye Laurels, and once more
Ye Myrtles brown, with Ivy never-sear,
I com to pluck your Berries harsh and crude,
And with forc'd fingers rude,
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear,
Compels me to disturb your season due:
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer:
Who would not sing for Lycidas? he well knew
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
He must not flote upon his watry bear
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
Without the meed of som melodious tear.
-----milton
Ye Myrtles brown, with Ivy never-sear,
I com to pluck your Berries harsh and crude,
And with forc'd fingers rude,
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear,
Compels me to disturb your season due:
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer:
Who would not sing for Lycidas? he well knew
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
He must not flote upon his watry bear
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
Without the meed of som melodious tear.
-----milton
15.10.06
14.10.06
I KNEW IT!!!!
Which of the Valier (Silmarillion ~ LotR) are You?
You are Varda, Queen of the Stars. You are the
most beautiful and powerful of all the Valier,
and are most beloved of the Elves. They praise
you, and cry out to you in their need. You are
the spouse of Manwe.
You are Varda, Queen of the Stars. You are the
most beautiful and powerful of all the Valier,
and are most beloved of the Elves. They praise
you, and cry out to you in their need. You are
the spouse of Manwe.
12.10.06
HOW MUCH????
Sitting with an Insurance Adjustor discussing my claim for damages to my rear bumper incurred in a very minor parking lot accident. I had been telling her that I was planning to have the car detailed anyway and that my damages were minimal. The other vehicle that backed into me had more damage as it was the driver's side door.
The accessor brought his report into the interview room.
My adjustor looked across the desk and told me the amount it would likely cost to repair my scratches.
"HOW MUCH??"
Up until that moment I was holding the high road.
Suddenly I became concerned with assessed liability.
Because of my excellent driving record (her words, not mine) the worst case scenario is that my yearly premium will go up by $17.00
I can handle that.
A very large part of me wants the accident to be 100% the other driver's fault.
Tsk tsk tsk.
The accessor brought his report into the interview room.
My adjustor looked across the desk and told me the amount it would likely cost to repair my scratches.
"HOW MUCH??"
Up until that moment I was holding the high road.
Suddenly I became concerned with assessed liability.
Because of my excellent driving record (her words, not mine) the worst case scenario is that my yearly premium will go up by $17.00
I can handle that.
A very large part of me wants the accident to be 100% the other driver's fault.
Tsk tsk tsk.
9.10.06
Thankfully giving
T'is Thanksgiving eve and I am the turkey, stuffed and dressed.
We had a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner featuring mostly vegetarian dishes and one bar-be-qued chicken. With only two people eating meat it seemed silly to make a turkey. I did make stuffing and a compote instead of a meat-based gravy. It was onion and mushroom, pear apple raisin and cinammon compote and it was absolutely delicious. We had mashed potatoes and butternut squash baked in a glaze, we had brussel sprouts and pickled beets and yummy pumpkin pie with fresh whipping cream for dessert.
I am thankful for such a marvellous feast.
I am grateful for my job which I love despite the conditions of employment.
I am appreciative of each soul I encounter along the way and the lessons I am learning.
And I don't have a gun.
------------------- *
We had a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner featuring mostly vegetarian dishes and one bar-be-qued chicken. With only two people eating meat it seemed silly to make a turkey. I did make stuffing and a compote instead of a meat-based gravy. It was onion and mushroom, pear apple raisin and cinammon compote and it was absolutely delicious. We had mashed potatoes and butternut squash baked in a glaze, we had brussel sprouts and pickled beets and yummy pumpkin pie with fresh whipping cream for dessert.
I am thankful for such a marvellous feast.
I am grateful for my job which I love despite the conditions of employment.
I am appreciative of each soul I encounter along the way and the lessons I am learning.
And I don't have a gun.
------------------- *
8.10.06
Are we there yet?
Went to the Medical Specialist/Sadist this last week to find out how much longer my torture session will be. Part of me wants to remove all the hardware (and now!!!) but alas that would mean all was for naught!
And it hurt too much for that outcome...
One more year, he says.
One more year he hopes.
I can cope with that.
I did actually sleep soundly one night this last week, without medical intervention.
The trouble with looking healthy is that noone ever believes that there could possibly be anything troubling you. My injury had a strange side-effect leaving me with a permanent grimace/smirk. I look like I am always smiling.
Trust me it is a wince.
My jaw locks and my teeth grind and I scream in my head louder and louder.
Again this last week I had a day so bad that if I had a gun I would have shot my jaw off. I went to bed praying for better times loudly and sincerely.
3 days of migraine headaches and one night of abject terror in which I woke up everyone again shouting "NO MORE, NO MORE!"
I am going to go to see my Physician about Klonopin again....
Noone else can stand it when I scream at 3am.
The trouble is that I am left with a hangover effect but no memory of what transpired. Outside of a roaring headache that is...
----- *
Do you realise that I have spent far more money fixing my invisible but painful injury than I did on my home? Amazing is it not?
I take so much tylenol I have permanent residue that will live on long after me.
Still thinking about a trip to where opium is an option to see if I could actually have 1 week running of no pain.
---------*
If ever oh ever you are in an accident and noone but yourself thinks there is trauma of the long-lasting sort borrow beg or steal money for an MRI ---
and believe in yourself.
And it hurt too much for that outcome...
One more year, he says.
One more year he hopes.
I can cope with that.
I did actually sleep soundly one night this last week, without medical intervention.
The trouble with looking healthy is that noone ever believes that there could possibly be anything troubling you. My injury had a strange side-effect leaving me with a permanent grimace/smirk. I look like I am always smiling.
Trust me it is a wince.
My jaw locks and my teeth grind and I scream in my head louder and louder.
Again this last week I had a day so bad that if I had a gun I would have shot my jaw off. I went to bed praying for better times loudly and sincerely.
