th' future 

What sucks more than a month end on a Monday, I ask you? Well, I guess there are worse things than corporate accountability. Like a broken leg or something.

I've been discussing the "trickle down" effect with the kiddos....like how the almighty ones shift the blame downward to the lower levels where the frontline warriors fight the battles for them and make 'em look important. Even at 20 and 24 they sense that greath truth to be self evident.

They're a lot quicker than I was, for sure. And that's a GOOD thing.

As I was indulging myself in my favorite Sunday pastime (reading the newspaper in PRINT vs. online ) I ran across a review of this new book by author Suzanne Levine.

Her book is intriguing to me in that I am about to hit the big five OH this year and she describes that age as the beginning of the "second adulthood", for women ages 50 to 75. Levine, a feminist says " We are not the women we were, only older. We have reached the end of our roles. We are no longer primarily daughters, mothers, sisters or good girls." "Statistically , when on your 50th birthday you look back to age 25, you will have the same number of years ahead of you for discoveries, adventures and new relationships."

Ms. Levine, a long-time feminist also says this about our age group: " Individually and collectively, we have challenged the establishment, taken risks and made changes, and along the way we have gained a certain amount of economic authentication and political clout."

This is a great comfort to one mom/daughter/healthcare worker/ex-good girl who finds herself single and looking at the age of 49 and a half. I remember as a young woman covered up with a demanding job and a demanding daughter and a lukewarm marriage wondering what my future held. All of those roles are gone now, and it's just me against the world.

Sitting here poised on the brink of my "second adulthood", I hope that Ms. Levine is right, and that the best is yet to come.

Y'all keep the faith. ^j^

Typical January weather...cold and wet.

Sammy's gettin' traded in a 3 for one deal. Sucks to be him.

Confessed Connecticutt serial killer Michael Ross wants to die and the "system" won't let him. For the record, I'm 100% morally against the death penalty. However, many states have the law on the books and when a man says he's ready to face the music, his "supporters" and legal counsel should step aside and quit playing God.

As for moi? Still keeping the faith. ^j^

Richard Petty impersonator.. 

In honor of the rapidly approaching 2005 Nascar season , I am posting a picture of ONE HAPPY GUY. I've been around the track enough times to know that those couple of months between seasons are like years to fans.

I remember about 3 years ago watching in awe as The Terminator....the one NOBODY thought would ever die, hit the wall. I've seen US Presidents get less respect and mourning than Earnhardt did. Number 3 still rides on the back window or license plate of many a pickup truck.

Gentlemen...Start your engines. ^j^

As y'all know, I'm not much on Bush. I wasn't much on Kerry either, but he got my "hell no I don't like the way things are going" vote that helped paint us as a COUNTRY DIVIDED.

Babygirl called me at work yesterday to tell me how pitiful Dubya looked at a press conference she was watching, and all I could remember was those debates. Sheesh.

That's us, and we're amateurs with an opinion. This lady is no amateur. Ms. Noonan is a staunch Republican and actively campaigned for Bush this past fall. From the hell she's caught from her readers, you'd think she had slept with Osama.

Thus, my rant begins about the great divide. Those words came from a woman who sacrificed much to campaign for her party and dared to offer up some constructive criticism on his inaugual address. As a friend....perhaps a disillusioned one.

I love to read her words, even if we are politically on different wavelengths. What shocked me the most about this particular piece was the venomous response from GOP readers when one of "their own" dared to exhibit something other than total devotion to the whole deal. Be sure and check out the comments link at the end.

That's what's been bugging me...that "I'm right and you're totally wrong" mentality that permeates our country. What the hell ever happened to diversity and the first amendment?

There's this great big paranoid state of mind going around that "they" ( mainstream media) are poisoning our minds with fluff that we accept blindly like spoonfed babies. Thank God somewhere there are journalists brave enough to slip something through when it feels important and take the heat that follows.

^j^

I guess kinda cool is better than very UNCOOL :)

Than a beer(s) and dawgs runnin' outside in the premature spring with the grill fired up. Picture this....a big orange moon risin' as the big orange sun sets. SWEET. Especially for January'n Tenn.

