For cryin' out loud!

Okay. it's been awhile, but I have a rant at last. And no, it's not about what I got or didn't get for Christmas. Christmas was great, as a matter of fact. We are very blessed, I know that for sure. We have a wonderful loving family without any of that discordant dysfunction that seems to be so popular these days. Oh we have our moments, but what we know for sure, is that we all love each other, and are each other's greatest support system.
But I digress,as is often my habit...
On the news Christmas Day, there was a long segment about the warming temperatures and varying snow conditions. There were interviews with avalanche patrols about the critical danger levels in BC's back country with advice from the experts to stay out. I said to Bob, "you watch, in the next few days some assholes will get themselves killed." And sure enough, eight people, "experienced, fully equipped" but apparently incredibly stupid and selfish, get themselves wiped out by an avalanche in Sparwood. Not only do they impact their relations, who are left to mourn, including little children who will now grow up without their fathers, but they endanger a whole mess of other people's lives who find it their duty to find their remains. This makes me so angry. It's not enough that they pollute the serenity of the back country with their noisy, gas guzzling machinery, but then they do so when it is unsafe, ruin people's lives(besides their own) and cause a pall of sadness to fall over the human community. Boy, I hope that last trip was good for them. I am MAD at them. I can hardly watch the news, as I start spouting off, and sounding very self righteous and judgmental, which in most areas of my life, I try hard not to be.So I thought if I wrote it down, I could get over it, and feel compassion for the survivors.
Maybe someone could explain to me the draw of snowmobiling/snowshoeing/skiing that make people do it in OBVIOUS and well publicized danger. What made these people turn their backs on the warnings and do it anyways: a suicidal undertaking, as surely as if they had driven over a cliff!!! And now we are meant to feel sorry, what a tragedy that this happened, and who can we blame this time...
No my friends, This is NOT a tragedy, this was sheer unadulterated stupidity, selfish and thoughtless satisfaction of an urge with NO thought to the consequences.
WHAT in my opinion, is a tragedy, you may ask? An eight year old girl, opening the door on Christmas Eve to Santa Clause, and getting shot in the face, then witnessing Santa go on a shooting rampage and subsequently setting the house on fire, killing nine family members, and then surviving: THAT is a tragedy. Dear God, I hope this girl has a really good support system, and I hope it was not her father, who did the shooting. Because then , aside from her having to heal from her physical injuries, she would have to heal from the psychic trauma of having a father who turned out to be a maniac murderer, who them killed himself, leaving no opportunity to get explanations or answers. Could there be any, other than insanity? So sad, so tragic, so unbelievably pointless. I pray for that family, that life will ge on and that somehow, someday, forgiveness and understanding may be theirs, because only then, will they be free.
Okay, now I feel better...

