Apparently, the person formerly known as my 'dad' passed away January 10, 2017.
Who knew? [shoulder shrug]
12.30.2018
Just a thought
If some people I work with spent as much time simply allowing me to do my job (and assisted, as they are supposed to), instead of obstructing and scheming, things would run so much more smoothly and efficiently - and there'd be far less 'Peyton Place' drama where it doesn't belong.
Seriously, they really have that much free time to screw over a co-worker, as opposed to doing a better job at accomplishing their own tasks? What the...?
Seriously, they really have that much free time to screw over a co-worker, as opposed to doing a better job at accomplishing their own tasks? What the...?
12.28.2018
A tick in the box
2018 is winding down, but for some reason it feels as though this particular downhill slide to the final midnight is happening at an unusually precipitous rate. Am I alone in this thought?
Well, before I lose all hope of finishing the year with little more to show than clean cat boxes and a full time job, there's a list in my pocket with several things that require doing before the final days and hours evaporate. So, allow me to bid you a fond adieu - at least until I can sit at the keyboard again and regale you with bits and pieces of my daily comings and goings. Shouldn't be long, only a few more boxes to tick.
Merrily yours ~
== ^ . . ^ ==
>^..^<
Well, before I lose all hope of finishing the year with little more to show than clean cat boxes and a full time job, there's a list in my pocket with several things that require doing before the final days and hours evaporate. So, allow me to bid you a fond adieu - at least until I can sit at the keyboard again and regale you with bits and pieces of my daily comings and goings. Shouldn't be long, only a few more boxes to tick.
Merrily yours ~
== ^ . . ^ ==
>^..^<
12.27.2018
Catnapping our way to the end of the year
Thank you, God, for the blessings you've provided, and for the future you have in store for me. Thank You also for the furry blessings in our lives.
The twins' rhythmic breathing has given way to little grunts and snoring - always a smile-maker. Their catnaps have been contagious over the past several days, and since I have been home on vacation days (LOVING not being 'you know where'), I have been 'purr-suaded' on more than one occasion to let the drowsiness carry me away. This decadent lifestyle will be missed when the holidays are over and my vacation time runs out.
Until then, please pardon me while put my head down & close my eyes for just a moment. > ^ _ _ ^ <
12.26.2018
Not a day late, just the day after
Yup, yesterday was Christmas, and I managed to keep from uttering 'the phrase" to all but two people, - so, I feel as though I've achieved almost complete hermit status.
All of my cards made it out of my hands and to their recipients (at least I hope they made it to their destinations), but Karl dragged his feet and missed getting one of his (I say three, he says one) out the door and on the way. Not a bad average
Karl and I each took a turn speaking with mom, but I truly wish she were here - or, at the very least, much closer. it would make visiting easier. I am aware she doesn't want to leave her beloved northern tundra, her moose and deer, and that icy lake, but I think it's time to get her south of the bridge. Much as she dislikes living in the land of the trolls, she should be moving into closer proximity to the bulk of her sibs and kinder - sooner rather than later.
We had dinner at the kids' new home in Holly on Christmas eve; it was fairly low-key, and the meal was delicious.
Just in case you are behind the eight ball, Brian and Angels bought a condo - not too far from their old apartment - and it's a world of difference in size and sounds and smells. Needless to say, the honeymooners are happy in their new digs, and the pets are settled in, too. Bud will need to look a little harder to find work with a decent income in that direction, just to keep from having to drive great distances in his old car, but that was the decision they made.
No complaint here, but an observation: it's been a 'warm' season so far - between Thanksgiving and Christmas - and the weather peeps are calling for more of the same... and warmer! With the bulk of winter ahead of us, I wouldn't mind a bit of this sort of thing lasting the next month or two. Yes, I do prefer cooler temps to warmer ones, but you take what you can get, right?
The twins are doing well: Booker is far more playful again, so hopefully I can get Karl to play along when I am at work and keep Book moving more to rid him of some chunky monkey pounds. Even a Maine Coon can be too large. And Odin is doing better intestinal-ly speaking. He remains rambunctious and Odin-rific, keeping Booker jumping with his spastic antics; and the FiV is well off in the background for the time being.
