Once again, Ambulance Driver has beaten my post, hands down - it's a repeat but so worth another look:
http://ambulancedriverfiles.com/2010/05/memorial-day/
I would like to get to meet this man in person someday, he is one kewl dude.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Memorial Day
Memorial Day – for most the unofficial beginning of summer, a day off from work or school, a cookout, first day at the beach, parades. For some pride, for others grim remembering, for still others sadness and closely held memories. A day set aside to honor those who fought, who are still fighting for freedom, sometimes our country’s own, sometimes others who needed our country’s help. I’m thinking maybe more people consider it the day for grilling and beer, and don’t think enough about the real reason for the day. Those who fought and fell, who still fight and fear for their lives should be thought of every day, not just one a year, yet I’m thinking maybe too many of us don’t think of them enough, don’t thank them enough whether it is silently or to their face now and then. I admit I don’t.
Whether you approve of/support the current fighting or not, whatever you think of the wars and the reasons behind them, the people who put our country into these conflicts, we all need to support the people who are out there, over there in the midst of them. They are doing their job, a job that is voluntary these days, and we can only hope and pray that they do it well enough to come home to their lives and families. So here’s what I think: you should say whatever kind of prayer you use that they do, and next time you see a uniform, say thank you. They deserve it.
I think I’ll go watch the parade, and wave and say thank you, whether they can hear me or not.
Whether you approve of/support the current fighting or not, whatever you think of the wars and the reasons behind them, the people who put our country into these conflicts, we all need to support the people who are out there, over there in the midst of them. They are doing their job, a job that is voluntary these days, and we can only hope and pray that they do it well enough to come home to their lives and families. So here’s what I think: you should say whatever kind of prayer you use that they do, and next time you see a uniform, say thank you. They deserve it.
I think I’ll go watch the parade, and wave and say thank you, whether they can hear me or not.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
ODDS & ENDS
- One of the firefighter blogs I read regularly had a posting last week of videos taken in a town in Canada. Seems these people spotted smoke, lots of smoke, from a fire across a lake from where they were. They decided to go see what it was. The video showed their drive around the lake, through some city streets and to the street where the fire was raging. All they way, the talk on the video is about how big the fire looks, and how it looks like there are not firefighters there yet. They pass a crew paving a section of road, and comment: ‘There’s a road crew, they don’t care about putting the fire out’. Once near where the house is burning, their car is one of several stopped in the street, watching the fire, blocking access to it. They do move, to go to a street on the other side of the house and there’s a guy taking photos of the fire with his cell phone. Their video is full of comments about ‘where is the #%&*ng fire department’. Not once do you hear them say they are calling it in. Don’t see the guy with the cell phone using it to call the fire in. And there they are, in the way of any emergency equipment. Sadly, the fire went on to destroy four homes. Even sadder, that there are people like this couple, who were more interested in what everyone else wasn’t doing to do anything themselves.
Don’t be like that – fire fighters would rather get a call for something not a fire than not get called and have a bigger fire to deal with. Meanwhile, these gene pool rejects go on, thinking they are just the best because they got on You Tube. Sigh.
- Speaking of fire, the other night at the theatre the lights were flickering. At first I thought it was my eyes, but then a couple of other people noticed it and so I thought I should go check things out. Walking around the building outside, I could hear the transformer out back buzzing from way further away than I should have been able to, and when I got to where I could see it there was a big ball of fire (in reality not fire but electrical sparking/arcing) on something at the top of the pole. I said an ‘Oh #%&&’ of my own, let me tell you! Called the fire guys, called the power company, and then stood out back talking to the firemen until the power crew got there and replaced the bad fuse that was the culprit. Stuff like that scares me, even more so since the fire during the ice storm caused by a power surge, even though this situation might not have caused something like that.
- Who invented oval shaped toilets? I bet there’s not a person in the world with an oval shaped ass, yet the new thing is oval shaped toilets that you just can’t sit on easily and not be draping your drawers across the front of them. Had to have been a man.
- And have you ever noticed on some hand dryers (most of which don’t work worth tiddley-pom, takes 5 minutes to get your hands dry, although there are some that will blow the prints off your fingers) there are instructions to ‘push button, hold hands under vent, rub rapidly’ and then there is a line ‘to dry hair, turn nozzle up’. I don’t know about the rest of you but I have never seen anyone washing their hair in a rest room. Yeah - I'm in Walmart rest room, think I'll wash my hair - ? The very thought makes me go ICK. Maybe that’s just me, though.
