tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77779148491991737412024-02-20T13:26:05.551-08:00Suz Life & TimesSuzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.comBlogger118125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-50666907740081229192020-06-30T13:19:00.000-07:002020-06-30T13:19:55.775-07:00Major Surgery- Hip Surgery It's been a long time since I sat down and wrote something on this blog. I decided to sit today and write something I thought would be informative. Also something I wish I had available when I needed to read about this information.<br />
<br />
For the past several years I've been in pain. I have arthritis and have had it for years. I was first diagnosed when I was 9 years old. I had learned to live with pain and how to manage the daily pain.<br />
<br />
I had gone to several Doctors and I was given all sorts of pain pills. They only put a band aid on the pain, but as soon as the medicine was used up in my body the pain would rear it's head again. <br />
<br />
This went on for years. I would get some kind of analgesic to take the edge off the pain and I would be able to continue. It was a vicious circle. After one particular day I looked in the mirror and said, "Is this what the rest of my life will be? The constant pain and never being able to have a full productive life?' My Grandfather had Rheumatoid arthritis at a time when there was nothing that could be done to alleviate the pain...He finally couldn't take it any longer and took his own life... That's how bad the pain of arthritis can be. It takes all rational thought from your brain and leaves you with thoughts on how to eliminate the pain in any way you can think of...I get it..<br />
<br />
Finally I decided to take this pain in hand and see what was going on inside of my body, I had x-rays and Ultra sounds but they didn't really show anything definitive...<br />
<br />
The orthopedic Doctor I've gone to for other ailments said, "Let's try some cortisone..." I was willing to do that with no questions. I've had cortisone in the past and been very successful with it. It's another band aid but it gets rid of the pain, for a time. The shot was prepared and the Doc took the needle and put it into the spot that was killing me. The pain was gone, for an hour, I left the office very discouraged,<br />
<br />
Two weeks later I decided to go back. I walked into the office (limped into the office) and bared my soul to the Doc , I couldn't stand the pain any longer and was willing to have my leg amputated if that's what was needed to do.<br />
<br />
Another x-ray was taken and the results of the picture showed my hip was in terrible condition. There was no longer any buffer between the femur and the hip joint. I wasn't just bone on bone, but bone on nerves.<br />
<br />
It was more than obvious my hip needed to be replaced...<br />
<br />
My thought was about the "appliance" which would be put in where my own bone had been. Would it be as good as the one I was born with? Would I walk with a limp? Once the surgery was done there was no going back. Once my bones were in the garbage, there was no way they could go back in place. I had to think about this a bit. <br />
<br />
I had some time to think about all this because we were in the middle of the Covid 19 Pandemic. No elective surgeries were being performed. The hospitals were filled with people trying to survive this plague.<br />
<br />
I thought no big deal, something other than myself was making the choices for me. I knew this had to be done since the pain was restricting my daily life. I was not having the quality of life I thought I should have. I was also miserable. My whole demeanor was different. The pain was making me crazy. <br />
<br />
I lasted about three weeks in pain that was escalating by the hour. I was nasty and very volatile at this time. I knew it was all about the pain but I honestly couldn't take any more pain meds. I hadn't taken opioids at this time because I knew it would be disastrous for me. I am not a good opioid med patient. They cause me terrible side affects. They're just not worth it, however I was getting to the point of possibly taking them to get rid of this ongoing pain.<br />
<br />
Finally after several weeks the hospitals were doing elective surgeries. I called the Doc and said, " sign me up, I'm ready willing and able",<br />
<br />
You know these days all these Docs have protocols for every procedure I was not the exception. I had to see my PCP, my Cardiologist, my Pulmonologist and have blood work and a Covid 19 test before I could have this surgery.<br />
<br />
I spoke to everyone I knew who has this operation. I watched the YouTube procedures ( don't do that...it's like watching a mechanic cutting parts of a car off to replace with new parts that are hammered and sawed into place...no exaggeration. It's pretty barbaric and bloody). However, at this point I didn't care, the pain had to be gone.<br />
<br />
The day came for the procedure. I was driven to the hospital by my husband and my daughter, because of the Covid 19 virus they had to kick me out of the car and into the hospital. No visitors or folks with you. It was very different from anything I had experienced in the past. <br />
<br />
I was wheeled up to Pre Surgery and left in a waiting room, alone. After a time I was taken into the Surgery area to get set up for the surgery, Now was the time for me to say goodbye to my 73 year old bones and tell them they had done a pretty good job, but they needed to go away now so I could get relief with a new, younger titanium appliance that would take their place,'<br />
<br />
Before I knew it I was on my back in a bed with lots of nurses and anesthesiologists around me. They were telling me what was about to happen and I wouldn't feel a thing. The surgeon came in, he said, "ready?". I said, "I'm as ready and I'll ever be. Let's get this show on the road". That's the last thing I remember before waking up in the orthopedic rooms away from the folks who are there for sickness.<br />
<br />
I was treated with great care by a nurse Rachel and a CNA Josh. After a couple hours I asked if I could please get up and walk. This was really just hours from the time when I was gutted and repaired. One hour later I was up walking the halls, not long but enough for me to realize that this appliance, I now call "Helga" was indeed going to be my new best friend for probably the rest of my life. <br />
<br />
I was given a booklet to read about the procedure and what to expect during my recovery. The<br />CNA, Josh said, " That book is old. You have no restrictions. <br />
<br />
That was part 1....more later<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-55866031849436757702018-02-13T18:07:00.003-08:002018-02-13T18:07:58.672-08:00Death of a Mother’s child, death in part of the Mother <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Death of a Mother’s
child, death in part of the Mother</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Parents shouldn’t have to bury their children”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s been said over and over again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we do and there’s not a thing we can do
about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The child dies of illness,
accident, overdose, suicide, whatever the case may be and we as a parent feel
the tearing and shredding of our soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We yell and scream until our vocal cords are raw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We look at folks who are going about their
daily routines and we want to grab them by the throat and tell them, “look at
me in my pain, and stop laughing and enjoying your life. Don’t you realize my
life is changed forever and I’ll never have what you have or what I had before?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We want everyone to feel the gut wrenching turmoil
we face on a daily basis with no end in sight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We lose all sense of rationality for a time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We want everyone to understand that we are
hurting beyond belief. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then the rationality comes back ever so slowly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might see a new baby and think about how
your baby was at that age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see
children playing and laughing and you remember all the times your child laughed
at play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You hear about the successes
of someone else’s child and you say all the right things, but realize you are
playing at life and using a façade to keep from running away and crying your
eyes out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tears don’t come as
readily as they did in the beginning but they are there just waiting to flow
like Niagara from your eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The loss of the child is a loss of part of yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a physical loss of part of you, or at
least a part of you that once was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
child relied on you to nurture and bring that child to life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That child was yours and yours alone for the
first 9 months of his/her being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You went
through pain to bring that child into the world as a living being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The child that was part of you is now
independent of you and a being on his/her own. But… is that really true? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The child you bore is now a person who needs to be honed
into the shape of a productive human being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A human being which you hope will enhance the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You do the best you can to teach your child
about what is expected of him/her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
guide the child by your own behaviors and beliefs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You hope the child is an extension of you and
learns what your culture feels is right from wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In essence, you are attempting to make the
child an extension of yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will
be gone at some point in time but you hope all your teachings will continue in
the acts of the child you bore.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then comes the death of that child. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Part of you is now dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Perhaps not to others but certainly in your own mind you feel the great
loss of the flesh and blood of your child who is no longer here to touch, kiss
and hug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The child you took so much care
of prior to his/her first breath will no longer breathe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The child you tried to protect and insulate
from the brutalities that life could throw at him/her is no longer in need of
your protection. A part of you is gone along with the physical being of your
child, your baby, the one you protected for so long. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You feel that you’ve lost an appendage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s as painful as though you really did lose
part of your body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s like an amputee
who has phantom pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The appendage is
gone but you still feel it is right where it always was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You just need to look harder, or longer, or more
intensely and it will be back where it belongs. Then you realize, that it never
will be back. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s gone forever and you
have to accept the fact that part of you is gone and you will never be the
same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You need to move on”. “You’ll get over it”. “Life goes on”,
“Time heals all wounds”. You realize that people are stupid, they have no idea
until they go through it what death does to people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Losing a child is not like losing any other person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The death is personal, not abstract.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s part of you, you’re mourning along with
the child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is your body that has also
experienced the death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You feel
intensely a sense of loss of part of self.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The child, the extension of you, has taken from you that
part of your feeling of immortality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
don’t have the child to continue your thoughts and beliefs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That child will not be able to impart wisdoms
you gave them to their progeny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve
ceased to exist, at least that’s how it feels at times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rational thought? I don’t think so, but
definitely a layer of regret that you didn’t realize would be part of the death
of your child. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So you go on, and do all the things you have to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You continue the façade of a life you never
knew before but it’s part of you now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You smile, you laugh, and you carry on, carrying on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe you don’t laugh as loud or smile as
