well

This was my first entry, back in May of 2005.  Since I brought up Hey You, I figured it was worth repeating.

 

Oh, I just knew Scalzi came up with this topic with me in mind.  Actually, I know he didn't, but when I took my dog to the vet for the first time, eyebrows rose.

And what is your pets name, Ms. Broadaway?

Hey You.

Excuse me?

Hey You.  His name is Hey You.

Oh! I thought you were referring to me.  You named your dog Hey You?  If you don't mind my saying so, Ms. Broadaway, that's pretty apathetic.  She looked at me with disdain, then her eyes slid sympathetically over to You, who promptly looked pitiful.  He's a sucker for attention.

First, let me assure you that he was not named out of apathy.  See, I usually let my animals tell me their names via personalities.  When I brought You home, he was a cute little fluffy ball of fur.  My son wanted to call him (shudder) Bocephus, but he definitely was not a Bo.  Nor a Cephus.  And he wasn't a Fluffy or a Spot or Dexter...every day, I came home expecting him to look at me and say - My name is ________, but he never did, and every day when I came home, he was so pleased to see me, his little furry face just lit up, and I would lean down, scratch him behind his ears and say in soft tones....Hey, you...and it stuck.  That's who he thought he was, and it worked for me!

My son doesn't like for me to name the animals because he thinks the ones I choose are too human.  For instance, one cat was Lawrence.  It was something about his eyes...he reminded me of a photograph of my cousin, Lawrence - and so of course the cat was doomed to life as my cousin's namesake.

And once, I had a cat named Khadaffi.  I have no idea if that's spelled correctly or not, but yes, the cat was named for a terrorist because he WAS one.  The little bugger had a bad habit of attacking my guests ankles.  If he saw me heading for my usual spot at the end of the sofa, he raced me there (and usually won), and dared me to sit down.  I suspect that if I had demanded he move, he would have had a nasty little surprise waiting for me later, somewhere - perhaps on my side of the bed, or in my shoes.  He was just that way, and I'm not exaggerating.  Once, he even sprayed me.  Before that, he probably had no idea that terrorist cats could fly.

I have animals with normal names.  There's Spike, who is so named because of his gangster-like tendencies.  There's Teddy, who is a queenly long-haired tabby with gold - not green - eyes.  And last, but not least, there is  Dixie Darlin, a lab who is named for Winn Dixie's storebrand bread.  She loves the stuff.

Oh, and I once had a poodle named One Hundred.

Go figure.

**ANNOUNCEMENT**

For those of you who haven't read me much - I have a 3-legged dog that I named Hey You.  The old boy has been through a lot, but somehow has overcome his infirmity long enough to father six little babies.  I have grandpuppies.

There is one, a little male, who looks just like Hey You did when he was a puppy.  He's around 5 weeks old now and when I went to check on him today, he wagged his tail and sprang (no other word to describe it) just like his Papa did when he was a pup.  Yep, he's a keeper...and I have named him...

need i say it?

You Two (too). 

:-)

the price of gas in china

i have no idea what they charge for gasoline in china, but i know how much it costs here - it's back up to $3 a gallon, and is expected rise to $4 or over by july.

i'm fortunate enough to live 3 miles from my place of employment, but others aren't that lucky, and with wages what they are in certain places - is it worth going for the higher paying job when 1/3 of the take home pay will be eaten up in gasoline expenses?  i just don't know. 

perhaps mr. bush was right - we're too dependent on oil.  actually, we're at the mercy of those who sell it.  for some of us - if we tighten our belts much further, we'll cut off the blood supply to vital organs and won't have to worry about the price of the oil supply.

i'm gonna walk uptown for a gallon of milk, now.  i should be back in approximately 3 hours.

 

"Life's not about expecting, hoping and wishing, it's about doing, being and becoming. It's about the choices you've just made, and the ones you're about to make, it's about the things you choose to say - today. It's about what you're going to do after you finish reading this."

Mike Dooley

beep beep beep

there are serious issues going on in my family right now - my mother is in the hospital and there's really nothing that can be done for her except to keep her comfortable.  she was admitted with chest pains, which seem to have resolved if she doesn't get up and sprint down the hallways...and i know she'll come home this time.  i just wonder for how long.  i spent the day with her today in her room.  she slept a lot, which is good, i think.  she's resting.

my brother is getting married to the girlfriend he met on the internet.  good news!  she is from canada, and frankly, i like her.  she has been a godsend.

i have decided to put my property on the market, take the acre of land dad offered and pay cash for a DOUBLEWIDE! and have no housepayment and huge land tax bill to deal with.  it's time to downsize.  and yet...

with all these issues going on, there is something totally unrelated that will NOT stay in the background, mainly because it is so annoying it makes me feel like chewing nails and spitting bullets.  it's a commercial - produced by an automobile company that, thanks to this ad, i will NEVER buy from again.

i do NOT want to go beep beep, i do NOT want it brought to my attention (i've learned to tune it out, much like i tuned out my brother's drums when i was a teenager) when it blares across the television set and...

so i'm grumpy.  BUT - this commercial has the same affect on me when i'm in a good mood.  i may write to the manufacturer and let them know about it. hmm.

have a good week.

Sunrise Service

Sunrise Service

 

There was no wine; my coffee cup served as

sacrament  to ward off the early Spring chill,

apple blossoms were dots of light

and dogwoods stretched reverently,

still life stained at four points.

 

There was no altar, except the wood table

damp with dew, no congregation, save one member

who occupied its pews,

but listen -  oh listen!