November already

Where does the time go???Isn't that what old people say all the time? Lots has happened and it seemed like it was time to unload a bit. Of course the highlight of September was the occasion of my "retirement" My last day of work was particularly satisfying as I spent it in PAR, and the day was especially enjoyable. They had a pot luck luncheon that day, as they always do when people leave, and this day was no different. Lots of people including the docs came by to eat of course(they'll do anything for food) and say good bye. Like they've seen the last of me. No such luck. I have every intention of continuing to work, just on my terms, when and where I want. On the Monday was my retirement party, a dinner at the"Curry Pot" in downtown Vernon. It was well attended and I felt very special. For a retirement gift, I received a gift certificate for painting lessons from Maureen Krause, a very talented acrylic artist whose work I have respected for some time. Also I was given a certificate for supplies which will augment what Bob and the kids had given me for my bd. So that was all pretty cool.
Then the jaunt down to Vancouver and back, for a visit with Joan, my best friend from training, at her home in Maple Ridge. We had lots of fun; whenever we get together it feels like we are girls again, giggling about the same immature stuff that we did when we were 20. Harry made himself scarce, which was nice, as I certainly don't have much in common with him. He is a very successful business man who spends every spare minute watching sports on TV. However Joan seems to like him just fine(She works full time plus, so I suspect they don't spend a huge amount of time together, that would make him more tolerable I guess...)
Spent part of one day with Larry, my old buddy from ER days, who is aging quickly and seems to have given up on looking presentable for the ladies(or men, I'm not quite sure) His mother proving to be a terrible albatross around his neck, is totally dependent on him and is insistent that she and he move in together(his father died a year ago)She is quite young, in her mid sixties i think. He seems at his wits end, but thankfully it is not my problem. I hope that just my listening helped him sort out things in his head.
On the Saturday night, Joan and I went to our 35 yr reunion, at Deer Lake Restaurant in Burnaby. There were 28 of us there, mostly the same ones that have been there at previous reunions. It was quite fun but the party was over early, attesting to our advancing ages, and progressively less tolerance to alcohol and sleep deprivation.
After a Sunday quietly spent with Ruth, my bosom buddy, while Bill was at work (I had the world's worst head cold) I headed back home on the Monday. We changed our mind about going to Edmonton as I didn't think it was kind of me to share my virus with my brother or great nieces(their mother would never forgive me) so we spent a pleasant week together, pretending we were both retired, as Bob was on vacation. I procrastinated about packing for Indonesia, thinking I had LOTs of time. Did some shopping (Value Village for appropriate clothing to wear in a Muslim country) and had company over for Thanksgiving dinner on the weekend. Our anniversary was in there as well, spent it quietly and we elected to have dinner at home, Bob cooked Toast and Eggs(his specialty) made all the more special by the cheese he grated over all! What a guy!
Then on Tuesday, upon direction of my travel agent, I tried to confirm my seat with Singapore Airlines, only to find that they rejected my passport, as it was set to expire in less than 6 months. That started a chain of events that saw us rushing down to Vancouver for an emergency passport application and all that it involves. It was a pretty stressful time but on the positive side it took my mind away from the actual trip. It was tempting to throw it all into the wind and say, gee it wasn't meant to be. But that would have been a cop out, because I was SOOO tempted to do just that. The rest is history and can be found to a certain degree, in my travel blog, www.bobana.travellerspoint.com
So now I have been home for 5 days. By the end of the trip, I was exhausted , having been up an unprecedented 28 hrs prior to my arrival home. I did, perhaps, have one or two half hour naps during the long flight, but invariably was awakened by one of my seat mates needing to pee. Sheesh. I was also unbelievable cranky, and was increasingly irritable with my roommate Linda, whose chronic cheerfulness really started to grate on my nerves. I am SUCH a bitch sometimes, it is surprising that I have any friends at all!
In hindsite, the trip was an amazing experience, although not the least bit fun, nor even THAT fulfilling. I do hope that I, as part of the team, contributed somewhat to the health and well being of some of the people.
The Christian aspect of the project seemed empty and insincere, in my perception. Every morning there was a rushed"devotion" in the time period after breakfast, before the bus arrived to take us to Klampok. Mathias was particularly disappointing to me, it seems he talks the talk but doesn't walk the walk. His testimony conflicts with the cold way he treats people, especially his aloofness with the people who we were there to help.Some of them just wanted to shake his hand and thank him after the surgery and he acted as though it was a hardship to take the time to do that. It was always rush rush rush, as though nothing was as important as numbers. If Ione and I got to sit for 15 minute for our lunch it was a miracle, he would already be pacing, waiting for us to get back into the OR. I thought this experience would make me warm up to him (as he has been my ophthalmologist for 8 yrs) and I would see a softer, warmer side of him, but alas, it appears he doesn't have one...
The positive aspects of the experience were the Indonesian people, who were largely friendly and welcoming, and very warm. The scenery was spectacular, and I was only sorry I didn't get more chances to photograph it. My roommate was sweet and unbelievable tolerant, and chronically good natured; Pollyanna would be amazed. The weather was actually pretty nice, what we saw of it. Luckily the rainy season had started otherwise I think the heat would have been intolerable. It was extremely humid some days, and I was very thankful to be working in the air-conditioned OR. The group was a good one for the most part, although we were pretty isolated from them during those long days in the OR. Evenings I had no energy left to stay up and socialize after supper.
I am working on making a book about my experience, and am hoping I will get some photos sent to me from other group members. And of course I hope some of the others will want to buy a copy of the book so I can start making some money with my Heritage Makers business... At which point I must point out, that in December's Oprah magazine, she lists Heritage Makers as one of her all time favorite things!!! That should be good for business!
There, that is that. I am still unbelievable happy to be at home and with my Bobby. I missed him more than ever and continually would think about what he might be doing. I kept track of what time it was at home which was 15 hrs behind the time that it was in Indonesia. Isn't that pathetic for someone who has been married to the same man for 34 years???
Well, this wasn't exactly a rant, but just verbalizing some of my feeling. Boring as it may have been for other readers, for which I am sorry. Til next time!

loyalty rewarded (or not)

