Monday, October 31, 2011
She has shown us all manner of wildlife in Australia. She even takes photos of goannas and snakes. However this snake was a seven foot python. It was on the top shelf of her pantry. In the house.
She points out that the snake is not venomous.
I point out, once again, that it was seven foot long and on the top shelf of her pantry. In the house. INSIDE the house!
She pointed out that it was pretty placid.
I'm starting to worry about her mind people. I will point out once again, that it was seven feet long and on the top shelf of her pantry. Inside. the. house.
There are little details of this story which are disturbing to me. Now BB is a fairly tall drink of woman, but my question is, can she see the top shelf of her pantry, or is she like me in that she gropes blindly, locating what she's looking for by feel? And if you, in the course of grabbing the tumeric or the coriander, grab yourself a seven foot python, I want to point out that python is not listed as a substitution for any cooking ingredient that I am aware of.
Allow me also to say that if I ever reached up on the top shelf of my pantry and grabbed a seven foot python, I would have immediately peed my pants and then dropped over dead on the spot. Yes. This is correct. I am sure that at some point there would have been the scream heard round the world, but then I would be history, on my way to meet Jesus wearing wet pants.
Another little detail of the story is that apparently he made quite a mess up there, knocking things over and such. But it also is pointed out that the placid little fellow was not housebroken. Now that brings up another picture. Seven foot python...just how big...oh...never mind...
Anyways, I think that you want to hie over to her blog right now and demand that she post that story with its accompanying pictures. Demand it I say!
Sunday, October 30, 2011
After church, I went to work. We were busy today decorating for Christmas. (Yikes!) Despite my misgivings about the earliness of all of this, I still wore my Santa hat.
A couple from down the road came in. He likes to give me grief. Once last year, I priced a pink Carhartt coat for a woman, and stupidly forgot to void the thing after I priced it. Lo, he was my unfortunate next customer who was a bit startled to find himself being charged for a pink coat. He's never let me forget my mistake, and I've never ceased to tell him that I think he just ought to give in and buy himself that pink coat, because I know how badly he wants it. His wife is a hoot too, and we generally get kind of uproarious when we get a chance. Today, we were out of the drill bit he wanted, so we took one out of our store drill, told him to bring it back when he was done. He was a bit surprised by that.
"That's how the store makes up for having cashiers like me," I quipped. He laughed, but his wife said, "ALL the cashiers should be like you," she said. I cocked my head and said, "Are you angling for more free stuff?" We all laughed. We have some pink TSC hats. If those things ever go on sale, I swear I'm going to buy one and hang it on their front door. They will know exactly where it came from.
So it was a busy day, and a nice day, as usual, shooting the breeze with everyone.
It's 11 now, and my homework is done. I'll leave you with a question: Who do you think the ninny was that forgot to buy more computer paper? Who do you think can't print out her homework? *sigh* Never fails. There's always some stinking stupid thing...
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Now that's interesting. I asked him how the dog was doing. It's a pit bull. Sometimes an animal just doesn't recover from treatment like that, and it had spent most of it's three years in a cage. "Oh, that dog is wonderful. She has two acres to run on, and she is the biggest baby you ever saw. When I get home from work, she's so glad to see me. She jumps up on my lap and leans up against me." I told him I'd like to meet her sometime, that he should bring her in. And he went out the door with nearly $100 in dog supplies, and it made me glad.
Another fellow came in and he bought a big bag of dog food and cat food up to the counter. He paid with a check. I noticed the address on the check, that we lived on the same road. He lived some miles away though. I thought. I said, "Are you the folks with the Australian Shepherds?" He wasn't, but they have rescue dogs. They collect dogs from humane societies, dogs that nobody else wants. Old dogs, handicapped dogs, abused dogs. They have an electric fence system set up, and the dogs are free to run. One of the dogs is blind, and they've set it up with gravelled boundaries, so that the blind dog can tell where he's at. They have a rescue cat, and they have horses too.
I like that. I like knowing that there are people in the world like that. I also like that I work at a store where I meet folks like that on a regular basis.
Oh. And I had a test today. I think that I rocked it.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Well, my beloved 'gimpy' has been home since Wednesday.
We have a woodfire going.
I do not think so.
Oh, and PS. It is snowing today. Bill posted a picture of Kalib on his daddy's shoulders in the first snow. Look at the wonder and joy on that child's face. Adorable.
The look on my face contains no wonder. No joy either. Just saying.