3 days of migraine headaches and one night of abject terror in which I woke up everyone again shouting "NO MORE, NO MORE!"
I am going to go to see my Physician about Klonopin again....
Noone else can stand it when I scream at 3am.
The trouble is that I am left with a hangover effect but no memory of what transpired. Outside of a roaring headache that is...
----- *
Do you realise that I have spent far more money fixing my invisible but painful injury than I did on my home? Amazing is it not?
I take so much tylenol I have permanent residue that will live on long after me.
Still thinking about a trip to where opium is an option to see if I could actually have 1 week running of no pain.
---------*
If ever oh ever you are in an accident and noone but yourself thinks there is trauma of the long-lasting sort borrow beg or steal money for an MRI ---
and believe in yourself.
The Crystal City
Strolling through the Crystal City and noticing the silence.
Even for a dreamscape, this is quiet.
The elevator goes up and sideways and always to the wrong floor. I wryly note that going up is an improvement. Not sure about the sideways things.
I come out to a mezzanine where there are other people. They are all grey.
They do not interact with me but I didn't expect them too.
Will I now look for my car? My house?
I pause and remember this is a dream, but knowing it does not awaken me.
My head is leaking. How very Freudian I think to myself but the ooze does not stop.
Stupid way to spend hours in which I could be studying the cosmos.
And yeah, I wake up now that I remember how to fly.
Even for a dreamscape, this is quiet.
The elevator goes up and sideways and always to the wrong floor. I wryly note that going up is an improvement. Not sure about the sideways things.
I come out to a mezzanine where there are other people. They are all grey.
They do not interact with me but I didn't expect them too.
Will I now look for my car? My house?
I pause and remember this is a dream, but knowing it does not awaken me.
My head is leaking. How very Freudian I think to myself but the ooze does not stop.
Stupid way to spend hours in which I could be studying the cosmos.
And yeah, I wake up now that I remember how to fly.
4.10.06
Very terribly awfully busy
It is just nuts out there for us!
More clients and fewer employees.
Today I worked with another new-to-me person and was less than impressed.
Oh dear.
I have a new thing I do to remind myself why I continue in a job that does not pay me what I am worth for a Government that takes every opportunity to remind me I mean nothing to them.... nothing but a number.
The starfish story is one I completely embrace. Hopefully I can find a URL to post up above and here.... * * *
(read it at this link here as the website is wonderful and I am indeed so grateful)
So each and every time I leave a home where it made a difference to that person that it was me and not someone else I do a little jig and say *Starfish~*
and I smile, sweet and long.
-----------
The Starfish
While walking along a beach, a man saw in the distance what looked like a boy dancing.
He was encouraged by the outward expression of someone dancing to the new day on the beach, and he approached the young man. As he got closer, he realized that the young man was actually running, leaning down, picking something up and then gently throwing it far into the ocean.
As he came closer, he saw thousands of starfish the tide had thrown onto the beach. Unable to return to the ocean during low tide, the starfish were dying. He observed the young man picking up the starfish one by one and throwing them back.
After watching the seemingly futile effort, the observer said to the young man, "There must be thousands of starfish on this beach. It would be impossible for you to get to all of them. There are simply too many. You can't possibly save enough to make a difference."
The young man smiled as he continued to pick up another starfish and toss it back into the ocean.
"It made a difference to that one," he replied.
The older man shook his head at the impossible optimism of the young man, and then turned away and walked home. That night, he sat for a long time thinking of the young man, and determined that the young man was really affecting the world and taking action to make a difference. Something that the older man would like to do. That night he slept fitfully. In the morning, he awoke, went down to the beach and found the young man again. Then together, they went along the beach shore tossing starfish back into the ocean.
--Author Unknown
More clients and fewer employees.
Today I worked with another new-to-me person and was less than impressed.
Oh dear.
I have a new thing I do to remind myself why I continue in a job that does not pay me what I am worth for a Government that takes every opportunity to remind me I mean nothing to them.... nothing but a number.
The starfish story is one I completely embrace. Hopefully I can find a URL to post up above and here.... * * *
(read it at this link here as the website is wonderful and I am indeed so grateful)
So each and every time I leave a home where it made a difference to that person that it was me and not someone else I do a little jig and say *Starfish~*
and I smile, sweet and long.
-----------
The Starfish
While walking along a beach, a man saw in the distance what looked like a boy dancing.
He was encouraged by the outward expression of someone dancing to the new day on the beach, and he approached the young man. As he got closer, he realized that the young man was actually running, leaning down, picking something up and then gently throwing it far into the ocean.
As he came closer, he saw thousands of starfish the tide had thrown onto the beach. Unable to return to the ocean during low tide, the starfish were dying. He observed the young man picking up the starfish one by one and throwing them back.
After watching the seemingly futile effort, the observer said to the young man, "There must be thousands of starfish on this beach. It would be impossible for you to get to all of them. There are simply too many. You can't possibly save enough to make a difference."
The young man smiled as he continued to pick up another starfish and toss it back into the ocean.
"It made a difference to that one," he replied.
The older man shook his head at the impossible optimism of the young man, and then turned away and walked home. That night, he sat for a long time thinking of the young man, and determined that the young man was really affecting the world and taking action to make a difference. Something that the older man would like to do. That night he slept fitfully. In the morning, he awoke, went down to the beach and found the young man again. Then together, they went along the beach shore tossing starfish back into the ocean.
--Author Unknown
29.9.06
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.
-bfd-
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.
-bfd-
27.9.06
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.
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.
26.9.06
Gone
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.
-------- *
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.
-------- *
24.9.06
18.9.06
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.
--------- ;)
AMOR • VERITAS • NATURA
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.
--------- ;)
AMOR • VERITAS • NATURA
15.9.06
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.
mmmm
12.9.06
Coming to a Condo near you!