The beautiful thing about the blogosphere is not the clickers or counters or banners but the think of all of it. It's a greatttttt outlet for those who think too much :)

Gotta go work on my blogroll ya'll.

Keep the faith. ^j^

"Notes to Self" :

Make appt. to get glasses so I can continue to SEE at work to pay aforementioned bills.

Be blunt with kid on a regular basis,PRN.

Revert to brunette the natural way..with a good cut of course.

Find a dentist with less expensive offspring.

More later. ^j^

Once again, the case of Terri Schiavo has been kicked back to the state of Florida. The honorable justices decided to punt to Jeb and hope that somebody will discover the humanity in removing a feeding tube from a woman in a "persistent vegitative state". Fourteen years ought to be enough time spent in purgatory for Terri and her husband Michael and her parents.

One quick Google search turned up enough conspiracy theories on this poor woman's predicament to keep CSI busy in all their locations for a year. Her parents believe that Michael wants her to be put to death "prematurely" so that he can inherit her money and marry another woman. Perhaps they could use some closure as well.

Terri suffered a heart attack caused by a low potassium level due to an eating disorder. I'm not a shrink, but I know that eating disorders are normally the by-product of a controlling stressful environment. Same for cutting and other compulsive behaviors. The physiology of it is this: anorexics and bulemics throw up repeatedly and become dehydrated. That blows the electrolytes ( one of which is potassium ) all to hell. That ain't good for the heart. Remember Karen Carpenter.

My take? It doesn't matter how she got where she is. The fact is that she's a political football and that is so inhumane it makes me sicker than a jillion terrorists. She is a lost babe in the middle of the judicial system of this country. If I had a good lawyer joke, I'd throw it out right now, but I'm fresh out.

This kind of situation can be avoided by simply using an ADVANCED HEALTH CARE DIRECTIVE aka Living Will. Forget the link and do a search. Download it, print it and fill it out. Then share it with the people you trust and make sure that they understand and respect your wishes.

It's one of the few liberties that we have left.

^j^

1. Go to work, days 1,2,3,4 & 5.

2. Sleep with dawgs.

3. Continue frugal lifestyle: take lunch, drive only to work, make kid get a job and buy some food.

4. Enjoy reading Reportette, InfinitePink, Randomsoutherner, Jendomain and Raven's Gazette plus Waters and Wendi...Evanovich and Bragg too.

5. Uninstall YaHell.

6. Pray and be general. Kiss more babies and hug more friends.

7. Quit bitchin' about Bush. Doesn't make a damn bit of difference.

8. Watch more movies and less reality.

9. Look for warmer days to play outside.

10.Keep the faith.

^j^

check it out

your healthcare $$ at work 

I must preface my remarks by stating that I'm an old timer in the healthcare biz. The economics of the field astoud me as much today as they did 27 years ago when I entered the workforce. At that point in time, private health insurance paid nicely for private rooms and a several night stay for "diagnostic" purposes. For example, one was admitted for surgery the night before and kept NPO by hospital staff and given nice meds to take the edge off the anxiety. Oh and by the way while you're there, let's check your cholesterol and do an EKG and a pap smear. Health insurance premiums were fully paid by employers for the employee and the entire family.

Fast forward to 2005. Since Tenncare began as a good idea gone bad, I have witnessed the state of the healthcare industry go from nice to worser than worse, both as a consumer AND a practitioner. The beginning of the end started shortly after Tenncare was implemented and the private contractors got greedy. Remember the pharmacy scandal? Somebody should've stopped the show right then. Instead, the program continued to grow until even a lottery couldn't save the state's economic woes from giving away healthcare to a few deserving souls and a whole bunch of folks who abused it.

Case in point: The ER of the rural hospital that I work in is constantly filled with "sick" folks who come there because there Tenncare is accepted rather than to the doc's office who doesn't accept it. Why do they not accept Tenncare? Because it pays only a fraction of their costs and is slow to pay. Historically, providers wait months or years to recoup their money due for treating enrollees. Lots of mismanagement and disorganization have led to distrust of the system by everyone in the state.