About a week ago, at an evening dinner/staff meeting, at which we were all a bit surprised to see our grand kahuna (the Director of Surgical services for the North Okanagan) I received a special presentation. It turns out the reason she had come, was to present me with my TEN YEAR SERVICE PIN! I, like most of the other people there, was speechless, not by the amazing thoughtfulness of Interior Health for presenting me with this genuine sterling silver lapel pin with its telling IH swoosh (which has some deep significance that I have forgotten), rather, by the fact that it was a TEN YEAR Pin. What the....?I have been working at the same hospital, according to my calculations, for 22 years, since March 1986, when I selfishly uprooted my family, and made them move some 400 miles to the east, so I could take a job as Critical Care float at the Vernon Jubilee Hospital. I was tickled to be here and they were lucky to have me(they were terribly short of CC nurses back then, not like now(haha)). It was a win-win situation. Nine short months later, my part time job as a float became a full time one in the ER, something I stuck with for 12 years, finally burning out as a result of substandard staffing levels, and an increasing feeling of impending doom, if I didn't get the heck out of Dodge. So, in 1998 after having spent a fair bit of my own money and time taking palliative care courses by correspondence, I applied for and won a casual position in the community(Home Care as it was then called) In order to do that I had to leave my full time job, so I converted my status, ie I did not quit, to casual, at the hospital as well, to allow me an opportunity to spread my wings and get back to a career that I loved. Moreover, by now, everything: the hospital, the community and whatever else there is , was all blanketed by the grand quilt known as the Interior Health Authority. Bad enough that by changing to casual status, my accumulated sick time(some 750 hrs) and vacation time was deleted from the records, never to find its rightful way back to me, even three years later when I returned to a regular Part time position in PAR (due to health reasons which interfered with my driving abilities, and a need for benefits)
Now here it is 2008 and on IH's records, they have me listed as having a start date of June 4th 1998, which was approximately when I started with home care. So somewhere in the vast wasteland that is the records of the entire Interior Health Region, my first 12 years of work at VJH, has slipped into oblivion. So, any wonder that I was less than thrilled to get that service pin??? As it was I think I was pretty darn polite and put on a pretty little, appropriately grateful fake smile, for it was not this lady's fault, she only arrived on the scene in 2000. And she later told me that she gets these pins in bulk in a big brown envelope with instructions to distribute them tastefully.
So what did I do, you may wonder. I wrote a mostly polite but obviously irrate letter to the Chief Human Resources Officer for Interior Health in Kelowna enclosing the said pin so it can be regifted to someone withonly 10 yrs of service. I also sent copies to my boss, the administrator (or whatever the modern title is now) of the hospital, and the director of Employee and Labor relations, as well as my union steward. Now it is a waiting game.
Why the big deal? First of all, being denied appropriate credit for years served, affects my severance pay at retirement, which in case you, dear reader, need reminding, takes place in 9 short days. Secondly it feels like a sharp kick in the head, to have twelve years of my working life negated, or made to be non existent. I really don't want to end my working relationship with IH on a negative note, and then carry that bitterness with me into retirement. I have seen that happen to a former coworker, and it is not pretty. So I am staying positive with hope that the records will be corrected without me having to resort to a grievance, which I have managed to avoid until this point.
Are you bored beyond belief? Well it's not like you didn't have warning that this would be a rant, Re-read the title of this blog, honey. Another day, I will amuse you with my wit and candor, but today is a rant day.