Death!
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.
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.
9.9.06
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.)
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.)
8.9.06
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.
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.
----------------*----------------*----------------*----------------*
GONNA BE A BEAR!
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)
-----------*
NEWSFLASH! RE: ABOVE!!
--am already a bear!
haha
--handed to me by the ever wonderful Donna B.
----------------*----------------*----------------*----------------*
GONNA BE A BEAR!
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)
-----------*
NEWSFLASH! RE: ABOVE!!
--am already a bear!
haha
5.9.06
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.
---- *
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)
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)
3.9.06
Flashback!
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.
--ugh
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.
Ugh.
That wham and thud... I hope the pitcher is all right.
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.
--ugh
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.
Ugh.
That wham and thud... I hope the pitcher is all right.
1.9.06
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.
*ugh*
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)
hmph
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.
*ugh*
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)
hmph
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
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
31.8.06
Grateful
“While we pursue happiness, we flee from contentment.”
Hasidic Proverb
“Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of how much you already have.”
Too too true.
Hasidic Proverb
“Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of how much you already have.”
Too too true.
Joy Division
I posted about this before a few times I am sure.
Bill Joy is one of my small g gods.
I revere him in a way most unlikely.
I saved the original article from Wired and take it out to scare myself every now and then. A recent NOW was when the robotics show was aired on one of those American propaganda networks, prolly CNN. Funny how people will rally around the cause of one beached whale or one murdered little white girl but ignore huge societal changes with bliss. The world is markedly different now from when Bill Joy first wrote "Why the Future Doesnt Need Us" .
Is it better?
No. The glaring outpacing of technology over ethics is even more depressing in 2006 than it was in 1998.
bah humbug.
I do not want to be this way but I oh so am.
Bill Joy is one of my small g gods.
I revere him in a way most unlikely.
I saved the original article from Wired and take it out to scare myself every now and then. A recent NOW was when the robotics show was aired on one of those American propaganda networks, prolly CNN. Funny how people will rally around the cause of one beached whale or one murdered little white girl but ignore huge societal changes with bliss. The world is markedly different now from when Bill Joy first wrote "Why the Future Doesnt Need Us" .
Is it better?
No. The glaring outpacing of technology over ethics is even more depressing in 2006 than it was in 1998.
bah humbug.
I do not want to be this way but I oh so am.
o'Grady (I Am AN ABBY!)
I love o'Grady~
(da da da da da da, da da ---THE WEIRDNESS!)
If you follow the weblink you can WATCH episodes there.
I love it.
la-la-la-love
Watch the Bubbleheads episode.
Poor Kevin, his bubble is so lame.
30.8.06
Saving Others (against their will)
Is saving someone else from themselves ethical?
Is it necessary ever?
Can justification be used to intervene?
How about saving someone from another who wishes to save them?
Oh what a tangled web.
I was in a home today where a family member from afar has taken it upon themselves to move in (without invitation) and completely change the homeowners diet.
All very noble I am sure but... without consent?
It is very odd when someone tries to take away stability in the name of holistic healing. Should an individual wish to change themselves; sobeit.
But impressing yourself into a home and forcing change unasked?
The coffeemaker is gone.
The Tea and Coffee are gone.
All non-organic foods are gone.
Oh dear.
Won't be long before we are gone too.
----------- !!
Is it necessary ever?
Can justification be used to intervene?
How about saving someone from another who wishes to save them?
Oh what a tangled web.
I was in a home today where a family member from afar has taken it upon themselves to move in (without invitation) and completely change the homeowners diet.
All very noble I am sure but... without consent?
It is very odd when someone tries to take away stability in the name of holistic healing. Should an individual wish to change themselves; sobeit.
But impressing yourself into a home and forcing change unasked?
The coffeemaker is gone.
The Tea and Coffee are gone.
All non-organic foods are gone.
Oh dear.
Won't be long before we are gone too.
----------- !!
28.8.06
Timing is everything!
I believe in God.
I see his handiwork everywhere.
There was an event of confirmation the other day.
Sometimes shopping is so daunting I take the easiest possible routes.
This means going into drug stores for things like butter.
The price is better there anyway.
I did not pull into my regular area but parked a street behind.
I did not jump out of my car and zoom into the store in my usual manner.
I sat and leisurely listened to the end of a song.
As I came around the corner of the store I saw a very elderly woman on her knees; her walker a few feet away. Behind her a woman stood with a look of complete panic.
"Can I get some help here?"
You have to know elderly women cannot stay on those knees on cobblestones long.
You also have to know that the getting someone up is a knack.
Even well-trained people screw it up in a crisis.
I could see this well-intentioned woman was about to put her back out and most likely knock the woman over. But there is no time for such things so as the Samaritan is telling me to help get the woman up on the count of 3 I get the woman up. Then I see the blood. I have only gloves on me, but the uniform always lends authority.
"You stay here while I get the Pharmacist."
Bless his heart, he gloved up and brought out his kit and attended to the woman.
She was more embarressed than anything but being on blood-thinners she was bleeding hard in a few spots. All she could say was:
"Oh the Nurses are going to kill me when they see another skin tear."
I was going to offer to drive her home when I realised that likely she was in the best possible hands: God's.
--------------
I saw the Samaritan walking home.
She had a small child with her who was very serious.
As I drove by I honked and called out the window:
"Well done, good Samaritan. Good job!"
Both the Mom and the daughter walked a little straighter as they waved back.
You have to love that!
----------
An act of goodness is of itself an act of happiness. No reward coming after the event can compare with the sweet reward that went with it.
- Maurice Maeterlinck
I see his handiwork everywhere.
There was an event of confirmation the other day.
Sometimes shopping is so daunting I take the easiest possible routes.
This means going into drug stores for things like butter.