I am EMPLOYED in the healthcare industry, and I have no perks. My co-pays on the drugs that I buy monthly are a big part of my budget. I have been known to skip a dentist or doctor's appointment because I can't afford the co-pay. CO-PAY.....mind you. Tenncare recipients, many of them with very small premiums, have thus far been treated to unlimited prescriptions and doctor/hospital/diagnostic visits while the old gal who draws their blood and runs the tests is struggling to survive.

I'm not real good with money or math, but I think it's time for a
change y'all. Maybe if I can get a decent raise I can afford my first lottery ticket.

^j^

There's a few big old floppin' fish in every one you come across. They attract attention like all get out, kinda like the little man with his syndrome. According to my friend Sharry, the little general, it's deadly for a woman to love one. Little man defined is cocky to a fault and hides behind that bravado because he feels small and insignificant as a person. Go figure. The antithesis of the fat girl syndrome.

I've had the pleasure? of a few little men in my life. For the most part they are "da bomb" to everybody in the world but the ones who love and adore 'em. They have trouble expressing emotion or sittin' still and sharing. In short, little man is constantly trying to feel like Big Ike by remaining cool and calm or putting somebody else down to feel larger... He has trouble showing appreciation or realizing when he has been blessed. He usually misses the boat because he's busy elsewhere trying to be BIG.
this story reminds me how hard it is to become big and real and true to one's own heart.

Y'all keep the faith. ^j^

i knew on my way home from the paying job that something was different. the sun's been out for a coupla days and i was long-sleeveless past noon. cruisin' through town this afternoon with the windows open, john mayer was croonin' "somethings....DIFFERENT..and i don't know what it is...."

lo and behold. when i pulled into the driveway there sat babygirl on the front steps with a beer watching the dawgs play, and lovin' it. faith and hope chased each other around and around as the sun melted into orange and yellow and purple and pink over the forked deere backwater.

"that's what i'm sayin". this is what it's all about. babygirl said "are you happy?" yep. not in that "i just won the lottery" or "i don't have cancer" kind of way. i'm just content with what we have.

we talked like the old friends that we are about men and love and life and work and finding a passion. we started over...a new life based on honesty and trust and sharing. after 20 years together, we both know where the other's been so it's time to create some new goals and memories.

by the time the sun went down it was blazing orange and the crows were raising hell. hope was shivering like pups do but knew that outside is where it's happening. that should help with the potty training :)

^j^

beach babes 

Hmm..well. I've never been short on words, but most of 'em are being typed all across the cyber-world so....there. I don't hate Bush or Condi but I hate the war like I hate all wars where we are the control freaks and humanity rambles on. Show me something to believe in as a country, and I'm all over it. Ditto for company policy.

Show me a war where there are more winners than losers. Please show me a conflict that ain't a bizness proposition. I'd love to see more men and women who aren't about their own agenda . That'd be sweet.

Oops..gotta go break up a dawg fight between Hope and Faith. That will be accomplished by Momma going to bed. ( they LUV the electric blanket )

Y'all keep the faith.

^j^

Hmm....well,pardon me PEOPLE, but it ain't Jude Law or George Clooney. I've got this really wild imagination that has conjured up what would be sexy to me. Bear with me.

He's ageless...could be a teenager or a wise old fella, depending on the situation. His hair color changes with the times. Eye color is optional...but they look at me like I'm the only woman alive.

Sexy man is a dreamer...an idealist. There's some artist in there amongst the testosterone that takes the edge offa the guy thing JUST enough to make him vulnerable at the right moments and in touch with himself enough to need nurturing on occasion.

He values me as a person with a great mind and the spirit of a survivor, yet he cherishes me as one would a treasure a family heirloom or a long forgotten dream or a princess. He is loving and giving and able to laugh when even a smile seems impossible. He cries when he is sad.

He's all about fun for fun's sake. Loves his Momma and isn't sure about his Daddy but will get there someday, whenever he grows up. He works hard and plays harder and is looking for a passionate woman with spirit to keep him company day in and day out. With frequent breaks for " self discovery" going both ways.

Jealousy and control are so not sexy it's pathetic. Trust and faith and optimism...that's what appeals to me and makes me feel safe. And feeling safe is the sexiest thing around.

Animal lover....nature boy. Artisan in his own right no matter what the medium.

In other words, all mine.

