Living for the weekend

It will be Thursday - Friday Eve.  When I would mention that fact to Dr. H, he would tell me, "Ms. Broadaway, you are much too optimistic."  I sure do miss that man.

Odd week.  Chilly was banished to the unit I left - but she will be happier there.  I know this.  She was the UR person for the hospital (for 27 years) and one day, she walked into work and was told she no longer had a job at that site, that she was going to the satellite unit.  I wish they would banish me.  But I hate that she feels so thrown away (wouldn't anyone?).  So on the phone I hopped and called Dr. H, who promised faithfully to check in on her from time to time and make her feel welcome.  It was good to talk with him again.

The prison caught fire this week.  Apparently, it was burning when I walked out the door on Tuesday at 4:30.  The motor to one of the elevators was smoldering then, and from what I understand, shortly thereafter knocked out the power to the entire hospital.  There was in inmate in the elevator at the time and Sgt. Cain said it sounded like 10 in there, he was trying so hard to get out (there was smoke coming up through the shaft and he thought he was a goner).  But they put the fire out, rescued the inmate, and all is well, except we now have to take the stairs.

And I have a job interview on Friday - unless I chicken out on Friday Eve.  Not chicken out...I just don't really want the job.  And you KNOW that's when you usually get hired.

And in 3 days it will be Saturday and I can do all the things at home, get caught up on email and journals and housework and lounging about.  And grooming George.  Cooking...hmmm.

No sense in losing enthusiasm, now!

Streaming

It occurs to me that we, the ladies of Journal Land, have experienced much and have the venue perfect for relating our hard won wisdom for future generations to heed.  (as if they will!). 

I don't know about y'all, but my life has been a comedy of errors.  If it could go wrong, it did.  Here is my Wisdom List - I would like it very much if you would all post one of your own so I won't feel so all alone.   :-)

1.  The day before an important meeting or interview, double check your blow-dryer, lest you end up sitting in front of a box fan and praying over the styling brush.
2.  If you must get pregnant - a) Choose your husband/significant other carefully.  You never know when one of those might run off and join the circus.  b) time your pregnancy so your due date cannot coincide with the only blizzard to occur in your area in 150 years.
3.  Never, ever, ever wear a brand new pair of heels to work and expect to be able to walk to the parking lot at closing time.
4.  Double check before you leave home that you have your blouse on right side out.  It's rather embarrasing when you're approached in the lobby by a laughing coworker who whispers in your ear - "Best run to the restroom before you go upstairs" - on more than one occasion.
5.  Never assume that just because the house was empty when you walked into the shower that it will be empty when you walk back out.
6.  If you MUST be tripped by a rogue rock in a parking lot, try not to fall flat on your face.
7.  In the same vein, never carry 20 lbs. of tomatoes up concrete steps.  One false step and - Voila!  tomato juice.

Well, that's about it, if you don't count choose your friends and your cats carefully and take the high road every chance you get. 

I hope you'll all post your own Wisdom Lists.

Namaste.

oh, yummm!!!

It has been 3 weeks (I think) since starting the diet.  Progress has been good - although I had kind of hoped to be a size 8 by now.  That's a jok, by the way.  I have a long way to go before seeing size 8, if I ever do.

After being on the diet for a while, I've had to wonder why I strayed away from it in the first place.  It's satisfying, even without the chocolate cake.  And I feel so much better, already.  More energy, I'm squeezing back into the clothes I exploded out of.

And right now, I am indulging in a perfectly legal but VERY delicious spinach pie.  Gonna share the recipe here, I'm such a fan of it.  You can vary with veggies and meats.

Spinach Pie:

4 large eggs, whipped (or 3/4 cup egg substitute)
1/4 cup chopped onion
3/4 cup shredded cheese
1 package frozen spinach, thawed and squeezed dry.

Mix all the ingredients well, pour into a pie plate and bake at 350 for about 25 minutes, or until done.  I like to add about 1/2 cup of crumbled turkey sausage or bacon.  Very good!  And I have varied this recipe into something completely different by using chopped broccoli and shredded chicken in place of the spinach and sausage.

NEXT WEEK - Kielbasa and Cabbage! (turkey kielbasa, of course!)

 

 

Blue Diamond Peaches

It's surprising, what can spark memory, and the path the mind takes finding it.  Anything can do it - a sound, scent, the feel of summer or winter on your skin, a kiss, a word.

This past week, it was word.  My friend, Keith, was mourning the lack of apricots, his favorite fruit,  in produce sections.  "It was a rainy season," he said.  "Might not be much of a crop."

While I sympathized with him, I couldn't mourn it the same way he did.  Apricots are small and tough, and the flavor carries a twang that doesn't quite agree with my tongue's expectations.  If it looks like a peach, my tongue expects peach.

And that, of course, took my meandering mind back fifteen years, or so, to the summer my daughter needed glasses and I needed extra cash to pay for them.  Happily and coincidentally, my dad needed someone to tend the produce stand by the peach orchard.