The price is better there anyway.
I did not pull into my regular area but parked a street behind.
I did not jump out of my car and zoom into the store in my usual manner.
I sat and leisurely listened to the end of a song.
As I came around the corner of the store I saw a very elderly woman on her knees; her walker a few feet away. Behind her a woman stood with a look of complete panic.
"Can I get some help here?"
You have to know elderly women cannot stay on those knees on cobblestones long.
You also have to know that the getting someone up is a knack.
Even well-trained people screw it up in a crisis.
I could see this well-intentioned woman was about to put her back out and most likely knock the woman over. But there is no time for such things so as the Samaritan is telling me to help get the woman up on the count of 3 I get the woman up. Then I see the blood. I have only gloves on me, but the uniform always lends authority.
"You stay here while I get the Pharmacist."
Bless his heart, he gloved up and brought out his kit and attended to the woman.
She was more embarressed than anything but being on blood-thinners she was bleeding hard in a few spots. All she could say was:
"Oh the Nurses are going to kill me when they see another skin tear."
I was going to offer to drive her home when I realised that likely she was in the best possible hands: God's.
--------------
I saw the Samaritan walking home.
She had a small child with her who was very serious.
As I drove by I honked and called out the window:
"Well done, good Samaritan. Good job!"
Both the Mom and the daughter walked a little straighter as they waved back.
You have to love that!
----------
An act of goodness is of itself an act of happiness. No reward coming after the event can compare with the sweet reward that went with it.
- Maurice Maeterlinck
22.8.06
Good Neighbours
Sitting having a leisurely breakfast at an ungodly hour and who should I spy sitting across from me but my neighbour.
"Drop by for a coffee some time."
She is a lovely woman just a few years older than I am.
We met "on the job" as she is a Nurse who was working in a local facility.
We met "on the job" again when what she thought to be a simple backache turned out to be cancer.
Now perhaps we can just be good neighbours.
-------- *
(Love this picture: it is a good philsophy to embrace)
"Drop by for a coffee some time."
She is a lovely woman just a few years older than I am.
We met "on the job" as she is a Nurse who was working in a local facility.
We met "on the job" again when what she thought to be a simple backache turned out to be cancer.
Now perhaps we can just be good neighbours.
-------- *
(Love this picture: it is a good philsophy to embrace)
Making the Grade
Three retired hairdressers are on my client list.
2 out of the 3 have been giving me alot of advice about getting my hair cut.
This is what they consider subtle.
Apparantly my hair is too long for their tastes.
Time has been very kind to me and I certainly would never complain about appearance except to say that I understand how frustrating it can be to look very good and feel very bad. Time did manage to remember to give me silver hair behind the ears.
The rest of my hair is still quite close to whatever colour it has been naturally.
I couldn't tell you as I only get up and wash my face, brush my teeth and get dressed not necessarily in that order. I do the hair thing in the car.
I do the make-up thing at the beach. I do the washing my hair thing before bed.
Color, well, that's a subjective thing. If I am indoors it seem to me to be auburn.
Outdoors, it definitly has that shiny red thing going on.
For dramatic purposes and stage-work, I had a colour put in my hair about 2 months ago and damn, it looked great for the event and about 3 more weeks. The colours faded to a terrible damaged-looking frazzle as they involved bleaching. These are the sorts of things you can't slide past retired hairdressers. Even ones in their upper nineties.
Today was hair day. Thinned, styled and straightened.
I should be good for a week or so.
ha-ha
--------------- *
_* hairdressers do it with style*_
__* hairdressers are a sheer delight *__
21.8.06
Basic Misunderstandings
Alas for humanity, the basic misunderstanding seems to be a core value.
If you were told someone were allergic to shellfish would you puree shrimp and slip it into their stew? Sometimes I feel as if my employer takes delight in continuing to force basic misunderstandings.
I am profoundly asthmatic thanks to some exposure to toxins in my lifetime.
I am triggered by pet dander and cigarette smoke as well as some household cleaners.
At considerable expense to myself, I have removed all carpet from my home and put in hardwood flooring. My beloved dog had to be given to the ex as my little place has no room that could be exclusively hers and no back yard. My little man with me now is a poodle-cross for that reason but I will never stop mourning the loss of my beautiful smart girl.
Working in a home environment, the best I can hope for is no pets no smoking.
The no smoking is an absolute on the worksite but being that we are going into homes, sometimes the client has smoked up a storm before we get there.
Most of the time, the schedulers are well aware of who smokes and who does not.
I was sent to a home yesterday that I got sick after.
24 hours later I am still sick. Once triggered, it isn't so easy to arrest attacks.
Medications keep me stable but vunerable.
And my employer, the people who really should know better, continue to basically misunderstand how such things happen.
wellness my ass.
If you were told someone were allergic to shellfish would you puree shrimp and slip it into their stew? Sometimes I feel as if my employer takes delight in continuing to force basic misunderstandings.
I am profoundly asthmatic thanks to some exposure to toxins in my lifetime.
I am triggered by pet dander and cigarette smoke as well as some household cleaners.
At considerable expense to myself, I have removed all carpet from my home and put in hardwood flooring. My beloved dog had to be given to the ex as my little place has no room that could be exclusively hers and no back yard. My little man with me now is a poodle-cross for that reason but I will never stop mourning the loss of my beautiful smart girl.
Working in a home environment, the best I can hope for is no pets no smoking.
The no smoking is an absolute on the worksite but being that we are going into homes, sometimes the client has smoked up a storm before we get there.
Most of the time, the schedulers are well aware of who smokes and who does not.
I was sent to a home yesterday that I got sick after.
24 hours later I am still sick. Once triggered, it isn't so easy to arrest attacks.
Medications keep me stable but vunerable.