^j^

Y'all bear with me on the stream of consciousness thang....so very much on my little soon to be brunette mind that I just have to taptaptap. Ya know what they say about idle minds. Not me buddy.

If Oprah and Nate were acting today I'm their biggest fans. If not, well.....I feel their pain. He looked absolutely heartbroken and in shock as did the other survivors. And O was the strong one, once again.

It made me think which is always a good thang. I wondered to myself if I would have the strength to hang on when the waves come roaring in to swallow me up at X point in time. Mostly it made me consider what all miracle babies think about.....why am i here? We are all survivors of one thing or another...
PTSD is a way of life that keeps psychiatric professionals in the biz and their spouses in SUVs.

It is only in the
telling of our stories that we find peace with the past and a realistic attitude about the here and now.

Peace....like a river.

^j^

When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot
Thou hast taught me to say
It is well....it is well with my soul.

It is well
With my soul
It is well, it is well
With...my soul.

Horatio G Spafford, 1873

Passin' by the kitchen window a bit ago, I caught sight of Trapper and Pride talkin' horse speak amongst the falling down fences that surround 'em. You know how they do....snort until the breath is visible and prance around like they're dancing. These two are possibly the luckiest two horses alive today. They have the run of huge pastures with nobody naggin' them with a saddle and bridle. Occasionally when they're REALLY bored, they'll find a hole in the barbed wire and make a run for it. Freedom consists of the field across the road and watching us try to run 'em back in. They snort a lot when we're doing that...and my Daddy hits the fencerows right then lookin' for the escape hatch. Everybody knows they only stay here cuz they like it.
Them two horses can hear Daddy's truck leaving the driveway a mile away and they damn sure know that sweet feed is soon to follow.

Fifteen years ago, I returned to my homeplace.....a sprawling 1100 acre farm bordered by the Forked Deere river. I figured it would be a magical place to raise my Babygirl and I was right. Now 20 she has oodles of tales to remember and tell about country life and critters and the freedom of not being fenced in by other houses. Only other house on the dead end road is inhabited by her boyfriend....how sweet is THAT?

Not too long after we moved here, one of the horses got the bellyache like they do when they eat too much green stuff in spring. Rolled alllll around that pasture in pain and was bloated to boot. Time for the vet? Nah. Daddy called old Martin Ware to come do the horse doctorin'. Martin was a 90+ year old black man who had lived for years in our rural paradise in an old school bus on the main road. A renowned horse trainer/doctor/whisperer he loved nothing better than pulling out his secret "Nevah' mind" to do his magic with a sick horse.

The day he showed up I was home alone and he needed some help. I trekked out to the ancient barn with him and waded through the horse crap to where he was calling Trapper closer. Martin had the magic in a paper bag hanging out of his coat pocket. His hat was stuffed down over his old head as he peered through his glasses at the hoss. "You got any matches, Missy?" Back to the house for me to find some fire.

Shortly he poured something flammable ( kerosene maybe? ) over one hoof and lit the stuff while he held Trapper's leg at the joint. "Ha...Heeee". Now Trapper's an ornery horse, but he never moved while this fire was burnin' on his upturned hoof. When the flame on that one was out, we repeated the process with the other one.

Next was the "Nevah' mind." Martin pulled the ragged paper bag out of his pocket and extracted the contents. Looked like alum to me. And some sugar.....but never mind. This was HIS magic show. He mixed carefully measured amounts of each ingredient and fed Trapper the concoction from his open palm. And then, he left.

My very-busy-with-real-life-self scurried back to the house to continue with what, I can't exactly remember. Wasn't important, I'm sure. The horse continued to roll in pain and whinny for another 24 hours and then abruptly, it stopped.

I saw ole Martin now and then after that....at the store sometimes or out and about. He died after close to a century here on earth travelling all over the country by horse doin' his thang.
Somehow I believe that the secret to that long happy life was "never mind".

^j^

hope 

Everyone who has ever suffered a loss of any kind, be it a death or divorce or life change like moving or gettin' a new job can tell you that the only thing that is inevitable is change. People move in and out of our lives as if being weaved into the tapestry of our souls by a cosmic seamstress.