Thoughts on getting older

Another birthday under my belt. Wow, fifty seven years old. To be honest I feel like an imposter. A young perhaps a bit immature, liberal minded thirty something woman in a 57yr old(hence forth to be known a FSYOs)body. FSYOs should be fairly sure of the way they feel about life, be wise with all their experience, and know definitely whether they believe in life after death. They shouldn't be waffling between about complete surety one day, and total skepticism the next. Also FSYOs, in my view, shouldn't relish gobbling down candy with as much relish as the little girl in me enjoys doing. And I still can't knit. Shouldn't a woman my age be knitting themselves silly, preparing entire layettes for grandchildren, present or future? At present, it appears I'll never have any of those so there's no sense even learning to knit, probably biting my lower lip needlessly in the attempt. Perhaps it's all my fault, this grandchildlessness. The great Planner doesn't see me as being a mature enough FSYO to be the grandmother to any child...Ah well, so be it. I won't need to worry about him/her attending a crystal meth/ecstacy party when he/she is thirteen either. Something to be said for freedom from that worry when I am seventy.
Yesterday, with a couple of friends, I attended the Superwalk for Parkinson's at Polson Park. There were about 50 of us there, a somewhat sad showing for a common disease. I guess it just isn't as trendy as, say, breast cancer, or any cancer for that matter. Most people(although not all) with Parkinsons are elderly and get hidden away in nursing homes or other sorts of facilities. The young(of whom I now know three (including MJF)) who get it are however are severely impacted in their lives and because it isn't such a trendy ailment, it is not as socially acceptable as the aforementioned conditions.
After the walk we went to brunch out at Friesens. While there, I saw a man, a very young man, perhaps 22 or so, who had a facial deformity that I have only ever seen on TV. His face was grossly enlarged and contorted, with nodules protruding from every surface, some type of tumor I would assume(neuroblastoma?) It appeared that he couldn't speak normally, and even eating appeared to be somewhat of a challenge. He was with a friend and the most amazing thing about it was that he appeared like he wasn't aware that he was any different that anyone else! I wanted so badly to study him, go up to him and ask him what it felt like to be so different yet appear not to care. To ask him from whence he obtained his confidence or was it just plain courage??? But studying him would be perceived as rudely staring, and compassionate interest would be interpreted as morbid curiosity. Sheesh, and here I am continually being self conscious about some part of me, well, mainly my larger than average rear end, and I often imagine that people speaking are rudely or laughing about me. Really, is that mature??? Is that what other FSYOs do? I doubt it, but like I always say , i yam whadiyam! Perhaps some day I will get to that stage in my life where I am totally confident and content about who and what I am. I keep getting that poetic email from people, that implies that I should be there by now. Am somedays I feel totally like that, not giving a shit about what people think of me, physically or otherwise, and then those other days... I can't even blame it on hormones anymore as i am clean out of those. So perhaps I am destined to remain permanently (although sporadically) immature and unsure of who and why I am...In the meantime, I will go day by day, keep my chin up, as it makes the 2nd and 3rd ones less conspicuous. Often I find if I focus more on others, rather than myself, I am much happier, and generally if I spend to much time thinking about myself and my shortcomings, I get grumpier and more depressed. So I work at it, and especially now on the threshold of retirement, it will be a challenge for me to utilize my time in a creative and productive manner, and to stay out of that rut of self deprecation.

Addicted

Okay I confess: I am an addict. I cannot control myself. I had to have it. Even as I spoke firmly to myself, and said, Anna my dear, you don't need it and it is not good for you, I bought it anyway. And I bought it somewhat hastily, so no one I knew would see me, and the minute I got in the car, I checked all around to see no one was looking, and then I USED... And it was GOOD!
Approximately 20 pieces of dutch licorice(aka zoute droppies) later, nausea set in and I distinctly remembered the acute attack of vertigo I had the last time I imbibed. I scrunched the top of the little paper baggie up tight and hid it in the bottom of the grocery bag from whence it came. I tried to tell myself, oh you didn't have that many, and at least it wasn't zwart wit (which translates to blackwhite) a little pill shaped candy consisting of a half tablet of light brown salt, glued to another tablet of ivory colored salt. It is very good and vaguely tastes like sweet very salty licorice. Hmmm my mouth waters even as we speak...Anyhow as I was saying, at least I had NONE of those little blood pressure pills(The kind that increase it) I did however have the ones called Krijt (white ones that resemble chalk, hence the name) Whoever thought up the idea of making a candy resembling something that you write with, on a blackboard no less. And I also had the little black salty fish covered in sugar, to tittilate all of the taste buds at once. And the little soft chewy brown cubes, also covered in sugar, not quite as salty but yummy none the less. When we were young in Lethbridge, Mr Schalk came around to the door on Saturday mornings with baked goods, especially Dutch imports, and we, my sister and I , were mostly interested in the "droppies"( named so because eventually they WILL make you drop dead of a stroke) Back then I especially like the big diamond shaped extra salty (Dubbel zout) slabs(they were about 4 inches long) that you could just lick and lick, til they got thin, and then you shoved the whole thing in your mouth and chewed your little heart out. DELICIOUS... And our parents supported this habit, that is they actually paid for this "candy"
People it seems, that is the non-Dutch , are either programmed to either love the stuff or hate it. I have a theory that it is a genetic trait, this love for insanely salty lumps of black stuff. One of my daughters likes it, and the other hates it... Their father of course frowns dreadfully whenever I bring it anywhere close to the house which was the reason for my hiding it, and subsequently discreetly throwing the remainders in the garbage and burying it deep amongst wet stinky other stuff (so I wouldn't be tempted to dig it out later) He remembers helping me to the bathroom when the room was spinning so badly I couldn't walk, the night after a day of gorging on the stuff. I think today I only used enough to make my craving subside, and so far I feel no untoward effects. The size of the bags under my eyes in the morning will be a true indicator of just how much of a droppie-pig I was.
So no, its not crack cocaine, or crystal meth, or heroin, but it is white(salt, that is), and it does temporarily make me lose all reason, with regards to my health. Luckily it isn't too expensive so it doesn't affect the family budget and drive us to bankruptcy, and really, today is the first time in about two years that I have given in to this craving and then only because I happened to be in a store with a BULK BIN OF DROPPIES, which I truly feel should be against the law... And really, I don't HAVE to have it. I can quit any time... its not like I NEED it...
Bob has gone to bed, I wonder whether he took the garbage out...