bright, but you do the best you can just like you did when you were raising the
child who is no longer part of the breathing world, but part of the memories
you hold close to your heart.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-44518878256363282432017-05-04T15:31:00.000-07:002017-05-04T15:31:12.455-07:00second chapterI said before this may be too much information but it is what it is.<br />
<br />
Now we are on the second course of the toxic meds that are supposed to keep the Myeloma at bay.<br />
<br />
It's tough to see the rough times and the person who was once able to get up and go, just trying to keep out of pain by moving slowly and deliberately to avoid any movement that will cause some kind of pain. At times there is no pain, but the brain is so accustomed to feeling the pain it's like a phantom pain is there. <br />
<br />
<br />
That was the first week of the second course of this toxic medicine. We are now at the end of the second course. The hot flashes ( really the opening of flood gates from all the pores in his body at the same time- soaking all the clothing he has on and using small towels to stop the flow of water rivulets that pour from the top of his head...that's no exaggerating....Enough pours off that he needs to get hydrated by IV) seem to have slowed but there are still lingering side effects that may cause a change in the medication. We are now facing going to the oncologists a couple times a week to get sort of an infusion of a different drug (I'm sure with all types of other side effects we can look forward to).<br />
<br />
I know chemotherapy is the pits, and for a lot of folks it's a lifesaver. The problem as I see it is this; the theory is the toxic chemicals will kill or chase away the cancer for a period of time, but it's all dependent on so many factors. Many of those factors are based on how much of the side effects each person can endure. Sometimes the chemicals will kill off the Cancer cells for good, and that's what everyone hopes. But the reality is, it's a crap shoot... If luck is on your side you have a good chance. <br />
<br />
When he was first diagnosed I had so many people ask me if we were going to go to the Cancer Research Center, Dana Farber, the cancer center in Texas for another opinion. Well, here's what I told everyone...I did lots of research on my own, spoke to a Myeloma specialist, went on the website for Myeloma, checked out the pharmaceutical companies blurbs, you name it, between my daughter and I we did out homework. <br />
<br />
This type of cancer has a regular protocol. Yes, there are lots of new studies and ideas about this cancer, but the bottom line is not everyone will be able to take new drugs, or they may make them sicker. It depends on so many variables... If you are diagnosed with any cancer and you're pretty young, you may have a better chance but then again...if you're older and have lived through some of the other health issues as you've gone through life, you may have some antibodies that will help to kill off some of these cancer cells...then again...maybe not. <br />
<br />
You usually don't get anything definitive from the Oncologist's either. They know better than to give false hope, no hope, possible hope, whatever. They end up giving you the same information you've gleaned yourself from your research... That's the God's honest truth.<br />
<br />
There's always hope. People will say that all the time, and they are absolutely correct, there is hope. You can ask everyone to pray or send positive energy, Reiki through cyber space all sorts of things, and some of it may help, so go for it.<br />
<br />
We are hanging in and doing things as they come. I have a neighbor mowing my lawn right now. There's another neighbor doing my raking in the front yard. I can only do so much and yard work kills my back so the neighborhood has taken it upon their hands to help out where they can. I have another neighbor making a platform for Larry's recliner chair to raise the height to make it easier for him to get out of the chair. He's moved from a wheelchair to a walker, so that's progress. <br />
<br />
Starting on Monday we will be going to out patient Physical Therapy. That will at least get us out of the house and we'll be able to see other walls rather than the ones in this house. <br />
<br />
It's not easy, and for me it's a struggle, but it is what it is...<br />
<br />
I am blessed to have people helping me with everything. I couldn't do all this on my own it's just too much...<br />
<br />
Karma is great....for so many years I've tried to help out other people, now I'm getting my rewards.<br />
<br />
<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-54665804002955439802017-04-21T11:10:00.000-07:002017-04-21T11:10:17.547-07:00Maybe too much info....so if it is stop reading....no worriesI see by the dates the last time I wrote something...almost totally something was in January....Now here it is April... Lots of changes have happened in a very short time. None of them great changes, but after all the only constant in life is change so I guess it's the way it is.<br />
<br />
At the end of January we were going to Doc appointments to see why Larry's back was giving him so much trouble. There was talk of muscle tears, tendon pulls, you name it. The Primary Care Doc wrote a prescription to have him go to Physical Therapy (PT). So, that same day we headed over to the local PT office and signed him up. <br />
<br />
He did that for about 6 sessions and things were progressing horribly... After going back to the PPC again it was decided he should have an MRI, that day. He was unable to lay down at that time so the screaming in the MRI machine was incredible. Somehow he, and the staff managed the test and he was wheeled out in a wheel chair to my waiting car. The drive home was very difficult and painful for him, and me as well...<br />
<br />
The next day was worse but we had to go to the Doc to see the results of the test... We had taken one of the other tests to determine what was going on and those results would be there as well. The PPC was very sure we were dealing with MM (Multiple Myeloma) and it was a treatable, albeit not curable kind of cancer of the bone/blood. <br />
<br />
That was the beginning of what has become a long arduous journey of Docs, meds, nurses, hospitals and new vocabulary lessons. The internet was a great research tool and there were many resources to get more information about a disease I had rarely heard about. Although, I knew Tom Brokow had retired as a result of contracting MM. <br />
<br />
We had more Docs to see. This time they were Oncologists and Radio-logical and an assortment of other technicians and lab workers...<br />
<br />
The fun began...<br />
<br />
to be continuedSuzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-35381375260918525402017-01-05T14:43:00.003-08:002017-01-05T14:43:55.362-08:00Listen up...you may learn something...<br />
This blog and others I write I write quickly with rarely any thought to proper grammar or spelling. These are "off the cuff" no holding back...They are what they are...<br />
<br />
******** <br />
<br />
In the past I've written blogs concerning things I see on a daily basis. Sometimes they're funny and I try to convey that in the blog. At other times they may be observations of how I understand things. This is one of those, not gloom and doom but reality of things that you may not understand or never have to deal with in your life. <br />
<br />
I've been a student of psychology and sociology. My specialty was in the field of "Aging, death and dying". I read all the literature I could get my hands on about the psychological process of grief. How it affects the brain, how the physiology of the body reacts to stress, how seemingly simple tasks are overwhelming to the grief stricken. Yeah, right. Let me clue you in to the reality of this stuff from my new perspective. I feel as though I'm doing a PSA (public service announcement) to all the uninitiated. No kidding.<br />
<br />
First of all, the books that are written about grief give you a glossed over version of what the person writing about the grief thinks. That person usually has some notion of the workings of grief but they can't know what you or anyone else is going through. They can surmise things but that's about all. <br />
<br />
Grief is a personal journey. It's sure not easy and it's not something you can tell someone about. Yes, you can give them the generalizations that everyone thinks about but not the nitty gritty. Some grieve sincerely forever, never leaving the initial grief stage. Some seem to bounce back shoving the grief into some dark recesses of their mind, hoping to bury it so deep as to never find it again (doesn't work by the way- it will get you in other ways-trust me on that).<br />
<br />
I've been going to therapy, listening to the stories of others. I thought at first, "What in God's name am I going to get out of this. I've studied all this stuff ad nausea". I know the theory. I know what to expect. I understand what's happening to me. I know what the next step is and I'll get through it ....no sweat.<br />
<br />
Was I too cavalier about grief? You bet. Was I holding myself above the others thinking I knew more than they did? Of course. Was I sure that I knew best? Yes, I did. <br />
<br />
The one thing that made me laugh (to myself) was when my daughter realized that I was a basket case and she was shocked to see her, "bad ass Mother (her words)" vulnerable. That made me start thinking about other folks who have parents who they think are "bad ass", "tough", "capable" "with it", etc. <br />
<br />
Grief has a way of taking over your life. You are dealing so hard with the grief you can't seem to focus on anything else. You see things that have to be done but you don't give a rats ass about any of them. Not because you're thinking about the one you've lost but you're trying to keep breathing, in and out ( and trust me that may be the only thing you accomplish of some days). It's not depression, it's a sort of depression. Granted, some may go into full fledged clinical depression but from where I sit it's not what I'm seeing. I've seen the full fledged clinical depression, experienced even and I'm hear to tell you this is different. I think there should be a different word used when "depression" is a result of a death of a loved one. I don't know, maybe, "soul longing? unknown fear dwelling", something other than "depression".<br />
<br />
Most people have no idea how tough it is to go through the day not knowing what that day will bring. Will I break down in the super market because I see something my kid loved as an adult, a kid? Will I look at Gatorade differently because that was his drink of choice. Will I see someone who doesn't know my son is dead and they ask, "So how is the family these days?'. Then when you tell them they look as though a shutter has dropped over their eyes and they flounder to say something "profound". (the best thing to say is, "I don't know what to say"...it covers it all. The worst thing to say is, " OMG How did it happen?" that's usually their immediate thought. Then if they're really stunned they say, "Well, he's in a better place...". No, he isn't, he should be here with his family and us... The worst is when someone says, "OMG, I don't know how you're handling this, I'd kill myself". Yep, that's been said. I know it's not meant to be cruel but it is. <br />
<br />
Most of us want to talk about our loved one. We love to hear the stories of them and things they did that we may or may not of heard about before, it's kind of nice. So don't be afraid to give us reminders of past things it keeps the memories alive and in some way the loved one as well. <br />
<br />
Well, that's it for me... I can write for a time but then I can become overwhelmed, as I am right now. <br />
<br />
This has been your PSA understand?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-68863351119372965622016-12-29T16:22:00.000-08:002016-12-29T16:22:11.060-08:002016 Be gone damn you.....We are quickly approaching the end of a lousy year. Not just lousy for me but for multitudes of folks this has been a year with no comparison. We've seen things happen this year that we've never seen, nor ever thought would happen. <br />
<br />
Our personal loss was horrific, something no parents should have to endure. However, parents all over the world endure the pain of the losses of their children. We all hope it won't happen to us, but for some of us, it does.<br />
<br />
Our difficulties are continuing. We don't ever know when we will break down. We are aging rapidly. The loss of our child hit us violently. It's hit us at our most vulnerable. It's not held back. It keeps jabbing at us and kicking us when we're down.<br />
We seek counsel and hear the other folks talk about their emotions and how they handle things that are hitting them from stem to stern. These folks may have a loss similar to ours but how they handle their own emotions, I can never understand, because I am not them, nor them me. Yes, we understand the feelings of loss and we can sympathize but we can't know what their daily life is like without that loved one. We can barely understand our own daily life without our own loved one. <br />
<br />
It seems that every week, no make that almost every day, there has been another celebrity or prominent person lost. No matter who it might be it makes our loss more tangible. We could have been in a good spot for a minute or two then we're hit between the eyes with something else tragic. It puts us into another tailspin.<br />
<br />
So I guess what I'm trying to say is: be nice to everyone because you don't have a clue what they are dealing with on a minute to minute basis. They can show a facade of happiness and be dying in the inside. They can look fabulous, even enviable, but be riddled with disease you can't imagine. <br />
<br />
The losses to the universe as a whole are not all known to us yet.