OK, so I've covered all of the bases for the time being. I was trying to be informative and still keep from being too verbose; practice makes perfect, or so they say. For now, I am going to tidy up a bit, then plunk myself in a chair and sort through some old papers and balance the bank account against the statement! In the background I will binge on The Great British Baking Show, starting at the first episode. Yes, I've seen them all before, but it's enjoyable (tasty) viewing, and well worth a second screening. From there, goodness knows what I'll do, but it will be in the house and not out and about with throngs of people or crazy 'me first' drivers.
Oh, there is one item of note which I didn't go into, but it will keep for the time being.
Blessings to one and all, and safe travels to those on the roads or in the air ~
All of my cards made it out of my hands and to their recipients (at least I hope they made it to their destinations), but Karl dragged his feet and missed getting one of his (I say three, he says one) out the door and on the way. Not a bad average
Karl and I each took a turn speaking with mom, but I truly wish she were here - or, at the very least, much closer. it would make visiting easier. I am aware she doesn't want to leave her beloved northern tundra, her moose and deer, and that icy lake, but I think it's time to get her south of the bridge. Much as she dislikes living in the land of the trolls, she should be moving into closer proximity to the bulk of her sibs and kinder - sooner rather than later.
We had dinner at the kids' new home in Holly on Christmas eve; it was fairly low-key, and the meal was delicious.
Just in case you are behind the eight ball, Brian and Angels bought a condo - not too far from their old apartment - and it's a world of difference in size and sounds and smells. Needless to say, the honeymooners are happy in their new digs, and the pets are settled in, too. Bud will need to look a little harder to find work with a decent income in that direction, just to keep from having to drive great distances in his old car, but that was the decision they made.
No complaint here, but an observation: it's been a 'warm' season so far - between Thanksgiving and Christmas - and the weather peeps are calling for more of the same... and warmer! With the bulk of winter ahead of us, I wouldn't mind a bit of this sort of thing lasting the next month or two. Yes, I do prefer cooler temps to warmer ones, but you take what you can get, right?
The twins are doing well: Booker is far more playful again, so hopefully I can get Karl to play along when I am at work and keep Book moving more to rid him of some chunky monkey pounds. Even a Maine Coon can be too large. And Odin is doing better intestinal-ly speaking. He remains rambunctious and Odin-rific, keeping Booker jumping with his spastic antics; and the FiV is well off in the background for the time being.
OK, so I've covered all of the bases for the time being. I was trying to be informative and still keep from being too verbose; practice makes perfect, or so they say. For now, I am going to tidy up a bit, then plunk myself in a chair and sort through some old papers and balance the bank account against the statement! In the background I will binge on The Great British Baking Show, starting at the first episode. Yes, I've seen them all before, but it's enjoyable (tasty) viewing, and well worth a second screening. From there, goodness knows what I'll do, but it will be in the house and not out and about with throngs of people or crazy 'me first' drivers.
Oh, there is one item of note which I didn't go into, but it will keep for the time being.
Blessings to one and all, and safe travels to those on the roads or in the air ~
12.23.2018
What are you celebrating... and why?
Shouldn't it always be a time of love?
Especially now, when you've saved up all year for this season of joy, your patience and generous spirit should be overflowing, boundless, and capable of a little more tolerance - at the very least.
Especially now, when you've saved up all year for this season of joy, your patience and generous spirit should be overflowing, boundless, and capable of a little more tolerance - at the very least.
Where's the love?
I am having a hard time wrapping my head around why it is people feel the need to be overwhelmingly territorial / hostile / possessive / ready to pick a fight over a simple greeting shared at this time of year?
I'm not understanding why it is that humans are coming unglued over someone's choice to say "happy holidays" or "season's greetings" in place of "merry Christmas." It's not a contest or a challenge. It's not meant to disparage your faith or communal spirit, so WHY take it personally? I really don't get it; what a silly thing to get your ' 'murican' panties in a twist over.
If you feel it's a slap to your Christianity to be greeted in a pleasant and alternate way - other than hearing "merry Christmas" - why not practice the time-honored Jesus method of returning the love and say, "thank you, and to you as well." Heck, even "thank you, and merry Christmas to you," would work.
