Auld lang syne

In case you hadn't noticed, this is the last day of 2008. I hope it's been a good year for you and that 2009 is even better.

If you're rockin' at a party or watching Dick Clark's Rocking New Year's Eve, you'll probably be singing Auld Lang Syne. This old Scottish song is usually attributed to Robert Burns, but actually it pre-dates him. It's just that he wrote it down and put his own twist on the lyrics.

Like most of us you probably don't really know the words, or what they mean. You can translate 'auld lang syne' as 'times gone by', 'days gone by', 'the good old days', or what ever you want it to be that's relevant to saying goodby to the old year, and hello to the new.

In case you forgot the words, here they are.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne.

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

Happy New Year!

Wuses

I work with some of the biggest whinners in the world. I worked as a nurse for 20 years and I hear more about my co-workers physical complaints on a daily basis than I heard from my patients.

Take today, for example. There were only 3 of them in the office. Two of them didn't sleep well and are sooooooo tired. One of them injured her thumb during the ice-over of the 23rd. She won't go to the doctor, nor wear an ace bandage, but she sure can complain about it. One of them went home after lunch because he was "sick". One of them has a son with diarrhea so she had to work from home yesterday.

And they all went home early.

Some days are golden

Christmas day was beautiful here. It was cold, but not "freeze the snot in your nose cold", and the sun was shining all day.

The news reporters on television kept talking about the bad weather all across the nation. I didn't know whether to feel sorry for everyone else, or smug because I had sunshine and they didn't.

Truthfully, I wanted to feel smug, but it was Christmas day so I tried to be sympathetic.

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

And the angel said unto them,

Fear not: for, behold,

I bring you good tidings of great joy,

which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born

this day in the city of David

a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
Luke 2:10 – 11

Merry Christmas

MAY GOD BLESS YOU AND YOURS!

Free Website Tools and Clipart

Boondoggle!

Congress has been passing out tax money like it was penny candy.

Recently billions of dollars was earmarked to bailout banks and financial instituitions. Now if any company should know how to handle money it should be a company whose business is handling money. I mean handle it responsibly, not just play with it.

Yesterday an Associated Press story revealed that bank executives got billions of dollars in bonuses and incentives last year and then asked the taxpayer to pay for them. Read the story on MSNBC . Some banks cut executive salaries but still doled out multi-million dollar bonus packages.

If you screwed up as badly as these company leaders did, you'd expect to get fired.

This morning the Associated Press released another story story that 21 banks refused to say how and where they were spending our tax money. Some of them claimed they just didn't know. Duh, maybe this is why they needed to ask for a handout in the first place?

MAYBE CONGRESS SHOULDN'T HAVE HANDED THEM OUR MONEY WITHOUT DEMANDING ACCOUNTABILITY?

Book review.

I am reading a book called The Lost Tomb that I bought for my trip back in October. I've been reading it for at least a month and I've finished a couple of other books during that time. It's one of those books that's almost interesting, almost compelling, but not quite.

It has pages, after excruciating pages, of obscure historical accounts that I'm skipping while I search for the action sentences that will move the plot forward. They seem to be few and far between. And they seem to be the same scenes, same activity, just different locales. Occasionally, a new character will join the party, but mostly just to give more history lectures.

The thing that annoys me most is that all the characters murmur, all the time. The author can't write "she exclaimed", "he whispered". No, it has to be "she murmured", "he murmurmed". One time they murmured three times on one page. One time somebody "murmured excitedly" - I don't think you can do that.

I've got less than 100 pages to go and I'm trying valiantly to finish. "Why?", you may well ask. Because I paid $6.99 for the book, that's why.

Blackberry Winter Re-Visited

I knew I had heard the term "blackberry winter" but I couldn't remember what it was so I Googled it. Just in case you want to know, it's a southern phrase referring to a brief cold spell that occurs when the blackberries are blooming (about mid-May).

It's about 20 degrees outside my front door right now and I'm wondering just how cold can it get in the south in mid-May? What are they considering a "cold spell"? 50's? 60's? Wimps!

Blackberry Winter

I bought fresh blackberries for 99 cents a package at the supermarket this weekend. They were beautiful black jewels. Large, plump, shiny, unblemished. A delight to behold.

They had no taste what so ever.

I should have known better. I'm rather picky about the fresh fruits and vegetables I buy at a grocery store. Too often they either have little taste or a weird taste. They don't have any scent or they smell like chemicals.

The blackberries made me wonder if people in the future will have any idea what good fresh food is supposed to taste like, to smell like. Will they be satisfied with unyielding, carboard-textured, scentless, tasteless foods because they don't know any better?

Sometimes it's good to be an old lady and to know things the young can only imagine.

A little of this, a little of that

I saw a flock of robins on the way home yesterday. I don't know if they were coming or going so I don't know if they were early or late. All I know is they'd better head south or risk freezing their little tail feathers.

Last night I had a dream we were buying beef roasts in a vending machine at the bank. Not cooked beef, but raw roasts like you'd buy at the grocery store. I don't know if this was a commentary on the price of beef, or something I ate for supper.

I'm working on a training presentation for my co-workers for an application I haven't used much. I've been provided with training activities that were created by our company's "professional trainer", but I'm confused. I have one set of activities that's for everybody to use and I have one for advanced users. The only difference I can find is that one for everybody is 5 pages and the one for advanced user is 6 pages - but the 6th page is blank. That's the Dumass company for you.

A night for socks

When I got home from work today my furnace wasn't working. It was only 66 degrees in here, but it could have been worse. Sunday the low was 8 degrees and today it didn't get below freezing and the temperature outside was at least 50. Anyway, it was too late to call for repairs so I "rebooted" the furnace.

Similar to the way you reboot a computer, I turned it off, flipped the breakers, waited an hour, and turned it back on. And it worked. Keep your fingers crossed that it doesn't go out in the middle of the night.

On my way home the traffic light about a mile from here wasn't working and it rained heavily most of the night and day and I have a feeling we had some kind of electrical problem in the neighborhood though I couldn't find any clocks in the place that needed to be re-set.

I got to thinking. How many other things would benefit from being rebooted? Relationships? Diets? Jobs? Morals? Dreams?

Think about it.

A loaf of bread

I made bread this weekend. Not from a mix. Not from a refrigerated tube. Not in a breadmaker.

I made pumpkin bread with cream cheese filling and I made herb bread. They're edible but not prize winning, though I did notice that the house smelled pleasantly of pumpkin bread when I got home this evening.

I don't make bread very often anymore. When I was younger, and skinnier, I made homemade bread at least once a week. As my bread consumption went down, my weight went up. Just saying.

I learned several things doing the bread making process this weekend. Not the least of which was:

1. Pumpkin bread tastes better on the second day.
2. I have two sizes of bread pans - too small and too large.
3. I should make bread more often before I forget how it's done.

Weeeeeeeeeeee

I recently bought myself a Wii. It's suppose to be good for old people. Gives them a way to get exercise in the security of their own homes.

Just walking around the box it came in is more exercise than I usually get.

A negative thing about the Wii is that like most toys today, you can't just get a Wii and be set. You have to buy accessories and additional games. Like it was a kid. The Wii Fit is hot right now. The reviews claim it makes exercising fun and motivates you to exercise daily.

Unless you're lucky, about the only exercise you can get from Wii Fit is if you go shopping every day and search the stores for it. It's almost impossible to find at a retail store or on-line, but eBay always seems to have plenty. Do you find that a tad suspicious? At least you can exercise your mind trying to figure out why.

Anyway instead of Wii Fit, I bought the game set Active Life: Outdoor Challenge.

I prefer to call it by it's real name "Are you trying to kill yourself, you crazy old woman?"

I got tired just reading the instructions and almost caused myself bodily injury trying to figure out how I was supposed to jump in the air with both feet while simultaneously touching one hand to the floor in a parody of snowboarding.

You want me to get that on film, don't you?

Trust me - it ain't gonna happen.

The Pumpkin

By J. G. Whittier

Ah! On Thanksgiving Day, when from East and from West,

From North and from South come the pilgrim and guest,

When the gray-haired New Englander sees round his board

The old broken links of affection restored,

When the care-wearied man seeks his mother once more,

And the worn matron smiles where the girl smiled before,

What moistens the lip, and what brightens the eye?