And my employer, the people who really should know better, continue to basically misunderstand how such things happen.
wellness my ass.
17.8.06
Genevive
"I will never forget YOUR name dear."
She never does either.
When she was a little girl, she and her friend would play with two porcelain dolls.
"Only the very best, they were exquisite dear."
The dolls were from France, with handmade clothes that included kid gloves and shoes. Both had a change of clothes but the one doll with the sausage curls had high fashion clothes while the other doll with straighter hair was more demure in all ways. She remembers when she was 6 years old, and playing with those dolls was the highlight of the week.
She told me how she and her best friend would fight over which one would have the more elegant of the dolls. That was the one they called by my real name. They called the other doll "Genevive.
The two little girls never used any other than those two names for the dolls.
The two best names they could think of.
My client and I have progressed to the point where she just calls me Genevive all the time now. I always laugh and it amuses me now the way it did the very first time as finally, I guess I am the other doll.
--------- *
Housecoats and waiting
It is one of those things you recognise after a time; a sign as it were.
Generally it is an older woman in her 90s, but sometimes younger, who likes to sit in her housecoat and just wait. They do not tend to watch television or do crafts, they just wait.
If you were to ask them if they wanted help getting dressed they would politely respond: "Not today, dear" or some other polite refusal. Alot of them read but generally it is the same book or books at their side week after month after year.
If there are family members who drop in or God forbid, live with them, a frustration tends to develop over this change. Sometimes those feelings get transferred onto others, say ME. I generally shrug it off but sometimes, it gets under my skin.
I do understand, somewhat, the rational of the client as I have seen it so very many times. Family members want to think that the job of the HealthCare system is to motivate their Mother/Father/Uncle/whoever into doing what it is they want them to. Or forcing them to do something. It ain't me babe. I still believe the client's right to refuse supercedes all. After all, who hired us? Usually not the one in the Housecoat.
Family members want everything to be safe and secure and the way it always has been. But people change and that's normal. For every housecoat-wearing waiter, I have 15 or 20 vibrant 90 year olds out and about doing as much as they can.
And that's great too. But some of us are just tired and waiting.
And there is nothing wrong with that either. No matter what family members think do or say.
I have two of these sorts of clients on the same day.
Both of these women are elderly and mostly healthy.
Both of these women have serious memory loss, but not longterm memory loss.
I can go to either one of them and be filled with a spirit of love as I see the natural fruition of a live well-lived and well-loved.
These clients are very content with their lots in life.
Both of them have a son in the picture.
One son sighs and moans and complains about his own ailments and can't even manage to keep the kitchen clean after he makes toast, the other son makes mom breakfast and sighs also but without complaint. Both of their mothers are appreciative and happy.
Both of their mothers love to chat endlessly. They are self-actualised and really just sharing their wisdom. Granted, the stories are repetitious, but they don't know that. It is always new to them! Each one of these sons sees a situation differently although in reality, it is so very similar. Both of their mothers really just need companionship more than anything else.
Again we come back to grace.
One exercises it. The other expects it.
---------- *
Isaiah 40:31 - But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk and not faint.
Generally it is an older woman in her 90s, but sometimes younger, who likes to sit in her housecoat and just wait. They do not tend to watch television or do crafts, they just wait.
If you were to ask them if they wanted help getting dressed they would politely respond: "Not today, dear" or some other polite refusal. Alot of them read but generally it is the same book or books at their side week after month after year.
If there are family members who drop in or God forbid, live with them, a frustration tends to develop over this change. Sometimes those feelings get transferred onto others, say ME. I generally shrug it off but sometimes, it gets under my skin.
I do understand, somewhat, the rational of the client as I have seen it so very many times. Family members want to think that the job of the HealthCare system is to motivate their Mother/Father/Uncle/whoever into doing what it is they want them to. Or forcing them to do something. It ain't me babe. I still believe the client's right to refuse supercedes all. After all, who hired us? Usually not the one in the Housecoat.
Family members want everything to be safe and secure and the way it always has been. But people change and that's normal. For every housecoat-wearing waiter, I have 15 or 20 vibrant 90 year olds out and about doing as much as they can.
And that's great too. But some of us are just tired and waiting.
And there is nothing wrong with that either. No matter what family members think do or say.
I have two of these sorts of clients on the same day.
Both of these women are elderly and mostly healthy.
Both of these women have serious memory loss, but not longterm memory loss.
I can go to either one of them and be filled with a spirit of love as I see the natural fruition of a live well-lived and well-loved.
These clients are very content with their lots in life.
Both of them have a son in the picture.
One son sighs and moans and complains about his own ailments and can't even manage to keep the kitchen clean after he makes toast, the other son makes mom breakfast and sighs also but without complaint. Both of their mothers are appreciative and happy.
Both of their mothers love to chat endlessly. They are self-actualised and really just sharing their wisdom. Granted, the stories are repetitious, but they don't know that. It is always new to them! Each one of these sons sees a situation differently although in reality, it is so very similar. Both of their mothers really just need companionship more than anything else.
Again we come back to grace.
One exercises it. The other expects it.
---------- *
Isaiah 40:31 - But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk and not faint.
16.8.06
The Entertainer's Story au jour
I can't say I wasn't warned.
Here I am early in the morning at the Entertainer's house.
She is a chatty little thing, what with being a professional entertainer and all.
She is 91 and has yet to retire. She has done theatre, film, all things artistic....
she sings, she dances. STILL *HURRAH*
But I do not have alot of time here as my task is simple.
OR so it seems.
Some aspects of care require client participation. This is one such task.
But she is not co-operating as she wants to entertain me.
Even now. In her nightie. Early in the morning.
Now THAT'S dedication to your craft!
So this is her story to me:
There was a young couple who met in Church and agreed to go on a first date.
During dinner the young man leaned over to the young lady and asked:
"You do believe in the Hereafter do you not?"