We'll see what happens over this next year. Things may not be as bad as
we think they're going to be, but then again, there's no guarantee of
that either. I guess it's "one day at a time" to the rescue again for
all of us.<br />
<br />
For us 2017 can't come soon enough... <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-51629434997095211012016-11-29T06:32:00.001-08:002016-11-29T06:32:23.653-08:00The Search<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">The Search </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">I have
always believed that persons who leave their vessels (bodies) manage to be in
many places at many times. When they first leave, their spirit hangs
around to make sure everyone left behind is doing OK. As the time goes by
the spirit makes the transition for the living easier by enabling the loved
ones to remember times that were once only a fleeting memory in a
subconscious. These long buried memories help the living to remember and
move the forgotten memories into the forefront of the minds of the
living. It seems, at first, to be counterproductive for the living,
but in reality it’s cocooning the living in a warmth only to be given by the
one they’ve lost. </span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">As the
time goes on, the living, with the cocoon of remembrances, feel the warmth and
laughter they thought they’d never feel or hear again. That’s when
healing starts…It’s a slow process, but a needed process. The spirit is
always near at this time, waiting to see what to do to help the living
adjust. When the spirit feels the time is right, it lifts itself to a
higher plain, still watching and listening, but allowing the living to get on
with their life making sure the living is still cocooned in the memories and
remembrances of the loved one they can no longer feel. The spirit then
allows the remembrances and memories to become lodged in the heart of the
living and no longer in the subconscious of the brain. </span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">When
the living puts their hand over their heart they can feel the essence of the
loved one they lost and a calming will come over the living, telling them that
“it’s alright, I’m still here and I’ll never be gone as long as you remember
me”.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>*******************************************************</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">The time had come for the long trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip to find himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip to understand the why’s and what’s
of his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He needed to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His yearning for answers could no longer be
held in check.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He loved the ones left
behind, but his pursuit of his truth was more than he could bear.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">His car was packed, his survival gear categorized He was ready
for the journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mapping out his route
he started on his quest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would be
long, and arduous, but it was his time to complete this trip of a lifetime. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">His pain was intense, both physical and psychological, but he
was ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His friends and family tried
to stop this seemingly disastrous journey stating it should not be done alone,
it wasn’t the right time to be making this pilgrimage, and there were things to
do at home and not the time to be going away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>None of that mattered to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
was on a mission to accomplish something that few would attempt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a broken man physically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A man who had always been the strongest, the
most thoughtful and wise of his cadre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This brokenness bothered him, it put him into a depression of sorts that
could only be assuaged by doing the undoable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was driven. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">His thoughts were to camp in remote places where he could
commune with all he loved, the trees, the soil, the land the fresh air, the waters,
the nights and days, alone, with only his own thoughts and prayer.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">His love for God and his need to show God he was a man of faith,
further lent fuel to the desire to make this journey. He was in God’s country,
the unknown to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was going to make
sure he was one with the elements and come out a better person. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">That was not to be…maybe.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Those left behind were worried when he didn’t contact them, but
they knew he was on a silent quest and it wasn’t the first time he had followed
his heart to seek out the answers to the questions in his mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He needed the time to think and “get back on
track”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They weren’t aware that he was “
on track” just not the one they felt he should be on.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Time went by, still on contact. What to do? Where to look?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Should we look? Would we be intruding on a
personal quest? We sat and wondered if we were doing the right thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Should we have taken things into our own
hands and stopped this journey? I said, “No, this is a personal journey we
should not interfere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let him have this
time but let’s give ourselves a date to start another phase”. Our decision was
to “Let go, Let God”, hand it to a higher power knowing we were really unable
to control anything at this point and to keep swirling around in a whirlpool of
worry was not helping any of us… We gave it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We sat back and waited for a higher power to take over to lead us to our
next step. It wasn’t easy to sit back and let the chips fall where they would,
but it was the only thing and the right thing to do. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">We would wait just 12 hours when the phone call came from a
Detective in Iowa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told us his car
was found in a semi remote area, but they didn’t find him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A trail camera was installed to see if there
would be any activity in the next few days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was obvious to the Detective that he had been camping on private
property, a farmers land far into an area the farmer didn’t plant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His car was in the open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The farmer saw it and watched for a few days
before calling it in to the authorities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The farmer was worried about the person who was camping since he hadn’t
seen anyone near the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t angry
at the person camping, he just thought someone should check on him. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">The trail camera saw no activity after three days, so the
searches were started in earnest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had
to make missing persons reports in order for more intense searches could be
made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were helicopters, dogs,
volunteers, people we didn’t know nor maybe never would know looking in earnest
for signs of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two of his friends
flew in to the area to help with the searches knowing they were more knowledgeable
about him than the multitudes of strangers who had taken up the job of trying
to find an unknown person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Rocks were turned over, camps were checked for signs of him,
stored boats were flipped over, posters and flyers made and were given to
everyone they encountered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some had seen
him days before walking and riding his bicycle. Some had spoken to him and
thought him to be a “really nice guy”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He had been all around, but now was gone. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">The river was high, higher than usual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rains had swelled the river to rise above
its normal height.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The search was now on
the banks of the swollen, raging river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Signs of him were there: his water purifying kit, a boot print, and
water bottles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where was he?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did he fall into the river?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The search extended down the river slopes to
the edges of the raging river. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">On the other side of one area was an old quarry, still, dark,
deep and cold, oh so cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The search and
rescue changed to a search and recovery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are certain protocols that are adhered to in any kind of
searches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">The Detective overseeing this search was more than helpful in
helping his two friends searching for him. He was a compassionate and caring
man who was willing to give leeway to these two friends, he had never seen before
this time in his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt the pain
the friends were in and knew their friend was someone who was loved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He let the friends do what they needed to do
and didn’t try to stop them, just guide them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">The two friends along with the Detective came up with a scenario
which could explain what had happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was no proof other than what experience had taught the Detective
and armed with the only physical evidence they found it was probably, not
completely, but probable, accurate. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">They found a boot print near the river and the water
supplies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a slide mark close
by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The edges of the river were steep
and muddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He slid into the raging river
was the thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The river claimed even the strongest at times
and swept bodies down towards the great Mississippi, we may never again see him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was the thought, but they didn’t give up
the search…The friends had to return to their lives and the search would go
on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">We waited, and waited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Worry over came any other thoughts in our minds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We wondered how we could go on not knowing
where he was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could we ever get closure?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew he was gone to another dimension.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could feel him around me, but I’d never hug
him again. I’d never feel his soft lips giving me a kiss before he left my
house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d never again hear him utter
the words, “love you Mom”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that was
OK, I knew he was no longer in pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
was no longer searching. He was no longer alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was where he needed to be, not where we
wanted him to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Time marched on. In retrospect, it wasn’t really that long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much happened during that time that he
wasn’t part of at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed as
though he was hovering nearby but unable to get to us, or us to him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">One of the friends went back again to see if anything else had
been discovered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Detective went to
the airport to collect the friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
had become friends during the search and rescue/recovery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was still an integral part of the
case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Detective gave the friend all
the information from the forensic team to read, so the friend would realize the
extent of the ongoing investigation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was an extensive report.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They hadn’t
just made it into a “cold case”. They were actively still looking and waiting
for information to turn up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The farmer
was more than generous to the friend and the Detective stating he wanted the
car to stay where it was, no need to impound and tow, let it stay, just in case
he came back to get it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These were
people none of us knew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People who lived
in a state far from out home, Iowa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">They were the salt of the Earth types.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t know them but they were instant
friends. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Finally, in the night, the phone rang. It was the
Detective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A body had surfaced in the
quarry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There wasn’t an official
identification but there was a probable one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He had a tattoo on his left arm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A tattoo of a Scottish Rampant Lion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I remember being furious that he wanted a tattoo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He came home, said, “Mom, I got a tattoo”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was angry as he was pulling up his sleeve
and I saw it was the Scottish Lion….My birthplace’s standard of strength…He had
