Santa and the simple times

Its that time of year again.  Funny how it comes and goes in the blink of an eye.  Everyone running around like there is not going to be a tomorrow, only to get all that they want done by that fateful day. 
For some reason the real meaning of this time of year has disappeared.  The want for material things has taken over and made everyone greedy.   Children now expect things like I Pods, TVs, Game consoles and Computers all which cost as much as most working people make working a full work week if not more. 
The children of today have no idea of the meaning of a dollar.  It use to buy so much.  Today, you can barely buy a cup of coffee for that 100 pennies.

My idea of what Christmas means has changed over the years.  It used to be so much fun being around my family and friends for the holiday week.   We would go out and have fun in the snow, skiing, sledding, and just having snow ball fights.  It was so much fun.  Everyone would end up in the house at the end of the day wet, cold and tired, but smiling and laughing about all the things we had done.

The first part of December we would all pile in the car or truck and head for the bush to find a tree.  We would trudge through the snow for what was the perfect tree.  Funny, no matter what the tree looked like when we got it home, it was beautiful.... the tree would sit in the corner of the living room for a day to warm up and let the branches relax.  Then the fun started.

Dad's job was to put the lights on the tree.  Each had to be placed just so.  He had three little girls(at least till my brother came along 16 years later) telling him where the open holes were that needed to be filled.  Then when the lights were all placed and the garland was wrapped around the tree, it was our turn.

We got to put all the decorations on the tree.  Mom would drag out the boxes of glass balls that she would put the wire hooks through and hand to us for careful(ya right) placement on the tree.  Hand made decorations were added at the end, and other things that  we had put together, like strung popcorn and candy canes....then it was Mom's turn.

Mom would carefully place each and every strand of tinsel on the tree, one or two at a time.  She took great care in placing them just so to make the most of its beauty.  Mom would move some of the tinsel around to make sure there was no holes.   Then the Angel or Star was placed on the top.  We would stand back and admire our accomplishment. 

Over the next two weeks presents would appear under the tree.  We were not allowed to dig under there, but always managed to find the ones that had our names on them.  Our own special stockings with our names on them would be put out, either on the mantle, or on the back of the couch.  Then  night would arrive and we would be in bed early and up just as early the next morning.  I was always the first out of bed and still am.  Out to the living room to find the stockings and be awed by what we would find.  We were allowed to take our stockings back to our beds and dig through our wonderful stuff.  We always had candy, candy canes, Japanese oranges (or clementines as they are known here).  The oranges were special as we could only get them during the month of December.  Special little things were always in the bottom.  The giggling and play would start and mom and dad would get up.

We were lucky.  Mom and Dad allowed us to open our gifts before we had breakfast.  Most of my friends were not that lucky.  We would pass all the gifts around and then when they were all out from under the tree, we would start tearing.  Mom and Dad would sit there and smile till we were done.  They opened theirs when were done.  I can remember the old camera that mom used to take pictures while we were buried in paper and boxes.  Home made gifts, scarves, mitts, socks, clothes were wonderful to receive.  We always got a new outfit, new shoes and toys.  We were not rich by any means, but no matter what was there, we thought we were lucky.   We had a ball.  We did everything together.

After all the Christmas day hubbub came Boxing Day.  That was the day everyone you knew either got a visit from us or they came to our house.  Everyone showing what they had been lucky enough to get.  The special doll, outfit or other item.  Back then no one got tons of stuff.   There were items that made you happy.  It was a time of happiness, love and hope that the new year would bring health and joy to everyone.

Like I said earlier, we were not rich, but we were rich in what we had in each other.  Our family has always been fantastic, fun and people have always wanted to be around us when were together.  We have a great time and to us there is nothing more important than family.  Things are just that.  Lets get back to the simple times.

Helpless and scared, a life without computers

Have you ever felt helpless?  Did you want to do everything you could to help and couldn't?  Do you have more than one computer, phone or electronic gadget in your home and life. Well I have, I did and yes I do.

One of the worst things that has ever come into my life, was the computer.  Not for the reasons you may think.  Most people would think it is because I hate working with them.  I am on them all the time when I am at work, putting in tons of information and looking up multiple things on most people.  You see I'm a nurse.  That is part of my normal daily routine while working.  The computer supplies me with the information I need to do a great job of taking care of my patients.  Problem is when something is omitted from that information.  That is when the problems arise.  I am lucky, over the years, I have learned to trust my gut instincts.