And so, there I sat beside 211 and the railroad tracks, waiting for people to stop and buy a bushel of Ruby Reds, a peck of Winblo's, a canteloupe or a dozen ears of corn for Sunday dinner.

The stand was actually a raised concrete platform, and to reach it, and what used to be the packshed, you had to climb steep steps.  Beside the shed was an old fashioned pump you actually had to PUMP in order to get water. There were two rooms at the end of the platform, and during lulls in business, I braved the rattlesnake nests and explored them.  It was there I discovered the grading belts, equipment that was used years ago when the orchard was a beehive of activity there beside the railroad tracks.  Workers culled the fruit, packed it in crates and shipped it all over the United States, via the Aberdeen-Rockfish rail lines under the Blue Diamond label.  I was excited when I found leftover labels and old crates - I was sitting in front of 200 acres of history, and here was tangible evidence!  I could almost see what it was like, way back then, workers hand-picking peaches, loading them onto the backs of flatbed trucks and bringing them to the shed. 

It had to be an arduous task - those trees grew in the hottest sand in North Carolina.  Breezes don't seem to stir in the fields;  I could imagine busy, sweaty bodies.  Lunch breaks, downing a cold coke or ice water.  Mopping brows with bandanas.  Splashing water from the pump on flushed faces.

But the packshed was also the site of a tragedy that halted business permanently.  One humid summer day in 1969,  on the very platform from where I sold peaches, the son of the tenant farmers, Jack, laced his wife's liquor with a lethal dose of insecticide.  Dot never made it to the hospital; she died, leaving behind two small children.  With their father in prison and their mother dead, the task of raising them fell on their grandmother, Miss Lib. Blue Diamond peaches became a thing of the past.

Dad bought the orchard in 1980, breathed new life into it.  He hired migrant workers to prune the long-neglected trees. When they bloomed, the fields looked like a sea of pink cotton candy; he thinned and cultivated, and his first crop yielded fruit the size of baseballs, sweet, juicy, beautifully blush and yellow. 

I earned the money for my daughter's eye exam and glasses that summer, and never worked there again, but it was an adventure worth having.  I met people who once worked the fields and shed. I learned the difference between freestones and clings. tasted my first Georgia Belle - a white peach with a delicate flavor.  I froze tons of peaches that year - Dad would give me the fruits that wouldn't last another day, and I preserved or made cobblers with them.  To this day, I know that Winblo's come off during the second week of July, and if I want Ruby Reds, I'd best step up my pace to the nearest orchard before June is over.

Dad's orchard is history, now.  Upon retirement, he pulled up the peach trees rather than replace the hundreds of old ones that were dying, and replanted with less labor intense long leaf pines.  The packshed burned in the summer of 2000.  The landmark is now just a pile of blackened concrete; the labels and equipment are gone, as are the peaches. 

I miss it.

"To love a person is to learn the song that is in their heart, and to sing it to them when they have forgotten."

Unknown

that was MY fortune cookie!

My husband, Jim, was laid off from his job 2 weeks ago.  He was depressed.  He was upset. For some reason, I was not, and I told him - look at this as a vacation (he hadn't had one in a while).  And just think!  You won't have to make that 120 mile round trip every day! There's something better out there for you.

He still wasn't convinced this was a good thing.  BUT -

He put in an application at a place 20 minutes from home.  He waited and sweated bullets and fixed lights in the house (exclamation point!) and washed dishes and did laundry and made up the beds and walked George (whom he now calls Junior or boo boo), and he waited more and worried.  BUT -

Today he got The Phone Call.  "Jim, could you come on down?  We'd like to talk to you."  So in 15 minutes flat, he was there.  He starts work next Wednesday, with benefits he did not have before:  Insurance, 401K, paid holidays and paid vacation, sick days.

And so tonight, I took him out for Chinese to celebrate.  At the end of the meal, he opened up one of the fortune cookies on the tray and read it aloud.  "You have a sixth sense and keen insight."

I thought back to all that worrying he did and how I was so sure he would get the job and said - "I believe you got MY fortune cookie."

I don't think he believed me.

I'm really happy for him :-)

If it's warm and wet and does not belong to you

I have spent the last 2 days in training, so now, according to the state, I should be an expert in scheduling appointments, blood borne pathogens, fire extinguishers and recognizing self-injurious behavior.  And so I now feel compelled to share that knowledge with you.  :-D

All you need to know about blood borne pathogens can be summed up in one sentence -
If it's warm and wet and doesn't belong to you, use universal precautions - gloves, gown, mask, shield - if they're available when dealing with any kind of body fluids.. I'm of the mind that something would have to be available before I WOULD touch anything like that.  (Oh, I know that statement isn't really all you need to know about blood borne pathogens, but it's something that sticks in your mind to remind you protect yourself from HIV, HBV, HCV, etc.)