What calls back the past, like the rich pumpkin pie?

O, fruit loved of boyhood! the old days recalling;

When wood-grapes were purpling and brown nuts were falling!

When wild, ugly faces were carved in its skin,

Glaring out through the dark with a candle within!

When we laughed round the corn heap, with hearts all in tune,

Our chair a broad pumpkin, our lantern the moon,

Telling tales of the fairy who traveled like steam

In a pumpkin-shell coach, with two rats for her team!

Then, thanks for thy present! - none sweeter or better

E'er smoked from an oven or circled a platter!

Fairer hands never wrought at a pastry more fine,

Brighter eyes never watched o'er its baking than thine!

And the prayer, which my mouth is too full to express,

Swells my heart that thy shadow may never be less,

That the days of thy lot may be lengthened below,

And the fame of thy worth like a pumpkin-vine grow,

And thy life be as sweet, and its last sunset sky

Gold-tinted and fair as thine own pumpkin-pie!

Computer problems

I've been having a lot of problems with my computer at the Dumass company where I work. I'm using a spare computer till after Thanksgiving because dealing with the IT helpdesk is too stressful and I'll use any excuse to put it off.

I'm not sure what IT stands for. "Information Techology"? "IT's not my problem and I can't help you if you if I don't want to"?

We have two pages of "Help Desk" numbers to call for different things, but there's nothing that tells us who to call for what.

I'm not sure what "Help Desk" stands for. It's not "Call us if you need help". It might be "Call us for a headache".

I've lost a lot of respect for computer techs since I started working at the Dumass company.

Wednesday we had new software automatically installed on our computers.

• Some of us got a notice that the computer would reboot in 30 minutes after the installation if we didn't reboot it ourselves.


• Some of us probably got the same message but ignored it because we were so annoyed at having to work around the large popup box while the installation was in progress. But maybe not.


• The clerk was in the middle of a 3 hour download when she got the message so she stopped the download and re-started the computer herself. Two minutes late the computer ignored her reboot and did it again.


• One of the guys was 10 minutes into a demonstration by an external vendor when his computer rebooted itself and he missed a half hour of important training.


• One of the girls said her computer restarted itself and she didn't know why till she talked to us.


• My computer just went to a blank white screen and stayed that way for 5 - 10 minutes. I had no access to anything so I had no choice but to turn the computer off and re-start. The spare computer I'm using takes 40 - 60 minutes to start up and a half-hour after that our supervisor sent us home early.

One nice thing about the Dumass company - you get paid whether you work or not.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Our local TV news this morning had a guest extolling the virtues of being thankful. He reported that those who are most thankful will live longer, happier, and healthier lives.

I wonder if he considered that living longer, happier, and healthier might just go along with having a lot to be thankful for?

Frankly, I think the host and guest had been celebrating early as they were way too happy for 7:30 in the morning. I don't appreciate the sound of men giggling inanly annoying at any time of the day, but early in the morning is just plain irritating.

Yes, I'm a complainer. Just a grumpy old lady that can always find something to complain about no matter the occassion.

I didn't used to be that way. I was known for my even temperment, my polyanna attitude, my ability to see both sides of the moon.

What happened? Chicken squat, that's what. Too much crap. Instead of developing a higher crap tolerance as I grew older, I met the level of tolerance and can't stand anymore.

To get back to the virtues of being thankful. Just because I'm cranky doesn't mean that I'm not thankful.

1. I'm thankful I have enough to eat. I just wish it didn't stay around so long. (You know - stay around my middle, my hips, my thighs.)


2. I'm thankful I have a warm place to stay. I just wish it wasn't so little or so drafty or so messy.


3. I'm thankful I have a job that pays my bills. Too bad it's with the Dumass company.



4. I'm thankful I can still see to read. It would be nice to still be able to see to drive at night, but I'm old, I shouldn't be out at night anyway.


5. I'm thankful I'm me. Other people are so annoying.

It's Not Winter Yet So Quit Your Complaining

The sun is shining and shining brightly! That makes up for it being 14 degrees out there. I can say that since I'm in here with the furnace making it closer to 70 degrees. I'm not sure I'd feel that way if I had to walk further than from my front door to the car.

The Sun Shines East

The sun shines west,
But it's not shining here in the midwest.

I have had a sense of impending doom for the past two days. I don't know if it's my natural pessimistic disposition or a manifestation of SAD, Seasonal Affective Disorder, from which I suffer every November.

Much like a hot-house flower, I need light and heat and both are in short supply in Indiana in November when I need them most. It has been rainy and/or cloudy for two weeks now. We had one brief shot of sunshine yesterday afternoon. Not a large enough dose to be an effective treatment for SAD.

The heating system in our office has not been working well and for most of November the temperature has hovered just below 70 degrees. That's only 1 or 2 degrees below comfortable, but enough to aggravate my disorder.

My father suffered from SAD too. He treated his condition by wearing long underwear.

I might give them a try. What do you think of this pair from Frank Dandy?

I think they could provide light and warmth.

Shopping around

There is a trend here in the mid-west to build "open air" shopping malls. The idea, as I understand it, is to build an area that resembles a little village, and they often come complete with hotels and condominiums and their own little suburb.

There have been three built in my area lately and I can't help but think, "Why?" This is the Midwest, where it's hot in the summer, cold in the winter, wont to rain or snow in either season, and the November and March winds whip under your heaviest coat to chill the marrow in your bones.

I went to the newest of these malls yesterday for the first time. I didn't appreciate its unique style.

In the first place it was built out in the country. I suppose land was cheaper there and as this is a rapidly growing area, it probable won't be in the country for long.

Once I found it (and that wasn't easy), I entered the center and drove around a little bit. The first thing I noticed was that there didn't seem to be a lot of traffic. Which was a good thing, because the streets were a little confusing. They weren't laid out in straight grids so I had to pay attention to where I was going, when I stopped and yielded, and watch the rest of the traffic while I scoping out the stores. It didn't help any that it was raining and gloomy.

I went down what I think was the the main street and around a traffic island (which this county will install anywhere - they even have one in the Lowes' parking lot). This led me to what may have been the main shopping area. It did resemble the main street of a thriving small town (minus the business offices). One could park on the street here, in front of the stores, head-in parking. There weren't many spaces available.

I drove down that street, turned left and saw a J C Penny store in the not-too-far distance, but some what off to itself. Before I got there, I meandered off in the other direction to see what else was around, and I found myself at a stop sign. If I turned right I would be at a stop light leaving the center. I tried to figure out if I could turn left onto the second lane or if it was a four lane street and I'd have to go to the third and fourth lanes over, but I was confused by a car in the third lane that was backing up. I looked around a little and when I looked back the car was going forward but in the same lane so I was even more confused. You'd have to see the street(s) to see my dilema - the lanes didn't exactly run parallel like most 4 lane roads. Eventually I went out at the stop light and came back in at the next one. It seemed safest. At least no one was backing up and turning around in the middle of the street.

I stopped at the Borders bookstore because there was more-or-less convenient parking there, and because I haven't been to the one near me since they moved it about a year ago and they've been sending me emails with the heading "We miss you!" (Honest, I'm not making that up.) It was a large bookstore, set up to maximize walking, full of artfully arranged displays and bookshelves that produced an over abundance of corners and curves. They had too many salespeople and not enough customers. Every time I turned a corner, someone would pop up and ask "May I help you find anything?" Frankly, it became as annoying as the emails. I got tired of them and of getting lost in the store so I left without buying anything. (Yes, I left a bookstore without buying a book.)

I walked down to the corner where the "village main street" was and tried to see if the other store I wanted to visit was close. The store signs were on the front of the stores so I couldn't see them. It was rainy and cold and I hadn't eaten breakfast and the whole thing had lost what little alure it had for an old lady. So I left.

I'm old enough to remember when covered shopping malls became poplular. In most small towns, shoppers deserted the downtown stores and embraced enclosed shopping areas that were air conditioned in summer, heated in winter and had plenty of parking (OK, except at Christmas). Where you could go in and out of more than a dozen shops without getting rained on or snowed on or assaulted by gale force winds.

Bottom line: The mall is new and different, it's probably attractive when it's not raining, but this old lady wasn't thrilled with it. If I want to hike, I'll go to the woods. If I want to be rained on - it won't be in November in the midwest.