When we arrive at work, the first thing we do is cuss at the computer, because it will not do what we want it to.  We try to enter the names of the patients that we will be caring for during that shift.  For some reason, there is usually some swearing and huffing and puffing associated with that task.  Then the report is received from the off going nurse.  Now the work starts.

We trudge from room to room with a cheery smile and dragging a cart that is our "Mobile work station" or what used to be our "COW" ( computer on wheels).  That name was quickly changed when a pleasantly drugged patient thought we were talking about her when someone said "get that cow out of the hallway".  HAHAHAHAHA good glory, people can be so self absorbed.  Anyway, we drag these lovely machines in and out of each and every patients room.  Our medications are passed and scanned with the aid of a documentation program.  Our dressings and medications are all carried in these lovely machines. 

Any hoo I digress.  Not sure what we did before all these contraptions.  Nursing was so much simpler back then.  You looked things up in the chart, not the computer.  The doctors actually spoke to you not through you.  The reports were read and entered into the charts.  Now everything is black and white and on a screen in front of you. 

Funny, I never thought I would ever have a computer of my own, till we started our business.  OMG, now I have two lap tops, two desk tops, two phones that are Internet accessible, and an I Pod that can get on line.  When does it stop.  The technology of today is so vast and overwhelming. 

I spoke to one friend of mine today that said that she did not have a computer, and had no intentions of getting one anytime soon.  She also runs her business on paper.  It is nice to see that there are some simple things in life that are still around.

Where does it end.  Everyone has a phone, computer, i pod, mp3, nook, kindle, I pad, notebook and the list goes on and on.  What happened to playing outside and having fun.  Computers in the schools, work, home.  We are becoming an automated society.  Not sure where it will end.

Never thought I would say this, but I am lost without it now.  My phone is attached to me no matter where I go.  Wonder what would happen if there was a massive power outage.  Would people know what to do, where to go, and lord help us all, what would we do without our internet access.  Pretty scary isn't it?  Maybe we should not be so reliant on the electronics of today.  We seem to be helpless with out them. 

Anyway, here is to the self reliant people who have held out. You know the ones, with no gadgets hanging on their belt, in their ears, or purses.  To the ones of us who rely on the computer age for everything, you need to befriend one of the dinasours of the computer age.  They will be a good friend to have when all these electronics crash and we are helpless.  Those friends may pull us through and again teach us the old ways when we were not helpless and scared when the lights went out.  HAHA.  Put down your blackberries, your laptops, your IPads and go outside and enjoy life.  A life without computers.

Laugh till you cry......

Nursing, what a hoot.  Have any of you taken care of anyone that is confused, demented or drugged?  OMG what a riot.  Have you dealt with family that can't see what is in front of them?  This is something we deal with ever day and laugh till the tears run down our legs(sorry had to steal this one). 

Nurse come quickly, there is something wrong with my mom.... we run down the hall thinking there is a major problem.  Coming around the corner of the room, we see something that at any other time than right now, would make us laugh hysterically.  That is not something you can do when family is standing right there.... for some reason they do not find it funny when a drugged up family member is sitting there with their gown up over their head and they are talking to the IV pole like someone is standing there.  You ask the patient in a caring manner who they are talking to..... "can't you see them, they are right beside you".... then they begin picking at the air. 

The family is distraught.  Mom has never been this way... sometimes she is a little confused, but this is really scaring us.  The nurse tries hard to explain, that it is probably the medications either from surgery or the pain meds that they have been taking.  Poor mom is picking at the air trying to grab things that are not there, she is talking to people that are not there, and she is taking her clothes off..... she never does things like that.  You help her get her gown back on.  Show her that no one is there but her family and try to calm her, only to have her do it again once her family goes home. 

Throughout the night she is crawling out of bed, climbing over rails, pulling out IVs, walking down the hall naked.  It is something we laugh about when we see it, but it is so unnerving to a family that does not want to believe that there is anything wrong. 

As nurses and medical persons, we see some weird things, some funny things and some really alarming things.  The most alarming thing that we see is when families cannot believe that there is anything wrong.  You can explain until your voice is hoarse.  If it is not something that they are willing to accept, you are not ever going to get them to believe what your are telling them, even when they see it with their own eyes.  This is when our job gets really hard and sometimes sad.  You have to explain that the family cannot take them home.  They need to be somewhere where someone can watch them all the time.  That is when the family becomes defensive and can attack.  Be patient and understanding.  In time they will see there is an issue.