just some inner musings

A day off at last. Two long days, the end of which left me tired of being so NICE all the time. And tired of dealing with people that have NO common sense. What happened to common sense, anyways? did it go out of style? Shheeeeshhh...
Yes dearie, it is time to retire.
After verbalizing my desire to go with the team to Indonesia in October, which conveniently leaves a few days after we get home from Edmonton, I ran it past the Bobber who didn't object too strenously, which I chose to interpret as approval. I then emailed Mathias, indicating my interest, and he responded within minutes, seemingly gleefully, and told me the steps to take next. Now I am waiting for response to my application to MMI, wondering if they will accept me. They are a Christian organization and one of their question was church affiliation, to which I honestly had to respond as "NONE" having been ousted from my childhood church for non attendance...So perhaps they will reject my participation, and if so, so be it. Not belonging or attending a church makes me no less Christian than the next guy, so whatever happens, I will accept with good grace. I am hoping to go however, as i would get to work in the context of a scrub nurse (my old love from training) assisting with cataract surgery. And the experience of another foreign country would be interesting as well. My 3 weeks in Nicaragua in 2000 was life changing for me, totally changed my attitude towards STUFF... and added immensely to my gratitude level.
We shall see where this leads. Gotta admit i am checking my email rather frequently.
Am looking forward to my sisters visit this weekend, and her hubby of course. We will spend some time at the fair, and hope it doesn't rain too much. And then there is the cowboy cookout up at Lone Pine, that was so fun the last time we went, and I thought they would enjoy it as well. Too bad I have to work Friday, but on the other hand, my friend is having her gall bladder out that day, so I am glad I will be there to look after her.
Time is marching on. Thirteen more work days until the big R day. Yippee! I am so looking forward to an entire month away from that hospital(at least) It won't exactly be a relaxing month, but just not having to go there is really appealing.
I guess that is enough procrastination for one day, gotta do some housework.

Sunday peace

Having sent my husband and daughter out to play finding geocaches(something that JUST does not appeal to me), I am enjoying a quiet day to myself. A person needs one of those now and again. I have the Sirius radio on an old country channel and am enjoying the music that takes me back to s simpler time.
Does getting older,I wonder rhetorically, cause you to spend more time thinking about the past and how it has affected the person you are today? Having just written a small storybook about my disabled brother for his grandchildren, I spent a lot of time poring over old pictures and thinking of long ago events. Now I have had requests to adapt the book for other 2nd and 3rd generation family members so am mulling over that possibility. And my children are still quite insistent that I should put all my stories together as my memoir, but I'm not sure that would be interesting to anyone. But it would be fun to do for sure. And I enjoy writing. Some day when I have more time.
I haven't ranted for a while... hhhmmmm lets see what has ticked me off lately? I can't think of anything at the moment. I need to remember to do it the MINUTE I am irritated, as otherwise it just slips by me. I could of course start on the media, and how in my opinion distort people's perception of how things are, with regards to just about everything. And about the way they shove microphones and cameras in the faces of newly aggrieved families to get a fresh and emotion-laden response. NOTHING makes me angrier, and if I was on the receiving end of that mike/camera combo, they would get a response that they definitely could not air...I used to think criminal defense lawyers were the scum of the earth but many journalists are not far behind. Having said that, journalism is a fine and honorable career, and I for one can appreciate the appeal of writing ones opinions, and getting paid for the honor. But when it becomes a matter of digging for sensationalism and exploitation of people going though crises, it makes me spit nails, in the words of a former head nurse, way back in my checkered past. (see what I mean?)what does that mean anyways, "checkered past" I have always assumed it means less than lily-white. Isn't every one's past somewhat checkered then? Because not one of us has led a perfect life, it just isn't human.Perhaps they have led a life that appears to be uncheckered,ie lily white, but it is all a facade, because sure as the sky is blue, if you dig deep enough, there will be a few black checkers amongst those of ivory. But, I digress...
Anyhow, I've had my say about yellow sap sucking journalists that prey on the unfortunate, the unlucky, and those that have made mistakes but seem never to be allowed to put these behind them. So I'll be done with that then...
Gotta get back to the housewifely duties of folding clothes and planning dinner...