Elisabeth Kubler Ross is my hero as a teacher mentor in loss and grief. Her simplistic definition of the stages has helped me to help myself, and to help others along the way. Every amateur psychologist the world over has grasped her wisdom and spread it with love.

My EX called that "f--ing analyzing him". I called it trying to understand him. And so, after 20 hard years we parted ways with a beautiful daughter between us. I had hoped that it would be friendly and filled with communication about our issues past and present. It turned out to be neither. Three years later I still wonder how I got here and where I'm going.

There is a point with every loss/change/life event where one hears the bell finally toll and knows that the next chapter is about to begin. Diggin' through the mud turns into a comfort found in each day and the gifts. It's called peace.

My Mom and brother brought me an amaryllis bulb back in early December as a living Advent calendar. If finally bloomed this weekend with not one but TWO bloom stalks covered with brilliant red flowers. ( and that was after Faith strowed the infant growth plus dirt all over the living room floor). Wish you could see it. It's awesome.

The most marvelous thing about that gift is that it will keep on giving.

Happy Birthday MLK and Bubba :)

Y'all keep the faith, ya hear?

first pup 

Oh my...it seems that a Memphis reporter has ruffled the feathers of Mayor Willie Herenton by touching his elbow at a Rotary Club meeting and generally being pushy with straight questions to his honorable mayor. Tsk Tsk. Too bad for Cameron....he's OFF the good list. Cut. Nada. No more invitations to important bizness.

On a lighter dog lover's note, there's always the reports of Miss Beazley peeing on the carpet in the Oval Office. Nothin' like a pup to remind one how hard it is to raise a village.

^j^

With my daughter and her young twenty something friends "WORD" is an expression used kinda like "Amen" or "Testify" brother! It indicates an understanding of what's being said and implies agreement.

Too bad Junior
isn't familiar with the term. He seems all too capable of continuing to open his mouth and say sublimely stupid things at the worst possible moment.

Bring em on MY ASS! Dubya's war is one in which OUR service people are supposedly freeing the Iraqi people from oppression and delivering to them the ability to "vote" for someone who will no doubt be asassinated by the time the votes are counted. Of course the Sunnis won't GET to vote, but hey..

Why then, do these very people who are being miraculously rescued by our troops helping their imprisoned countrymen ( aka the bad guys ) ESCCAPE?

Jeez...I may be blonde, but this just sez to me that we can't tell the good guys from the bad guys. Within our own borders, we have trouble with that. What makes us think it will be different in another country halfway across the world where it's a sure ticket to Allah's heaven to blow people to smithereens?

If Bush had had his physical when he was supposed to, maybe he could see the light a bit more clearly.

WORD ^j^

quack 

No title this evening y'all....just some honest reflection. ^j^

Umm..well it's a premature Poopie version of the state of the union address. News flash y'all. There IS NO UNION. We're split about evenly on this war thang and much more so on other thangs like healthcare and drug companies and stem cell research and congressional junkets with girlfriends/drinkin' buddies and personal decision making. I have a personal problem with expensive gowns for a party at the Emperor's place when our soldiers don't have what they need to defend themselves.

Therefore and where for art thou...we should be ( collectively as a nation of hell raisers ) dayum pissed about the
state of things in this great country of ours. Teachers rock, OK? They're not the future though. Parents are the future, if they get out there and go for it and do what the Big Guy called 'em to do they're the future of this country and of the American Family. What a novel idea!

Faith has her Hooter's t-shirt on and Hope has on a Onesie. Delightfully tacky.....yet unrefined.

^j^

Big Faith and little Hope have had a lovely evening playin' tugz with a teddy bear. They're calling it a tie. Big beautiful choco girl has the teddy bear outside and the tiddy baby is asleep in the clothes basket.

Their momma is at peace with the world at last....ready to move on. It's been a long 3 years for her and her dreams of true love. Nothin' much ever panned out there, so she's moving on. She always was a slow learner with the man thing. She read the book and learned that they're from
Mars and love the cave.

Over and out....and keep the faith. ^j^

Something is terribly amiss here in the burg. I think we need
Quincy
or one of the redheads to solve the mystery. Everyone knows that forensics is hot stuff.