The laughter will return and the smiling will begin again.  Tomorrow there will be another drug induced delirium that will make us forget the day before.  We will again laugh till the tears come.  We will giggle at the person walking down the hall with their butt uncovered and try to nonchalantly go to cover them.... the whole time snickering.  Our jobs hold so much sadness, but also so much joy.  The craziness is part of what we do... so when we can we laugh trying to not hurt anyone's feelings.   Making light of the sadness or laughing at silly things is just the way we cope.... So in my case, I prefer to laugh till I cry, it is my way of coping with the ugliness and lack of hope at times......


When you see me crying, a kind touch is appreciated.  When you see me laughing, laugh with me... It makes it so we can continue what we do..... Many times we laugh until we cry.......I'm a Nurse and proud of what I do....

Its cold outside

Well that time of year has come again where you spend more time inside than out.  It's cold and the wind is beginning to blow hard enough to take the bark off of the trees.  Time again for coats, boots, gloves and the almighty window plastic. 

Now to let all of you that live in new houses know, the old houses do not have the fancy windows that shut and lock.  We don't have double pane glass, in fact the glass some of us have is kind of wavy and cool to look through.  The only problem with that type of window system (if you call it that) is, it does not keep the cold out, it steams up on the inside with any increase in heat, and it sweats and leaves puddles of water on the sill, as well as on the floor and down the wall. 

We have over the years figured out that the older the house the more leaks it has in the most inopportune places.  The breeze in our house can be cold at times.  NOT this year.  I have over the past few days, been up and down a ladder probably 50 or more times.  I have cut brier bushes away from the house, taped and stretched plastic (enough to cover most of the house completely), and fallen in numerous holes (dug by my wonderful little dogs). 

The last time I went up the ladder fixing the plastic, I had an audience.  Rudy, our newest addition was sitting in the leaves at the base of the ladder.  He sat there staring up at me with this "What the hell are you doing way up there", look on his face.  I would smile and call his name.  His back end would wiggle uncontrollably and he would bark at me.  Then it happened.  Oh ya, stretch out just a little bit further to attache the piece of plastic to the tape.  That's it stretch, stretch, almost...........oh shit.... now I'm laying on my back on the ground covered in leaves and Rudy thinks I'm there to play with him.  Dam, my ankle hurts, my butt hurts and I am covered in leaves from head to toe.  Rudy, get away, quit licking me and biting the leaves in my hair.  He tried to pull me across the grass by my hair like he does to our other dog, Bear.  Stop you little bugger, and leave me alone.  Off he trotted to the dog door and in he went.  Now I'm here by myself...... laying there for a minute, I pondered what would happen had I really taken a bad fall.  How would I get anyone to help me, if no one knew I was there.  You see I was on the north side of the house, surrounded by a chain link fence.  Not many people look back there....   From now on I take my phone with me.  Yes that is a great idea, why did I not think of that before this happened?  Stupid girl, up a ladder with no phone. 

Get up.... get back on the horse or in my case ladder.  Up I went to finish the job.  The north side of the house is done..... yeeehaaa.  Only a few more to do on the south side... that can wait till next week... It's my birthday and I am not going to finish this till next week, anyway it's cold outside.  See you in the spring.

Unconditional love

Have you had a pet?  One that you feel takes over your life and you cannot live without?  My family and friends are that way.

Over the years there have been pets that have come and gone.  The coming is the fun part, and the going is the hard.  Over the past 50 some odd years, I have had a number of pets.  First there was Trixie.  At least she is the first dog that I remember being in my life.  I don't remember a lot about her, except laying on her belly under the kitchen table.  We lost her, after she was hit by a car on the way to the corner store.  We moved shortly after that.

In Nelson, we were lucky enough to find a wonderful Husky pup, named Tuffy.  Now this dog had that name for a reason.  Little did we know that over the years, he would become just like his name.  He was a great protector.  He watched over us kids, like we were his.  I guess in a way we were.  He was a great big ball of fur, with beautiful eyes.  He was so soft and loved to play.  He also made sure that the animals stayed away from our yard.  His bark, was way more intimidating that he was.  He moved to town with us when I started high school.  We lost him to old age.  He was around 15 when he left us.