Slate has an interesting article on these centers if you want a differnt perspective.

Veterans Day, 2008

Like many public television stations across the nation, our local PBS has been featuring shows about veterans this month. I find the stories unsettling, but I find myself watching them, fascinated by the individual stories of courage and sense of duty.

I don't have the words to give them the tribute they deserve, so this year I turn to their commander in chief.

A Proclamation by the President of the United States of America

On Veterans Day, we pay tribute to the service and sacrifice of the men and women who in defense of our freedom have bravely worn the uniform of the United States.

From the fields and forests of war-torn Europe to the jungles of Southeast Asia, from the deserts of Iraq to the mountains of Afghanistan, brave patriots have protected our Nation's ideals, rescued millions from tyranny, and helped spread freedom around the globe. America's veterans answered the call when asked to protect our Nation from some of the most brutal and ruthless tyrants, terrorists, and militaries the world has ever known. They stood tall in the face of grave danger and enabled our Nation to become the greatest force for freedom in human history. Members of the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and Coast Guard have answered a high calling to serve and have helped secure America at every turn.

Our country is forever indebted to our veterans for their quiet courage and exemplary service. We also remember and honor those who laid down their lives in freedom's defense. These brave men and women made the ultimate sacrifice for our benefit. On Veterans Day, we remember these heroes for their valor, their loyalty, and their dedication. Their selfless sacrifices continue to inspire us today as we work to advance peace and extend freedom around the world.

With respect for and in recognition of the contributions our service members have made to the cause of peace and freedom around the world, the Congress has provided (5 U.S.C. 6103(a)) that November 11 of each year shall be set aside as a legal public holiday to honor America's veterans.
NOW, THEREFORE, I, GEORGE W. BUSH, President of the United States of America, do hereby proclaim November 11, 2008, as Veterans Day and urge all Americans to observe November 9 through November 15, 2008, as National Veterans Awareness Week. I encourage all Americans to recognize the bravery and sacrifice of our veterans through ceremonies and prayers. I call upon Federal, State, and local officials to display the flag of the United States and to support and participate in patriotic activities in their communities. I invite civic and fraternal organizations, places of worship, schools, businesses, unions, and the media to support this national observance with commemorative expressions and programs.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this thirty-first day of October, in the year of our Lord two thousand eight, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-third.

GEORGE W. BUSH

http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2008/10/20081031-1.html

Did someone say "Fire"?

Did I tell you I work for the Dumass Company?

Somebody apparently complained about the lack of emergency preparedness in our office because last week, the receptionist sent out an evacuation map for fire drills and tornados.

As there is a exit door within one foot of our office door, I know where I'm going if there's a fire and if that exit is block we have windows on two sides of the office. I've been threatening to drop kick a computer out the window since I got there so it would be no problem "opening" a window to escape.

The problem lies with the tornado plan. It appears that we go through the wall just past the ladies' restroom or we go out the front door, I'm not sure which. Then we go down this hallway, turn left down that hallway, turn left down another hallway, turn right, cut through a wall, turn left, and that's where I get lost. If I get through the wall to the restroom, I think I'll just stay there. At least I know I'll have a place to sit.


We had a fire drill on Thursday - the first in 2 1/2 years, maybe the first ever. On Monday, we were told when the fire drill would be - day and hour. Some people were exempt from the fire drill. At least one man didn't know why he was on the exempt list but he wasn't stupid enough to ask questions.On Thursday, the receptionist sent out an email that said "This is a fire drill. Leave the building immediately." and some of the "fire marshalls" went around reminding people that there was a fire drill. As our office is next to the door we were the first ones out and could watch the other staff leaving. It was an orderly exit. Nobody had to yell, "Walk, Don't Run!"

Not that anybody walked. They ambled. They strolled. They took their own sweet time. I have never seen people leave a building so slowly.

As someone in the parking lot said to me, "That was the stupidest fire drill I ever saw."

Time stops for me

You should know by now how I feel about daylight saving time. If not, let me just say that it's a waste of time.

Twice a year I have to go around setting clocks back and forth. It takes me about a week and some clocks never get changed. Then after I get the clocks set, the electricity goes out and I have to set all the electric clocks over again. Then we go through the whole routine 1 or 2 more times before time settles down for the winter.

This year was no different, I set the clocks back on Sunday and on Tuesday the electricity went off and I had to reset the time on 5 clocks.

Just like clock work.

Somebody call Houston

because I think this is going to take a rocket scientist.

Today I helped an IT guy set up our printer/faxer/scanner so that we could scan things and send them to our email securely. This was the second time we tried this. Now, let me say that everybody makes mistakes. It may seem like it, but I don't really expect other people to be as perfect as I am. I just like to complain about their foibles because it makes us look better.

Anyhoo, we had tried this before one day last week. The first time there were a half dozen people on the phone in at least 3 different states and I don't think they got anything done. They were concentrating on a printer at another site and I was just wasting my time so I didn't pay a lot of attention. So maybe they got that one to work.

Anyhoo, "we" didn't get our printer set up at that meeting so 2 of the guys were going to contact me immediately after the call to try it again, but they didn't bother to ask me if I was available and I had back to back to back meetings so they had to reschedule.

Anyhoo, today was the day. I let the IT guy take over my computer remotely (he's in another state) so he could do everything because you know that all IT guys think that "normal people" are too stupid to turn on a computer without their help. At one point he said "I'm setting this up using the information in the configuration report you faxed to me yesterday." (And I had faxed him the report yesterday.)

Well, anyhoo, not only was he not able to get the scanner set up correctly he screwed up the printer so we could no longer use it to print either.

I sent him an email to let him know and I got this reply "Please fax me the configuration sheet you sent yesterday because I never got it. I don't know what happened to it."


I don't know about you, but I think I've located the problem. And it ain't me.

Spring ahead, Fall back

A few days ago, when my cold was beginning to wane, I was lying in bed contemplating not going to work. When I decided I wasn't that sick and it was time to get up, I rolled over on to my left side, gave myself a push with my right arm, and sprang out of bed, all in one fluid and graceful motion.

"Not bad for a 60 year old lady," I bragged to myself. (I also lied about my age to myself.)

Later that day, two of my coworkers - one in her 40's, one in her 30's - were complaining about how they had to stretch to get out of bed, and how they stretched the wrong way and their back hurt, and whine, whine, whine.

I thought about regaling them with my morning adventure of getting out of bed, but I refrained. I'm sympathetic and agile.

November 1

It's the first day of November. I have to remember to do two things today.

1. Set my clocks back one hour. - As you may know, I don't like "daylight saving time" (DST). It messes with my internal clock and the extra week they added this year has only made it worse. Just a warning: I'll be crankier than usual for the next month or two.
2. Get to the store before all the after-Halloween candy sales are over. - I need the chocolate. See # 1 above.

I still have a cold. I don't even have the energy to make fun of DST. But while I'm on the topic, who was the fool that thought adding an extra week in the fall was a good idea?

If it's not one thing

I have a cold. I didn't have a cold when I went to work Friday, but I had one Saturday morning. It always irritates me when I get sick on a weekend and have to waste a perfectly good day off.

Or in this case, 2 good days.

I'm trying to be brave here, but it's not easy.

• I'm breathing through my mouth, when I breathe at all.
• I can't find my cold medicine - probably because I don't have any and if I did it would be outdated because I haven't needed any in a long time and I'm too sick to go get any.
• I ran out of tissues with lotion about 4 hours ago and my nose hurts.
• My eyes are dry and will only half open so I can only half see through these trifocals.
• I'm tired of soup. Soup, soup, soup, soup.
• And I'm cranky. I have been remarkably sanguine (No, really I have been) through this whole ordeal, but now I'm cranky. Cranky, cranky, cranky.

Cranky.

Did you miss me?

I just got back from a short trip to Los Angeles. The trip was much less "traumatic" than last time. Maybe that's because I was in such a state for the three weeks prior.

Just so you know, let me repeat that it's not the flying that bothers me. It's the airplanes and the airports. They aren't all that concerned about making things easy for me.