Do you truly believe a rebuke over civility from one human to another is in order simply because you didn't hear your particular turn of holiday phrase?
Think of it this way: perhaps the person who just offended *your* delicate senses is attempting an overarching greeting so-as not to inadvertently exclude anyone else from enjoying their own festivus train of thought.
Hanukkah.
Kwanzaa.
Boxing Day.
Ōmisoka.
Christmas.
St. Lucia Day
Three Kings Day.
Diwali.
Keep in mind the world is a lot smaller than it used to be, but we are all still one race - the human race. Let's act like that matters.
Peace and joy, people. Peace and joy ~
11.24.2018
A Good Year
Perhaps I should have called it, "A Momentous Year." Or even, "A Year of Grand Change." Oh, there are too many other titles to bestow on this year - always speaking in the familial - but it definitely was a year of accomplishment and change, tumult (the good sort) and beginnings/endings.
At this time of year it is common to concentrate on being thankful, on joyous celebrations of coming together, burying the hatchet, seeing the good in everyone (even if there is none in some folks to see). It is the time folks reflect on the year as it races towards another finish line, and think themselves better off, or better people, or whatever form of improved they care to blind themselves with.
However, under the heading of "my sons," it truly was a year to be thankful for.
Karl graduated from junior college with 2 Associate's, and
Brian married his lovely friend and partner, Angela.
Even I was able to come by a full time job this year ('bout darn time!).
No, I won't spend paragraphs going on and on about any of this. Suffice to say, thank you, God, for all of your love and goodness.
But I will ask: why does it seem as though the majority of us only wait until this time of the year to be thankful for the many blessings which come our way over the course of 365 days? Shouldn't we be more diligent in our thanks, prayers, and praise when the blessings occur? Think about it... then respond appropriately.
With love and gratitude -
At this time of year it is common to concentrate on being thankful, on joyous celebrations of coming together, burying the hatchet, seeing the good in everyone (even if there is none in some folks to see). It is the time folks reflect on the year as it races towards another finish line, and think themselves better off, or better people, or whatever form of improved they care to blind themselves with.
However, under the heading of "my sons," it truly was a year to be thankful for.
Even I was able to come by a full time job this year ('bout darn time!).
No, I won't spend paragraphs going on and on about any of this. Suffice to say, thank you, God, for all of your love and goodness.
But I will ask: why does it seem as though the majority of us only wait until this time of the year to be thankful for the many blessings which come our way over the course of 365 days? Shouldn't we be more diligent in our thanks, prayers, and praise when the blessings occur? Think about it... then respond appropriately.
With love and gratitude -
10.28.2018
Months of discomfort (and healing?)
At some point in time over the late spring my left Achilles tendon separated (up to 80% +), and it has been a long road to recovery. Trying to adjust my walk to allow for the pain, and to keep up with my work requirements, has left me with a rather annoying counter issue with my opposite leg groin muscle... and now, hip-to-knee musculature.
Some days I feel one million years old; as though I am made of stone. When will it end?
Some days I feel one million years old; as though I am made of stone. When will it end?
9.19.2018
Up before the alarm
'Natch.'
Odin had been exhibiting signs of illness, so I took him to our 'regular' vet - the family vet we found at the start of the girls' decline in health as old ladies. The office people were very kind when we had to put down Flop, and then Hobbes - I only wish we had been their client for Cleo's sake. But all of that was eons ago, or so it feels. It stills aches as though that was just last month, and since I am a soft touch, recounting all of it will most likely always move me to tears.
Anyway, the last trip I took to the 'family vet' late spring, found me pleading to have the tri-test repeated on Odin - the test which tells of impending doom (heartworm, FiV, FLv). Upon adopting 'O' we were told that test had been run at the rescue vet office, and that he was free of all three - thank God. After having 'lost' Jake no less than half a year too soon, I was not interested in shattering my still-healing heart again... at least, not right away.