Thanks for the rain!

The weather. It is always there. And people are NEVER happy about it. The sun shines and it gets hot for a few days and everyone is sighing, and tired, and worrying about the drought that is inevitable and how global warming is upon us in apocalyptic proportions, and on and on and on. And how it is predicted to be the most serious forest fire season ever, as bad as 2003... the Kelowna fire year. And then, praises be, it rains. Not just a few drops here and there, but pour down saturate the ground type of rain, that we should be thanking our Creator for. But no, what do the people do? They whine and complain: wettest August in history, imagine it being so cold in August, how fair is THAT for those of us who take vacations in August.
Not me. I am so happy, I hate it when it is hot, especially if I have to be anywhere where there is pavement. Probably a sign of aging(yet another one) this intolerance for temperature extremes. The thought of a move to Victoria or somewhere else on the south island is appealing although I am quite convinced that it will fall into the ocean one day, when the big one hits. So lets not do that. We'll just stay in our quiet little hot/cold town and put up with the weather. And try not to complain too much.
I am reading the book "Three Cups of Tea" Wow, what an amazing story about an even more amazing man. Greg Mortenson, wouldn't I like to meet him one day. How wonderfully fulfilling it must be to have found one's purpose in life. I can't help but feel that I haven't yet discovered mine, besides parenting two wonderful human beings. I feel there is something waiting for me which will be revealed after I loosen that albatross from my neck, which is my job...
Yikes I feel a bit like I have a bit in my mouth. My sweet niece discovered this blog, and I fear that suddenly everything i say will be measured , judged and reported to her mother who is my dear but very straight and righteous sister, who will then chastise me for my less than upright views on life. WOW. Fifty seven years old and still worried of what others may think of me...Gotta get over that. "Love me the way I am or leave me be"
must go, time to do my yoga video. Gotta stay lean and mean in my old age...

a true rant.

Speaking of dogs, I need to vent. Today we took Montana, our crazy Dal, for her mostly daily walk. We walk her on a leash, which is looped around my waist, and she doesn't pull, and walks calmly between Bob and me. We go up to the green space, a walkway which has well spaced garbage container in which responsible people can deposit their doggie's do-do's (responsible people appear to be few and far between as there is often many turds of varying size along the path) Oh I get it! If your dog doesn't CRAP directly ON THE PATH, you don't have to pick it up??? Interesting concept, but stupid and selfish, as "off the beaten path crap" still STINKS and attracts flies. Anyhow, I digress. This isn't what my rant is about.
My real irritation in life is people who think their dog is TOO GOOD to be taken out on a leash. For some reason, they don't have to abide to common dog-people courtesy that says unless you are in a off-leash park (which Armstrong apparently LACKS!) your dog should be on a leash when out and about. So here we are walking along, and at the end of the green space is a bench, upon which sits a man, an aging hippie, who hasn't been told the sixties had long gone, with an off-leash Border Collie lying idly behind him in the shade of the bench. Of course, when we walk by and say a polite hello, the dog rushes out to sniff Montana to see whether SHE has his tail(see previous post) Montana, of course, was not willing to give up hers (as she is quite attached to it)and took offense, pulling her butt away from his inquiring nose. He then returned the offense and snarled, at which point Mr. Hippie intervened and calmly called his dog back to him, amusingly commenting," Scrappy pair, aren't they" Well, no, Asshole, YOUR dog is scrappy, our dog is merely trying to protect what is truly hers. And if your dog was on a friggin' leash, we wouldn't have this issue. Of course we being two of the politest Canadians on the planet, we calmly smiled, then walked away, grumbling under our breath...
You people who think it is okay to walk your dog off leash, this is for you: PPPFFFFTH! When you walk by us with your dog enjoying freedom, do you not think, that your dog is saying to my dog, "nyah nyah na nyah na!, you're on a leash, you pussy!" Do you not think it might be justified for my dog to take offense, and snarl a bit, and if your dog is of the rat-like variety, try to eat it??? And then it of course becomes MY dog's fault...
Enough of this rant. did I make myself quite clear on my feelings about this topic???