Don’t be like that – fire fighters would rather get a call for something not a fire than not get called and have a bigger fire to deal with. Meanwhile, these gene pool rejects go on, thinking they are just the best because they got on You Tube. Sigh.
- Speaking of fire, the other night at the theatre the lights were flickering. At first I thought it was my eyes, but then a couple of other people noticed it and so I thought I should go check things out. Walking around the building outside, I could hear the transformer out back buzzing from way further away than I should have been able to, and when I got to where I could see it there was a big ball of fire (in reality not fire but electrical sparking/arcing) on something at the top of the pole. I said an ‘Oh #%&&’ of my own, let me tell you! Called the fire guys, called the power company, and then stood out back talking to the firemen until the power crew got there and replaced the bad fuse that was the culprit. Stuff like that scares me, even more so since the fire during the ice storm caused by a power surge, even though this situation might not have caused something like that.
- Who invented oval shaped toilets? I bet there’s not a person in the world with an oval shaped ass, yet the new thing is oval shaped toilets that you just can’t sit on easily and not be draping your drawers across the front of them. Had to have been a man.
- And have you ever noticed on some hand dryers (most of which don’t work worth tiddley-pom, takes 5 minutes to get your hands dry, although there are some that will blow the prints off your fingers) there are instructions to ‘push button, hold hands under vent, rub rapidly’ and then there is a line ‘to dry hair, turn nozzle up’. I don’t know about the rest of you but I have never seen anyone washing their hair in a rest room. Yeah - I'm in Walmart rest room, think I'll wash my hair - ? The very thought makes me go ICK. Maybe that’s just me, though.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Unplanned quick trip to Oregon
I took a whirlwind trip to Oregon a couple of weeks ago. It was unplanned, and for a sad occasion. Unplanned: me, going across the country a few weeks before the theatre season starts is unheard of, although years ago I would go back in the truck for a few weeks between auditions and opening. The sad occasion was a memorial service for a cousin’s daughter. Had to fly and I’m not big on flying, not necessarily scared but I prefer driving where I can see things and stop when I want to. I haven’t flown in almost 10 years and it’s a whole new deal, with all the security and everything. Not to mention paying $25 to check a bag. Sheesh! On the way out I had to surrender bottles of water, V8 and iced tea I’d stuck in my bag to drink, not thinking about them being liquids that are not allowed. On the way back I had so much stuff crammed in my carry on bag that it had to be inspected; the woman asked about the boxes with baked goodies that I had wrapped against crushing and when I said they were cookies she said ‘I may have to E.A.T. test those’. She also had to take my big camera out of the case and look through the viewfinder – not sure why that was, but I had to show her how to do it. Thanks, all the terrorists and would-be terrorists, for making our lives just that much more complex and bothersome. Part of your purpose is achieved.
It sure is some beautiful country out there. Not that we don’t live in, as people on the road used to tell me when I told them where I was from, ‘a pretty part of the country’. And of course, because it is different, you look at it with newer eyes and see things you might miss in familiar territory. Driving from Eugene up to Sisters the Mackenzie Pass road is still closed with snow, that won’t open until maybe June or July, but the road past the waterfalls is open, as is Route 20, the same Route 20 that goes near here, with piles of snow still on the side from a storm a week or so ago. Some mountains soar above their lower neighbors, still white capped, and I took so many pictures of them that ‘you’d think I never saw snow on a mountain top before’.
Sisters is a bustling little town. The population is about the same as Chatham, but what a difference. They have several blocks of stores, with people in all of them. An eclectic mix, and geared more towards tourists than locals, but tucked among them and on the western edge of town are the more everyday places where residents can get their groceries, hardware and everyday needs. A golf tournament was going on and some of the crowds are part of it, some are no doubt day trippers, some folks stopping because they are on Route 20 going through the center of town and want a break or see something of interest. But a busy place, and I wished I could bring some of it back for the shops on our Main Street.
Mule deer came down to the field on one side of our motel in the morning, acclimated to people they just watched as I came close to take photos. The llamas in the field on the other side crowded the fence for a nibble of the feed the motel supplies for them.