A little history: 'O' was found in a field, frozen to a towel, starving, bald in areas, obviously suffering from fleas, and (as we've been told) stinkier than 5-day old roadkill on a 99*F day. What was scarier was this semi-feral little boy had the imposing 'forearms' of Popeye, 9" nails, and a limited vocabulary consisting of "now," "more," and "%!#&!" The latter we call his cuss word, and he uses it a lot. He was in rough shape.
To complicate his hard-scrabble life even further is the lack of vision in one eye, missing teeth and, as we found out a couple of weeks into life with Odin, a definite digestive issue. In short, 'O' was a hot mess, but he was our hot mess, so we set out to improve his life in every way possible.
Fast-forwarding 1-1/2 years finds Odin thriving and turning into quite the tremendously needy love bug. Neither he nor Booker are lap cats (more's the pity), but they are wonderful lads, and good company nearly any time of the day.
Anyhow...
...several months back, I took Odin to the vet, wondering about getting some answers and fixes to help him feel better for whatever might have been the matter. His breathing seemed 'off' and was growing worse day by day. His poops should have solidified after more than a year on medicated food, too. And the smell from his mouth...what was that?!? But it was his breathing that most concerned me, and mostly because Jake's demise was marked by a similar onset of frequent and worsening respiratory episodes. Could we help 'O'? Oh, how I prayed that we could - and quickly.
Instead of waiting five weeks for the first non-emergency appointment with our usual vet, I called the local Humane Society and asked if I could get Odin in to be seen any sooner. Due to my new daughter-in-law working there, 'O' was moved up on the list quickly, and in no time we were in the office and speaking with a doctor. X-rays were taken, blood was drawn - and most importantly, they listened to my request for having a repeat on the tri-test.
It wasn't a long wait before the doctor was informing me of the positive results for feline immunodeficiency virus (FiV = kitty aids). My heart sank. The x-rays revealed no mass of any sort on Odin's airway or lungs, so the respiratory distress was all due to the FiV.
He was prescribed a rather strong antibiotic, which made a huge improvement in his breathing in no time, and knocked out the oral/nasal infection in nothing flat. Also, 'O's' lost another tooth since then, but everything else seems to be at bay - and so we take it day by day. On the other hand, the antibiotic created a new problem in the form of colitis, and now Odin wakes with a scream and a start, having to poo immediately. This is bad news for sleeping through the night and for the rug in my bedroom, but it's all doable because it means we have a little more time with our sweet diminutive weirdo. For a good couple of weeks I'd been awakened way before the alarm - sometimes two-to-three times per night. Happily, these instances have all but subsided.
Ultimately, my wish is not to trade one set of problems for another. I don't want to keep the respiratory infections at bay at the cost of Odin feeling crampy and suffering from unpredictable diarrhea - that just wouldn't be fair... or kind. Therefore, we will watch and listen to and care for Odin with every ounce of love and attention we can muster, until he tells us the time has finally come. 'Natch.'
Recently, Odin was started on a new prescriptive food, and seems alright with it. While it took some time to get him weaned from the first prescriptive to this new one, I can finally say he is eating most of his meals each day - and that is a blessing. The abrupt screaming poos are winding down, although I must remain on guard when he begins to cry incessantly, and wander from place to place. Karl is not as attentive during the day while I am at work, so there have been many days when I've arrived home to find a secret, stinky gift from Odin laying in wait for me in front of my closet.
Oh, 'O'! I love you, love you, love you.
Odin had been exhibiting signs of illness, so I took him to our 'regular' vet - the family vet we found at the start of the girls' decline in health as old ladies. The office people were very kind when we had to put down Flop, and then Hobbes - I only wish we had been their client for Cleo's sake. But all of that was eons ago, or so it feels. It stills aches as though that was just last month, and since I am a soft touch, recounting all of it will most likely always move me to tears.
Anyway, the last trip I took to the 'family vet' late spring, found me pleading to have the tri-test repeated on Odin - the test which tells of impending doom (heartworm, FiV, FLv). Upon adopting 'O' we were told that test had been run at the rescue vet office, and that he was free of all three - thank God. After having 'lost' Jake no less than half a year too soon, I was not interested in shattering my still-healing heart again... at least, not right away.