I'll give you an example: at the Dallas Airport I had to change planes. My incoming flight landing on one side of the airport and my outgoing flight took off from the other side, catty-cornered so it was as far away as possible. I was suppose to have a 40 minute window to make the second flight, but the incoming plane landed on one side of the field and had to taxi to the other side. By the time I deplaned from the first plane, the other plane was already loading and I almost missed it. THEN on the way back I had a 2 hour layover in Phoenix - I arrived and departed at the same gate.

I took a short nap on the plane but I woke myself up when I snorted. I think it was me, but I blamed it on the old lady next to me who was also napping. She was on her way to see an old boyfriend. They were both widowed and he got to thinking about her and had looked her up and, to make a short story even shorter, after 2 weeks she was thinking of moving in with him. I'm not sure if that was romantic or just stupid, but (1) he had his own place, (2) she met his family, and (3) she had that teen-age-"I've got a new boyfriend"-look on her face so I'm going for romantic. May she always have that love light in her eyes.

At the 2-hr layover, I talked with a woman who was on her way "back home" to help her father. He had recently put his wife/her mother in a nursing home because he couldn't care for her at home any longer. She had early onset Alzheimer's that had progressed rapidly. The woman left a new grandbaby in Arizona. The baby was born with heart problems and she couldn't attend to her parents until she knew that her daughter and grandchild were doing well.

And so goes the circle of life.

Remember when I came back from a trip in June and I met a woman at the airport who couldn't remember what parking lot she'd left her car in? Would you believe that this time while I was waiting for the shuttle, the woman next to me asked which shuttle took you to the parking area. I said it would depend on which lot you're in. She had no idea where she'd parked over a month ago except it cost $6 a day. She said she'd ask the driver of one of the shuttles the name of the lot where she parked. ... Ohhh kaaay, I'm sure he'll remember.

Paradise Lost

There's no place like here.

Unless you're somewhere else.

And I wish I was.

Hettie and Me

Friday was my birthday. I'm a year older than I was a week ago.

For my birthday, I bought myself the complete collection of the Hettie Wainthrop mysteries on DVD. Normally I get my movies at the used book store for about a $1, but I splurged on Hettie's shows and I don't regret it one bit.

For those of you not familiar with Hettie Wainthtrop Investigates, it's a British mystery drama starring a past-middle age woman who decided on her 60th birthday that she wasn't old enough to be put out to pasture and decided to become a private investigator. She works with her husband and a young apprentice.

I love mysteries. I can relate to an old lady who likes to boss everybody around and has a young sidekick who admires and respects her. I get a glimpse into the lives of families on the other side of the world, that are so familiar to us yet still different, even strange.

The only problem with watching so much British TV is that the little voices inside my head are beginning to speak with British accents. It's so pretentious.

On my soapbox

An article on MSNBC today discussed the potential end to American-style capitalism related to what they called “The worst financial crisis since the Great Depression.”

Well, they gave their opinion now I want to give mine on a related topic.

What caused the financial debacle that is threatening the American way of life and jeopardizing my retirement?

GREED

Greed led to unethical, immoral, and corrupt business practices.

Let’s start with the wage gap between many of America’s CEOs and the workers. There is a gap between a company’s executives and their workers. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the executives making more money than the workers. It’s the American way to work yourself up from the lowest job to the top spot and make more money with each promotion. Money (as well as power) is a great incentive. Few Americans will argue that the boss shouldn’t be making more money.

However, ----- in too many companies today the current gap between an executive’s pay and the average worker is obscene, even immoral. The following articles give startlingly and infuriating facts and figures as they warn of the economic dangers about the disproportion pay.

2007 - Pay Gap Between CEOs and Workers Now a Chasm, Carl Levin, United States Senate

2005 - U.S.: Pay Gap Widens Between CEOs and Workers, Common Dreams

And it’s not just in America. This article from the United Kingdom, “Commitment of workers 'undermined' by huge salary gap with management”, warned in 2003 that “failure to resolve [the pay gap] issue could damage long-term economic growth.”

1999 – Responsible Wealth urged companies to set a ratio between the top executive and the lowest paid worker, thereby linking the executives’ pay to the workers’. This article also points out that huge pay raises for CEOs often follows layoffs and cuts in benefits.

Greed often comes from a sense of entitlement which is the belief that “what I want is what I get, and you have to give it to me.”

SENSE OF ENTITLEMENT

Many executives have a greedy sense of entitlement that makes them keep increasing their benefits while stomping on the workers. They see their peers getting more and more and they feel they’re entitled to more and more and more. Even when they fail they feel they deserve a multimillion dollar severance package and SOME FOOL gives it to them.

But you know this is where the workers share something with the bosses. They also have a sense of entitlement. I’ve heard fellow workers express the belief that their supervisor doesn’t have the right to tell them what to do, I’ve seen smokers who think they’re entitled to a break at least once an hour just because they smoke, I have a co-worker who thinks he should stop working when his work is “done”, but still get paid for 8 hours (our work is never ending so how does he know when he’s “done”?). This same co-worker thinks he should get a raise and/or bonus every year just because he comes to work most days and stays most of the 8 hours.

Don’t get me started on politicians and their “sense of entitlement” for themselves and the people who vote for them. It’s what adds billions of dollars for weird local projects onto good bills. It’s what made their heath care and retirement benefits so enviable while many of their voters have neither. They do get higher taxes to help pay for the politician’s perks!

I’m tired. These people make me tired. What ever happened to “An honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work”? Does nobody but me (and Peter Bower) remember John Wayne’s “We’re burning daylight”?

Do I have a solution?

Nobody will listen to me. I’m just a worker. But I do have a big foot and a nice pair of clodhoppers that might get things started in the right direction if applied to the right place.

What I did today.

I got my driver's license renewed today. Just saying in case you wanted to know.

When I got to the BMV (Bureau of Motor Vehicles), I read the sign that said "You will need the following to renew your license." It had 3 items all labeled with the number 1. I couldn't figure out if that meant you only needed one of the 3 or if they were all important or what, but I didn't have any of those things. I still got my license.

I was impressed with how clean and uncrowded it was, as well as how polite the staff was. Not like the old days in a neighboring county where they made the staff pass a nasty test before they hired them and the floor had never seen the sunny side of a wet mop.

To get ready for the eye exam, I cleaned my glasses with a glass cloth and cleaner I found in my purse, but it left a blurry film over the lenses. By the way, I can get free re-fills of that cleaner from a large national chain store whenever I want. Which I don't. I tried breathing on the lenses and wiping them off with my cotton blouse. Low tech, but it worked.

Anyway, I sat down to take the vision test and I couldn't tell if the first 4 characters of line 5 were numbers or letters but they all looked the same. I backed up and tried 'er again. At least there was a difference but they could have been Greek letters for all I knew. So I backed up and tried 'er again. I'm still not sure what those 4 things were, but the other characters looked clearer so I mumbled 4 likely letters/numbers and followed up with 8 more distinct answers. It worked.

Then I had to go see the woman who asks personal questions like how much do you weigh, what color is your hair, are you a felon. I lied about my weight, of course, and I didn't say my hair was gray because tomorrow it might be brown or blonde or even red.

The questioner had a slight accent and I had to pay close attention to understand her. Which was good that I did because when she asked if I had any hearing impairment that would prevent me from operating a motor vehicle I was able to understand enough of the sentence that I didn't go, "Eh? Speak up!"

Driving is as much an adventure when you get old as when you're young. Just in a different way.

How rude!

I had a dream this morning that I was at the staff meeting at work. I hate dreaming that I'm working when I'm not at the office. It's so tiring.

Anyhoo as the saying goes ......

Because we have staff in more than one state, our staff meetings are always conference calls. In my dream, we had moved the meeting outside to a park - complete with the phone and a very long extension cord.

I was relaxing in a lounge chair next to the conference table and was perturbed because someone was snoring so loudly that I couldn't hear what the staff in other states was saying.

When I sat up and complained, "Who is that snoring?" all my co-workers stood up and pointed at me.

Wasn't that rude of them to call me out like that?

Not much. How 'bout you?

Today is the first day of October. Just in case you didn't know.

It finally feels like fall. Not even 70 degrees. I love this weather. Does anybody know where it stays between 60 and 72 all year round, with lots of sun shine and only occassional rain?

I'm looking for paradise and as close as I could come was a couple of dice in the game drawer.


Get it? A couple of dice? Pair of dice?

It feels good just to say it.

“Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so? There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.” ... Drew Carey

It's not that I hate my job. I like the work that I do and I'm good at it. It's just that I don't like the company I work for and I'm not overly fond of the management team.

That probably says a lot - we have a "management" team, not a manager. If you don't know what you're doing, surround yourself with others who don't know either. That way they can't tell just how stupid you really are - and you always have someone else to blame when the peasants revolt. I've had a lot of managers, at least 2 dozen, maybe 3, probably more, so when I tell you that these people aren't good managers, understand that I'm talking from experience.

Why do managers think lying to employees is a good thing and why do some managers go out of their way to demoralize their best workers? And why does a company put up with that crap?

More important, why do I put up with that crap? I wouldn't have when I was younger. I would have told them politely (more or less) what they could do with their job - but then I didn't like those jobs.

I just read an article on what you should do if you hate your job.

# 1 suggestion: Quit - well, I'm thinking about it seriously. But that seems a drastic measure. It's not easy to find work that you like, that you're good at, and that pays decently. But it's coming. A letter to my manager saying Take this job, etc would be very satisfying. If I thought he could read it.

The article said it realized that quitting wasn't an option for everybody so it gave some other suggestions.

1. Decorate your working place. Hang some pictures on the walls. - I don't have any walls. I only have 2 sides to my cube and there are file cabinets hanging on both. I do have a picture of a computer going out a high rise office building and I'd like to draw in a picture of a tiny little IT guy following it out the window.


2. Open the windows. - My windows don't open, though I have considered throwing that stupid computer through it several times. I suppose that might relieve some stress, but how many times can you do that before management realizes it can't always be an accident?


3. Combine your job with a hobby. - I have a strong work ethic (yes, I'm still crazy after all these years). I don't think one should get paid for playing around when you're suppose to be working. I did work with a crafter once who was known to work on her crafts at work - even to setting up an ironing station in her cube - and I heard about a guy in another department that sold real estate out of his cube. [Do you really believe that everybody but managers knew about these people?]


4. Get to know the people you work with. - Uh, why? They are what make sane people quit their jobs.


5. Find a new office flirt. - You're flirting with danger with this one. and you probably have poor taste.


6. Change your point of view. - Oh, sure, I'll just be Polyanna-cheerful and ignore the crap. Trust me, sister, once the crap piles up to your eyebrows it's hard to breathe and the only thing left to do is say

I QUIT!

Man, it feels good just to say it out loud.

Time isn't what it used to be

Did you know today was the first day of fall?

I just found out a few minutes ago and it took me by surprise. I don't know why because I know what day of the month it is (which is unusual for me) and I knew that fall was coming. I just didn't expect it this soon.

I think it's probably the weather that has me befuddled It's over 80 degrees here which is about 10 degrees warmer (at least to me) than it should be. I need to find some fall clothes that are summer weight. Good luck to me.

It's time for the time to change away from DST, but it will be another month, month and a half, before that happens. It's already affecting my internal clock because it's dark in the morning when I have to get out of bed. When I wake up befuddled that it's 7:30 and still dark I have to tell myself, "Oh, it's really 6:30." and then I call politicians dirty names.

Leave the time alone.

If you want to change something, change the calendar so that all the months have the same number of days. Nobody knows what day it is anyway.

And the Emmy goes to ........

I'm watching the Emmy award show on television. Off and on. Mostly off.

I wonder if my parents and grandparents felt like me if they watched the Emmys when it first started. About the shows getting nominated. Never saw that show. Watched that show five minutes and it stank. Never saw that show. Never wanted to see that show. Wanted desparately to never see that show. What happened to all the good shows?

This is the 60th anniversary of the Emmys. I don't think TV has been around that long which just goes to show you how narcissistic television people actually are.

I did watch the memorial section about people in the biz who died this year. It evoked the usual comments - I didn't know she died! I didn't know he was still alive!

A couple of minutes ago they awarded the Emmy for --- Oh, excuse me. Tom Selleck is getting ready to award something and I want to watch this. I don't care what the award is or to whom - I just want to see Tom Selleck. Still looking good in or out of his Hawaaiian shirts.

OK, that's over - they're running out of time and "funny" little patter so they're cutting everybody short, sometimes very rudely.

Now, back to the "A couple of minutes ago they awarded the Emmy for" segment. They awarded an Emmy for the best "reality show" host. Of course, they ignored Phil from The Amazing Race. I get the feeling that Hollywood doesn't appreciate The Amazing Race the way America does. I think it's because there's not enough sex, nudity, back stabbing, and dumbness on TAR. Now sometimes TAR has really annoying contestants, but they detract from the show, they aren't the basis for the show, like say Big Brother or Survivor. Let America vote and TAR wins everytime.

It's over and time for the news. I hate award shows.

Animal Tails

A puddle does not make a pond
Last week after it rained, I looked out to the parking lot at work. The was one fat goose sitting in the middle of a water puddle that was only about 3 inches wider all around than the goose. And there were 3 other geese standing around waiting their turn. We live in a community that encourages water retention ponds. Within a mile, there are probably at least a half dozen ponds suitable for actual swimming (if you're a goose or a duck, not a person). Did they think they were on vacation at an Econo-Lake or something?

Look both ways and pay attention.
When I went to lunch one day earlier this week, a squirrel was nonchalantly crossing the street until he spied my car, then he scurried back to the safety of the curb while my passenger held her breath and made funny noises through her teeth. I didn't tell her that when I went home along the same street later that day, there was a flattened squirrel at the same spot.

There's one in every bunch, or is that flock?
This morning on my way to work a line of ducks was crossing the road so the car in front of me slowed down. As we reached the ducks, the car came to a stop even though the ducks were all on on the other side. I thought "I'm in a hurry here! What are you doing?" Then I saw one lone duck reach the sidewalk, taking his time, enjoying the view, not a care in the world. I wish I'd had a picture of the squirrel to show him.

There's always somebody

First, let me say that I truly feel sorry for the folks whose lives have been interrupted and devasted by Hurricane Ike. From trying to choose what items to save, to waiting in line trying to evacuate, to living in a shelter with hundreds of strangers, it's a heart-rendering situation.

But there's always somebody .....

On the news yesterday, a man of around 35 - 45 was being interviewed about his decision to not evacuate. He said it was scary but they survived. However, they were running out of food. It hadn't even been 24 hours and they were running out of food! I bet they had plenty of beer.

SOS

I couldn't find any Chocolate covered potato chips so I bought a 30 cent bag of chips and some dipping chocolate and made my own. I'm over it now.

I bought some chipped beef to make Chipped Beef Gravy because I wanted some. I have it about once a year or less because sometimes I just want it.

I seem to have a lot of food cravings for a non-pregnant person. There's probably something psychological about it, but who cares?

There's not much simpler than Chipped Beef Gravy. You buy the beef in a little jar that you can keep and use for a juice glass if you want. You open the jar with an old fashioned bottle opener then you rinse the beef well if you want to cut down on the salt. Then you throw a batch of home-made biscuits in the oven and while they're cooking you make a cream sauce. (2 tablespoons butter, 2 tablespoons flour for each cup of cold milk, more or less depending on how thick you want the gravy) Cut up the beef, throw it in the sauce and serve it over a hot biscuit (with one on the side for sopping). If you got 'em, put a poached egg on top of the biscuit before smothering it with the gravy. If you're southern, heap a nice serving of grits on the side.

Of course, if you really want it simple you could buy a box of frozen Chipped Beef Gravy and a tube of refrigerated biscuits or make some toast. Or go to a restaurant.

The Dumass Company Strikes Again.

I work at the most Dumass company in the whole wide world. I know almost everybody thinks that, and sometimes it's actually true. If you work with the same level of Dumasses as I do, you have my heartfelt sympathy. And today I'm talking about the faceless management who make up stupid rules just to make stupid rules.

I prepared a knock out presentation for an upcoming conference, but first it had to be reviewed by the company's Formatting Police. They insist that you only use the colors, font, font size, bullets, and pictures that they tell you to use. After their review, the presentation is mediocre at best. Personally, I think it's boring and ugly.

They insist you use a puke green stripe at the bottom of the screen. And accent it with dull blue.

You have to use their pictures and their choice of bullets. You can't even use the clip art and graphic elements that come with PowerPoint.