The service was appropriate. Many people stood to talk about Emily, to say what a good friend she was and how they will miss her. I wonder how this equates with a person so unhappy with their life that they have to leave it as she did. We will never know her demons.
Spent time visiting with the cousins, we don’t see each other much, being on opposite sides of the country, and it’s nice to catch up a bit. We talk about getting together more often, and hug a lot, and then my sister and I go home – on different flights because we booked at different times, of course. My ‘red eye’ left SFA late so I missed the connection in DC and had to sit around several hours waiting on the next one.
Nice to be home.
It sure is some beautiful country out there. Not that we don’t live in, as people on the road used to tell me when I told them where I was from, ‘a pretty part of the country’. And of course, because it is different, you look at it with newer eyes and see things you might miss in familiar territory. Driving from Eugene up to Sisters the Mackenzie Pass road is still closed with snow, that won’t open until maybe June or July, but the road past the waterfalls is open, as is Route 20, the same Route 20 that goes near here, with piles of snow still on the side from a storm a week or so ago. Some mountains soar above their lower neighbors, still white capped, and I took so many pictures of them that ‘you’d think I never saw snow on a mountain top before’.
Sisters is a bustling little town. The population is about the same as Chatham, but what a difference. They have several blocks of stores, with people in all of them. An eclectic mix, and geared more towards tourists than locals, but tucked among them and on the western edge of town are the more everyday places where residents can get their groceries, hardware and everyday needs. A golf tournament was going on and some of the crowds are part of it, some are no doubt day trippers, some folks stopping because they are on Route 20 going through the center of town and want a break or see something of interest. But a busy place, and I wished I could bring some of it back for the shops on our Main Street.
Mule deer came down to the field on one side of our motel in the morning, acclimated to people they just watched as I came close to take photos. The llamas in the field on the other side crowded the fence for a nibble of the feed the motel supplies for them.
The service was appropriate. Many people stood to talk about Emily, to say what a good friend she was and how they will miss her. I wonder how this equates with a person so unhappy with their life that they have to leave it as she did. We will never know her demons.
Spent time visiting with the cousins, we don’t see each other much, being on opposite sides of the country, and it’s nice to catch up a bit. We talk about getting together more often, and hug a lot, and then my sister and I go home – on different flights because we booked at different times, of course. My ‘red eye’ left SFA late so I missed the connection in DC and had to sit around several hours waiting on the next one.
Nice to be home.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mother's Day 2010
A day to honor, celebrate, and remember mothers. I keep saying I was never meant to be a mother: ‘I have the right biological equipment but the wrong mental attitude’. I also say my kids (daughter Sara and step-daughter Stephanie) grew up to be great women, in spite of what I did. Both had some teen-age and beyond moments, but they have turned into women I am proud of and amazed by.
Motherhood: that 8 pound, 20 inch bit of a new person that nothing can prepare you for the first look at, the first time holding her – all of the firsts: first word, step, day of school, overnight away from, illness, accident, boyfriend, driving lesson, heartbreak, disappointment, life lesson, confession – all of the firsts, and the seconds and beyond. The trials, tribulations and triumphs. The joy and despair. The worry and wondering, sentiment and surprises, delights and tragedies. Nothing can prepare for it and nothing can compare with it.
“Mom, does it hurt when you have a baby?” “Yes, it hurts very much for a while.” “But then when you have the baby and hold it and everything you forget about that part, huh?” Pause to marvel at the insight a child can have, “Yes, yes, you do forget all about that part.”
At missing being the flag carrier in a rain-cancelled parade “This is the worst day of my life!”
From a leader during a very brief time in girl scouts: “When things aren’t going right, along comes Sara with her little smile and I feel better….”
“She pee’d on my jacket!!”
“We can’t sit with you (as young teens at a at a Disney movie) – you laugh too much. It’s embarrassing.”
At about age 12: “You better watch out, Mom, I’m bigger than you now.” “Yeah, well, you come on back when you get tougher.” Stephanie: “That’s Barbara, the Mighty Midget.” (that I used as a CB handle and still use for my email address)
“I’m gonna move in with Dickie.” “I’ve been expecting that.” “If it doesn’t work, can I move back home?” “You can always move back home – but I’m gonna say I told you so.” (She did and I did.)