"Well," she answered, "What do you mean by the "HereAfter?"
"Well it's like this", he answered looking into her eyes.
"If you're not here after what I'm here after, you'll be here after I'm gone."
---------*
Guess you had to be there
;)
Here I am early in the morning at the Entertainer's house.
She is a chatty little thing, what with being a professional entertainer and all.
She is 91 and has yet to retire. She has done theatre, film, all things artistic....
she sings, she dances. STILL *HURRAH*
But I do not have alot of time here as my task is simple.
OR so it seems.
Some aspects of care require client participation. This is one such task.
But she is not co-operating as she wants to entertain me.
Even now. In her nightie. Early in the morning.
Now THAT'S dedication to your craft!
So this is her story to me:
There was a young couple who met in Church and agreed to go on a first date.
During dinner the young man leaned over to the young lady and asked:
"You do believe in the Hereafter do you not?"
"Well," she answered, "What do you mean by the "HereAfter?"
"Well it's like this", he answered looking into her eyes.
"If you're not here after what I'm here after, you'll be here after I'm gone."
---------*
Guess you had to be there
;)
"Some Goon"
"Have I told you this before?"
"My mother-in-law was the biggest bore. She told the same old stories over and over again. It drove me crazy"
well... actually yes you have told me this before. You tell me every time I come. In the same ways, with the same enthusiasm and same twinkles in your eyes.
And I love it.
It reminds me of that movie "Groundhog Day."
Some people think its a comedy. I believe it is a commentary.
On grace. Finding grace in unlikely mundane places.
--- *
And so she told me this again.
" I moved to Winnipeg to help my sister. I can't remmeber why I moved there but we went skating every Friday night. It was just what young people did. There wasn't much to do and there wasn't any money although I guess we must have paid something to be there....
"I was sitting in the penalty box. My feet hurt. I looked up and this fellow skated by. I know this is horrible but I remember telling my cousin: "oh no, I think this goon is going to ask me to skate." Can you imagine? How awful I was.
But he asked me so very nicely and had such good manners and we had such a good time I did. And then he asked me to go out on Saturday night. Pretty soon we were dating regularly and by Christmas we were married.
We were planning for June but then he figured out he could claim me on his taxes for the whole year so we married in December.
I was his tax deduction."
----
Now, how sweet is that.
70 years later she remembers even the feeling of sore feet and looking up at him.
Some goon.
----- *
"My mother-in-law was the biggest bore. She told the same old stories over and over again. It drove me crazy"
well... actually yes you have told me this before. You tell me every time I come. In the same ways, with the same enthusiasm and same twinkles in your eyes.
And I love it.
It reminds me of that movie "Groundhog Day."
Some people think its a comedy. I believe it is a commentary.
On grace. Finding grace in unlikely mundane places.
--- *
And so she told me this again.
" I moved to Winnipeg to help my sister. I can't remmeber why I moved there but we went skating every Friday night. It was just what young people did. There wasn't much to do and there wasn't any money although I guess we must have paid something to be there....
"I was sitting in the penalty box. My feet hurt. I looked up and this fellow skated by. I know this is horrible but I remember telling my cousin: "oh no, I think this goon is going to ask me to skate." Can you imagine? How awful I was.
But he asked me so very nicely and had such good manners and we had such a good time I did. And then he asked me to go out on Saturday night. Pretty soon we were dating regularly and by Christmas we were married.
We were planning for June but then he figured out he could claim me on his taxes for the whole year so we married in December.
I was his tax deduction."
----
Now, how sweet is that.
70 years later she remembers even the feeling of sore feet and looking up at him.
Some goon.
----- *
15.8.06
Another Coincidence
There are so many vinyl covered homes in this area.... most of them less than 15 years old. This is paradise where all come to retire if they can afford it.
Somehow, the secret got out in the last few years. New neighbourhoods of vinyl-clad structures everywhere.
There is one development with approximatly 300 homes, that is a strata.
The homes are beautiful of course, and expensive, and back onto a golf course.
What else to do in paradise?
My client is a man.
After a few visits it is obvious his dementia is very much worse than documented.
During my visit he invites me to see his "other cat" and opens the door to his very much younger daughter's bedroom.
"What are you doing in here again? Get out of here!"
She clearly was not expecting him to come in.
She looks exasperated and he looks surprised.
We sit down for a chat and he tells me he is 100 years old.
When I look non-plussed he says:" Actually I am 101"
Then he tells me some whoppers.
He was a witty devil. I could see flashes of incredible humour and little shimmers of intellect. But mostly, he is confused.
I look out the back window to the golfcourse.
I remember this house too.
I was doing CPR here a few years back while awaiting an ambulance.
My client had gone out in the nighttime and smashed her head against the concrete.
She got up and fell again. More than once.
She had broken and cracked bones and ribs all over.
And she did NOT come home, although she is happily living in a Nursing home now.
That is another house I do not think I would move into.
------------- *
Somehow, the secret got out in the last few years. New neighbourhoods of vinyl-clad structures everywhere.
There is one development with approximatly 300 homes, that is a strata.
The homes are beautiful of course, and expensive, and back onto a golf course.
What else to do in paradise?
My client is a man.
After a few visits it is obvious his dementia is very much worse than documented.
During my visit he invites me to see his "other cat" and opens the door to his very much younger daughter's bedroom.
"What are you doing in here again? Get out of here!"
She clearly was not expecting him to come in.
She looks exasperated and he looks surprised.
We sit down for a chat and he tells me he is 100 years old.
When I look non-plussed he says:" Actually I am 101"
Then he tells me some whoppers.
He was a witty devil. I could see flashes of incredible humour and little shimmers of intellect. But mostly, he is confused.
I look out the back window to the golfcourse.
I remember this house too.