A little history: 'O' was found in a field, frozen to a towel, starving, bald in areas, obviously suffering from fleas, and (as we've been told) stinkier than 5-day old roadkill on a 99*F day. What was scarier was this semi-feral little boy had the imposing 'forearms' of Popeye, 9" nails, and a limited vocabulary consisting of "now," "more," and "%!#&!" The latter we call his cuss word, and he uses it a lot. He was in rough shape.
To complicate his hard-scrabble life even further is the lack of vision in one eye, missing teeth and, as we found out a couple of weeks into life with Odin, a definite digestive issue. In short, 'O' was a hot mess, but he was our hot mess, so we set out to improve his life in every way possible.
Fast-forwarding 1-1/2 years finds Odin thriving and turning into quite the tremendously needy love bug. Neither he nor Booker are lap cats (more's the pity), but they are wonderful lads, and good company nearly any time of the day.
Anyhow...
...several months back, I took Odin to the vet, wondering about getting some answers and fixes to help him feel better for whatever might have been the matter. His breathing seemed 'off' and was growing worse day by day. His poops should have solidified after more than a year on medicated food, too. And the smell from his mouth...what was that?!? But it was his breathing that most concerned me, and mostly because Jake's demise was marked by a similar onset of frequent and worsening respiratory episodes. Could we help 'O'? Oh, how I prayed that we could - and quickly.
Instead of waiting five weeks for the first non-emergency appointment with our usual vet, I called the local Humane Society and asked if I could get Odin in to be seen any sooner. Due to my new daughter-in-law working there, 'O' was moved up on the list quickly, and in no time we were in the office and speaking with a doctor. X-rays were taken, blood was drawn - and most importantly, they listened to my request for having a repeat on the tri-test.
It wasn't a long wait before the doctor was informing me of the positive results for feline immunodeficiency virus (FiV = kitty aids). My heart sank. The x-rays revealed no mass of any sort on Odin's airway or lungs, so the respiratory distress was all due to the FiV.
He was prescribed a rather strong antibiotic, which made a huge improvement in his breathing in no time, and knocked out the oral/nasal infection in nothing flat. Also, 'O's' lost another tooth since then, but everything else seems to be at bay - and so we take it day by day. On the other hand, the antibiotic created a new problem in the form of colitis, and now Odin wakes with a scream and a start, having to poo immediately. This is bad news for sleeping through the night and for the rug in my bedroom, but it's all doable because it means we have a little more time with our sweet diminutive weirdo. For a good couple of weeks I'd been awakened way before the alarm - sometimes two-to-three times per night. Happily, these instances have all but subsided.
Ultimately, my wish is not to trade one set of problems for another. I don't want to keep the respiratory infections at bay at the cost of Odin feeling crampy and suffering from unpredictable diarrhea - that just wouldn't be fair... or kind. Therefore, we will watch and listen to and care for Odin with every ounce of love and attention we can muster, until he tells us the time has finally come. 'Natch.'
Recently, Odin was started on a new prescriptive food, and seems alright with it. While it took some time to get him weaned from the first prescriptive to this new one, I can finally say he is eating most of his meals each day - and that is a blessing. The abrupt screaming poos are winding down, although I must remain on guard when he begins to cry incessantly, and wander from place to place. Karl is not as attentive during the day while I am at work, so there have been many days when I've arrived home to find a secret, stinky gift from Odin laying in wait for me in front of my closet.
Oh, 'O'! I love you, love you, love you.
9.18.2018
Life as you know it, or life as you make it?
I have lately been absent from doing one of the things I absolutely love to do. In fact, I've been so delinquent in taking part in one of my most favorite activities that you might think I'd given it up completely.
Well, no, I haven't. I haven't given anything up, but I think I have nearly - almost completely - given up on... myself.
Can I trouble you for a moment to truly cogitate over that last line. Really read the words and ponder over the differences between the first and second pieces of that statement. You might think that that's a difference without distinction - or you may even believe there to be no difference at all - but you know you would be wrong.
Yep, dead wrong.