outmaneuvered me again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">That tattoo identified him as my son, my baby, my boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A new chapter in our lives would now begin.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">To be continued…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-85121102069353102962016-09-09T17:04:00.001-07:002016-09-09T17:04:12.643-07:00Time to write...Well, I see it's been a very long time since I sat down and wrote anything at all on this site. This past year has been a trial, to say the least, but I'm not going to write about that at all. Enough has been said to the folks that needed to hear it, I don't need to tell the world.<br />
<br />
It seems to me that so many of my contemporaries are afraid to speak up and ask questions about things they should know about. I don't understand all the secrecy. OK, some of the stuff is hard to talk about, but most of the things are universal difficulties we all have at one time or another. I try to understand where they are coming from and it's all about that "NUMBER"....their age. They don't want to think about aging and what age brings to most of us, so, if they ignore it until it can no longer be ignored they're thrilled. You know, out of sight out of mind? <br />
<br />
I don't believe it that. I get more information (and some odd looks at times) when I blurt out questions. I don't really care what others think, I want some answers. You can only look at WEB MD so many times and then you find out you're old and it's part of aging or some other such rot. I want true answers, not Internet answers, which may, or may not be correct. Who knows? Certainly not me.<br />
<br />
<br />
Oh well, I'll keep blurting out questions in the hopes that someone will shut me up with answers...maybe someday.....oh bother.... Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-55524189695662676962015-06-02T17:13:00.000-07:002015-06-02T17:13:32.308-07:00Alzheimer's- the Demon within.....Another change in my life. Things don't stay the same, I know that, but I don't have to like it...and I don't.<br />
<br />
Lunch with Emily has always been fun, but now there's a new twist and some new activities. She's now in an assisted living facility....and very nice one, but not her home....She lets me know that almost every minute. <br />
<br />
Today was my first experience with her in the assisted facility. The staff were all very gracious and helpful. The lunch was very...institutional...but nutritious and plenty. If you wanted more you could ask for more. I should be the one staying there...You get enough and you don't get a chance to be greedy or glutinous.....I'd lose weight. Emily should gain weight because she sure hasn't been gaining weight, nor for that matter, keeping weight on at all lately.<br />
<br />
It's sad when you have a loved one in any kind of facility. Intellectually I know it's the right place for her right now and probably forever, but emotionally I have a feeling of grief... It's as though I've lost part of me. It's not that I'm thinking about my own mortality per se, but something I always thought of as never changing has indeed changed and can never be put back to rights...<br />
<br />
My cousin has been a part of my life since the day I was born. She is 7 years my elder. I am an only child and she is as close to a sister to me as I will ever have. <br />
<br />
She is the only person who shared my childhood bedroom. She lived with me, my Mom and Dad from age 19 until she married and moved out at age 24. You may not think that's a long time, but it was intensive and felt as though she always lived in our house. <br />
<br />
Time went on and we went our separate ways. Me to college, then my own marriage, Emily to build her home not far from me, but still not in the bed next to mine...We had children...We lived our lives different from one another, but we were still connected by the thread of family connection. We saw each other sporadically over the years but managed to meet monthly for lunch and catch up on the goings on of each family. <br />
<br />
Our kids knew each other a bit, but they too had their own friends and families. Still the thread connected all of us like an invisible lasso. We could pull it together at times, weddings, funerals, graduations, but usually it was loosely held around us. I thought it was like a safety belt, "just in case" we needed it.<br />
<br />
As we've aged things have changed. We remember the past as though it was yesterday, but Emily doesn't remember yesterday and that is frustrating to her. Her sentence structure is sometimes non-existent...but that's OK...I can keep track...Her information is scattered all over her brain and it sometime takes hours to get it into the right order for more than just her understanding of what she's trying to say. I can deal with that as well. <br />
<br />
I can handle things as they are as long as I know there is a safe place for her to be. The place is safe. She tries to escape out of every EXIT but the staff is on to her now, so she keeps them hopping..<br />
<br />
Alzheimer's disease is a bitch. There's no other word for it...It's a bitch. In the case of my cousin, it's the family disease. Luckily we're pretty sure it's her Mom's family and that will exclude me and mine from that particular strain, but who knows what the future holds for any of us?<br />
<br />
My studies had me research the Dementia's and none of them were pretty to see or read about, but the beginnings of Alzheimer's, is a tougher deal...It's an insidious disease, it sort of creeps up on you when you're not looking. If you have no other people in your family who have preceded you with this disease, you can lose time in getting a good diagnosis, and medication to help slow the progression....There is no cure, but some medications may help slow the spiral down that slippery slope where there's no turning back.<br />
<br />
I know I must accept the cruelties of the disease, but I sure as Hell don't have to like that acceptance and I don't .<br />
<br />
I'll keep visiting Emily, giving her my love and company and hope she continues to remember me as I remember her and the fun we've had over the last 68 years....Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-11096747343501352052015-05-14T16:47:00.001-07:002015-05-14T16:47:17.180-07:00So all right already...I've been getting grief from some folks because I am remiss in my blog writing. So rather than continuing to listen to the queries as to why I've been so quiet, here I am...<br />
<br />
Life is funny. I know you've heard and read that a hundred times or more but honest, it really is funny if you really observe your fellow man. <br />
<br />
1. I watched a man come out of Stewart's convenience store today carrying more than any one person should try to carry at one time. I watched him thinking, "this is going to end badly". I was correct. Every single item he was attempting to carry all at once hit the bricks; coffee, a bag with bread, butter, a jar of "something" and peanut butter hit the ground. The jar broke and the "something" spilled over his cute little bare toes...He had sandals on but they were not substantial...just some straps of fake leather...The man tried to catch some of the stuff in mid fall, but ended up slamming into the car (I hope it was his) and kind of slid down the side in a heap....I know I shouldn't have laughed and to be honest I tried to hold it in, but I couldn't...<br />
<br />
2. A woman (who should have known better) was walking at a quick pace while looking down at her phone. She was obviously oblivious to her surroundings as she walked off a curb and fell to her knees...Again, I knew I shouldn't laugh, and this time I didn't. I ran over to help her and she sort of waved me away never once letting her eyes leave the screen of her phone...Now, come on...<br />
<br />
3. At the gas station, I observed a youngish man (again with the man...) as he filled up his vehicle. He was paying no attention to anything at all. I thought he was in some state of meditation or something. I watched him as he filled the car and when the hose stopped filling (because the tank was filled...duh...) he proceeded to pull the hose out just a little to add more, then a little bit farther up to add more, then the hose was out of the filler and he sprayed the gasoline all over his feet. First of all, I never thought that could happen with all those safety things on the hoses these days....wrong. The guy was furious. I watched and thought, "I hope he's not a smoker".<br />
<br />
So now I've started to blog again. I'm done for tonight....I'm tired......Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-77495706761506605472015-02-03T17:02:00.000-08:002015-02-03T17:02:22.183-08:00Land that time should forget....let them all stay as they are....Been quite a while since I sat down to write a blog. I've been doing a bunch of other things and haven't had the opportunity to sit a write for fun...However, tonight I'm sitting at the beach. I'm a bit tired from being in the sun most of the afternoon. I am not sunburned, thanks be to sunscreen...<br />
<br />
We are again in God's waiting room. The last couple of years we were not quite in this area of Florida. Last year we were in the middle of the state, near "Mouse Land"...We didn't like it there. It was a bit fake...No, make that a lot fake.<br />
<br />
This year we're back in the waiting room, where everyone here is older than we are, and that's not too bad. I try to find places that are off the beaten track and not so "where the cool kids are". By that I mean, not in the middle of the hoity-toity groups that are all over the place down here. <br />
<br />
They make all sorts of "fun" things to do: Roaring 20's parties, 60's sock hops, Sci-fi weirdo things, and of course the ever popular, Elvis impersonator dances... We've hit some of them over the years just to see what's what. <br />
<br />
This year we are in a 1930's Florida cottage (a..k.a. "camp") that has been totally rehabbed and has all the mod-cons that are necessary for life as we know it today. We have two bedrooms and only one bath (I told you it's like a camp). It is very well appointed with all the stuff needed to do just about anything you may need to do. <br />
<br />
The area is very residential. Most of the other folks around here stay down here for half the year. As I said before, most of the folks are older than us. Many have residual effects of pretty devastating illnesses and the like. It's kind of like looking in a mirror and maybe seeing your future...and I hope I'm wrong, but we all have to go sometime. <br />
<br />
The air here is warm but the ocean is cold, not cold enough for me to fore go walking in it looking for shark's teeth along with hundreds of other old farts.<br />
<br />
The conversations you hear are all the same. It doesn't matter where you hear them, a restaurant, museum, the beach, casually strolling down a street just about everywhere. First comes the talk about meds., then Docs, on to pooping, either too much or too little. Honest to God, I'm not kidding. It seems that everyone is obsessed with their evacuation. I guess it's because it's a commonality between people of a certain age.<br />
<br />
The driving hasn't gotten better down here either. We have seen some really bad driving and I shudder every time I see a Buick sedan in my rear view mirror. I'm never sure if I should keep my eyes on the front windshield or the rear. I've gotten whiplash every time I've come down here to the country that waits for God's finger to crook their way. <br />
<br />
I'm not being "snotty" as my husband suggests, I'm only observing from my vantage point. It's quite amazing to think that all these <i>really</i> old people down here were once young and vibrant. Granted, some are still quite vibrant for about two hours (usually in the early morning hours-that's when all the garage sales take place) then it's nap time to get ready for "cocktail time"...Every day...day after day...<br />
<br />
Oh well, more later.....<br />
<br />
Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-79686489709498341142014-10-14T11:52:00.001-07:002014-10-14T11:52:14.856-07:00Always try new restaurants....at least twice...maybeI'm all about trying out new and different restaurants or stores at least twice. The first time isn't always the impression that should linger in your data banks....Give it another try, at a different time, or day...<br />
<br />
That being said, today we had some errands to do, We thought since we were out anyway we could go to lunch at the new Mediterranean Restaurant that's opened in Ballston Spa. Now here's where it gets tricky. Ballston Spa is a village. A village in Northern New York (not "upstate" like Westchester County in the Catskill Mountains....no...we are in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains...you know Adirondack Chairs, bears, snow, cold weather, sort of rednecks....That Northern New York...closer to Montreal than New York City...Got it?). We go for Pizza, wings, dough boys, and nachos (not because we're ethnically diverse...we just like grease).<br />
<br />
Why these folks that run the new restaurant think it will make it here is beyond me. I love Mediterranean foods but most of my friends look at it as though it's too foreign (like they USED to with Nachos by the way). We're always looking for things that are new and different so we went there.<br />
<br />
We should have known been on the ball as soon as we walked in...There was not a soul in the place. No one in the kitchen, no one in the bathrooms, no one at the counters...Nada...not one living soul ( unless you count the bee and the fly that was buzzing around). I went through the kitchen to an open outside door...I have to tell you I was a bit apprehensive to go meandering through the door, but I'm brave I poked my head outside and saw three folks sitting at a plastic table drinking something...coffee? tea? Scotch? who knew? I said, "Hello...? Is anyone working? Are you open?" They all jumped up in startled amazement by my intrusion into their sun worshiping. <br />
<br />
Full of apologies they showed us to tables and gave us the menu. The food listing was interesting, if not sparse. Clearly the owners were trying to convert the masses (?) who came in to a Mediterranean diet with no possible chance of any other food choices....But what the heck, it all looked pretty good to me...Not so to the unadventurous one of this pairing....Larry looked lost...I interpreted the menu for him and he made a good choice of chicken kebabs (how wrong can you go with that?). I decided on Calamari Salad. I love calamari and if anyone can cook it right it's the folks who live on the Mediterranean Sea.<br />
<br />
The waiter was probably an out of work actor left over from the Saturday Night Fever movie...You know the type....tall slender, coiffed hair with enough hair gel to use his head as a weapon of mass destruction. He had on Khaki's, a long sleeved deep purple shirt, black dress shoes...Honest, I kept thinking he was going to start singing Bee Gee's songs. He took our order, sort of, turned to go to the kitchen, returned to our table to ask us again what we wanted. (OK it's a new place, he's probably never been a waiter before we'll give him the benefit of the doubt...this time). He returns again with my water, Larry's soda...(wrong kind by the way).<br />
<br />