I was doing CPR here a few years back while awaiting an ambulance.
My client had gone out in the nighttime and smashed her head against the concrete.
She got up and fell again. More than once.
She had broken and cracked bones and ribs all over.
And she did NOT come home, although she is happily living in a Nursing home now.
That is another house I do not think I would move into.
------------- *
Deva Vu -- Voodo
I look at the name and address of the client of where I am going and it seems familiar although I am positive I do not know the name.
I am notoriously poor at names and, on balance, am equally notorious and great at numbers, so I have long ago given up on apologising. Harmony, you know.
I pull up to the home and experience profound deja-vu.
Going in, it is slightly out of sync, as if it is a memory of a half-forgotten dream. My client, is a woman needing assistance because of weakness.
She is not very elderly, but she is extremely frail.
She has had a recent mastectomy.
--- and now I remember ----
I was in this house 2 years ago.
My client at the time was dying of complications from breast cancer.
oh dear.
I recall feeling that the situation was very creepy because when I first began my rotations in this area one of my very first clients lived in this very house. A woman. A one-breasted woman dying of cancer.
So this is #3 home-owner in 5 years at the same address.
A perfectly ordinary home in a respectable area with other similar homes that I do not go to. This everyday house has had 3 owners that I knew intimately.
Three out of 3 with breast cancer final stages.
When that home comes on the market, I aint buying it.
---------
Coincidence is the word we use when we can't see the levers and pulleys.
Emma Bull
I am notoriously poor at names and, on balance, am equally notorious and great at numbers, so I have long ago given up on apologising. Harmony, you know.
I pull up to the home and experience profound deja-vu.
Going in, it is slightly out of sync, as if it is a memory of a half-forgotten dream. My client, is a woman needing assistance because of weakness.
She is not very elderly, but she is extremely frail.
She has had a recent mastectomy.
--- and now I remember ----
I was in this house 2 years ago.
My client at the time was dying of complications from breast cancer.
oh dear.
I recall feeling that the situation was very creepy because when I first began my rotations in this area one of my very first clients lived in this very house. A woman. A one-breasted woman dying of cancer.
So this is #3 home-owner in 5 years at the same address.
A perfectly ordinary home in a respectable area with other similar homes that I do not go to. This everyday house has had 3 owners that I knew intimately.
Three out of 3 with breast cancer final stages.
When that home comes on the market, I aint buying it.
---------
Coincidence is the word we use when we can't see the levers and pulleys.
Emma Bull
13.8.06
"The First Woman I had seen in 3 months!"
I think we both knew it was the last time I would be seeing him.
It was unimaginable to me that he could last another week, even though he had not yet slipped into unconsciousness. He had lost so much of his strength, but he was still hanging on. Probably for his wife.
Those longtime married men are so very honourable. Always worrying about their women. How refreshing. I love that.
He was comfortable in his bed and I was asking him about the plaque on the wall. It was a souvenir from long ago, a measure of the esteem in which he was held by others.
All of a sudden he got a look on his face; a glowing look.
"I remember the first time I saw her.
I was out in the bush for over 3 months. Can you imagine? The only time in my life I grew my beard. I looked like a bushman. And then we came out."
He told me he had been surveying for the Government out in the back of beyond.
"I love the forest. It is a part of me."
He told me that he and his coworker came out and stopped at a store.
"She was the first woman I had seen in 3 months. And that was that!"
That glow spread. He looked enraptured.
"I cleaned up pretty good and I went back in and asked her to a dance in the town.
I brought her home late and made a date for the next day. Then I took her out rowing, me and the music."
I nodded. Wait a minute... they have been married 66 years.
What kind of music would this be in 1939 wilderness?
"Sir, did you sing?"
"Oh yes. But mostly it was the old machine. You know... the kind you crank up. I brought all my best music and we took it out on the Lake."
"A Victrola?"
"Yes yes that's it. I cranked it up and we danced under the stars and I asked her to marry me."
"After 2 days and 2 dates?"
"Yes ma'am, she was the only one for me."
I can well believe that!
He is gone now of course.
He let her go at last.
--------------- *
It was unimaginable to me that he could last another week, even though he had not yet slipped into unconsciousness. He had lost so much of his strength, but he was still hanging on. Probably for his wife.
Those longtime married men are so very honourable. Always worrying about their women. How refreshing. I love that.
He was comfortable in his bed and I was asking him about the plaque on the wall. It was a souvenir from long ago, a measure of the esteem in which he was held by others.
All of a sudden he got a look on his face; a glowing look.
"I remember the first time I saw her.
I was out in the bush for over 3 months. Can you imagine? The only time in my life I grew my beard. I looked like a bushman. And then we came out."
He told me he had been surveying for the Government out in the back of beyond.
"I love the forest. It is a part of me."
He told me that he and his coworker came out and stopped at a store.
"She was the first woman I had seen in 3 months. And that was that!"
That glow spread. He looked enraptured.
"I cleaned up pretty good and I went back in and asked her to a dance in the town.
I brought her home late and made a date for the next day. Then I took her out rowing, me and the music."
I nodded. Wait a minute... they have been married 66 years.
What kind of music would this be in 1939 wilderness?
"Sir, did you sing?"
"Oh yes. But mostly it was the old machine. You know... the kind you crank up. I brought all my best music and we took it out on the Lake."
"A Victrola?"
"Yes yes that's it. I cranked it up and we danced under the stars and I asked her to marry me."
"After 2 days and 2 dates?"
"Yes ma'am, she was the only one for me."
I can well believe that!
He is gone now of course.
He let her go at last.
--------------- *
12.8.06
The Guest
Language barrier?
Bad manners?
Patience at an end?
I have no idea why but my guest acted very badly on her last morning here.