A Fable (in memory of Kitty Hamilton)

Once upon a time, long, long ago, in another time and place, dogs ruled the world. The were dog governments, there were rich dogs and poor dogs, and dogs of every color and description. Some were kind and loving, filled with compassion and caring for their fellow dogs, and some were not. Many wondered about the existence of a Dog of a Greater Power, and decided that an appropriate name for that power might be God, which of course, is dog backwards...
One days, in the darkened halls in the back streets of an the dodgier parts of a huge dog city, called Dogdom, there was a very large but secret poker game going on. Now, it must be explained that poker in itself was NOT against dog rules and laws, and was almost second nature to the dog persona, although it was hard to hold cards without an opposing thumb. What made this one secret and illegal is that the doggy government of the day had not condoned it and so was not in on the take. Government, then as it is now, had to condone and get their piece of the action, whether it was gambling, liquor or licensing of any sort...
And so, this particular game was being held in secret. Word got out, and hundreds of dogs from all over Dogdom appeared to get in on this game. The only rule was: "Hang your tail at the door" and indeed, hundreds of hooks were provided for this purpose. (Dogs could easily be distracted by the alluring odor of another dog's tail and it was found to be detrimental to the game, hence that particular rule)
Alas, word spread (it was ever after thought to be the lowly, scum sucking Jack Russell who ratted to the authorities)and just as the night got going, an entire pack of German Shepherds, who were the police dogs of the day, raided the place. Every dog in the house scattered, and took for the exit as fast as their four legs could carry them. The place was bedlam, a cacophony of barks of every pitch, tone, rate and volume. But, their tails being one of the most important and vital parts of their anatomy, they all grabbed one as they made it for the doggy door. In their rush to escape arrest, many of course, ended up with the wrong one.
Ever after, even after Dogdom perished and the world reverted to human dominance, dogs have been seeking their own tails. So if ever you have wondered why dogs greet each other by sniffing each others rear end, wonder no more. They are saying, in the only way they know, "Do YOU have my tail?"

Mama Mia !!!!!!

I loved it! It was so funfilled and FUNNY! It had a great story line and was well acted, I thought. Pierce Brosnan's singing was comedy on its own but you gotta hand it to the guy for having fun with it and daring to do it (and was probably well paid) I loved Meryl Streep's friends; they played their roles superbly and were remarkably fit and energetic for gals their age. The scenery was most enjoyable and the filming was beautifully done. I think I will drag Bob to it next week, I think he will like it too.
Other than discovering that I was wearing two different shoes after the movie had finished, and realizing that I had spent the whole day in them, including a walk around Armstrong, a visit to the dentist, dinner out and Earls, AND the movie, it was a pretty good day. The over-priced ice cream at the Marble Slab gave me heart burn so I won't be going back there any time soon. Good thing I only had 1/2 of a child sized dish($3.75)You can buy an entire bucket of Island Farms ice cream at Askews this week for $3.98, for crying out loud. And this stuff was no better! What is the world coming too???

A Cruise with Cruise

I must confess, I had the most enjoyable night! I can hear my children groan already: too much information, mother!!! No no, no worries about your dad being involved. It was all IN MY DREAMS. I was on a submarine with Tom Cruise, going all the way from Vancouver to Alaska. Funny thing is that yesterday I was expressing interest in going on an Alaskan cruise, but I certainly didn't mean TOM!(as I am not a fan, at all!) but in the dream, it was just him and me, and a few submarine lackeys, doing the work. It was extremely interesting, as one could climb out and stand on top as we whizzed over ALL those other subs in the water, nearly hitting many of then and at one time swamping and overturning a ferry boat loaded with people. We just kept going, thinking, oh they probably have rescuers on board, or life jackets at least. THEN, when we were inside the sub and alone, I got just a bit frisky(which in itself is enough to designate this story as a mere dream) and thought I'd put the move on TOM. He was responsive to a point, then he asked, did I want my hand CRUSHED, because that is what he'd have to do if I carried on in this way. That is right after I discovered he had a very small pizel, and he was a bit embarrassed. Of course, I was embarrassed because I didn't manage to make it grow. Hey, it was a DREAM okay? Anyhow, he looked better in the dream than in real life, he didn't have that goofy gummy smile. And to make it even better, later on, he turned into Harm from JAG, who is WAY more cute that Tom. Aside from the aborted attempt at adultery, it was a good trip, but I never did see Alaska. And at the end, I got my money back...Really, you had to be there, it was GREAT!

Notice given!