It's hotter than Hell in this place so the owner (?), certainly not John Travolta's stunt double, opens up the door...There are flies...there are bees...there are little tiny flies...not pretty. Another couple comes in and I'm hard pressed to continue to sit in my chair...I want to get up and tell them, "Run, run...go away while you have the chance". But no, I sit there and mind my own business. Another woman comes in to pick up an order for her office. The stunt double gives her the bill. It's over $50.00. She looks at the bill. I'm watching her as I can see the machinations of her brain working overtime....She isn't expecting the bill to be this high. I didn't expect the bill to be that high. I was watching as they were gathering all the take-out stuff. Poor woman, she gets out her phone to call the office and says (remember, I'm within ear shot) "What the F*** did you guys order? It's over $50..." Her face is now bright red. She hands stunt double her plastic. Stunt double rings up the amount in the cash register, hands the customer the receipt to sign. She looks at the receipt and says, "The bill was $52.00, this receipt says $520.00. That's not right" (thank God she looked at it before she signed). Now stunt double is freaking out....I can see the rivulets of sweat pouring down his face. Enter "THE OWNER", the one who so wisely opened the door to let all flying things into the restaurant...<br />
<br />
Larry who is practically stone deaf can't hear any of the discussion
but he knows things are escalating because he sees me squirming in my
seat... He knows me well enough to understand I'm internally laughing so
hard my guts are pushing my bladder...<br />
<br />
I'm sitting very close to all this action. I'm trying not to laugh. I'm afraid to get up to go to the bathroom that I so desperately need. The customer is standing by the register, stunt double and "The Owner" and all huddled together. The owner grabs the check, shakes his head, looks at the stunt double and says, "What? you stupid? You charged for dinner menu, it's lunch you dope". Stunt double says, "So confusing, the menu...The food is the same, lunch, dinner...just the prices are different. So confusing". I'm nearly making a puddle now. I can't hold it much longer...I literally jump from my seat, making one step from my table into the ladies room. In there I can still hear the discussion of stunt double and THE OWNER, and I know all the other patrons are well aware of the conversation as well.<br />
<br />
The owner straightens out the customer's bill....giving her some free dessert items (good move on his part) and she leaves...Now our food is on it's way...<br />
The food is really good, no kidding but the entertainment is superb. It's OK that this place is supposed to be a restaurant only....if you keep your eyes closed it's sort of like a Seinfeld episode with the Soup Nazi. <br />
<br />
By the way, our bill was also wrong...but all is good... It was corrected. Are we going to give it another try? I will, because it was one of the best laughing lunches I've had in years. Larry? I don't think he's as brave as I am...Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-68710230553633141232014-09-30T11:46:00.000-07:002014-09-30T11:46:02.331-07:00Another Day at the OfficeThis is day number two at the office that's usually peaceful, quiet, and generally a pleasure to work in. However, as I said yesterday, the world is filled with crazy people, no longer are people rational, pleasant or courteous. As a matter of fact, I think the word "courteous" has been removed from the dictionary. It's probably been replaced by words like miserable, rotten, creepy, horrible and bitchy.<br />
<br />
Today was slow. People came in and paid bills, bought insurance, asked about claims info. They were all pretty nice. I started to wonder if I had gone into a new dimension when I left for work this morning, because for sure I wasn't in the same place as yesterday. I should have known it wouldn't last. <br />
<br />
<u><strong>Customer 1:</strong></u> Where's the agent?<br />
Me: well the owner agent is not available but everyone in this office is an agent, how may we help you?<br />
Customer: How long have YOU been here?<br />
Me: This week? about 24 hours but with the company 28 years. I work in all the agencies covering for folks who are out<br />
Customer: So that means you're like a Kelly Girl?<br />
Me: Ha ha, well perhaps a Kelly Girl with licences, certifications, and instructor licences...I usually call myself a "licence for hire"...ha ha. Now what can I help you with today. <br />
Customer: How do I know that you won't get my information and sell it to another source?..... (who? Geico? AFLAC?) <br />
Me: I work for this company only and have done so since the eighties.<br />
Customer: Prove it...<br />
Me: Well, I can show you all my licenses, and the certifications I carry, as well as my Notary Public license. <br />
Customer: let me see<br />
Me: Here they all are<br />
Customer: Well I guess I can talk to you<br />
Me: sure I'll try to help as best I can<br />
Customer: What do you mean you'll "try" to help? Does that mean you don't know how to do the job?<br />
Me: considering I don't know what you need I have to assume that I will know what you need but there is a possibility that I will have to get additional information to complete your request<br />
Customer: Well, I want to know that if I ask YOU the question I'll be able to get the answer I want. <br />
Me: Well, I can't guarantee that, however I'm sure we'll be able to come to some mutual agreement of some kind.<br />
Customer: I don't like you. I'm leaving<br />
Me: Have a nice day......<br />
<br />
<strong><u>Customer 2:</u></strong> Who are you?<br />
Me: I'm Suz. What can I help you with today? <br />
Customer: I don't know you<br />
Me: Probably not, but I'm here once in a while when people are out. I help in the agencies<br />
Customer: Do you know your stuff?<br />
Me: Depends on what you're alluding to<br />
Customer: Oh shit, you're one of those college broads<br />
Me: Yep, that would be me<br />
Customer: Well I pay your salary, so don't you forget that..<br />
Me: Technically you're probably correct<br />
Customer: You bet your sweet bippy I'm <strong><em>correct....</em></strong> <br />
Me: I there something I can help you with<br />
Customer: I need to pay a bill. The bill that probably pays your salary<br />
Me: I wish it did. <br />
Customer: so where's my receipt?<br />
Me: Who are you and what are you paying?<br />
Customer: Don't get snippy with me? ...(Trust me he doesn't know "snippy" yet)<br />
Me: I need your last name so I can get into your policy and transmit the payment. <br />
Customer: Well, the other people don't need me to tell them who I am<br />
Me: Well Sir, I don't know who you are, I'm not here all the time so I haven't learned all 2700 customers names....(now we are starting to get to the "snippy" from me [part)<br />
Customer: Oh, there's that many here?<br />
Me: Probably more than that<br />
Customer: OK I'll play your way.... (WTF...am I now a freaking mind reader)<br />
Me: That would be helpful.<br />
<br />
<strong><u>Customer 3: </u></strong> Telephone rings......Hello, I have insurance with you.<br />
Me: how can I help<br />
Customer: I want to know why my insurance is cancelled<br />
Me: Can you give me your last name and I'll check your policies to see what's going on?<br />
Customer: Can't you tell by my phone number?<br />
Me: The number that comes up seems to be a business. Is this a business account<br />
Customer: No, my own personal account<br />
Me: Is you name **** LLC?<br />
Customer: No, that's who I work for<br />
Me: What is your name Ma'am?<br />
Customer: whispering.....Sally ***.<br />
Me: and you live at 12 ****?<br />
Customer: still whispering....How did you know that?<br />
Me: Your address is part of your policy<br />
Customer: Who is this?<br />
Me: My name is Suz<br />
Customer: Who the Hell are you?<br />
Me: (go through all the hoopla again)<br />
Customer: Oh yeah I remember you from before<br />
Me: I thought your name was familiar<br />
Customer: What's that supposed to mean?<br />
Me: Nothing I just remember talking to you in the past<br />
Customer: Because I was a bitch?<br />
Me: Gees, I don't remember that at all. You were very nice (my brain is now going through all the saved data to try to remember something about this lady at the same time I'm in her account reading notes from 3 [three!!] years ago....I find something) I remember you called about your son and his grades and you wanted to know how to get credit for him for being a good student..(thank you God for the notes I put in and remembering some things)<br />
Customer: Oh yeah....and he is still doing wonderfully...He graduated and is now in Med school. I'm so proud of him <br />
Me: you should be....<br />
Customer: Well, great talking to you<br />
Me: Wait...you called me about your cancellation.<br />
Customer: I remembered, I forgot to pay the bill.....Bye<br />
Me: grrrrrrrr CLICK<br />
<br />
and it's only 2:42 <br />
<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-75390210219786705902014-09-29T16:45:00.000-07:002014-09-29T16:45:09.629-07:00I'm imaginative, but even I couldn't make this stuff up!So... today was a work day for me....I don't work everyday, but I do cover different places when they need someone to help out in emergencies, or for some training. It's good for me and for them, so I continue to do it (when and if I want to).<br />
<br />
I worked in an office that's very familiar to me, so I thought, no problem....a few hours...a few dollars...what's the rub? Well...<br />
<br />
I think the world is coming to an end and all that's left is crazy people...(I may be classifying myself in that category, but I like to think of myself is an observer only).<br />
<br />
<u><b>Call number on</b>e:</u><br />
Customer: Hi, my name is *****. I have policies with you folks and I was wondering if it would be cheaper if my room mates had insurance with you as well. I thought we could all take advantage of multi-car discounts and the like........<br />
Me: Maybe if would, but first I'd have to know some information about your room mates<br />
Customer: OK...well, I live with the father of my two kids and his wife.<br />
Me: Come again?<br />
Customer: I live with the Father of my kids and his wife...I'm away a lot on business so they watch all the kids when I'm not here...<br />
<br />Me: OK...are you all going to be listed on the policies?<br />
Customer: OMG no. His wife is a drunk, and has lost her license. She's also on parole for arson.<br />
Me: Is this a joke?<br />
( and no it wasn't a joke)<br />
<br />
<u><b>Call number 2</b></u>:<br />
Hello, my name is *****. I just need to know if you can give me insurance on my birds?<br />
Me: No, I'm sorry, we don't insure animals.<br />
Customer: What!?! that smacks of discrimination...You people will be hearing from my lawyers...<br />
(hmmm....OK) CLICK!!<br />
<br />
<u><b>Call number 3</b></u>:<br />
Customer: I need to buy insurance for flood<br />
Me: Ok we'll need some information<br />
Customer: no problem ask away<br />
Me: We will need to know where the house is located, the community, and the map designation to determine the cost of the insurance.<br />
Customer: What? Why do you need all that? I"m just insuring it for about three days. There's a flood warning and I want to make sure I'm covered.<br />
Me: I'm so sorry sir. Flood Insurance is regulated by FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Authority) and there is always a waiting period before the policy is effective, if we could write the policy, which unfortunately, since you are in imminent peril we can't even quote you at present.<br />
Customer: Jesus H Christ, why bother with you insurance people...you always find loopholes for us honest citizens....you're all a bunch of leeches.....<br />
Me: Well, sir...I'm sorry we can't help you, have a nice day. CLICK!!<br />
<br />
<u><b>Call number 4:</b></u><br />
Customer: My dog bit my cat. The cat was running down the hall and the dog chased after the cat and bit the cat on the rear end. The cat needs to go to the vet. Can I give them my policy number and your telephone number so they can put the claim in for the damage the dog did to the cat?<br />
Me: No.<br />
Customer: What d'ya mean, no??? I've paid for this &*^% home owners insurance for over 10 years and I've never put in a claim...Now when I need to you say "no".<br />
Me: I'm sorry, but your dog biting your cat is not a covered loss. A loss would have to be something like fire, lightning, trees crashing through the roof, electrical damage, and airplane crashing into the house, collapse...that sort of thing. There would be no coverage for your animals biting each other...or for that matter if your animals bit you or any other person who lives with you..<br />
Customer: So....there's no coverage for my cat?<br />
Me: No, I'm sorry<br />
Customer: Well the cat will have to be put down then. I hope you can sleep tonight knowing you caused a cat to be killed.<br />
Me: I'm so sorry. CLICK!!<br />
<br />
So that's been my day....how about you?Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-37330719250831760122014-08-14T18:31:00.004-07:002014-08-14T18:31:56.936-07:00Tragedy-- depression<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="List Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="List Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 5"/>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
When tragedy strikes all manner of personalities are in evidence in a matter of
nano-seconds. Immediately we are inundated with tirades, rants and unnecessary
lectures about how things should or shouldn’t have been done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To that I say, “Nuts!” Unless you’re walking
in the shoes of the person you have no idea what is going through their mind at
any given time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the case of Robin Williams, he did seek out treatment at
different times of his life but he didn’t get the help he needed at the correct
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may be that he would never have gotten the
correct help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of us can sit in
judgment of a person who is in the throes of mental illness. We can’t imagine
what they are thinking or how they are thinking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We say things like, “How could a person so; wealthy,
healthy, beautiful, handsome or any other thing we think is the epitome of
success, do something so selfish”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who
are we to demand to know why someone does something to themselves?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are we entitled to know everything about
another human being? Do we have the right to foist our own morality, judgment,
or actions on another person?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is sad we’ve lost a great talent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that’s what we’ve lost, a talent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His family lost his love, body, soul, and his
heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will recover, but I wonder how
they will fare… </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Statistically there is a 50% chance that one or all of his