Now comes the monster.... Scout.  He was fun, but very rambunctious and loved to play, but you did not go near him when he was eating.  Scout was the house protector.  He watched out for all of us kids and let us know when anyone was around.  He did not much like anyone in a uniform.  We figured, at some time there must have been someone who had been mean to him that wore one.  He was hard to train and a few years after my brother was born, Scout turned mean and bit my brother.... That was more than my dad and mom could stand.... Scout left our house never to return. 

All of us have had furry children(pets)over the years.  Michael and I have loved many, Ali an Aierdale, Socks a Malamute, Simon an English wolf hound, Blondie a Heinz 57, Freckles a Britney Spaniel,  Scooter a mini doberman looking pup, Whiskers a Le Cairn terrier, Bear a Lhasa Apso and Rudy a were not really sure terrier, sort of.  Bear and Rudy are the babies that run our house right now.  They complete our family.  We love the fact that no matter how long you are gone, they are always happy to see you.  They run to meet you when you step out of the car, or when you step out of bed in the morning.  They watch and wiggle whenever you come around.  My floors are always clean when the pups are there.  Anything, and I mean anything that hits the floor, is down Rudy's throat.  That little monster dog will eat anything, and does.

Rudy is our little digger.  On a regular basis he brings into the house, "his prizes".  Birds, mice, moles and snakes that he has caught, killed and dragged in to show us.  He prances all over with the kill of the day.  So proud of what he has done.  He will lay it on the floor for you to step on in the dark.  Funny, you laugh.  Wait till it happens to you.   When we first brought him home from the "dog jail" (the animal shelter), he left us all sorts of presents all over my rug in the living room.  Needless to say he was not completely house trained.  A couple of days of feeding him then immediately outside, and he learned quickly to go outside to do his "buisness". 

Bear however is a different story.  My husband in his loving way calls him "pokey mon".  This wonderful little companion of mine is the quickest dog you have ever seen, but only if he is running or sneaking away from you.  Now if you want him to come into the house, you have never seen a dog move soooooo slow.  You almost have to drive a stick beside him to see if he is moving.  He can sniff one spot forever.  He is my sweet little boy.  He stayed with me when I moved to work at my last job.  He slept up beside me and warned me if anyone was coming to my house.  He is my grey curley hairball.  He loves to be up.  I think he figures he was born to short and needs to be up in your arms all the time to see what is going on.  He is forever sitting either in your lap, or standing there looking out the window of the car. 

Our dogs know what "go for a ride" means.  You want to see something cute, just say those words and watch the boys try and turn themselves inside out trying to get out the door before the other.  They will go straight to the car and try to paw their way in.  Open the door and in they jump.  Both sitting patiently waiting for you to get in and start the car.   Not sure what I would do without them.  They give you a feeling of warmth and love, and even the smallest of them can take up more room in a bed than any full grown man. 

Our families have always had dogs around.  We love them while they are with us and mourn them when they are gone.  The dogs we have had over the years have given us comfort, security and more joy than we could have hoped for.  They make you smile every day and cry at their loss. 
There will always be a soft spot in our hearts for our four legged friends and the "unconditional love" that comes with them.

All I wanted was a battery

Have you ever had a day that you just wanted to punch someone square in the face?  Is there anyone that bugs you so much that even punching them would not make you feel better?  Have you ever had those kind of feelings?  Did you have a mom and dad like mine, that told you no matter what, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all?  Well I'm here to tell you, that someday came!!!!
Now the day started out like any other.  Up in the morning, coffee with the husband and then dishes, feed the dogs and then out the door.  Toddling along at my own speed (foot to the mat of course), I am on my way to W. W.  Oh joy of joys.  I am not sure why we have chosen to treat ourselves so badly as to venture into this money sucking pit.  This is not a place that I relish going to anymore.  It use to be fun.  Then they reset the store.  That was some time ago and I am still trying to find stuff.  I know where all the food items are one week, then its gone the next.

Most people that go to this particular outlet seem to make it an all day family affair, like going to the park.  I cannot bring myself to go there just to find the things I need that are not available anywhere else in town.  I wander aimlessly up and down the isles staring at the multitude of items that they have packed into the smallest area possible.  My favorite is the holidays,  two isles crammed with everything under the sun for Easter, Halloween, Thanksgiving and the isle is wide enough for almost two carts.  Now this is just if you have nothing hanging off the side, front or under the basket. 