They changed puncuation, pictures, and words. They changed capitalized words to lowercase which changed the meaning of the phrases. Would you believe they took the period off sentences?

They changed graphs around so they didn't represent the data correctly.

They changed the animation so that elements disappeared when they shouldn't have and didn't do anything when they should have.

But to me, the worst part was what they did to the font. They made the font so small that my eyes still hurt from trying to read the computer screen to see what havoc they had wrought. I can just imagine the audience trying to see it from 20 - 30 feet away or trying to read any handouts.

Imagine tiny little letters on a plain white background.

Which makes the biggest impact: $15,000,000 or $15,000,0000. Yeah, it kind of loses something when you have to squint to see it, doesn't it?

And when they finished, they congratulated themselves and announced "Look's great!"

No, it looks stupid and I'm embarrassed to have it seen in public.

Ummmmm. Chocolate.

I want some chocolate covered potato chips. I have been wanting them for almost 3 weeks after having something chocolate and then a potato chip while watching TV and mindlessly snacking. The taste was surprisingly interesting.

One of the guys I work with overheard me telling me one of the gals I work with that I wanted some and he said he had them one year at a Christmas party and they were great. He thought the combination sounded weird till he had one.

But apparently you can't buy Chocolate Covered except at Christmas and by the time Christmas gets here I'll have forgotten all about them till after Christmas and then it will be too late until next Christmas

I could make them myself but that seems like a lot of work. Dipping one potato chip at a time into chocolate. I think I'd eat them faster than I could dip them.

I did look for recipes. The ingredients for one recipe included 24 chips and served 12. Yeah, right.

Here is the simplest recipe I found. I'm going to give it a try one of these days with a few potato chips and a few chocolate chips.

Chocolate Covered Potato Chips
From Dorothy McNett's Recipe book at http://www.dorothymcnett.com/.

potato chips
dark, sweet, or milk chocolate

1. Microwave the chocolate in a batter bowl on high for 1 minute. Stir.
2. Microwave another 20-30 seconds and then stir to melt.
3. Dip the chips and place on waxed paper to harden.

Labor Day

Today is Labor Day. I celebrated by laying around the house and doing nothing.

I watched TV. I watched a couple of minutes of Martha Stewart. Her hair dresser is opening a new shop in downtown Manhattan. I spent a couple more minutes wondering if her hair dresser had to pay for the "free" advertising or if Martha ran a short about the new shop's construction just to be nice. I watched about 3 minutes of The View but their bickering was annoying so I watched a little bit of Ellen and Will Smith. He seemed nervous. Then it was time for a rerun of Andy Griffith. It was the one where Howard's mother got married and Howard moved into his own bachelor pad.

Then I didn't really watch I Love Lucy which was the one where they're all coming back from California on a train and Lucy keeps pulling the emergency brake.

Then I watched Andy Griffith in Matlock. It was part 1 of a 2 part show and I have to go to work tomorrow. I've seen the show before but I can't remember who dunit. It was the show with flashbacks of Matlock's father and the time he was arrested for murder and Matlock is defending the son of the man who eventually got convicted of the murder. It seems like everytime I'm at home during the week and watch Matlock, it's part 1 of a 2 part show and I can't see the second show unless I come home for lunch or pretend to be sick and stay home all day.

Then I watched the comedy lineup on the religious channel. They start with My 3 Sons. I was lucky - it was a show about Katie's aunt that they don't show very often. I think I've seen it once before. Then there's Laverne and Shirly and an episode I'd never seen before - it was one of the later shows. Even Shirly must have been tired of the show by then because she was gone. And I don't think I'd seen the episode of Happy Days which was next or the episode of Hogan's Heroes which followed that.

Then I took a shower. Then it was time for WESTERNS. I watched Bonanza which was the episode where Ben gets kidnapped and then Gunsmoke which was the episode where Dodge city almost ran out of water.

So all in all it wasn't a bad day.

Hope you all had a good Labor Day and didn't have to Labor any more than I did.

Walking

I saw a woman taking her dog for a walk yesterday. She was carrying the dog in her arms, which seems to negate most of the positve effects one's dog is suppose to derive from "walking the dog".

But my brother had a short legged little dog that had the same problem: he could usually get there, he just couldn't make it back.

I can sympathize. Some of us old ladies have the same problem.

What does it take?

I yelled at a guy at worked today, but it didn't faze him. He's still stupid.

I don't cry much anymore.

Saturday night I watched The Royal, a British show about a small rural hospital. I enjoy the show, but they have a tendency to kill people off at the end of a season and Saturday they started off with a train wreck that derailed every car on the track.

You knew somebody was going to die when you saw the cars perched precariously on their sides and teetering on top of each other. You had to hope it wasn't the sweet young Irish nurse who was coming back from a visit with her family, or the newly married couple just beginning their lives together, or the nice vicar who was visiting his mother after 3 years in the Indian mission fields.

The cut on the vicar's head wasn't serious, and he had a bruised rib that didn't appear fractured, just sore. It was touch and go for several moments while the young couple and the nurse and the new doctor were rescued from a burning car. It looked like nobody was going to die.

Then the vicar took a turn for the worse while his mother searched the hospital for him, politely, calmly asking, "Have you seen my son?"

When they took him to surgery, I found myself momentarily praying for him. I quickly remembered it was just a TV show and he wasn't really dying, but I cried anyway. I was surprised at the torrent of tears for a character I didn't even know.

I don't like my TV shows to be sad. I want them all to have happy endings. But that didn't explain the tears.

I wasn't crying for the vicar. I was crying for me.

It's not always about book learnin'

School started this week around here. Poor things. Kids today have a month less of summer than I had when I was their age.

You'll have to forgive me if I want to point and bray, Ha-Ha!

School was shorter back in the 'good old days'. Probably because we were naturally smarter.

I started school when I was five and graduated when I was 17. I went to two elementary schools and three different high schools, but didn't go to kindergarten or junior high. They didn't have them back then, didn't need them.

My elementary school in southern Indiana covered the first 8 grades, but only had 6 classrooms. Our library was a book case in the back of the 7th/8th grade classroom. We had the same teacher for 5 years. She taught us to do the twist and that it was polite for men to light your cigarettes for you. I know, the cigarette thing was a strange thing to teach grade school students, but she wanted to prepare us for life. I guess.

There were only 13 kids that graduated from my eighth grade class. Me, Connie, Rita, Mary, Linda B, Yvonne, Patsy, Larry, Robert, Irvin, Rosemary, Linda P, and Gail. Joyce didn't graduate with us, but she was one of our classmates. Her family were farm workers and she drifted in and out of our school as her family migrated from crop to crop.

Sometimes I think about Joyce and hope I was kinder to her than I remember. I was never mean to her on purpose and I think I was always polite, but that's not always enough, is it?

Happy birthday, Aunt Joan!

My Aunt Joan's birthday was yesterday. This is a picture of her and her daughter taken about 30 years ago at a family Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner at my grandparents' home. The little girl in the picture is now a minister and the mother of two boys. of her own.


Even though I've known her over half a century, this is the only picture I have of my Aunt Joan. Except for the ones in my head, and in my heart.

In your eye

If you'd like to see some fantastic pictures of the sky, visit Astronomy Picture of the Day . "Each day a different image or photograph of our fascinating universe is featured, along with a brief explanation written by a professional astronomer."

Look at this spectacular snapshot labeled "X-Rays from the Cat's Eye Nebula".


Amazing, isn't it? Go to the web site and back track to August 4th to see a brief explanation of what it is, and a bigger and even more amazing view.

Some days are golden.

Today was a perfect summer day.

Too hot for comfort, but an occassional breeze to make you think it wasn't.
Bright blue sky that overfilled the heavens, tumbling all the way down to that summer green grass that makes a perfect seat to enjoy the shady nooks provided by trees in full leaf.

A barefoot day.

The new dog in town.

My new neighbors have a big dog. A really big dog.

I haven't seen it yet but when I came home from work yesterday it barked at me when I opened my front door. It was so loud, I thought it was in my living room and took one step back before I realized it wasn't.

The week before I saw another neighbor walking his dog. It was so big I had to look twice, no - three times, to make sure it wasn't a deer. I think it was a giant greyhound. What looks like a giant greyhound, but is the size and color of a deer? A weimaraner?