kids will take a suicide route.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope
they’re all diligent in seeking help from qualified therapists if and when they
need it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure they will be seeking
help now if they need it, or someone else thinks they need it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve had my share of depression and unless you have been
treated for clinical depression you can’t really know what it’s like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We see all the advertisements on TV about the
drugs available to treat depression. We also see other ads that tell us we may
have to add more drugs to the ones we’re already taking to combat the
depression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, that’s fine for some
people but we, in the country are far too quick to seek out a pill to help us
“get over the hump” or whatever we may think we need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ask this, “do you think the folks who are
searching for food to continue their existence are looking for a pill to make
them happy?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ergo…we have too much time on our hands. Too
much time wasted on silly unnecessary things; a new electronic device, clothes,
shoes, make-up, cars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are causing
some of our own mental illness, or at least we’re contributing to it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Depression is a slippery slope and once you’re on the
downhill slope it’s kind of hard to stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The answer is to stem it as soon as you know you’re about to enter into
the “dark side”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most folks who have
been in the despairs of depression can pretty much tell when they’re about to
enter into the shadows of their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They try to ignore the signs, but shortly they realize they are walking
a path which will only take them into the darkest depths of the recesses of
their minds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not easy to find the
sun and warmth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a part of you
that feels comfortable in the dark and you don’t want to feel the pull of the
sun, you like the feeling of the familiar comfort of the blanket of darkness
covering you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When you are in the sun,
other folks are pulling and prodding you to do something or be someone you
don’t want to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s sometimes easier
to stay in that dark cocoon and just wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, it’s a trap.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those of us who have battled the depression “monster” know
when we’re in trouble if, and it’s a big IF, we are seeing clearly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There seems to be a feeling from others
who’ve not been to “depression land” that we can “snap” out of it, look on the
bright side, fake it until you make it, smile, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s not good therapy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t have the ability to walk out of the
dark easily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s always something
that has grabbed us and brought us back into the arms of the darkness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only we know how to get ourselves back into
the light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only we know what we have to
do to turn the corner and find a way to walk toward the light. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here lies another problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes the light we seek is not of this world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes the light is from another world, a
world where we may fit better than here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Don’t think that’s a cop out. It’s the truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we are in so much pain with no relief in
sight (and if you’re sitting there thinking, “Suicide is a permanent solution
to a temporary problem” you have no idea what depression is or how you,
yourself would handle it, so keep on reading) the only answer may be suicide…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not advocating suicide, but pain comes in all sorts of
forms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll bet Robin Williams had his
share of both physical and mental pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He tried, for years, to self- medicate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He had the ability to get the best medical treatments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t being selfish or taking an easy way
out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just wanted “out”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are we right to deny him his choice? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-10162643359741517482014-07-14T04:35:00.001-07:002014-07-14T04:35:50.564-07:00People! Mind your mannersI haven't written in quite a number of months, mainly because I've been in an "observation" mode lately. It's fun to watch the actions of other human beings from afar. <br />
<br />
The one thing that seems universal is the lack of manners/etiquette. The past few months I've seen more than the usual lack of manners, sort of like an escalation of rudeness to others, especially in crowded situations. If there's a group of people, you're bound to see rude behavior. I don't remember people being so nasty in past decades. I started to wonder why there was this increase in bad behavior. I've come up with some reasons, not scientific mind you, just probable cause.<br />
<br />
1. The crowd mentality: You get a bunch of people at a "free" function and they get super greedy. The more people, the greedier they all get. It's like a shark feeding frenzy. A table may be laden with "noshes" and in one giant pod of life forces they glom to that table and like locusts devour every last smidgen and crumb. There are arms, shoulders and legs moving in the direction of the food stuffs. Never mind that it may be something they wouldn't eat any other time, it's free so they want it. <br />
<br />
2. The entitled: They are the folks who dragged themselves to an event. It wasn't what they wanted to do, but someone told them they should go. They feel it is their duty to honor the "little people" with their presence. When entering the event, others will observe the haughtiness of their stance. People can see the entitled one is there due to a command performance. It's almost like seeing a Monarch attend nursery school celebrations. They don't want to be there but it's for the "little people". It's pretty entertaining to watch the supposed entitled ones try to keep themselves from being contaminated by the masses, certainly the entitled feels these others are distasteful at the least. Their behavior sparks resentment with the others. There is tension in the air. <br />
<br />
3.The parents: Pushing their kids ahead in the lines...ever so gently. The parents are behind the kids with their knees edging the kids forward. The bunch of living, breathing folks ahead of the kids move a tiny bit forward reducing the "personal space' between them and those in front. The pushed kids get restless, if not a bit squashed and there starts the whining. The parents start to get frustrated hearing the distressed sounds emanating from their young and that's the beginning of anger. The kids want out, the parents want out and the folks in front and behind want out. The tension mounts and someone cracks...then all Hell breaks out. All because the parents were not patient and tried to grab more personal space from someone else. It happens continually.<br />
<br />
4. Lack of preparation: This I blame on the event coordinators. They set up these events, send out all the press releases about the event, advertising this is a free event, then don't anticipate how many will attend. They don't have enough food, drinks, chairs, or anything else needed to make the masses happy. The even starts and it's a free for all. This is not good event planning. <br />
<br />
Those are a few of many problems that I see happening all the time. There shouldn't be any excuse for bad behavior, but when you haven't been taught to be respectful of others, what can you expect? Most of the time they have been taught, but opt to "forget" their manners in response to their immediate wants and desires. <br />
<br />
Ahh....maybe I'm just getting old......<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-58485772079230828502014-02-17T15:23:00.001-08:002014-02-17T15:23:55.137-08:00God's Waiting Room-another partWell... here we are down in God's waiting room, however we're in a different part of the state and it seems to be a couple of steps farther down the ladder from the West coast. The West coast is just waiting for the gates to open so they can all file in. The middle of the state seems to have a bit more life in it. The reason is probably because of the proximity to "The Mouse". <br />
<br />
We still have a feeling that everything is manufactured to be like somewhere else though. As though no one can come up with anything new or creative. For example: all the houses around here look alike. I'm sure the colors of the houses around here came from some guy who thought "pastel" was the only way to go down here. <br />
<br />
The current place we are in is prime example of the lack of diversity in color. You will see cream, pink, yellow and throw-up salmon, that's it....Everything is stucco (I get that....less bugs to contend with) and has goofy outside lights...all exactly the same. They even break the same way at the same time...(synchronized breakage?)<br />
<br />
Of course there's a Homeowners Association here. Every place has a HOA. I'm not sure if it's to help or restrain the inmates...whoops, I mean residents. The rules are strict and I'm sure there's a torture chamber somewhere on the property for those who break (or try to break) the rules. <br />
<br />
This place is gated, walled and guarded 24/7. Again, I'm not sure if it's to keep us in or to keep the outsiders out. I know one thing, it seems to give the residents a sense of ....exclusiveness? perhaps. I think it's to keep "them" from coming in. <br />
Each lovely home has it's own little pool, complete with the cage around it. It's sort of like being in the Zoo and we're the attractions. I'm not so sure I like that...but then again?<br />
<br />
The good thing about being here in the middle of "The Heart of Florida" is we've met some cool folks to hang out with. They're younger than we are, but we won't hold that against them...We find we have similar views and that's unusual for us. Usually down here we're in the minority. Although, it could be because they're Canadian and we seem to get along with them more than with our own countrymen at times. It's not that we dislike our "ain" folk, but we seem to be on opposite ends of the spectrum with many of them, both politically and socially. We like to be inclusive and we find that many don't want to include those who are "different"/<br />
<br />
It's pretty much "white bread" around here and that's odd as well. I like diversity and different points of view. But then I'm a bit different too...<br />
<br />
The traffic is pretty much the same as on the coast. They're all terrible drivers and none of them know where they're going...<br />
<br />
C'est la vie....<br />
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<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-34552430343604855572014-02-10T06:30:00.000-08:002014-02-10T06:30:46.903-08:00Snow Birds flocking to the warmthSo...here we are again in God's waiting room. This year however, we are in the middle of the state. I decided to shoot a dart at the map of Florida and see where it would land. Yep, right in the middle, or the "heart" as they are wont to say here , of Florida. We've landed not too far from the Mouse, but have no intention of meandering over to Mouse Heaven....We might go to a show or something while we're here but not too many.<br />
<br />
People here are different than the ones we encounter on either coast. My ex-Florida buddy tells me I'm in the middle of "Redneck Heaven". She's quite correct. We see all sorts of "country" footsteps around here, from the Western garb stores to the gin mills touting their entertainment of country/western/down-home featured artists (?..that's debatable). <br />
<br />
I see the huge billboards as I drive yelling at me to "See Jesus", "Be saved by the Lord", "Man is short lived, but with Jesus, life everlasting". I wonder how much they (whoever "they" might be) is paying for these billboards that seem to levitate from the ground as I go on my merry way?<br />
<br />
On the back windows of trucks, I see all sorts of scripture statements explaining how life should be lived and never varied. Yesterday I saw one window expressing love for all mankind, then on the bumper a rainbow peace symbol with a red slash across it. I thought that was rather telling of the person behind the wheel...However, I could be prejudging...I don't think so though.<br />
<br />
I see the gun racks on the back of the pick-up window, but I don't see the guns...That's odd to me...but then there's probably a law against riding around with a gun showing in your window....If there isn't a law about that, then there should be one.<br />
<br />
I hear, "God bless" at every turn, and that's nice....but I wonder, is that the "nasty nice" talk I know so many folks in this area commonly indulge in? If had folks say to me, "Now, aren't you the sweetest thang". I know what that <i>really</i> means...I was told by a longtime Texan when you hear that being said think, "Now, what a pain in the ass she is". It's almost interchangeable. It could be...<br />
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The driving over here is not better than on the coast. I thought, since the demographics over here show the area to be younger, then driving would be better, not so. I think it's worse here....Everyone in this general area is from "somewhere else" and they all have the "wild eyed, crazed look" as they drive along. For some reason they've forgotten all the rules of the road they knew when they were, "home". You better be on you best defensive driving mode down here or you'll die in a fiery crash...or be maimed by by someone who's just realized they missed their turn and now you're in their way...No problem though, they'll just squeeze you over and get in the lane where you were. Crazy.<br />
<br />
It's interesting if you look at all the differences as a study in modern humanity...Although, if you do that, you may want to check out of this world and find another....Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-78212221174023090342014-02-06T06:36:00.000-08:002014-02-06T06:36:12.690-08:00This age is tough....We're at the age where picking up the newspaper is mandatory. We need to see who's died... Also, we want to make sure our own names aren't in the Obit column....<br />
<br />