Making it clear that we had to leave the house by 06:30 to get her to her bus by 06:45 seemed easy until 06:30 when her door was still tightly shut and every question was answered by "Yes?"
--arg---
at 06:40 everything of hers was put in the car (against her will) and we drove down the highway at speeds best left undiscussed. I had shuffled my clientelle so that I was able to drop her off. This, like the rest of the morning seemingly meant nothing to her. Suddenly, from the back seat I hear a little scream.
"Back! Back! My uniform! Back!"
Seems she left her blouse to her school uniform on a hanger on the back of the room door. When she realised I was not going to turn the car around she began to have a little fit.
"MY TEACHER TOLD ME 07:30! I NEED UNIFORM"
Pulled into the school where her bus waited. The rest of her group were tearing up and hugging their hostfamilies. She refused to look at me.
I told her English liason teacher the problem and underlined the fact that I __could not__ get home for the uniform and her to the bus and get to work.
They sent a cab to my house to pick it up and take it to the ferry.
She got on bus sulkily and steadfastly refused to look out the window.
I dont know....
It kinda killed the goodwill.
Bad manners?
Patience at an end?
I have no idea why but my guest acted very badly on her last morning here.
Making it clear that we had to leave the house by 06:30 to get her to her bus by 06:45 seemed easy until 06:30 when her door was still tightly shut and every question was answered by "Yes?"
--arg---
at 06:40 everything of hers was put in the car (against her will) and we drove down the highway at speeds best left undiscussed. I had shuffled my clientelle so that I was able to drop her off. This, like the rest of the morning seemingly meant nothing to her. Suddenly, from the back seat I hear a little scream.
"Back! Back! My uniform! Back!"
Seems she left her blouse to her school uniform on a hanger on the back of the room door. When she realised I was not going to turn the car around she began to have a little fit.
"MY TEACHER TOLD ME 07:30! I NEED UNIFORM"
Pulled into the school where her bus waited. The rest of her group were tearing up and hugging their hostfamilies. She refused to look at me.
I told her English liason teacher the problem and underlined the fact that I __could not__ get home for the uniform and her to the bus and get to work.
They sent a cab to my house to pick it up and take it to the ferry.
She got on bus sulkily and steadfastly refused to look out the window.
I dont know....
It kinda killed the goodwill.
Grace and Anger
With less than a modicum of grace, I find myself on the listening end of a long-winded siloloquy on the virtues of the Home Help. The Home Help I hired.
Everything but raising the dead is lauded to the Home Help.
Well, we all make our beds. Sleeping in them and complaining is routine around here.
Just a moment while I find my hairshirt.
And adjust the nails.
------ *
Everything but raising the dead is lauded to the Home Help.
Well, we all make our beds. Sleeping in them and complaining is routine around here.
Just a moment while I find my hairshirt.
And adjust the nails.
------ *
11.8.06
Hearing a Truth
I just got a call from mr. macho.
"Well the Assessment was done on me today. I am now a "frail elderly Veteran".
I missed my cue.
I was supposed to say something like: "Only in words."
or even better: "no of course you are not!"
I said: "So go with it."
Dead silence.
Oh well.
Truths can be hard to hear
"Well the Assessment was done on me today. I am now a "frail elderly Veteran".
I missed my cue.
I was supposed to say something like: "Only in words."
or even better: "no of course you are not!"
I said: "So go with it."
Dead silence.
Oh well.
Truths can be hard to hear
10.8.06
More Clues
The wonderfully elegant woman I know has bedhead today.
Her fine features are marred by a terrible skin condition as yet undiagnosed.
She is sleeping in the living room on the couch, and is utterly convinced that someone is trying to break in to her home.
I used to check on her once a week.
We would chat about things and I would discreetly check the home for signs of medication misusage. She does not intentionally overdose herself but there are times when memory slips and pain yells.
Today, I decide to flip the cushions on the couch when she has excused herself to freshen up. I take off the covers and notice they have alot of cathair in them.
I see something small shoot across the room. Something pinkish.
Tracking it down, I realise it is one of her morning medications.
I decide to check the sides of the couch.
Putting my hand down the side, the one where she sits, I find a little stash of medications. Pink ones, yellow ones, white ones, blue ones.
Oh dear.
I find some antibiotics, in fact I find about 8 doses of them.
Sometimes, a lock is necesssary to protect a person from their own best intentions.
------------------ *
Her fine features are marred by a terrible skin condition as yet undiagnosed.
She is sleeping in the living room on the couch, and is utterly convinced that someone is trying to break in to her home.
I used to check on her once a week.
We would chat about things and I would discreetly check the home for signs of medication misusage. She does not intentionally overdose herself but there are times when memory slips and pain yells.
Today, I decide to flip the cushions on the couch when she has excused herself to freshen up. I take off the covers and notice they have alot of cathair in them.
I see something small shoot across the room. Something pinkish.
Tracking it down, I realise it is one of her morning medications.
I decide to check the sides of the couch.
Putting my hand down the side, the one where she sits, I find a little stash of medications. Pink ones, yellow ones, white ones, blue ones.
Oh dear.
I find some antibiotics, in fact I find about 8 doses of them.
Sometimes, a lock is necesssary to protect a person from their own best intentions.
------------------ *
6.8.06
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.
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.
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.
4.8.06
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.
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.
3.8.06
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.
"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.
30.7.06
"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.)
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.)
24.7.06
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.
----------- *
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.
----------- *
21.7.06
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.
------- *
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.
------- *
16.7.06
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.
;)
--------
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.
;)
--------
13.7.06
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.
---------------- *
Never let it be said my powers of persuasion are anything but formidable.
---------------- *
10.7.06
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.....
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.....
8.7.06
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.
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.
------------ *
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.
------- +
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.
------- +
7.7.06
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.
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.
5.7.06
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!!
---------------
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!!
---------------
2.7.06
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