"The longer you wait to decide what you want to do, the more time you're wasting. It's up to you to want something so badly that your passion shows through in your actions. Your actions, not your words, will do the shouting for you."
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Today's Quote
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Feathering the Nest, and other ramblings
A few weeks ago, I headed to Pet Smart to look at the pups in the
adoption clinics - and danged if they didn't make me take one home with
me, so Spike and You have a brother now.
His name is George - he is an eight-month-old blonde Golden Retriever/Chow mix who brings me his water bowl when it's empty. And then he throws it at me. He demands a lot of attention, has dragged all my shoes all over the house (rounding them up was no joke), and he's big and bumbly and furry and I just love him to pieces, even in the middle of the night when he bounds onto the bed and lands smack dab in the middle of my back. Should you come to my house, before entering, you might hear someone screaming - GEORGE! PUT THAT DOWN!
That would be me.
____
When we arrived at work on Friday morning, they were locking down the inmates. We didn't think much about it. Sometimes there are drug interdicitions, etc., but THEN...the officer from the control center came into the office and was shocked that we weren't wearing gloves and masks. She ducked back into Control and came back with boxes of the things.
Things were getting interesting about that time. Over the loudspeaker:
"All department heads report to the conference room."
"All kitchen workers, return to your quarters."
"All physicians call extension 328."
"All staff and inmates - you may remove the masks, but you must continue to wear gloves."
Roberta looked at me with something like fear in her eyes and said..."I want to go home..."
Well so did I. And after the department heads came out of the meeting, all nonessential personnel were told to GO HOME. They didn't have to tell us twice.
We have an outbreak of Norovirus in the hospital. Thank God it was that - I was imagining much worse scenarios (not that Norovirus isn't bad enough), because I knew one of the inmates had been sent out with viral meningitis and thought...My God, what if it's that??
In an outside hospital or nursing home, the administration will ask the public not to visit if they have nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and the staff would remain. In a correctional setting where the guys bunk together, eat together and ...well, I don't want to think any further than that...the virus spreads like wildfire. And because we constantly have more transfers in and out - it could easily become a viscious cycle that keeps going and going and going...
And so, while essential staff are busy sanitizing the place and restricting inmate movement inside, all us nonessentials got an almost free day off. And on a Friday, at that.
By the way, if you should be in a place where there is a Norovirus outbreak - don't count on hand sanitizer to keep you safe. It doesn't seem to work. Wash your hands with lots of soap and water to minimize your chances of getting the virus.
His name is George - he is an eight-month-old blonde Golden Retriever/Chow mix who brings me his water bowl when it's empty. And then he throws it at me. He demands a lot of attention, has dragged all my shoes all over the house (rounding them up was no joke), and he's big and bumbly and furry and I just love him to pieces, even in the middle of the night when he bounds onto the bed and lands smack dab in the middle of my back. Should you come to my house, before entering, you might hear someone screaming - GEORGE! PUT THAT DOWN!
That would be me.
____
When we arrived at work on Friday morning, they were locking down the inmates. We didn't think much about it. Sometimes there are drug interdicitions, etc., but THEN...the officer from the control center came into the office and was shocked that we weren't wearing gloves and masks. She ducked back into Control and came back with boxes of the things.
Things were getting interesting about that time. Over the loudspeaker:
"All department heads report to the conference room."
"All kitchen workers, return to your quarters."
"All physicians call extension 328."
"All staff and inmates - you may remove the masks, but you must continue to wear gloves."
Roberta looked at me with something like fear in her eyes and said..."I want to go home..."
Well so did I. And after the department heads came out of the meeting, all nonessential personnel were told to GO HOME. They didn't have to tell us twice.
We have an outbreak of Norovirus in the hospital. Thank God it was that - I was imagining much worse scenarios (not that Norovirus isn't bad enough), because I knew one of the inmates had been sent out with viral meningitis and thought...My God, what if it's that??
In an outside hospital or nursing home, the administration will ask the public not to visit if they have nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and the staff would remain. In a correctional setting where the guys bunk together, eat together and ...well, I don't want to think any further than that...the virus spreads like wildfire. And because we constantly have more transfers in and out - it could easily become a viscious cycle that keeps going and going and going...