We're not at home at the moment and we find ourselves in a quandary of "what to do, what to do?". We know the answer will unfold if we leave it alone, but the thrashing has started in our minds. It's a tough age....<br />
<br />
We have family and friends in all stages of life and death. We are unable to get to them, and truth be told if we were at home, I'm not sure we'd be doing anything different than we are here in God's waiting room. It just makes us feel a bit helpless and that's where the problem lies.<br />
<br />
All of life's adventures seem to be based in control over something or someone else. We do things to give us a new perspective on our own lives, but we control all the activities to mold them into something we can handle. The problem is, life likes to throw in some punches we've not anticipated and we feel a bit violated. We didn't anticipate this "punch of life" we were going along at our own pace and were thrown into a wall. We now have to step back, take stock on the wall, go around, cut through, something, we didn't want to do in the first place. It's a vicious bite to our neat and orderly existence. <br />
<br />
Doing the best we can doesn't cut it. Someone will be hurt. We don't want to hurt anyone, but the sad truth is if you push someone, they will have to react in some way or another. <br />
<br />
Someone is dying, we won't be able to attend to hold hands, hug, give strength. It will be bad, for us and for them. They need assistance, in the form of money, but it seems so heartless and somehow, cruel. I will send a check for the family because they will need the money for daily expenses until they get on their feet. Nothing will ever be the same for them but we can make things a bit easier for them and maybe that's what we're meant to do...I don't know. <br />
<br />
We don't send flowers anymore because it's a waste of money that the family needs at the time of the death. Sure, the flowers are nice, but they don't put food on the table, or pay the mortgage. It's a practical decision in my mind. BUT I always fear that the recipient will think we're buying our way out of guilt....(which we are really).<br />
<br />
Oh well, I guess I'll let things unfold as it comes..... Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-61362716136832161852013-09-01T17:29:00.000-07:002013-09-01T17:29:09.989-07:00The New Crop of kids Coming Up The Pike...<br />For the past few weeks I've been observing some of the new crop of little kids in my neighborhood, and around the area. We've gone a few years around here with no new little kids, but this year, there are several who've passed the toddler stage and they're now full fledged little people.<br />
<br />
The Mom's and Dad's are a different bunch of folks as well. They aren't like the used to be. These folks are "helicopter" parents. They hover...All the time. They are always with the tykes and don't let them out of their sight for a minute. Honest, it's amazing to see this action.<br />
<br />
I get it. They're hit all the time with the "missing kids", "Amber Alerts" and all the perverted wacko news reports. These Mom's and Dad's are afraid to let the kids be kids. They carry it a bit too far though.<br />
<br />
I took my Grandson to the park. The park is fenced all around. If you sit on one of the benches in the fenced in area, you can see the whole park. I sat down and let the kid run to the climbing slides and swings. I was glancing at him every so often, but I was sitting near the gate. I figured I would see if someone was going to "steal" him. A woman came over to me and said, "Are you here with a kid?" I looked at her and said, "Oh yes, my grandson, over there", nodding to the area, not 50 feet away. She looked at me in horror as she said, "Aren't you concerned that he might get hurt, or someone may try something with him?" I looked at her in amazement and said, "Are you serious? He's less than 50 feet away. I can hear and see him. He'll be fine". She looked at me and said, "I don't know how you can be so calm?" With that parting shot, she went to hover nearly on top of her kid.<br />
<br />
Come on, enough of this already. Parents need to let their kids get dirty, scraped, bruised and bumped. Kids learn by doing things on their own. They need guidance, not insulation from life. It doesn't do the kid any good to think they will never get hurt if their parents are constantly running interference from the normal kid things that happen when kids are playing. <br />
<br />
The problem as I see it is this: when all these kids go to school they won't know how to play with others without their parents doing their "hovering" thing. I can envision it now as I sit here. The kid will not be "happy" in school because they may not be able to create the same insulated environment their parents have given them since they took their first breaths. The kids I see are all treated like Princes and Princesses, all of them. It's like having all Chiefs and no Indians. That, my friends is a disaster waiting to happen. <br />
<br />
In this country we have lots of boys and girls. Not so in places like China. There, the population of boy children far out weighs the number of girl children. Now imagine a scenario, oh...about 25 years from now. We in this country have lots of Princes and Princesses, but China? They have an enormous number of single boy children who are all Princes, but they don't have the Princesses...Can you imagine what an anthropological, cultural nightmare scenario could happen. Tons of virile men without the calming effect of females, or at least not enough of the females. <br />
<br />
Our Princes and Princesses think their lives will be wonderful, fulfilling and fantastic. They will have expectations of grandeur and excellence. The Chinese Princes will be looking for something to give them the same feelings of expectations of grandeur and excellence, but without the calming influence and feminine spirit of the Princesses. I think this is a recipe for disaster.<br />
<br />
I don't expect to be around when this disaster happens, but I predict it's going to be a doosie. The parents need to teach their kids how to survive in a world where everyone thinks their entitled to the best, the biggest, the brightest and the most and know that everyone else feels the same way. The parents have to let their kids fail, fall, and fight with each other, so the kids are able to pick themselves up, brush off and get on with life. Right now it's not happening around me. I only hope I'm living in an isolated area and others are not "hovering" so much. <br />
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<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-36640308781720472742013-08-05T17:52:00.001-07:002013-08-05T17:52:29.105-07:00Invisibility...Funny how things happen when you're least expecting them. Husband, Larry was bemoaning the fact that as he's aged he's been observing how little he is expected to contribute to society, or at least how little other folks think he<i> has</i> to contribute. If a question arises, it seems as though he's invisible to the folks around him. They don't seek out his opinion or answer to whatever they're questioning. <br />
<br />
I had to laugh, that's what happens to women of a certain age, far younger than the male species. Oh, it happens to them as well, but the males are quite a bit older than the females when they start to become "the invisible men". <br />
<br />
Women as they age change from the "young ladies" to "the Mom's" then there comes a time when they sort of vanish before the eyes of others only to reappear when they become "the Grannies". No kidding, it really happens. <br />
<br />
As women we are tossed together into groups, seemingly all alike. We aren't separated or individualized as a general rule. We're "one of the girls", the "Mommy brigade", the "wives", the "ladies who do lunch", you know what I mean. We aren't expected to be individuals per se. I may be more sensitive to this in my observations but I see it all around me. <br />
<br />
The fact that Larry has noticed a change in his acceptance into society got me thinking about men and why they become "Grumps" as they age. They're pissed off. No longer are they the top banana in the bunch. They too have lost their luster so to speak. There is someone younger who's taken their place in society and they've become transparent. I don't think they're as invisible as we women are but pretty close. <br />
<br />
See for yourself. Go into a store where sales folks are there to wait on customers and observe how long it takes to get served. If there are other people in the store, observe how long it takes for them to get served. I'm betting you'll come to some pretty eye opening conclusions. If you're wearing casual clothing I guarantee it will take longer than if you are dressed more formally. If your hair is white/gray they won't see you unless you have pom poms and start doing a cheer. <br />
<br />
Larry had the invisibility experience himself and was absolutely baffled by it. It didn't occur to him that he may be a victim of "ageism". I told him, "welcome to the world of the invisible". It gets worse.<br />
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For women of a certain age, we start to realize the invisibility age can be an advantage. We can walk around stores and places and listen to conversations and get all kinds of little tidbits of information we would normally never be privy to. That's kind of nice. We can also shop at our leisure, without being harasses by sales folks at every turn. <br />
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I think for men it's more of a slap to their ego. I don't know if they ever get to the point we women get to, where we accept the invisibility cloak when we want it, and raise a ruckus when we need to be heard and seen. I think the man are wont to be stunned and walk away questioning why this has happened to them.<br />
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I had to explain to Larry his experience was <i>every </i>man's experience and of course <i>every </i>woman's as well. We learn to live with it, and what the Hell if we don't, we won't have too long before it won't matter anyway....We're old. <br />
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So if it hasn't happened to you yet, be aware and remember fore warned is fore armed....You'll get used to it, most of us do... <br />
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<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-87743403917329194082013-07-05T17:24:00.000-07:002013-07-05T17:24:10.911-07:00and another thing.....It's hotter than Hell here and everyone is wiping sweat off their brows, complaining about the heat. Mind you, these are the same folks who complained about the snow, ice and cold a few months ago. The problem is, we in Northern New York are not accustomed to hot, humid weather day after day. A couple of days<i> </i>a summer and we can take it, but more than that and we tend to become a bunch of whining brats.<br />
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The grocery store is the place to see the most complaining. People linger by the freezer section making all kinds of excuses to stay there and not make a move to any other part of the store. Consequently you have traffic jams in the aisles. The other shoppers have to wiggle around the people who are pretending to have a reason to stand with the doors of the freezer wide open. I stood there watching one guy as he opened and shut the freezer at least three times... I could tell he was using the door as a fan. I don't blame him, it was really hot, but I wondered how long he was going to be able to do that until someone from the store put a stop to it. <br />
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I walked away from that little action and nearly ran over a lady in the aisle holding Ben and Jerry pints to the side of her head. She looked like she was in ice cream heaven. The other side of the aisle sat a younger woman with two bags of peas on top of her head. It's hot, but it's not that bad, of course we have air conditioning and we're kind of spoiled. <br />
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In years past, up here in Northern New York we were in the minority with our central air. It really was a luxury to have air in the houses. We seldom had prolonged heat and humidity. We could get along with fans and open windows. It's not that way now. When it gets hot here, it stays hot for many days.<br />
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My gardens are overwhelmed with water. In the Spring one of the big oak trees was struck (again) by lightning and it was time to chop it down. The tree grew from a little acorn when we first moved in here in 1968. We've watched the tree grow over the years. It housed tire swings, hammocks, assorted climbing things and it was the climbing tree. The mighty oak was over 30 feet high when it took it's fatal hit from above. The hit could be felt in the house. The sound was like a huge truck hitting a brick wall. We knew that was the last hit the tree could take.<br />
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The tree removal guys came. They looked the tree up and down and decided the best course of action to remove the tree was to climb up to the top, cut off the top, remove branches as they came down. There was no way the tree could be dropped without the prep work. It was too big.<br />
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It was sad to see it go. I stood at my back door and watched the guys de-frock the tree and leave a tall telephone like pole standing. They took down the trunk in sections and as each part was falling to the ground my tears were falling on my cheeks. It's sad to see something that's grown up as yo watched fall to the ground. As each part fell memories flooded my thoughts about all the fun the kids in the neighborhood had with that tree. <br />
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Now the tree is in small pieces in the carport. It will continue to give us pleasure, but this time it will be with heat and ambiance as it burns in the fireplace. I guess that's what life is about ...birth, death and rebirth...and that can mean anything you want it to mean...<br />
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The removal of the tree has opened up that part of the yard to the sun. The result of the new sunny part of the yard is, I have tons of new plants popping their heads out of the ground. The tree had been shading the herb garden, now the herb garden is going nuts with growth and huge plants. Around the garden there are 10' high tiger lilies blooming and an assortment of other flowers that came from somewhere, I didn't plant them but they came anyway. <br />
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So the sun and heat are not all that bad. The heat helps bring new life into the yards The rain feeds all the flowers and plants. We should have a bumper crop of veggies this year with all the rain and sun. We'll see.Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-48043857742476771962013-05-30T17:14:00.000-07:002013-05-30T17:14:43.866-07:00The Curse of the Dark CloudIt's at times like this when I truly believe we all have to have adversity hit us between the eyes a few times in order to get things into perspective. It doesn't have to be life threatening, just annoyances to drive you bonkers.<br />