There's blood and guts and all kinds of gory stuff. Needles. Smears. Staining. DNA for gosh sakes. DNA!

Love, lust ...maragaritas.

It's bound to be a hit until American Idol comes back anyway.

^j^

no comment 

Well folks...all our grandmas told us the truth. What goes around comes around eventually. There's a lot of conflict about the arrest of elderlyEdgar Ray Killen for the murders of three young civil rights workers in 1964. Folks in Mississippi don't want to "open old wounds" and don't see the point in" dragging up all that history. "

Hmm...I bet not. It might interrupt the mint julep sessions or something. According to the FBI, Killen not only participated in but did the majority of the planning for this horrific crime that was a product of his Klan mentality. I remember watching the movie " Mississippi Burning " and reeling from the horror of it.

Northerners cannot relate to the pain that us progressive Southerners felt while our friends and neighbors continued to say the "N" word and fight segregation with sheets and flames and crosses. We were embarrassed, afraid, and horrified. We lived our lives differently because of it.

Y'all keep the faith, and never forget the past. ^j^

Whoa. I wish it was like the United Way where you could designate your $$ and renew your pledge every year. That would cut out all that special interest crap.

I'd pledge mine for hospice care and after school programs, locally managed. Day care for Alzheimer's patients. Counseling for pregnant teens * without the guilt. Better war stuff for the folks in Iraq.

As it stands, my federal money will go to Bubya's upped ante in Asia and his next vacation'n TX. I'll use my refund to kinda sorta find my way out of this year's debt and call it even.

Three and 3/4 years later, hopefully the Dems will offer up a candidate that can be more than a default choice. That's my hope, anyways.

Could it be a Republican????? Oh My.

Y'a'll get your partisan acts together and keep the faith. ^j^

Like you, I'm amazed at the emptying out of pockets to provide aid for tsunami victims. Unlike you, that doesn't give me the warm fuzzies. It simply makes me wonder why we wait until disaster strikes to lend a humanitarian hand.

Case in point: As a blood banker, I was witness to a hysterical response by Americans in the days following the WTC bombings to do something by donating blood. The majority of America's blood centers ( with the exception of the American Red Cross ) spent that time explaining the 42 day life span of a donated red blood cell and asking folks to come back later. In fact, very few of them have. On any given day of any month or year 5 percent of this country's population donates blood to support the needs of the other 95 percent. The only way that this is logistically possible is that donors can roll up their sleeves every 56 days and most of 'em are regulars.

And so, when disaster strikes we are unprepared because we do not give from a sense of doing the right thing for others, but from a need to be a hero.The number of orphans in Africa far surpasses those in tsunami stricken areas due to the ravages of HIV for 20 years. Children in this country go to bed hungry and alone each and every night because they and their parents have "fallen into the cracks" between the haves and the have nots.

Don't mistake my motives here. I was just as awed by the power of tsunami as anyone else. But I also wish we could be a bit more proactive in our relief efforts to everyone everywhere instead of waiting for "the big one" to get offa our butts.

Y'all keep the faith. ^j^

^j^ 

Y'all are ALL invited! Bring your ears and shoulders to cry on and your best jokes. The way I figure it, we can console each other and commiserate ( thank u alan ) and bitch and moan and groan and feel better about the cards we've been dealt and have a group hug.

I've always been one of those gals who asked "why". Must be the scientific mind and all that. The trouble with that is, that science only applies to physical laws. Emotions and such are not governed by theories and calculations and hypotheses. They're just raw energy waiting to take a form through expression.

Sometimes it's scary....oftentimes it hurts like a motha. But then SOMETIMES it's pure bliss. Sometimes there is no answer to "why". It just is. Embracing that great truth brings a lot of relief to deep thinkers and cosmic wonderers. A shift in perspective from "why" to "what is" can be viewed as freedom from the past and the future and joy in the present. It's the beginning of a smile that progresses to a giggle that slowly works up to a belly laff that makes the tears roll and Depends a MUST.

In honor of my transition from victim to happy soul, I invite you all to bring your friends and tell me your drama. Once it's expressed, well...heck. That diminishes the power of the angst by 10 to the third power.