I live in an apartment complex. If I had a dog as big as those, I'd rent one apartment for the dog and one for me because: When that dog lies around the house - he lies around the house. Where else would that dog lie? - anywhere he wants.

Heaven and Earth

Randy Pausch died today. I never knew him, never met him, never saw him except on TV, but I'm going to miss him. I was rooting for you, Randy. I thought you'd be here 10 years from now. I wanted to meet you and tell you how much fun I had learning Alice even though I'm an old lady. I wanted to see if you were really you.

Click here to read the MSNBC notice of his death.

You can read about his life in the inspirational book "The Last Lecture". I think he must have lived more every day of his dying than most of us will manage in a lifetime.

Today is Tuesday

Remember when I planted a cactus garden for my birthday and I said I gave it a month because even though cacti are suppose to be one of those hard to kill plants I always manage to kill them quickly?

I can't remember if that was last year or the year before, but I still have one cactus left. I replanted it a couple of weeks ago and it's actually growing. Of course, it was probably the least interesting looking cactus of the bunch. It doesn't even really look like a cactus, but it has one thing over them other plants. It still lives.

I repotted several plants at the same time and my other not-so-attractive plant now looks very nice. Last year I tried to send it on it's way (i.e., kill it off) by setting it outside and watering it infrequently. The plant (which I think is a type of aralia) consisted of a very skinny stick about 3 1/2 feet tall with 4 or 5 leaves at the top. And only the top. Not only was it scrawny and leafless, it listed badly to one side. Got the picture?

Well, it didn't die and it didn't freeze when it should have so I brought it back inside over the winter. It grew a few more leaves, but still looked like it was trying to grow horizontally. You should see it now. A new pot, some new soil, a little fertilizer. It doesn't lean and it has over a dozen leaves from top to bottom. I think I'll keep it after all.

The moral of the story is: Sometimes ugly has to survive. Anyway it can.

What I Want

Every weekend I watch a television show called New Tricks. The show is about 3 retired British police detectives who have been recruited to investigative unsolved crimes in a unit led by a younger, and female, Detective Superintendent Sandra Pullman.

One of the detectives, Jack, is still completely devoted to his wife Mary who died several years ago after she was hit by a car. Jack has been haunted by the fact that the driver of the hit and run vehicle was never found - until last week. The unrepentant murderer confessed to Jack that he had done it and taunted him repeatedly that he had done it on purpose to stop Jack's investigation. So....... Jack tried to run over the man with his car, but Sandra ran into Jack's car and stopped him.

Then the 3 ex-detectives and Sandra covered up the attempted crime after arresting the almost murdered bad guy. To complicate matters, another police woman had been temporiarily assigned to their unit to spend her last few weeks before retirement. They thought she was sent there to spy on them, but in the end they learned she had also helped cover up the assassination attempt out of respect for Jack.

Now that's what I want. I want to work with a team that will help bury the body.

What's in a name

If I did have 2 donkeys, I'd name them Smart and Dumb.
Or maybe Fat and Lard.
Or maybe not.

Like a plastic sieve

I have a memory like a plastic sieve. One with big holes.

I had something interesting to tell you, but I can't remember what it was. Since I can't think of anything interesting to say, I'll go for educational.

Have you ever noticed that Queen Elizabeth Tudor (from the 1550's) is often portrayed with a sieve in her hand? (Elizabeth Images ) That's because she's known as 'The Virgin Queen" and that's because she never married. She took her job as queen quite seriously and wanted to do it herself.

And speaking of sieves, I've always wanted to try ore prospecting. I'd probably last a half day before I'd be crying to take my donkey and go home. (I like flush toilets and ice in my drinks.) Anyhoo, as the saying goes, I've been thinking of visiting the Crater of Diamonds State Park in Arkansas and prospect for diamonds. You can actually prospect for diamonds (for $6.50) and keep any you find. I think they call the sieve a screen but it serves the same purpose.


You can take pets into the park, but I'm not sure that includes donkeys. Do you know the difference between a burro and a donkey? Well, I do. (I just Googled it). A burro is a small donkey and often used as a pack animal because it's especially sure footed. So maybe I could get a burro in the park and look like a real prospector. It will probably be easier to manage the burro than grow a grizzled old beard.

Day in, Day out

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Seconds.
Minutes.
Hours.
Days.

Time's up.

Your time.
My time.
Their time.
Our time.

No time.

All the time in the world.

Happy 80th Birthday!

Today is my uncle's 8oth birthday. He's a good man, my Uncle Bob. A hard working, God loving, family man. Maybe that's how he got to be 80 without showing it, 'cause he's still good looking.

Happy, Happy Birthday

and Many, Many More!

Don't go out in the daylight.

I had today off work so I went shopping at Target in the middle of the day. Not something I usually do. Not something I'll do again soon.


Every mother in this suburb and beyond brought their kids, their relatives' kids, and their neighbors' kids shopping today. I don't know if it's that way every work day or just on Monday. And if only on Monday, why Monday?


I thought about doing a survey.

1. Are these all your kids?


2. They are?! Are you aware that your family is well over the national average of 2.2 kids per family?


3. Oh, you only have 2 kids? Are you sure? I'm sure I counted 4 under, over, and around your cart. And mine.

I really think most of the carts had more than 2.2 kids, but it was hard to count 'em as none of them could stand still or walk straight or stay out of my way. (If you can't teach your kids to be polite, at least train them to stay out of the way of cranky old ladies.)

Has anybody counted lately? I mean has the average number of kids per American family increased in the past few years, or is it only in this county?

Or am I so old I just can't tolerate the over-active little rug-rats anymore?

Pick up a 6-pack today

I don't know why traveling and the subsequent changes in time zones discombobulates me so much. It's been almost a week since I got back and I'm still topsy turvy.

My inner clock needs reset. I was exhausted yesterday without doing anything. I went to bed at midnight (but I went to sleep about 10:30) and I woke up this morning at 6:05. I don't like getting up that early. The sun's barely up by then (and this morning it's still not working that hard.)

I have trouble remembering what day it is. Last Friday felt like Saturday to me and so does today. It is Friday, isn't it?

I have a 4-day weekend this week and I'm off next Friday for the 4th of July. At this rate it will be the middle of August before I'm back in sync with the rotation of the planets.

I can't afford to be mislaying days like spare sunglasses. You can't just go out and buy a new day.

Oooh, if I only could! Say last Thursday was a total waste, I could go into the New Day Store and say "I'd like a replacement for last Thursday, please. That last one was not satisfactory." or "Give me a 6-pack of Saturdays."

A 6-pack of Saturdays. That's what you get when you retire.

Here and There

I just got back from a 3 day business trip to Los Angeles. You all know I hate to travel on business. This was a better trip than most, but I still want to complain.

First, when I tried to print off my boarding pass the night before I was to leave, none of the numbers on my reservation would work so I ran into work on Monday morning to see if the confirmation number was in one of the other numerous e-mails I'd received about the trip. I forgot my badge to get into the department and nobody was there yet so I had to go home, get the badge, and go back to work. Still nobody there so my trip wasn't in vain. I searched through the emails two or three times and still couldn't find the number so I called the travel company and they said it was on the reservation sheet I had. I read the sheet to them and they couldn't find it either so then they gave me the number. I don't know why nobody could give me the number till I proved I didn't have it.

Second, I left early for the airport because they're working on the road between here and there (of course) and I'd heard there were sometimes long delays. There weren't any, so I got to the airport early - but better too early than too late.

Then I couldn't find which gate to go to so I just got in the security line closest to the airline I was using. There were two what-ever-you-call-the-people-who-check-your-boarding-pass-before-you-go-to-the-security-line, but only one of them was working. The other one just stood at his podium and ordered people to the other line. I guess they have to get their kicks some way. It was the wrong line (of course), but the "whatever-she's-called" told me to go to the B concourse which wasn't anywhere close to the ticket counter

It wasn't B (of course), it was A. So I went there. It was the last gate at the end of concourse A (of course). There was a coffee cafe in the middle of the waiting area near the gate. I don't like the smell of brewing coffee and it was making me nauseated so I tried to sit as far away as I could, but that area was really hot so I walked down to some of the stores. It was really hot there too. I know because I heard several skinny women complaining and skinny women rarely complain about it being too hot. Nothing like sitting on a plane for 3 1/2 hours cheek to jowl with sweaty people, is there?