In fact, I had almost convinced myself that my writing didn't matter to anyone else, so I needn't waste my time to communicate my thoughts or feelings, my musings or daily highlights, my opinions and aspirations, my successes and disappointments. Myself. My words. I am lost without my words. I am no one and nowhere without my words.
So whether anyone else reads them, whether I am communicating with the silence of the stars or flecks of dust in the sunshine, or somehow, amazingly with another human, I will write - and the words will be mine. And if I am doing little more than saving my thoughts for myself to read years from now, so that I might remember that I did ultimately survive a horribly defeating time in my life, well then, that's enough of a reason for speaking my piece.
My words; I may couch them at times, or I may brazenly lay it all on the line. However the spirit moves me or the winds carry me day by day, I am entitled to express myself. Mainly, I will speak my mind and empty my heart, because to to be less than I am, to say less than I am able, to slip into silent corners and molder away is not really my style. It shouldn't be anyone's style. I should never have allowed myself to become less than I was meant to be.
I am a child of the most high God, and I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
I am back, and I will not be silenced. No telling how often or infrequently, but there will be words.
Well, no, I haven't. I haven't given anything up, but I think I have nearly - almost completely - given up on... myself.
Can I trouble you for a moment to truly cogitate over that last line. Really read the words and ponder over the differences between the first and second pieces of that statement. You might think that that's a difference without distinction - or you may even believe there to be no difference at all - but you know you would be wrong.
Yep, dead wrong.
In fact, I had almost convinced myself that my writing didn't matter to anyone else, so I needn't waste my time to communicate my thoughts or feelings, my musings or daily highlights, my opinions and aspirations, my successes and disappointments. Myself. My words. I am lost without my words. I am no one and nowhere without my words.
So whether anyone else reads them, whether I am communicating with the silence of the stars or flecks of dust in the sunshine, or somehow, amazingly with another human, I will write - and the words will be mine. And if I am doing little more than saving my thoughts for myself to read years from now, so that I might remember that I did ultimately survive a horribly defeating time in my life, well then, that's enough of a reason for speaking my piece.
My words; I may couch them at times, or I may brazenly lay it all on the line. However the spirit moves me or the winds carry me day by day, I am entitled to express myself. Mainly, I will speak my mind and empty my heart, because to to be less than I am, to say less than I am able, to slip into silent corners and molder away is not really my style. It shouldn't be anyone's style. I should never have allowed myself to become less than I was meant to be.
I am a child of the most high God, and I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
I am back, and I will not be silenced. No telling how often or infrequently, but there will be words.
5.12.2018
Salute to my mom
Shot a good number of photos at breakfast following the shower; and here are three important people being silly at the table.
Really...I can't take them anywhere.
Happy Mother's Day - I love you.
Really...I can't take them anywhere.
Happy Mother's Day - I love you.
5.07.2018
Happy Birthday to Maria!
Oh, of course I totally forgot to drop your card in the mail - even though I bought it months ago. [smacking my forehead] It was perfect, perfect, perfect, just like you - and still is - and made me think of you when I read it.
I put it away, kept it safe, and then promptly lost track of time.
No excuses, just me being me. I love you no less, and think of you often. Hope you are well, improving and healthy, and have no setbacks or sadness.
Be happy, beautiful friend, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
I put it away, kept it safe, and then promptly lost track of time.
No excuses, just me being me. I love you no less, and think of you often. Hope you are well, improving and healthy, and have no setbacks or sadness.
Be happy, beautiful friend, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
5.05.2018
My thoughts are all over the place
I have to find a way to be as wise and capable of utilizing and filling the hours of my off time and weekends as I am at managing the hours at work. What's up with that, anyway?
The last several months have been filled with so much activity and expectation and impending milestones, that I scarcely begin to concentrate on the first item when I realize I am nowhere near ready for the next one. And then....WHAM! The first event arrives and passes in such a rush, it's like watching a speeding train slam pass as you stand inches away on the platform - feeling the heady gust of tumultuous breeze in its wake.
At first you are knocked back a bit, but then the momentum of the tidal air catches you up and drags your clothing, your hair, your possessions along with the train's inertia. It's irresistible in its force; the excitement, the speed, the unknown, the hopes, the dreams...