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This past week has been such a time for us. We don't have much to complain about really, but things happen to annoy us and because we're older we don't cope as well as we used to. We tend to get flustered easy. When that happens, the male of this couple usually goes ballistic. I listen, not happily, to the tirade then I leave. I don't like to be any one's whipping person and least of all my male partner. <br />
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We have had a spate of things happen in the last week which would make any person fly off the handle, and it happened. The initial aggravation happened with my car. It's old. I love it. I don't want to buy a new one. I want this car to live forever. Alas, I know that can't be the case but honestly, does it have to die a little at a time?<br />
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I heard a "thud". I heard the "thud" again. Then it happened for the third time. I decided I better have the "thud" checked out. My mechanic of choice is a guy who is honest and an expert in my particular car. He said to me, "What's wrong?" I told him about the "thud". He looks at me and says, "Did this "thud" happen when you were driving or when you started up the engine?" I told him it seemed to happen whenever it wanted to happen and I didn't really know when it originally started...(I'm of the belief if you ignore "thuds" in the car, sometimes they fix themselves...this one didn't fix itself).<br />
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Into the garage it went...The "thud" was fixed along with the removal of $600.00 from my savings account. One problem solved...<br />
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Driving into the garage, I see my partner in crime waving at me. Now what? I thought. The dehumidifier was running for the first time this season and ran and ran and ran for over 36 hours straight and didn't take out 1 millimeter of water from the air in the basement. <br />
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The male partner started saying words I've only ever heard from drunken sailors or really angry bikers. I'm not sure I knew what the words meant but I could guess. Along with the dirty word tribute to the dehumidifier came some choice words aimed at yours truly. Why? you ask? How the Hell should I know..I think I was the closest thing there that would maybe make some kind of reaction...Who knows? I left the house in my newly non-thuding car.<br />
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I came home several hours later to an empty house, the male partner took of as well, and turned on the dishwasher. It started, then sounded like it was going to blow up. I shut the damned thing off. A little while later I tried it again. No good, not even a groan.<br />
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I went down to the basement to access the damage to the dehumidifier and to see if there was something I could do to get the thing to suck out some water. Nothing...it ran ok but it didn't do anything except run up the electric bill. I did find a customer service number to call.<br />
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Thinking I'd get a run around but I'd try anyway, I called the service number. Amazingly, the response was a real, honest to God person, who spoke English with no accent, well, there was an accent, but it was an accent from Georgia, (the US Georgia, not the Asia Georgia in what was once Russia..you know what I'm talking about). Wonder of wonders, success, I was able to tell my tale of woe, and was referred to another person who stated the company would buy back my dehumidifier for a full refund. Wow, I couldn't believe it.<br />
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The male partner in crime came home still in a snit. I let him stew a bit before telling him the news about the dehumidifier. I figured I deserved the glory a bit longer before sharing it.<br />
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The dishwasher was still in some sort of limbo, but there was no way I was bringing that up at that time. I went out to my car, turned the key and "THUD". <br />
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I looked under the hood of the car and noticed oil drops under the thing. Not a good sign in anybody's book. I came in, called the mechanic, as my male partner in crime glared at me saying, "Jee-sus H. Christ, NOW WHAT?" (I didn't think it was prudent to bring up the dishwasher then either).<br />
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So, the good news is, the dehumidifier will be sort of fixed (buy the purchase of a new one when the check comes), the dishwasher repair folks came and fixed the dishwasher(I finally did tell the other person int he house about the dishwasher), the car goes back to the fix-it shop in the morning, and all will be fine again with the world...except the leather chair in the living room has decided to shed it's outer coating...in a sticky, gummy, and really quite disgusting way...The furniture guy will be calling me back...<br />
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Honest to God....I realize all this crap is inconvenient and not things that are really a big deal, but honestly...I've had enough this year, between deaths, sicknesses and all sorts of mechanical breakdowns I'm yelling, "Uncle, Uncle, Uncle!!".<br />
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<br />Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-56687339213376335272013-05-12T16:42:00.000-07:002013-05-12T16:51:54.617-07:00Cultural Diversity....Upstate vs. Northern vs.Downstate New YorkWe live in "Northern" New York state, not "upstate". Upstate usually refers to folks who live just north of New York City, like Westchester County and the like. We Northerners don't consider "Westchester" north at all.<br />
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When we travel anywhere we're cautious to say, we're from "Northern New York" not Western New York or Upstate New York. We in Northern New York don't like to get clumped into the "upstate" group. There's a good reason for it. We are very different than our lower state neighbors. We are certainly more rural and more like our New England neighbors to the East of us....For crying out loud, I have been know to make left or right turns and end up in Vermont, it's happened more than once, I might add....I have this disability called "directionally challenged". I bet if I wrote a paper for a grant to research this disability I'd get the grant money in no time. <br />
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There are more than geographical differences though, a lot more. We are truly a different culture. We like things to stay simple. We don't like a whole lot of change. And...we don't like people from downstate telling us what's good and what's bad, especially when they come up here to get away from all their things downstate, then decide to tell us how we can make it better up here.<br />
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Most of us, in the North, are loca-vores. You know, we try to eat local, shop locally and buy things from our neighbors and the stores we can go to "downtown". Yes, we have a downtown, and it's vibrant, ask all the folks from downstate who frequent our downtown regularly.<br />
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Here's the rub: I get it that they like this area, we're clean, we're calm and we're alive. But honest we're not dumb. We know what we want and what we don't want. The problem is, some of these folks who regularly come up here think they know what's best for us. Never mind that they thought by coming up here they were getting away from some of the things they hated down there...<br />
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They come up here for all the amenities we can provide, without the craziness they're leaving behind, at least that's what they're thinking. The problem is, they don't seem to realize when they "suggest" to bring in some of the "essential to life" things like Starbucks, Eddie Bauer, Chico's and high rise buildings, they're making the place they came to, to get away from where they were, more like where they came from...<br />
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I know all about progress and continuing to get along with the times and all that hooey, but that's not what most of this is about. It's about money, greed, and taking something away from folks who've lived here for years.<br />
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We were once a small town, small community, small population, that lit up during the Thoroughbred racing season. The craziness of the invasion of the masses would last about 21 days. However, because of greed and money making the season is almost 90 days now. The town almost bursts at the seams with folks from all walks of life. The good, the bad and the ugly...although not so many ugly.....It's a true representation of the haves and the have-nots, most of us being the have-nots and most of them being the haves...or wanna be haves.<br />
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As a general rule most of the downstate folks are very nice. You have certain ones though who can ruin everything in a matter of minutes.<br />
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I used to war a button on my lapel that said, "Ask me I'm local". I don't wear it anymore after some incidents I was involved with, or one of my friends. I took the button off and tossed it into the circular file.<br />
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Wearing the pin, I was walking downtown when a man about my age poked me in the shoulder and said, "Hey! YOU'RE supposed to help me!!" I looked at him and said, "OK, what can I help you with?" He said, "Where the fuck is the place (snapping his fingers.....and tapping his foot) that....you know.....where you get that fucking rotten egg crap water?" I have to tell you I can swear with the best of them, but not to a total stranger who I'm asking for help. We live in a town with lots of mineral springs and some is like "fucking rotten egg crap" water. I tried to figure out which of the springs he wanted to go to when her said, "What the fuck? Why bother with you fucking idiots up here. You're all a bunch of fucking faggots."<br />
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That was my first experience with the cultural diversity of us vs. them....I know I can't generalize but it got better...<br />
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The next incident for me was when I was nearly tackled by a couple of women who were shouting so loud and talking at the same time I couldn't understand what they wanted of me. I asked if one of them would repeat what they were asking, The result of the request was: "Gees what're you deaf or somethin? Why bother." As they walked away.<br />
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After that I decided I would not be going downtown any time soon. I'd wait until the masses of humanity left the town and went back to wherever they were from and leave us alone. I haven't decided if I'll wear the pin this year or not....Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777914849199173741.post-51461328891183215502013-04-20T06:44:00.000-07:002013-04-20T06:44:22.689-07:00Ahhh... SpringtimeAhhhh...Springtime in the suburbs. I arose this morning to the sounds, not of sweet melodic sounds of little birds scurrying around. No, the sounds I heard at my bedroom window were more like a Mack Truck trying to get into the house, and not through the garage. I could hear the banging of something attacking the siding.<br />
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After burying my head under the pillows to get relief from the racket, I finally thought I'd better get up and see what the Hell was going on in suburbia. The side window didn't give me a clue but then the racket started again. Following the noise I discovered several birds, big birds I might add, were trying to determine which of them had the right to the area above my bay window in the living room. Oh yes, there was obviously a discrepancy on who held the lease to the ledge above my window. <br />
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Watching the action from the relative safety of my living room, I could tell I was watching a Springtime ritual, that probably occurred a million times over and few of us get to see the action. <br />
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There were two sets of Robins, at least that's what I thought they were....you know, the ones with the "red breasts" we all learned about as a kid. The ones who herald Springtime after a crummy bunch of months where we all huddle around fires and curse the Gods for all the damned snow that's fallen around us.<br />
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Now, I have to tell you, these birds are pretty tough. I watched as one of the birds swooped down and smacked another of their species in the head. I could see the attacked bird wobble in the air then turn tail and take off, maybe for help, I'm not sure, but I know one thing, the attacker was royally peeved.<br />
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The other Robin (?), must have been the female, although I wouldn't bet on that, was busily making a nest out of "stuff". We've had nests on the top of the window ledge but this one takes the cake. It's a freaking mansion. I don't know if these birds have royal blood lines or not but they seem to think they do. <br />
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The nest goes from one end of the ledge over to the other side. The window is 8' long and the nest is encompassing over 75% of the ledge. To make matters worse, I opened the front door ever so slightly and found the outside door handle was strewn with nesting material. The material, twigs, weeds, fleece and some other stuff I couldn't distinguish, was around the door handle up to the porch light. The light was covered with the weeds and grass. The fleece comes from me, I'm a spinner of yarn and in the Springtime I put fleece scraps outside for the birds to put in the nests....for the babies.....OK, I admit it, I'm a sucker for baby birds, as long as they know their place. <br />
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When I opened the door to step outside I was "yelled' at by the two birds, who, apparently were watching me come out on to my porch. They were not happy. The attack bird, attacked! I made it into the house before getting my eyes pecked out, at the very least, I'm sure. <br />
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The nest seems quiet as I sit here, prisoner in my own house. I beginning to think I may be in a new chapter of "The Birds". I certainly hope not...<br />
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and the bad thing?....we're not paid any rent for the use of our house....something is wrong with that.... <br />
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to be continued......Suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14785302761840097804noreply@blogger.com1