Unless of course, you are talking about the fire.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
I am about to do my first round of field work. I was lucky enough that I was picked for a position very close to home. As a matter of fact, the facility is next door to one of our rentals, on the same street as the new house. I had the name of the occupational therapist there, and I was supposed to contact her. Coming home from school, I dropped off a bag of dog biscuits for some friends, and then headed into town to meet Tim at the doctor's office. I had about 15 minutes, so on the spur of the moment, I decided to drop in to the facility, and leave my home telephone with the reception desk. That way the occupational therapist could call me at home, and we could set up a meeting. The receptionists told me to wait, because they were very sure that she'd want to see me.
And so I did.
A wheeled cart came by and I stepped out of the way. I looked up and into the smiling face of 'Goof' a guy that Tim and I used to work with at the factory where I was a janitor when I moved back to the area 15 years ago, during my family's hard times. It was great to see him, and we blabbed a while.
A smiling woman strode towards me saying, "Debby?" and I turned and saw a familiar face, a regular customer at the store. I was shocked, because I did not know what she did for a living.
She looked surprised too. "Where do I know you from?" I told her.
She said, "Of course!" and she was so glad that I was a little speechless (not a common thing for me). She looked at me and she said, "You are going to be perfect!" and she told me that I was funny and friendly and adaptable. She'd noticed this from watching me interact with people at the store.
You know, some days are discouraging. Other days are encouraging.
I felt as if, today, that all my yesterdays came together. As the three of us stood talking, Goof talked about our days at the factory, and of following my column to keep up with us. My new temporary boss was so excited to be my mentor that it just made me glad. At the end of our short visit, she gave me a hug. This woman doesn't know the doubting of my heart, but she tells me that 'I have what it takes'.
Know what? I believed her. I looked at her, and I had no doubt that I have what it takes.
I left there, and went to the doctor's office with Tim.
As I write this, PBS' Independent Lens comes on. Much to my surprise, I hear names I recognize, and I turn to see Cara's friend on TV. How strange is THAT?
Then I got a little ornery.
I was still a little ornery when he came to the store at about noon. "You can't just ignore this Tim. Something is really wrong here, and Physical Therapy is making it worse, not better. You need to..." and he interrupted to say, "I'm not going to work today, and I'm going to make a doctor's appointment. I think that I'll wind up taking temporary disability until we figure out what this is."
My temper tantrum worked. (Payoff?!!) It usually doesn't go like that.
You know, I think that I have reached a turning point at school. I've been struggling to get a handle on Bobath and Brunnstrom and Rood and PNF and NDT and last night, going over the stuff yet again, I began to see it. I found videos on line, and watched the therapies on actual patients. I felt as if the pieces had begun to fit together. For the first time, I realized that I was going to graduate from this course. I mean, that's been the goal, always, but I always felt as if that could be snatched away from me at any given moment.
But it can't.
I've worked hard, and it is coming together, and in May, I'll graduate.
Monday, October 24, 2011
I said, "Tim, really, we need to hire professional movers. There is just no way to get this all done. Thanksgiving is coming, and it's chaos, just chaos, and what if it's Thanksgiving and I(gasp of horror) DON'T KNOW WHERE MY TURKEY ROASTER IS?"
Of course he looked at me like I'd sprouted an extra head. "We don't need to worry about that right now," he tells me.
Our livingroom outfit is in the new house. The dining room set is here. The stove is here. Most of the dishes are there. I've taken all my office books there. My desk is here. You get the picture, right?
It's kind of like school though. I worry about every assignment. I worry about every test. I feel stupid, and I worry. Sometimes, I am actually sick with fear. But when it comes down to it, well...I do okay. Usually, I do better than okay.
A woman is dealing with cancer, and the husband said, "We'll have to make a decision about chemo, and we have to..." I recognized the disbelief and the 'deer in the headlights look', the look of someone just coming to grips with the whole concept. I wrote him a little note. "Don't look at the big picture," I said. "You can't. It's overwhelming. We are not designed for that. The big picture is God's perspective. Just look at things one day at a time. The worries of the day are sufficient. One day at a time, you'll get through this."
Sounds pretty wise, doesn't it? One day at a time. Don't try to look at the whole thing. I'm a fine one to be giving advice, don't you think?
So tonight, I took another load of stuff down to the new house. I put the dishes away. I brought the empty boxes home. I'll fill them up again before I go to bed, and tomorrow, Tim will haul another load down, light stuff. A carload at a time, we'll get it done. One day at a time, I'll get through school.