And a whole bunch more.
Both girls, yes, Stephanie, who was afraid of blood, turned to nursing home work. Stephanie got her LPN, now she is part of the administration of a large senior facility. And is a mother to 5 girls herself.
Sara, who got her GED, learned bookkeeping on her own on some jobs, learned computer work on her own on some jobs, joined the rescue squad (that as a teen she professed to hate and never want any part of), and now is the administrator, running the whole thing. She’s got Stephen, who just keeps on giving me reason to say: ‘Grandchildren – a parent’s revenge.”
So, somehow, somewhere, sometime, I did something right. And I have to thank my girls for helping me be a mother to help them become what they did. I’m sorry for everything I did wrong and I’m glad we all got beyond it. And I’m proud that you became the great mothers you are. I love you. Happy Mother’s Day.
Motherhood: that 8 pound, 20 inch bit of a new person that nothing can prepare you for the first look at, the first time holding her – all of the firsts: first word, step, day of school, overnight away from, illness, accident, boyfriend, driving lesson, heartbreak, disappointment, life lesson, confession – all of the firsts, and the seconds and beyond. The trials, tribulations and triumphs. The joy and despair. The worry and wondering, sentiment and surprises, delights and tragedies. Nothing can prepare for it and nothing can compare with it.
“Mom, does it hurt when you have a baby?” “Yes, it hurts very much for a while.” “But then when you have the baby and hold it and everything you forget about that part, huh?” Pause to marvel at the insight a child can have, “Yes, yes, you do forget all about that part.”
At missing being the flag carrier in a rain-cancelled parade “This is the worst day of my life!”
From a leader during a very brief time in girl scouts: “When things aren’t going right, along comes Sara with her little smile and I feel better….”
“She pee’d on my jacket!!”
“We can’t sit with you (as young teens at a at a Disney movie) – you laugh too much. It’s embarrassing.”
At about age 12: “You better watch out, Mom, I’m bigger than you now.” “Yeah, well, you come on back when you get tougher.” Stephanie: “That’s Barbara, the Mighty Midget.” (that I used as a CB handle and still use for my email address)
“I’m gonna move in with Dickie.” “I’ve been expecting that.” “If it doesn’t work, can I move back home?” “You can always move back home – but I’m gonna say I told you so.” (She did and I did.)
And a whole bunch more.
Both girls, yes, Stephanie, who was afraid of blood, turned to nursing home work. Stephanie got her LPN, now she is part of the administration of a large senior facility. And is a mother to 5 girls herself.
Sara, who got her GED, learned bookkeeping on her own on some jobs, learned computer work on her own on some jobs, joined the rescue squad (that as a teen she professed to hate and never want any part of), and now is the administrator, running the whole thing. She’s got Stephen, who just keeps on giving me reason to say: ‘Grandchildren – a parent’s revenge.”
So, somehow, somewhere, sometime, I did something right. And I have to thank my girls for helping me be a mother to help them become what they did. I’m sorry for everything I did wrong and I’m glad we all got beyond it. And I’m proud that you became the great mothers you are. I love you. Happy Mother’s Day.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Cats and storms and stalking
Everybody who knows me knows about my cats. Streetcar, found on Desire Street after Hurricane Katrina, Prettypurr, from a cat rescuer in the area, and Snowdrift, from a Freecycle posting.
Streetcar was here first, then Prettypurr, and they have established their relationship and it works. When Snowdrift came along almost two years ago, she upset the regime. She does not like other animals. Therefore, they do not like her. After several months of trying to get them all to fit together, I gave up. Snowdrift lives in my bedroom, she has a large size dog crate that is her ‘safe house’ to go into at night when I open the door and the other two come in.
Prettypurr and Streetcar will go to the crate when she is in it and taunt her, and I can’t get them to stop. Usually they don’t do it for long, but still, they are cat stalkers. I tell them this and they don’t care. They consider it their place, since they were here and she is the one who disrupted their happy home. They don’t care that they did the same thing, Streetcar did it to Mocha and Beauty Queen, who did not think we needed a kitten when I brought him back from Camp Katrina. He didn’t think he needed a companion when Prettypurr came along. So of course they both didn’t think we needed Snowdrift, don’t care about her story (abandoned, separated, reunited and separated again from her kittens), they only know that they didn’t like her and she doesn’t like them.