...and then it's gone.
It wasn't your joyous moment; you're just sharing it with the owners - or rather, they were just sharing it with you. But that doesn't matter, because the need for adding happiness into your life in any way possible is a larger impetus than the actuality of simply being a bystander in your own everyday world, and hoping to find a little joy of your own here and there.
This year has been/is going to be such a succession of happiness and life changes for my family - oh, and for friends near and far, too (but never far from my heart). 2018 seems consumed with improvement and joy - and it's about time, too. So come on, bullet train! Speed through and make our lives better. Stir up a wake of indescribable happiness and change. The happiness will be a nice change.
That said, here's me, trying to find ways to induce myself to become more reactive; to be a person of action on my own behalf. Here's me hoping to make change and improvements an everyday occurrence and not just something borne out of an immediate need. Instead of lazily spending my weekends in a relaxed mode, I need to make myself more of a doer (not an overachiever, per se), more of a go-getter and a 'get-er-done-er' for my own benefit.
Wish me luck - or come give me a kick in the butt. Either would be welcomed and gratefully accepted.
The last several months have been filled with so much activity and expectation and impending milestones, that I scarcely begin to concentrate on the first item when I realize I am nowhere near ready for the next one. And then....WHAM! The first event arrives and passes in such a rush, it's like watching a speeding train slam pass as you stand inches away on the platform - feeling the heady gust of tumultuous breeze in its wake.
At first you are knocked back a bit, but then the momentum of the tidal air catches you up and drags your clothing, your hair, your possessions along with the train's inertia. It's irresistible in its force; the excitement, the speed, the unknown, the hopes, the dreams...
...and then it's gone.
It wasn't your joyous moment; you're just sharing it with the owners - or rather, they were just sharing it with you. But that doesn't matter, because the need for adding happiness into your life in any way possible is a larger impetus than the actuality of simply being a bystander in your own everyday world, and hoping to find a little joy of your own here and there.
This year has been/is going to be such a succession of happiness and life changes for my family - oh, and for friends near and far, too (but never far from my heart). 2018 seems consumed with improvement and joy - and it's about time, too. So come on, bullet train! Speed through and make our lives better. Stir up a wake of indescribable happiness and change. The happiness will be a nice change.
That said, here's me, trying to find ways to induce myself to become more reactive; to be a person of action on my own behalf. Here's me hoping to make change and improvements an everyday occurrence and not just something borne out of an immediate need. Instead of lazily spending my weekends in a relaxed mode, I need to make myself more of a doer (not an overachiever, per se), more of a go-getter and a 'get-er-done-er' for my own benefit.
Wish me luck - or come give me a kick in the butt. Either would be welcomed and gratefully accepted.
2.11.2018
Wow, it's already 9AM
Some days drag on, right from the very moment your cats wake you up. Then there are those days that whip right past you, as though you put the viewer on fast forward and can't find the pause button.
It was a short few weeks ago that I had an interview for a full time position as a "Quality Administrator" (A.K.A. "Quality Technician"... or, "Quality Analyst"). I heard quickly after the interview (from the staffing agency who sought me out) that I had the job - "if I wanted it."
IF I WANTED IT!?!? IF??
Why wouldn't I want it?
Oh...well, they found me over-qualified and feared I had moved on in the time it took them to weed out, and slog through, the last of their interviewees. They presumed I would not (with my over-qualifications) want a position for the contractor rate they were offering. Why would I stoop to it?
I reasoned that the contracted amount would increase once I served my 90 days and was brought onboard as a true and permanent employee. I added that it was a full time position - far superior to the part time gig with the county - and that it exceeded my wildest dreams, following my terrible drought. It was a chance to practice my skills as a detail-minded team player - in an office, no less!
It was a full time job,
with a future,
that offered benefits and real money,
and a chance to do more than survive,
and would give my mother a break.
Thank you, YES, I would love to accept your job.
Thank you so much for this chance.
God is great.
It's taking longer than I thought to acclimate to the work/home thing after so long out of it. The job is also more physical than I would have thought, but that's a great thing. I enjoy the people, and I am learning a lot about the different processes and areas within the distribution center and it's small production area. There is much to learn, but I am up to the challenge!