Maybe, before this is all over, I'll learn to walk the walk, not just talk the talk.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
And I answered, "No. Remember? I just borrowed yours when I needed them. I'm afraid to sign keys out anymore, and if I have to, I note exactly which ones I took, because I'm afraid that people will think that I did something stupid." Which is valid. Keys come up gone on a regular basis there. They're gone, we do a major search, we find 'em. But it's driving our poor manager nuts.
Anyhoo, Matt said, "Oh, yeah. You were using mine. Let me talk to Pete." And that's the last I heard of it.
I walked into work the other day, and saw the manager, and called out, "So did they find those keys?" and he said, in a very unhappy voice, "No. They did not." But it turns out that the other set of keys which had been missing had been found, in another cashier's apron. Good news. Good news. I pulled my apron out of my locker and said, "I did not sign out keys on freight day..." and lo. My apron felt heavy. With a sick feeling I reached in the pocket. Yep. One set of keys. Oh, the boss was a happy man.
I'm glad I could make his day, but this still boggles my mind. I have not the foggiest clue how those keys ended up in my apron pocket, because I did not take keys from the key box. That was mortifying to be running my mouth. "No, I don't have keys. Not me..." and then pull the stinking things out of my pocket.
Oh well. It makes a good question for the Tractor Supply Trivia Game I am putting together for the Christmas party.
Friday, October 21, 2011
I'd headed down to pick up Dylan from wrestling practice. He was 16 and just got his permit, so he was driving. We watched the firetrucks go speeding past as we waited to turn right at the stop sign at the top of the hill. "Oh," I said. "Somebody's got a fire. We should pray for them, whoever they are." And Dylan turns right, and we are following the fire trucks. They begin slowing down where we'd be slowing down. Much to my shock, the firetrucks pull in our driveway. There is a flagman standing in the middle of the road flagging us through, and getting a bit impatient because we had just stopped. He angrily snapped his flashlight, motioning us to get going. I leapt from the car, and said, "This is our house!" to the flagman and ran through the front yard.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Well. Shut me right up. Of course the man had trouble hearing, and here I was convinced that he was simply ignoring me, and I felt pretty bad about myself and my wife-liness. Or lack there-of.
Last night, I put together a strata which has to refrigerate over night before you bake it, and I used a lot of onion and green pepper and some nice venison sausage and eggs and cheddar cheese. I got up this morning and baked it while I was getting ready for school. I said to Tim, "This is finished, and all you'll have to do is warm yourself a slice of it up in the microwave for lunch. I can't put it in the fridge, because it's too hot from the oven. Don't leave it sit out all day. Put it away once it cools down enough..." and he said he would and out the door I went.
I got home tonight, and half a strata was sitting on the stove where I left it.
Don't feel nearly as bad about myself and my wife-liness.
Tim? You need to do some more work on that ear.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The old brass hardware was taken off the door, and padlocks placed on it when the place was foreclosed up. The locks and knobs were all placed in a pile. Looking around, Tim found a ring full of skeleton keys. He had a hunch, and his hunch was right. He painstakingly took the lock all apart, and reassembled it, and it worked. Only problem? This isn't a key you can get duplicated by walking into Lowes.
Just seems really real that we are moving. My sister came up to help pack, and we went from one room to another, boxing things up, taking pictures off the wall, finding memories tucked away in drawers, sealing these things up in boxes for their trip out of the woods, I was surprised to discover that for all my excitement about the move, I was feeling a little sad, too. I was glad for the company of my sister.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Justin is our neighbor at the new house. We like Justin a lot. He is an amiable kid, very good natured, a hard worker. He has been Tim's right hand man for the last few weeks, and this is a good thing. Tim needs him badly.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Two fireman came in, pricing snow fence. I gave them the price, and they sighed, "Well, it's back to Lowe's then." Their price was three dollars lower, and every dollar counts for the small volunteer fire departments. "Stop right there," I commanded. "You're not going anyplace. We do price matching." And they stayed put and bought three rolls of fencing and blabbed a while too.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
So when the manager said, "We're just going to have to pull an all nighter and get that display set up," I looked around the room, and I saw some weary, weary faces. "I can do it after school on Wednesday," and the boss took me up on it. The new girl, Sam, volunteered to help get the 5 pallets of stuff up on shelves too.
I went dragging into work last night at 7 PM. I was tired. I'd fallen asleep on the couch after coming home from the practical and getting Tim off to work, and it had taken everything in my power to get up and moving. Bob looked at me. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Why?" I mumbled. "Your eyes are bloodshot." I assured him that I hadn't been drinking or doing drugs. "I just woke up," I said.