My trip was to find a small item for my camera, "a battery".  Now most would think that being as big a store as they are, they would have batteries of all sizes and shapes for the type of cameras they sell..... NOOOOOO.  The one I was looking for, was no longer held in stock and had to be ordered and would cost a mere $65.00 plus shipping and handling.  So adding on tax, license, stocking fees and whatever else there is that goes on inside those big box stores, the cost would be around $ 85.00.... for a bloody battery.  I payed almost that for the damn camera.  My blood began to boil.  He very matter of fact decided to tell me... "We could have it here in a week".  A WEEK.  It's a camera not a Lunar Module.  By now, my face was red, my ears on fire and I was looking like I would explode at any second.  The poor man looked at me and asked "are you ok?"  NO I'm not ok.  I want to use my camera.  I can't do that because I have no bloody battery for the camera that you sell.  I don't want to wait a week.  I want to take pictures this afternoon!!!!  I stomped off mumbling loudly to myself about how I knew not to come here.

I felt kind of sorry for the poor guy that I was dealing with.  It was not his fault that the battery was not for sale.  He did his best to see that I was satisfied.  Satisfaction was not something that I was feeling today.  The only satisfaction that I would get was, punching the guy (who decided not to carry this particular battery) IN THE FACE. 

After all this, I have bought another camera that takes the simple AAA batteries that you can buy everywhere.  I no longer use the other useless camera.  Anyone know someone that wants a great camera that takes a battery that costs $85.00.  Sad when you spend an extraordinary amount of time in a store looking for something, only to be told they don't carry it anymore, silly when all I wanted was a battery.

Here's to another 25 years

Have any of you ever been lucky enough to plan a party and have it come off the way you planned?  Do you have anyone that goes out of their way to help?  Do you have anyone that will help at all?  Do any of your friends and family offer to help or are you on your own for most things?  I am here to tell you that that is not the case in my life.

From the first minute I started planning this party, I had a couple of people asking if there was anything that they could do to help.  K. was my lifesaver, she helped with so much I don't know where to start.  My mom and dad, were and will always be the lifesavers when it comes to anything my family and I want to do.  They come through with flying colours every time.

Over a three month period the planning took place, food, menus, seating, music, invitations and all the things that go along with the planning of a party.   Lists were made of guests,  songs for music, food to be served.  All of this being kept secret from my husband Michael. 

All seemed to be going fine, until that fateful day, My Phone Died.  OMG what now?  Everything was on the phone.  All my guests, menus, pickup dates, what had been ordered and paid for, now what.  Call the sisters.  I was on Skype to my sister Deb.  She let me sob and cry and rant and rave.  Then she said, ok now you have whimpered enough, THINK.  The more she talked, the more I remembered.  By the time our conversation was over, I had remembered most of what I thought I had forgotten.  Funny how sisters can drag that out of you.

Mom and Dad arrived to find me with a broken wing.  I had fallen at work and injured my left hand.  Not wanting to remain in the ugly brace they put me in, we started working on getting the yard together and me doing my exercises.  Things went ok.  Short trips here and there and yon with the parents.  We did manage to take a short trip to visit a friend of the family in Branson.  I think Dad really enjoyed seeing Gary, and I think Mom did too.  She talked about all the things we used to do and how they are friends with all of Gary's family.  He also got caught up with all the gossip about everyone that he knew way back when.  Who is still living, who died and who is doing who  hahahaha. ( not really) just thought I would throw that in to see who is paying attention.

The whole trip was kind of fun.

 We headed home the next morning, after a full tour of the Branson area.  Stopped in Springfield at the Bass Pro Shop and while there took some silly pictures of both Mom and Dad.  Had fun all afternoon.  Off home.  Long drive but worth it. I got to spend a lot of time with Mom and Dad. 

Then to the casino where my Mother proceeded to win and win and win, leaving with a total healthy sum of over 1000 dollars.  What a day.  Then her and I went to Bingo... not something I have done for a long time.  The second game she won 100 dollars.  When we walked out, she handed me 50 dollars.  I had not expected that.  Her and Dad share whatever they win, and I guess I fell into that category.  All in all a good day..... I had a good time spending my time with Mom, and the 50 dollars was not too shabby either. hahahaha.