OK - on to fire extinguishers.  Buy one.  :-)  Actually, know the classes of fires and what type your extinguisher is for - Combustibles are type A is for combustibles like wood, type B is for flammable liquids, type C is for electrical, type D is for combustible metals.  And did you know ( I didn't, until today) that for electronic equipment fires, you should use a halon extinguisher.  The other types will destroy the computing parts of your machine and no computer guru in the world will make it work again.. 

When we got to the part about self-injurious behavior, my memory kicked in to overdrive and I recalled stories or experiences, like the guys who swallowed razor blades (one man swallowed a flip-flop), or batteries, or other objects that are not meant to be ingested.  And...sometimes the guys stick pencils in places you wouldn't think a pencil will fit.  Enough said about that.  Most of the time, these guys want a ride at the state's expense because any of the above will result in a trip to an outside emergency room, and some will approach a staff member and report self-injurious intent (we can't call it suicidal  anymore.  PC is ridiculous) because they want attention.  And then there are those who are serious.  And most of the time, those are the ones who succeed, because no matter how often you keep check, if someone is determined to commit suicide, they will do it.  Those who report suicidal thoughts are put in admin seg with 15 minute checks (more often, actually) and referred to psych staff. 

Ah, I don't know why I typed all this out...maybe because it's fresh in my mind and I'm rehearsing for next year's ORT class.  But today was fun.  A lot of my old buddies from the other prison were there, and they are a riot.

And now it's coffee time.  Y'all have a great rest of the week.

MARTHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

It is my belief that every Monday morning should be started with affirmations.  At least, now it is.  A good pep talk first thing - even if you have to do it yourself - usually sets the tone for the day, and when the day is filled with things you plan to change or give up?  Well.  Every little bit helps.

A while back I subscribed to an inspirational quote of the day.  The subscription site also sent out articles that go on for pages and pages and pages...and lo and behold, one of them addressed affirmations.  And wouldn't you know, I've been doing mine all wrong?  You aren't supposed to say - I will.  You're supposed to say I AM!  You are to actually visualize yourself accomplishing whatever goal you have set for yourself, thereby making it more attainable.  A reality waiting to happen.

I set out Saturday to make mine happen.  After catching sight of myself in the mirror, it was off to the Habitat store to find something to double as a clothes rack - an exercise bike.  None of the bikes looked that great, but there was this huge, ugly contraption that caught my eyes.  It has a nice wide seat (perfect!), what appeared to be foot pedals and a bar across the front.  In short, it's a Cardioglide, great for low impact exercise. 

I looked at it, turned to my husband and said - How do you work this thing?  He didn't know.  So we pulled it out, I sat down on it, tried to move the pedals and nothing happened.  All this time, people in that part of the store were snickering behind their shopping baskets but - nothing ventured, nothing to be embarrassed about.  I discovered that you must pull the bar toward you while you press down on the pedals.  It's GREAT!  You're supposed to do 30 minutes for a cardio work-out, and you know what?  I'm up to 3 minutes now!  In no time, I hope to be up to 5.

So tomorrow morning, my affirmations will be:

I am losing this weight.
I am cleaning this house.
I am being productive at work.
I am doing 5 minutes on the cardioglide and nobody has had to call 911.

And after that, I'm making a list.  Realities waiting to happen are great, and so is checking them off as you go.

By the way, I started back on the Southbeach Diet.  Any dieters out there who would like to exchange tips or just share their progress - write away.  I'll be sure to read.

Levels of (dis)Comfort

I think I have forgotten how to journal, because the words aren't flowing at all.  wait!  the keyboard is crooked - let's fix that.  Not wearing my glasses...ok, where did I put them?  Hmmm.  Only half a cup of coffee, and my sleep pants are uncomfortable, and the desk is too junky and this chair doesn't sit just right...

Odd how things have to be just right before we can get into a zone, isn't it, and what spurs us into action (why on earth is there a flashlight, my cell phone, a bottle of antacid, 2 packs of sweetner, a flip-flop and a sponge, a deck of cards, 40 books and an eyeliner pencil on top of my desk..?).

For some reason, I thought by time I reached this age, I would have lots of spare time.  The house would be sparkling clean, my desk would be neat and I would be clicking away on the keyboard, finishing that Great American Novel, and life would be rosy and comfortable, and all the pieces would finally fall into place. 

This has not been the case.  If anything, life is busier than when my kids were small, in school, in scouts, etc.  For the last few weeks, the house has been a wreck.  No, really. How DID that flip-flop end up on my desk with everything else?!

And to make things worse, I walked by a mirror the other day.  And I looked.  And was horrified!  Because of meals on the run, I have gained - no, BALLOONED! - into something that does not look like me (I screamed.  George came running.  I showed him what was in the mirror and he growled).

And so - I have decided to get things under control, back to some level of comfort.  Better time management.  Lose this awful weight...throw that flip-flop in the garbage, and take my life back.

Wish me luck!