Last night – actually about 4 a.m. this morning – it started to rain and thunder and lightning. Now, I’ve had dogs who were terrified of thunder, even quiet and far away as this was, but I never noticed it in the cats before. But Snowdrift was pacing in her safe house, meowing and very upset. I got up once and talked to her and petted her and she was better for a few minutes and then started again. I got up again and this time Prettypurr ran out from underneath the bed. Streetcar had been up on the bed with me all along. He’s the one who should have issues with rain and thunderstorms, but he seems to be mostly all right, although he does get a little nervous sometimes during a storm.
So now I’m wondering, was Prettypurr under the bed to hide from the storm, or was she there to harass Snowdrift? There is cardboard around the safe house so they can’t see each other from the bed, but she knows they are there, and they know they can tease her from there.
Was Snowdrift fussing because Prettypurr was under the bed, hiding or harassing, either one? Or was she fussing because she was frightened by the storm? She no doubt was out alone in some, I don’t know how long she was on her own but I guess several weeks, I’m thinking she was probably dumped when her owners discovered she was pregnant, and when found the kittens were a few weeks old. (She was found first, the kittens about a week later, how they managed without her that long we don’t know but luckily they did.)
I’ll have to wait for the next storm to see if any of them do it again, I guess, to try to figure it out. Yeah, like you can figure out why cats do what they do.
Meanwhile, Streetcar is having his morning snuggle in the front of my bathrobe, Prettypurr is probably upstairs (where I have to clear out the cradle so she has her napping spot back) and Snowdrift is shut in the bedroom, but out of her safe house. A normal cat day in my little corner of the world.
Streetcar was here first, then Prettypurr, and they have established their relationship and it works. When Snowdrift came along almost two years ago, she upset the regime. She does not like other animals. Therefore, they do not like her. After several months of trying to get them all to fit together, I gave up. Snowdrift lives in my bedroom, she has a large size dog crate that is her ‘safe house’ to go into at night when I open the door and the other two come in.
Prettypurr and Streetcar will go to the crate when she is in it and taunt her, and I can’t get them to stop. Usually they don’t do it for long, but still, they are cat stalkers. I tell them this and they don’t care. They consider it their place, since they were here and she is the one who disrupted their happy home. They don’t care that they did the same thing, Streetcar did it to Mocha and Beauty Queen, who did not think we needed a kitten when I brought him back from Camp Katrina. He didn’t think he needed a companion when Prettypurr came along. So of course they both didn’t think we needed Snowdrift, don’t care about her story (abandoned, separated, reunited and separated again from her kittens), they only know that they didn’t like her and she doesn’t like them.
Last night – actually about 4 a.m. this morning – it started to rain and thunder and lightning. Now, I’ve had dogs who were terrified of thunder, even quiet and far away as this was, but I never noticed it in the cats before. But Snowdrift was pacing in her safe house, meowing and very upset. I got up once and talked to her and petted her and she was better for a few minutes and then started again. I got up again and this time Prettypurr ran out from underneath the bed. Streetcar had been up on the bed with me all along. He’s the one who should have issues with rain and thunderstorms, but he seems to be mostly all right, although he does get a little nervous sometimes during a storm.
So now I’m wondering, was Prettypurr under the bed to hide from the storm, or was she there to harass Snowdrift? There is cardboard around the safe house so they can’t see each other from the bed, but she knows they are there, and they know they can tease her from there.
Was Snowdrift fussing because Prettypurr was under the bed, hiding or harassing, either one? Or was she fussing because she was frightened by the storm? She no doubt was out alone in some, I don’t know how long she was on her own but I guess several weeks, I’m thinking she was probably dumped when her owners discovered she was pregnant, and when found the kittens were a few weeks old. (She was found first, the kittens about a week later, how they managed without her that long we don’t know but luckily they did.)
I’ll have to wait for the next storm to see if any of them do it again, I guess, to try to figure it out. Yeah, like you can figure out why cats do what they do.
Meanwhile, Streetcar is having his morning snuggle in the front of my bathrobe, Prettypurr is probably upstairs (where I have to clear out the cradle so she has her napping spot back) and Snowdrift is shut in the bedroom, but out of her safe house. A normal cat day in my little corner of the world.
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