Y'all keep the faith. ^j^

How many doctors does it take to change a lightbulb? One can do it with the right team behind 'em. What if the bulb breaks and the doc needs an x-ray tech? How about if the lightbulb's kidneys are shot or the electrolytes are out of balance of the blood gases are kaput? Who's changing that lightbulb's bedpan anyhow?????

Heaven forbid the doctor should make a mistake. Then he/she/it must find someone to blame for it from within the vast support system that makes the practice of medicine possible and safe and all that.

As healthcare consumers, we need to get a grip on that stuff. They make mistakes.....and are definitely not God. There's this little " do no harm" thing that they all swear to live by. Sometimes shit happens. But when it does......by God they need to say "I'm sorry....I fucked up" instead of looking for someone to lay blame on.

I just had to vent y'all. At least I gave the war mongers a break.

^j^

"they" say that those are virtues. if so, i'm one heck of a virtuous woman . not that many guys are looking for that these days...but hey, that's me.

i remember once, long ago in another life. i made the pilgrimage to a festival where there were many southern writers mingling with their readers and writer wannabes. it was there that i discovered a lil' tune called walkin' across egypt that is on my funeral list. i even learned to play it on the piano.

much later in life....as an old divorced gal, i learned the joy of readin' about lula and stepahanie and company. grandma mazur is my fav....i can picture me hittin' the funeral homes as an ancient gal.

i could go on and on but i won't. i'll just concentrate on writing that book that was influenced by so many writers before me.

and of course, i'll keep the faith. ^j^

Yep....it's me again. The anti-war nag. I dunno how you know who managed it, but I figure that tsunami was a stealth move to divert attention to what's going on you know where. Probably the Secret Service helped pull it off. And the CIA.

Seriously folks, we are a solid year into the conflict. Which, by the way....began as a default move from folks who were pressed to "do something" , supposedly to pacify the Americans who were pissed over 9/11. Now, excuse me cuz I'm blonde....but:

What the heck does Iraq have to do with Osama and 9/11?

How long is long enough to say "enough"? If the election goes belly up this time around, do we reschedule for 6 months and send a few more of our kids and neighbors to get blown up by car bombs?

If I burn my bra will it make a difference?

For those of you who are into numbers this man has them. Read them and weep.

As always, keep the faith. ^j^

hard at work 

This afternoon after work I treated myself to a movie in the privacy of my viewing room ( the living room full of dawgs and cats) Watching “Miss Congeniality” lifted my spirits somewhat as I feel a cosmic connection with most every character Bullock has ever played. Most of em are screw ups who are every guy’s buddy and nobody’s girlfriend.

If I were in a beauty pageant, my talent would probably be “critter doctoring”. My latest challenge in this department has been peroxidizing a wound on the yellow crack headed cat and getting liquid Amoxil through his clenched shut kitty mouth. He’ll thank me with a gracious leap across all my bedroom furniture when he’s all healed up. Dunno what the heck he got into it with, but the opposition won.

Since I don’t have health insurance for the critters ( barely manage the premiums for myself…and I WORK there ) I take the grass roots approach with leftover meds from previous human illnesses. Go figure what we could do in a country like Indonesia if the drug companies got off of a buck. Of course the Emperor and folks at the RWBH might object

Healthcare providers with a global vision might want to check out Doctors Without Borders. It's all about folks who see their living as a vocation and spread it around the world.

P.S. You know you're a geek when you're studying HTML instead of chasing men ( compliments of Jennifer ) Thanks for sharing :)

Y'all keep the faith. ^j^

awwwwwwwwwwww 

Alas, I find myself with the holidays over and still no greetings sent! I thought I would depart from the usual Hallmark decorum this season and share with you the bright spots of my year. After all, if you weren’t a reader, you wouldn’t be here :) In that spirit, I present to you my cyberfriends in all their glory…..plus a pic of the Burberry brindle baby sans Christmas bow. Also I am happy to report that I have propane to keep me warm when it gets cold again and to cook with. I missed the cookin’ way more than the heat.

The rain is pitty patting softly through open windows, so ….all in all, it’s a Happy New Year.

Takin' HTML lessons.....I'll get back to ya.

Y’all enjoy 2005 and Keep the Faith. ^j^