Anyways, a woman comes along. She's a tall, skinny woman, a good looking woman. Kind of scary looking, tattooed, doesn't take any nonsense. She admires me greatly, because she was there at the store the day I told an ignorant, loud, and vulgar customer to get out of my store or I'd call the police. She liked that a lot. I think that she thought when I tore out around my counter after him that I was going to kick his butt. I wasn't. I was just making sure that he did not lay a hand on that boy of his.
Anyhow, I digress. She motions me over, and I burst out laughing. There, nestled in her cleavage, were two of the tiniest bunnies you ever saw in your life. They looked content, half asleep. Their little ears twitched when I spoke, and their eyes opened a moment or two. Turns out she'd stopped to make a purchase with some Amish, and they had these bunnies for sale. She was sure that they were not old enough to be weaned. She felt so sorry for the tiny things she took them on the spot. She stopped by the store, and was buying all manner of things for bunnies. I helped her load up her cart.
Anyhow, she pulls her cart up to the register, and she's standing there at the front of the cart. There's a tiny old lady in front of her standing behind hers. The old lady squinted, and then peered closely at the woman's chest. She exclaimed, "Oh my goodness! Are those real?"
There was a guy passing by whose head just about pivoted off his shoulders.
I about fell on the floor laughing.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Imagine my horror to discover that we needed a 'works cited' page. It did not say that in our written instructions, but she had told us, and somehow I missed that. I did not think of it in term of a paper were were handing in, but a tool for our own use. One that was going to be graded. There was no way to figure out where all of those pictures had come from. Not at this point. I was pretty upset at myself.
Yesterday, I worked on those cards and I knew that I would get a poor grade on them, despite my hard work. It was my own fault, but I'd been studying too hard to go back and do them all over again. Cara IM'ed, and I told her about my project. About the poor grade I was expecting to receive. 'I didn't care,' I said. I'd been studying for this practical, and I had to be at work at 5 in the morning. 'Too late to change it now,' I said.
Cara proceeded to read me the riot act.
Long story short. I got up at 5 AM. I worked until 1. I came home and the two weeks of work? I did it ALL over again in one very long night. I redid all my pictures from one website online, and just for good measure, double checked my measurement information. It's midnight. Tomorrow I'll get up early, run to Walmart to get laminating sheets, and then I laminate it all before I turn it in tomorrow, while I'm waiting to take the second part of my practical.
I'm tired, but I am not too tired to point this one out: Cara? I have never read you the riot act about your school work. Just saying.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Today, it snowed. On the second day of October.
And Cara, I have a question? Just what the flip am I supposed to do with the half gallon of spicey kimche taking up most of the top shelf of the refrigerator?
I spent the day studying. I'm burned out. Tomorrow is the first day of our practicals.
Discovered this weekend that we are losing not one, but two tenants. *eek!*
The appraiser is coming tomorrow morning. Tim will have to handle that one. The house is semiorganized, sort of tidy, sort of vacuumed, and sort of ready.
I will admit. I am just the slightest bit edgy. Okay. I admit it. One misstep, and I topple right over the edge.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
My legs are bad today. Very bad. I can scarcely walk. Cold does seem to make things worse, so I am hopeful that things settle down before I have to go to work.
Today's a new day, one step farther away from the chaos of yesterday. Apparently being sensitive to the differences applies only to OTs and their patients. It does not apply to OT professors towards their students. My note was designed to not call attention to myself or my position in a classroom setting. She read it on the way up front, and she was angry. I knew that much. So did the rest of the class. The session in the office was not good. I am insubordinate, she does not like my demeanor, all the professors have noticed it, and she doubts my fitness to do fieldwork, anticipating that my superiors will have problems with me and my attitude. I was proud of my behavior in the office, anyway. I did not cry, although I very much wanted to. She could not provide any examples of my insubordinate behavior except one: A professor was having problems with the class, and I put a note on the test we were taking saying that her rules were different than Heather and Sarah's rules, and that she needed to let people know what she expected from them. "Who do you think you are? What gave you the right to speak to this teacher directly?" The hierarchy is that I need to bring all situations to the attention of the department heads who will address that teacher. I listened. It was not my goal to embarrass the teacher professionally. I did not think it was important enough to bring her superiors in to counsel her. I tried to explain this, but it was explained to me that I am a student and have no right to counsel my teachers. That is not my place. That is not my position.
After leaving, I had a good cry. But I know how it is now. There will be absolutely no more differences of opinions with my teachers. I will keep my mouth shut, and I will do the work. I will graduate.
But they will not mail the letter. That is my choice.