 

for cicadas murmuring a Creed.

the Light rose like a prayer;

and a choir of sparrows sang canticles for The Son.

bad pennies always show up again

my little break is over and i have to tell you - it was GREAT! 

am finally done with double duty between the minimum custody hospital and the medium custody prison.  now i can get down to business, but on my last day there, i was presented with two bags of river rocks.  now these aren't just any river rocks - there is a story behind them that i feel compelled to force on you and anyone else who reads this.  grab some coffee. ;-)

about a year ago, there was a young man at the prison who was on the mental health caseload.  he had a history of suicidal ideation, and he was on psych meds.  lo and behold, he felt better and asked to be taken off the meds.  after evaluation, the psychiatrist agreed. 

the problem with any kind of psych med is, it makes the patient feel so much better that they think they don't need it anymore, not realizing the med is WHY they feel so much better.  the young man began to decompensate.  the psychiatrist only visits the unit once or twice a month - and there was no one to available toorder the meds .  he was shipped to another unit where they put him in segregation with a suicide blanket and the next day, shipped him back to us.  he was our problem - and we were going to fix it.  can't blame them.

well - still no psychiatrist, and dr. h didn't seem to think the case warranted the phone call.  but ava, who is a former psych nurse, interviewed the inmate personally, set him up with the PA (who doesn't like to write scripts for psychotropic drugs) and PA did prescribe them.

he was pitiful!  ava told me.  someone had given him a sea shell to rub to alleviate his anxiety and he had rubbed the damned thing so much the ridges were smooth.

she showed me an email she had dashed off to the Powers That Be in the state capitol.  it read something like..

"i certainly hope mental health has a lot of rocks to give this young man, because he has rubbed this one to death!"

the next day...one of the nurses brought a gift for the mental health department - seeing as how they had no supply of stones to hand out.  two bags of river rocks...which that department declined to accept.  ava kept them in her desk until last week when she handed them to me.

i wouldn't part with them and the story behind them for the world.

letter from rosie

People of J-Land:

I may have reason to be concerned about the human called Mara.  Just last weekend, she left on Saturday morning and did not return to fill my water bowl until Sunday evening.  She looked strange when she walked in - her lips were contorted and turned upward at the corners.  I have heard this is called a smile. 

After she filled the water bowl - cheerfully, I might add - she picked up the phone and called the human named Charles and I heard her tell him about a drug bust at her daughter's apartment building.  She seemed excited.  And then, I heard her say something about gang members, a patch for an air mattress and Walmart.  And then she was rambling about a wisteria gazebo and ducks at the Duke University Gardens - this is not usual for her.  I believe she is delirious.

What really concerns me is - she talked about moving to a place called Durham. 

She is not a young woman.  There is no need for her to go gallivanting around the state on weekends, leaving me to fend for myself.  She could break a hip or something. And certainly, she does not need to move, no matter how good the job benefits might be - what will happen to me?  I can open doors, I can shred a food bag should the need arise - but I cannot turn on the faucet.  I am in danger of severe dehydration.  And possible homelessness.  If she continues on her current path, I could become...a bag kitty.

I knew I should have kept that Lexapro stuff under the couch.  I may have to learn to dial 911 after all. 

By the way, what does the word "happy" mean?  She says it often these days.

I will keep you posted.

 

well y'all...

since i don't quite know how to embed pictures, this will have to do.  i'm gonna be gone for a while, and wanted to leave you all with a little blessing.

;-)

see you around the internet.

a terrible waste

the last time i saw him - about two weeks ago, i think - he was jaundiced to the point of glowing in the dark.  that wasn't surprising.  he had been hooked on prescription pain killers for the past 10 years.  and i'll be honest - i hated being around him.  he was never sober. he wouldn't, or couldn't help himself.  and i kept thinking back to the time when he was so upset that i was poking around the flower garden - because he had planted pot in the beds behind the tallest flowers.  and of course, when doctors offices found out my last name - they asked if we were related.  he had hit every doctor in 3 counties up for pain meds, and once stole a prescription pad from one physician.  he was sentenced to probation for that. 

i didn't like being around  him much, no.  i did feel some kind of sympathy though, because at one time he was brilliant.  he could have been anything he wanted.  all that, wasted.

today, my brother, steve, stopped by his house.  my cousin's front door was wide open, and when he didn't get an answer, Steve walked in and found him on the living room floor.  he had been bleeding from a head wound, and had been dead for at least 24 hours.  it appears he tried to get up and fell, hit his head and laid there and died...and nobody would have known for days and days if steve hadn't decided to just pop in.

we all have our addictions, i think...some are more ruinous over the short term, like my cousin's.  those are the ones that destroy lives and estrange friends and family. in a way, i think his death was a mercy, because the liver disease would have been a slow and much more painful way to leave the earth...

i couldn't help him.  nobody could, because he didn't want to be helped...but i wish i had been kinder.

if you have ever wondered..

what men really say about women when they aren't around, you should park your car outside the nearest auto parts store and roll the window down.  that's what i did last night - though it wasn't on purpose.  i was waiting for The Hubby to do his shopping.  there were three young men, probably in their early twenties huddled around a car, and they were having a very deep conversation.  about women.

"my ex-wife," one of them was saying, "had to have her hair and nails done every friday.  and every friday she had to have a brand new outfit to go out to the club on saturday.  every friday!"

"ah, man, she was high maintenance!  my woman was lucky to get a movie and popcorn on friday nights.  see - you have to condition them to special occasions.  no new outfits, no nail salon - no jewelry!  they appreciate it more that way, and you won't be broke all the time.  why did you and your old lady break up?"

"she was cheatin on me, man."

"uh huh, with the nails and outfit you paid for."

and it went on and on.  see, i had been told that men just grunt every now and then when discussing the intricacies of the female psyche, but i see now that they are ganging up and trading tips.  maybe they did learn something from us, after all.

by the way, the young man who paid for the nails proceeded to brag on his mother.  now that's a nice young fella.