Anyway, I finally got on the plane and there were only two people in the three seats where I was located! That hardly ever happens any more, but I switched planes in Las Vegas and it happened again. My lucky day!

At Las Vegas, it was a little walk from the gate where I got off the plane to the gate where I got on the next plane. That was a little annoying since it was the same airline, but it wasn't really that far. It just wasn't marked well and it was hard to get around all the slot machines which, by the way, are way too noisy.

Only an hour and a half till I reached the Burbank airport and from there I had to catch a shuttle to the hotel. The street signs from here to there said "shuttles" so I expected the shuttles to stop between those signs. Wrong. You had to cross the street to get to the shuttles. Now, if the can erect 6 signs that say "shuttles" with arrows pointing forward, they could have put up one sign with an arrow pointing to the left.

(By the way, I much prefer the shuttles in the Los Angeles area to the taxi's I've taken there. The taxi drivers tend to be surly and uncooperative - I've only met two, but that's the impression I got. The shuttle drivers are much nicer and the shuttle is cheaper by at least half.)

[In case you're interested, I shared the shuttle with a half dozen nuns who were going on a retreat. We dropped them off at the nun's retreat house which was a large castle hidden in the hills somewhere between Burbank and Los Angeles. It had gargolyes and a big iron castle-type gate in front of the door. One of the nuns told me it looked even more like a castle on the inside. She said she thought it used to be owned by a car salesman.]

Then I got to the hotel. It advertised a lovely Japanese garden where you could enjoy sit an enjoy a tranquil garden and brook in the middle of downtown Los Angeles. It was a beautiful little garden with a brook and waterfall, but the loveliness fought with the utilitarian tables and chairs set up for the nightly beerfest and the tranquility was marred by the ubiquitous TV sets that blare in most in-door bars.

The hotel was ok - it was clean and comfortable which is all I really ask for a hotel. But it had a real thermostat so I could set the temperature in my room to my liking and it actually almost worked. It had black out curtains which completely shut out the sun so when I was ready to go to bed on Indiana time it was dark as night in my room while the sun shone outside on California time. The bathroom was a little small, but I could shut the door without straddling the toilet, the towels were nice and big, and the shower worked well.

Now is my favorite part - the trip home. YEAH! The shuttle driver got to the hotel 15 - 30 minutes early, but I was prepared for that. The only problem was that the one hotel clerk was helping two other customers who spoke some English but mostly something that sounded like German. The clerk spoke English and Japanese so their conversation was going slowly. I told the shuttle driver I'd be with him as soon as I checked out and he said "No problem", took my bags to the shuttle, and waited patiently. The clerk overheard me and abandoned the other customers momentarily to attend to me.

Of course, since the shuttle came early I got to the airport way too early so of course I got my tickets, checked in my bag, and walked through the security line in under 10 minutes. Then I got on a little plane. Then they asked 8 or 9 people to volunteer get off. The pilot said the runways at the Burbank airport are short and because of the heat they had to take off from the shortest runway and to get the plane in the air they had to decrease the weight or we'd never make it. The volunteers were promised a seat on the next flight in an hour plus a free ticket. Since I'm fat I thought about getting off because I'd count as 1 1/2 people, but I had to catch a plane in Phoenix and at least 9 people got off anyway so I didn't have to worry about causing the plane to crash (how embarrassing those headlines would have been!) I know the thought of the plane crashing on take off was a big incentive to at two of the volunteers.)

Anyway, we made it. We landed at concourse B in Phoenix and my next plane took off from concourse A. The very end of concourse A (of course). It was a 107 degrees in Phoenix, but their airport was cool. Thank goodness. I swear it was at least a half mile jog from the landing gate to the gate where my next plane took off.

On the trip back, it looked like there were only going to be 2 people in the 3 seats where I was sitting. My seat mate was so excited, but then 2 stragglers got on the plane and one of them was seat B in our row. She was a nice lady (even though she owns 9 cats), but she squirmed like an 8 year old boy most of the trip. Even $15 worth of liquor didn't calm her down.

Now, I have a difficult time getting most seat belts on planes to close easily because (1) I'm not mechanically inclined and (2) they just fit around me, and (3) they fasten around my hips under my right boob so I can't see them and it doesn't seem polite to ask a complete stranger to hold my boob up so I can see what I doing. Anyway, this last seatbelt wasn't fastening and I finally realized the seat belt was twisted so I was trying to put the right end into the wrong end of the other part, if you know what I mean. It turned out the seat belt was permantely twisted and it wasn't that I'd gained weight between airplane 1 and airplane 2, but that the twist made the seat belt shorter. Eventually, I got the little sucker closed but all the twisting and turning had twisted my clothes so I had to unbuckle and start all over.

After take off I tried reading a book but it was hard to concentrate. The kid behind me was yelling, the passenger two seats to the left had her head set at full blast, and Miss Squirmy on my left was constantly poking me, prodding me, or stepping on my foot. So I sang 190 bottles of beer on the wall. To myself, of course. I calculated that would last about 3 hours. I would read a little, then sing a few rounds, then read a little, then sing another few rounds. I evn went to the bathroom even though I didn't need to, but Miss Squirmy invited me and I thought "Why not? What else have I got to do? First time ever, I drank all the bottles of beer on the wall. Still had 15 minutes to go.

Of course, it was actually 20 minutes because we landed late, then it took 10 minutes to taxi to the airport, another 5 - 10 minutes to start unloading the plane and another 10 - 15 minutes to get me off the plane.

Then I had to go pick up my luggage. My bag was one of the last ones off the plane (of course), it took forever for the shuttle bus to pick me up to take me to the car park, and I had to leave Miss Squirmy standing at the shuttle island trying to remember where she parked. All she could remember was that it was in "long term parking". There must me 5 or 6 long term parking lots at the airport. Made me feel guilty to abandon her, but she didn't seem concerned and did seem to want to get rid of me so I said good-bye and left her there. I hope she's not still there.

It was a good shuttle ride. There were gentlemen on the shuttle that helped me haul my bag up the stairs and directed me to one of the few empty seats (they were standing), and the shuttle driving sang out cheerfully "Have a good night" to every passenger as they left the shuttle. I know because everybody else had got off before we got to my stop (of course).

I got home 1 hour and 50 minutes after the plane landed, but the only thing that counted was I got home.

Ups and Downs

Remember when I said I thought my boobs had dropped another 2 inches? I started doing strength training with light weights a few weeks ago and I think they're slowly moving back up.

Either that, or the crick I got in my neck from the exercise has lowered my head an inch.

TV isn't what it used to be any more

Jim McKay, the sports announcer, died earlier this week. Even though I don't particularly like sports I recognized his name immediately. I didn't need to see a picture of him for Olympics and sports to start flashing on my mental billboard. I immediately thought, "Can they do the olympics without Jim McKay?"

Tim Russert, TV journalist, died today. I didn't recognize his name at all. The moment I saw his face I knew who he was, but even then nothing jogged a brain cell to go "Oh, of course. Now I remember." I've seen him many times on television; I've enjoyed his interviewing style on Meet the Press. Why can't I remember hearing his name?

I'm not into politics anymore than I'm in to sports, but what Jim McKay did to sports, Mr. Russert did to politics.

TV isn't what it used to be any more and never will be again.

Water, Water Everywhere

Did you hear about the flooding in Indiana this weekend? It was absolutely awful to watch the newscasts all day Saturday. Water was lapping at the eaves of houses far from rivers, several downtown areas were flooded, 90% of the small town of Pargon was under water, acres of crops were lost,the Columbus hospital had to evacuate patients, bridges were swept away, interstates were closed.

Even though the water rose rapidly and with little warning in many places, only 3 deaths have been attributed to the floods. Within hours, rescue boats and divers were on the scene. The National Guard, Coast Guard, and Marines were called to duty. The Red Cross and Salvation Army quickly set up shelters in many counties. And neighbor helped neighbor.

Between tornadoes and floods, this has been a tough year for the Red Cross and Salvation Army in Indiana (and we're only half way through the year!). If you want to help in the relief effort, go to The Indy Channel and click on Storm Relief or go to Salvation Army Donations.