Now comes the biggie.  The party.  Food to cut and arrange, Alcohol to put out, Eating items to lay out.  Tables, chairs, flowers, decorations, as well as all the things associated with each of the afore mentioned items.  Music to set up(thank god for DJ's).  Bartender to help.   One of my best friends to help with all of the above.  She drove in from St. Louis to help.  Surprise people coming from all over the states.  What a day. 

Everyone getting dressed.  Crying cause my sisters could not be there, although we did set up Skype for them to watch.  The day seemed to go off without a hitch.  Good friends, good music and I even tried (should have said cried) to sing my husband a wonderful song about how much you love someone.  Nose running and blubbering the whole way through.  I would have been fine, had I not looked over Michael's shoulder to see my parents standing there smiling and winking at me.  That's when I really lost it.  Oh well, at least I tried.  My voice cracked and I sounded like a wounded cat.  Not sure what Michael thought, he never said.  The ring was put on my hand for the third time... His statement was "did it not take the first two times"?  hahahahahaha.  Just shut up and say I will.  I thought I loved him years ago.  Come to find out not as much as I do now.  I guess as you grow older, things change.  Your ideas of what is important change.  You come to rely on each other more than you know.  Michael is the other half of me and I think I am the other half of him, or at least I hope I am.  I know I could make it on my own, as could he,  but I don't ever want to try.  He is so much a part of my life.  Like my parents who have been married for 59 years this year, I hope we go on for at least that long.

My parents are looked up to as the couple that have the greatest marriage around.  I think they have been together longer than anyone else I know.  They still go everywhere, although my Dad won't drive, he says "I don't know where your going or what directions we just came from".  I guess I may have that problem at 80 as well.  Mom still does everything.  Travels, cooks, sews, knits and can keep up to even the youngest of those around her.  I have never seen her falter.  I hope I have half the energy they have when I am 60 little own 80.  The party went off without a hitch.  Everyone came ate, drank and mingled.  I think they all had a good time, I think.  It got kind of cool after the sun went down, and everyone gathered around the fire pit where Dad had lit the warmest fire.  It was like at camp, only with grownups.  We talked and told stories about being kids, and how our lives had changed. 

I want to thank all that came and help make "The Party" a success.  It warms my heart to know that we have such good friends and loving family.  Keep us in mind for the next one..... Hugs to all who helped us share our special day.  "Here's to another 25 years".

The porcupine and Ali

Summer, a time of fun, camping and trekking into the wilderness...

Do you have a dog?  Does the dog like to play outside in the fresh air?  Do they listen to you when you call or tell them to do something?  Mine too, or so we thought.

My husband and I used to like to go out into the bush and go exploring and camping on our time off.  We had a few days off and decided it was time for a camping trip.  We had gotten all the appropriate garb together for the camping trip.  Everything into the truck, clothes, tent, camp stove, extra wood(dry of course), sleeping bags, food, rope, tarps, shovel and tools.  We were off for our adventure.

We set off for the Liard river.  Now at this time of year, late spring, the rivers are slightly swollen, and hard to cross in the pickup truck.  We found an area of the river that was not as deep and proceeded to cross without any problem.  When across, we found a great area that had a small clearing just big enough for our tent.  Great because you could put a tarp up by tying it to the trees, making a weather block to stop rain and wind that might happen.  Camp gear was set up.  Sleeping gear put in the tent and we were off on our adventure.

Now we had a great Ford F-150.  It was set up for bush travel, so it was a lot higher off the ground than a usual truck.  We started the climb over the huge boulders and crevices that were all over the road to the copper mine.  Once over that area, the going was easy on a road that had been created for the moving of ore from the mine.  Don't get me wrong, this was not a well travelled road or highway, it was a dirt road, and I use the term road loosely.  Up and down hills and over more smaller rocks.  All in all the road was pretty good.  It only shook your guts up a little, better than the ones we had to travel to go to work at times.  Fun for the most part.

On the way up to the next river crossing, we came upon the most beautiful beaver dam.  It had caused the water to back up and fill a small area of marshy land with a great fishing hole.  On went the gum boots and off we went to fly fish for the big one, ya right.   Ali, our Aerdale was having a ball.  Sniff here, sniff there, then she was gone.  She wandered off all the time, but always came back when she had gotten tired of what she was chasing.

We caught a bunch of small trout, which we planned on cleaning and cooking for dinner that night.  It was a great afternoon.  Sunny and warm.  Calm, or so we thought.