And so, while essential staff are busy sanitizing the place and restricting inmate movement inside, all us nonessentials got an almost free day off. And on a Friday, at that.
By the way, if you should be in a place where there is a Norovirus outbreak - don't count on hand sanitizer to keep you safe. It doesn't seem to work. Wash your hands with lots of soap and water to minimize your chances of getting the virus.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Three Cups of Coffee Later...
And so Valentine's Day is fast approaching, and I have already received
a gift. From my boss. She bought Roberta and me yogurt
coated raisins (she's very health conscious, you know). They were
very good! And since she was so sweet, I have decided to get her
something for that special day - The Perfect Man.
She has been single for 10 years and has no desire for a serious relationship, but I found HIM (she would like that, too. Health Information Management acronym!)- in Walmart of all places. He comes in a box. He's buff. He's chocolate. And I do believe he's perfect, but not necessarily good for a lasting relationship...after all, one good binge and he would be gone forever. But ah, the memories...she might find those worth it. ;-)
_____________
The last few weeks have been full, so I tried to get a little caught up on journals and email today. If I haven't been by, it isn't because I've suddenly stopped reading for no good reason. My mother's doctor told her last week that she needs dialysis. Well...she has decided against it. She has fought to live for a long, long time and she is tired...all we can do is accept and respect her decision, and be with her while we can.
There is a lot I could write about her. How brave she is. What a strong woman she has been. How she has become sweeter with time...but I just can't eulogize her. Not now.
She has been single for 10 years and has no desire for a serious relationship, but I found HIM (she would like that, too. Health Information Management acronym!)- in Walmart of all places. He comes in a box. He's buff. He's chocolate. And I do believe he's perfect, but not necessarily good for a lasting relationship...after all, one good binge and he would be gone forever. But ah, the memories...she might find those worth it. ;-)
_____________
The last few weeks have been full, so I tried to get a little caught up on journals and email today. If I haven't been by, it isn't because I've suddenly stopped reading for no good reason. My mother's doctor told her last week that she needs dialysis. Well...she has decided against it. She has fought to live for a long, long time and she is tired...all we can do is accept and respect her decision, and be with her while we can.
There is a lot I could write about her. How brave she is. What a strong woman she has been. How she has become sweeter with time...but I just can't eulogize her. Not now.
Monday, February 5, 2007
Gracing the Shadows
She is a young girl again
serene in the hour before dark,
a mere hint of the woman
who mothered me evident
in growing shadows.
Between the pauses in which
she reaches for words
that don't surface easily now,
she tells me of tobacco fields,
of running barefoot on creek banks,
of nickel soda pops and iceboxes.
She tells how she walked dirt roads
to services in the country church
that still stands pristine among the pines,
how just last week, she laid flowers
in its cemetery, against gray stones
that bear the names of her mother and father.
She says she dreams of them most nights, now.
In her slumber, absent faces she has longed to see
for forty years come to her
from fallen silence.
She speaks of going Home,
of the brother and sisters, already gone,
and she knows, as I do,
soon, the family will be whole.
Her eyes are clear of regrets or sorrow
in leaving us for the family of her youth,
but in the center of my chest, a pang grows
like the violet hues now spreading
to end this pause before night.
Our day is falling below the horizon.
Remnants of sun rest on her face,
and in near-dusk, she shines like a child,
gracing the shadows
with light.
serene in the hour before dark,
a mere hint of the woman
who mothered me evident
in growing shadows.
Between the pauses in which
she reaches for words
that don't surface easily now,
she tells me of tobacco fields,
of running barefoot on creek banks,
of nickel soda pops and iceboxes.
She tells how she walked dirt roads
to services in the country church
that still stands pristine among the pines,
how just last week, she laid flowers
in its cemetery, against gray stones
that bear the names of her mother and father.
She says she dreams of them most nights, now.
In her slumber, absent faces she has longed to see
for forty years come to her
from fallen silence.
She speaks of going Home,
of the brother and sisters, already gone,
and she knows, as I do,
soon, the family will be whole.
Her eyes are clear of regrets or sorrow
in leaving us for the family of her youth,
but in the center of my chest, a pang grows
like the violet hues now spreading
to end this pause before night.
Our day is falling below the horizon.
Remnants of sun rest on her face,
and in near-dusk, she shines like a child,
gracing the shadows
with light.
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