More about it all another time, for now I simply wanted to update those who are keeping an eye on the employment status.
It was a short few weeks ago that I had an interview for a full time position as a "Quality Administrator" (A.K.A. "Quality Technician"... or, "Quality Analyst"). I heard quickly after the interview (from the staffing agency who sought me out) that I had the job - "if I wanted it."
IF I WANTED IT!?!? IF??
Why wouldn't I want it?
Oh...well, they found me over-qualified and feared I had moved on in the time it took them to weed out, and slog through, the last of their interviewees. They presumed I would not (with my over-qualifications) want a position for the contractor rate they were offering. Why would I stoop to it?
I reasoned that the contracted amount would increase once I served my 90 days and was brought onboard as a true and permanent employee. I added that it was a full time position - far superior to the part time gig with the county - and that it exceeded my wildest dreams, following my terrible drought. It was a chance to practice my skills as a detail-minded team player - in an office, no less!
It was a full time job,
with a future,
that offered benefits and real money,
and a chance to do more than survive,
and would give my mother a break.
Thank you, YES, I would love to accept your job.
Thank you so much for this chance.
God is great.
It's taking longer than I thought to acclimate to the work/home thing after so long out of it. The job is also more physical than I would have thought, but that's a great thing. I enjoy the people, and I am learning a lot about the different processes and areas within the distribution center and it's small production area. There is much to learn, but I am up to the challenge!
More about it all another time, for now I simply wanted to update those who are keeping an eye on the employment status.
1.01.2018
Really, 2018?
Not guilty! I did NOT say - or even think - "what else can happen?" Did NOT say or think, "it can't get any worse/how bad can it get?"
I let 2017 wimper on out and ignored the midnight tolling of the bells. And this is the thanks I get.
We are going visiting today, and I asked Karl to jump into the shower while I punched down the bread dough and parsed it into the baking pans for its second rise. I had a load of laundry going and was feeling pretty content.
I heard the sound of water, but it didn't register that the sound was a bit out of the ordinary for the washer (downstairs). Nope, I chalked it up to Karl in the tub. (yea - no arguments or demanding or repeating myself for a change).
Then Karl breezed by and headed to the lower level to check on the wash - thinking he would take it out of the washer and get it into the dryer, in hopes of wearing one of the dress shirts in the load. This day was getting better and better.
Then Karl yelled up to me, "Is the floor supposed to be wet?"
Nope, oddly enough, it isn't supposed to be wet.
How fast do you think I flew downstairs?
It looks as though the pipe that the washer drains into froze... that is to say, whatever standing water was in it from the last wash before this extreme cold snap. The sound I heard and did not identify was that of the water splashing about at high pressure and fanning out on the wood floor and soaking into the insulation underneath. At least, I am HOPING the drain pipe is the issue.
Damn it!
Well, at least the bread smells good in the oven.
I let 2017 wimper on out and ignored the midnight tolling of the bells. And this is the thanks I get.
We are going visiting today, and I asked Karl to jump into the shower while I punched down the bread dough and parsed it into the baking pans for its second rise. I had a load of laundry going and was feeling pretty content.
I heard the sound of water, but it didn't register that the sound was a bit out of the ordinary for the washer (downstairs). Nope, I chalked it up to Karl in the tub. (yea - no arguments or demanding or repeating myself for a change).
Then Karl breezed by and headed to the lower level to check on the wash - thinking he would take it out of the washer and get it into the dryer, in hopes of wearing one of the dress shirts in the load. This day was getting better and better.
Then Karl yelled up to me, "Is the floor supposed to be wet?"
Nope, oddly enough, it isn't supposed to be wet.
How fast do you think I flew downstairs?
It looks as though the pipe that the washer drains into froze... that is to say, whatever standing water was in it from the last wash before this extreme cold snap. The sound I heard and did not identify was that of the water splashing about at high pressure and fanning out on the wood floor and soaking into the insulation underneath. At least, I am HOPING the drain pipe is the issue.
Damn it!
Well, at least the bread smells good in the oven.
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