Out of the bush comes Ali, crying and howling at the top of her lungs.  We thought maybe something was chasing her at the speed she was moving.  Up into the truck she jumped and laid down.  What is the matter.  We are looking around, moving rather quickly, thinking something is coming.   Nothing came out after her so, we look into the back of the truck to see Ali with her nose and mouth covered in Porcupine quills, and I mean covered.  There was not even a small area of her face that did not have quills in it.  She was lucky and did not have any in her eyes, close but not in them.   She got a little to close to what she had found and the porcupine let her know about it by depositing all of the quills in her face.  She just laid in the back of the truck looking at us with this please help me look.

Now comes the hard part.  Ali moved to the edge of the truck tailgate and let her face hang over.  My husband got out the pliers and began slowly trying to remove the quills.  Ali laid there with me holding her for the whole procedure without so much as a whimper.  We removed all the quills we could find.  She even had them in her mouth.  We took some cold water and poured it over the area to clean it once we were done.  She was not happy about the cold water, but let us pour it over the sore areas.  She just looked with her sad little eyes, as if to say thankyou. 

We did find one more tiny quill about a week later, that had lodged itself in her gum/corner of the mouth.  It had become infected and we pulled it out and treated the area until it healed.   Now Ali was a great dog.  She was bred for hunting bear, not procupines.   To think back now, it is funny how all of it happened, but at the time not so much.  I will never forget Ali's day with the porcupine.

First time surgery, what a hoot

Surgery, what a concept.  How do you know who to go to or when to get a new doctor?  Have they done this before?  Are they good at what they do?  Do they teach others their craft?  What about the new guys, how do they learn?  Here is a little story of a new doctors first time surgery...

Dad walked into the doctors office, with the intention of getting checked for a skin graft that was recommended by his personal doctor.  He had been referred, so felt confident that the physician he was seeing was competent.  He did the preliminary exam, and was very positive about the outcome of the procedure.  The surgery was planned.  Appointment made.  Here we go... a new look when Dad looked in the mirror.

Now arriving at the surgery area is one of the most unnerving things to go through. Questions asked and asked again.  Clothes removed, IV's started, people to talk to, more questions to answer, doctors in and out.   What could go wrong?  Everything.... Ok, it's time. 

Dad was taken into the surgical area by a nurse and preparation was begun for the surgery to take placed.  Dad's face was cleaned with the appropriate cleanser, then the area the graft was going to be taken from was preped the same way. The graft was to come from his chest, very close to the left armpit.  It's time.

In came the doctor, followed by the minions that are all needed for the procedure, PLUS ONE.  "Do you mind if this new fellow sits in on the procedure?" was the question from the surgeon.  Of course, my father being the man he is, he said "Of course not."  It began.

Off the doctors went to scrub and scrub some more.

All the scrubbing done and in came the doctors with their hands raised in the air, ready for the donning of the surgical garb.  Dressing the surgeon was done first then the nursing staff turned to the "NEW" doctor. 

Donning the surgical gown was easy.  Then came the gloves, which he proceded to put on the wrong hands.  He also did not know what size to ask for so the fingers of the gloves dangled over the ends of his fingers, the wrong direction due to the fact they were on the wrong hands... then came the mask.... OMG where did they get this guy.... mask on, the facial bra that is suppose to filter your breath and stop any bacteria the lungs may provide... that only happpens if the mask is on right... NOPE upside down so the nose kept peaking its beak out over the top... what a riot... and this guy is going to be a surgeon.

Well the procedure started and the surgeon asked his new orientee to help with mopping up any excess blood or body fluids that got in the way of proper visual access to the areas that were being surgically removed or attatched.  The surgery was going fine, cutting and sewing was advancing as the surgeon had described,  until the surgeon looked up and made a suggestion that the new doctor might want to take a seat on the stool against the wall... he was smiling, or that is what dad could see in the surgeons eyes over his mask.  All of the surgical staff were smiling, almost giggling under their masks.  The new doctor orientee was whiter than any bleached sheet dad had ever seen.... He sat there and watched from afar. 

The surgery was over and all went well.. The graft looked great. The dressing was applied and instructions were given on the proper care of both of the sites. As all of this was being done, a small voice from the corner stated, "Your not going to tell anyone that this happened.. are you?"  Oh course my dad said "No of course not".  Lauging ensued.  