Well, I DID IT! I gave my notice. Handed in my resignation. Wow what a great feeling of enlightenment. Not like the Buddhist way of enlightenment. Rather the enlightenment one feels when one unties a immense albatross from around one's neck. Oh what a feeling. Even though I still have 8 weeks to work, which works out to 24 shifts, it still feels GOOD. Just have to send the papers in to the pension people that is it!
So of course this day was a lot better. Busier for starters, and had exceptionally nice patients that cooperated by not fainting or puking at inopportune times. And everyone was friendly today, perhaps as a reflection of my own euphoric mood.
Now I am just glad to be off for two days, even though tomorrow includes a visit to the dentist, to get my bridge installed.
My goodness, is it ever raining outside. Hoo-wheeee! We sure need that. We went for a walk tonight, luckily it didn't let loose while we were out. Montana the spotted wonder dog wouldn't have liked that. She hates the feel of water droplets on her meagre coat. Reminds her of a bath perhaps...
Looking forward to seeing Mama Mia tomorrow night. Bob, Bruce and Colleen will go to Batman, and ML and I will see MM. Should be fun... I LOVE ABBA!

Monday has gone

Well, that day has come and gone. And it was boring, and long, and seemingly endless. But tomorrow I'll go back and do it all over again, although it looks like it may be a tad busier.
After work we had a nourishing meal of low fat bratwurst wrapped in whole wheat tortilla's accompanied by steamed edemame. Mmmm you have no idea how luscious that was! It was so friggin hot in the house, I had no desire to cook. Anyhow it worked and we were full.
Joan phoned, she has moved AGAIN. We talked for at least an hour. I don't know how we do it but we rarely run out of stuff to discuss. She too is retiring, albeit a month later, so maybe we can do the odd little jaunt together ala Thelma and Louise without the driving over a cliff part. Joan was my best friend in nursing school and we have remained close over the years although we go a long time without actually seeing each other. She is in a totally different socio-economic bracket (read LOADED) which has always made me a bit uncomfortable , but it doesn't seem to bother her.
Today I started on this stuff called PGX. It is a soluble fiber product that absorbs water and reduces the speed at which sugars are absorbed by the bloodstream causing a stabilization of blood sugar, allegedly reducing hunger. We shall see. So far it has made me burp and feel like puking. But that's the first dose. I will try it again tomorrow and see...
Tomorrow it is supposed to cool off big time and perhaps even rain. I sure hope it does. It is too darn dry everywhere and I worry about fire. I hate the smell of forest fire in the air;it makes me feel panicky and like I can't breath properly.
later...

Sunday has come and gone. Got our long awaited Mexican chiminea from B&C's sale, it is very cute, the perfect size for our yard. After Brekkie out, we headed out to Fintry, mainly to find some more caches to make Bob happy. Well, he found four today so he WAS happy. Climbed up to the top of the falls(455 steps or something equally excessive, damn near killed me with heat exhaustion) but at least i got my exercise today. The dog didn't but I did.
Tomorrow it's back to work. Yuck, daycare. It'll either stink with boredom, or be crazy busy. It is always one of the other, rarely a happy medium. I am tempted to phone in sick but that won't do, I don't do well with dishonesty. Oh these two days too will pass and then I am off again.
Today I ran into someone I worked with 25 yrs ago. She has grown up and she has grandchildren! What a shock. She approached me, I would never have recognised her. That was weird.

Who'da thunk it? Me writing a blog. Well, why not me? I like to write and sometimes it is easier to keyboard than to put a pen to paper. And besides, its easier to read. And I don't always want to write TO someone, as they never write back with the same wordfilled sagas that I dish out. So just to write and not expect feedback is what this little blog will do; allow me to verbalize those angsts that plague me now and again, and get my thoughts on paper where I can rehash them and figure out how I feel about them.
Who am I? I am a fifty something woman, who is closer to sixty than fifty, and who doesn't mind that fact a bit. I am tired. Tired of being young and trying to be and/or have the body I've never had. I read a book recently, called "NO! I don't want to join your Bookclub" and I so identified with the narrator who just totally accepted getting older and its accompanying pitfalls.
I know that relatively speaking, I am still young, compared to the 84 yr old up the road, or the 92 yr old who had a pacemaker inserted the other day. But compared to the new, young and gorgeous crop of nurses that keep appearing at my workplace, I feel (and am) old!
It makes me think of when I was a new nurse, 35 years ago, and I worked with a couple of OLD nurses in the small hospital where I started my career. I wondered why they would still be working at their advanced ages, and they must have been in their early 50's then. And the odd one I have worked with over the years, who could no longer cut it and carry her fair load, and I remember thinking, I hope I recognize this trait in myself just before I get like that. Well, I think I have, and am therefore retiring in the fall, at the tender age of 57. Oh, I'll still work, a couple of days a week, when and where I chose. Just having the freedom to decide that will be a real plus.
But enough for now. I got a start on this blog thing and now must leave something to say another day.