When anyone asked how the surgery went, my dad proceded to tell all that had happened, especially the part about the doctor in the corner on the stool, and why he was there.   Small amount of pain followed for a few weeks... The underarm graft site was the most painful of all the sites that were worked on.  Now it was time for the return to the clinic for the follow up visit.

In walked the surgeon with a young man following him.  The doctor looked at dad with a slight laugh the doctor made the comment "No, its not the same kid".  Dad laughed and the visit went well with excellent results.  First time surgery for a new doctor, what a hoot, I guess everyone has to learn sometime.... hahahaha.

Take a fall and see who laughs

Well, well, well... Have you ever fallen and then told someone about it.  It is not so funny when it happens, but you can get people laughing so hard after the fact, you think they are going to wet themselves... that sort of happened today.  I had the staff in tears they were laughing so hard.  I guess my recounting of the way it all happened, was a lot funnier than when it actually happened to ME.  I had them all in stitches. 

Now the reason for their laughing was not one of my more proud moments.  I had gone in to check the shower room and ended up on my ass so to speak.  Slip, feet in the air, landing on knees and hand.  I never thought this would happen to me.  I am fairly well coordinated and tend to stay on my feet, at least that is what I thought.  While sitting on the floor, swearing at all the world, I was hurt but more mad than anything.  Stupid people who don't clean up after themselves. 

Anyway, from there I worked through the night and then came the fun... in comes the supervisor and states....."You need to go to employee health".  Those were the words I heard in the morning.  Oh no, anything but that, so off I went. 

Now you have to remember that I am now at the end of a three day weekend of 12 hour nights.  I was sleep deprived and not in a very good mood.  If I had known how many people would poke on the one part of my body that had been hurt, I would never have said anything to anyone.  "Does that hurt, can you bend it this way and that?"  Of course it hurt, I just landed my fat ass on the tile floor and tried to stop myself with my stupid wrist!!!!  Off to the Dr. who again poked and pushed on the one part that had been hurt.  "Does that hurt when I pu.., "Dam doc that hurts", guess I showed him, he did'nt even get to finish his sentence. Poke some more, pull here and there.  Now turn over and lets do the legs too.  No problem there, so I guess we need some pictures of that hand and wrist.   Now off to the radiology torture chamber.... xrays... who said they are not painful? 

You sit on a small stool and have your hand turned, moved and set into unnatural positions, to open the bones up so they can tell if they are broken.... Broken!!!! if they weren't when we started, they will be when this is over.  Bend it this way! Bend it that way! Hold that position!  Holy crap, how can you make something that hurts so much, hurt more.  Now don't get me wrong, she was very gentle with the torture that she performed and I know it had to be done,  but dam it hurt.  Wow, did not know taking a picture of something would be so involved.   Now back to the examining room to wait.... Pictures done.  No breaks, but you have to wear a brace for a week. 

At least I can still work.  I just have to take the brace off when I see patients.  Wish me luck with the exam next week.  I really don't want this stupid thing on when we have the party in three weeks.  If you really want to see some smiles and a laugh or two,  take a fall and see who laughs.  Not one of my prouder moments.

The bikini

Do you remember being young and having summer off school.  Lying on the beach, being with friends, having fun.  How was summer in your house?  Do you remember laying out in the sun trying to get the ultimate tan?  Do you remember the first time your DAD saw you in your bikini?  Can you remember what he said?  Well I'm here to tell you it was not pretty.

I can remember going to buy my first bikini.  Mom and I went shopping for a bathing suit that summer.  We spent a lot of time finding just the right one.  I had finally got the ok to get a bikini, as long as it was not some slutty looking nothing.  We shopped and looked for some time till I found the one that I loved.  I still can remember seeing it for the first time. There it was, hanging on the rack was the bikini of my dreams.   Blue and white checks, ruffles around the waist and the top.  I can still see it.  It was to die for, and I almost did the first time my dad saw me lying on a towel on the grass. 

All I heard was "who the hell do you think you are wearing something like that.  Your not going anywhere looking like that".   Crying ensued.  Dad left for work.  Mom told me that it would all be fine.  Dad just needed a little time to deal with the fact that his "little girl" was not so little anymore.  I left for the beach making sure to be home before dad.   Funny, you get boobs and the father turns into an ogre, that is not letting you out of his sight.   Mom ran interference for a while till the heat was off.   Dad finally gave in, as long as I covered up while on the way to and from the beach.... Ya Right... "what he did'nt know won't hurt me"

The kids all loved the bikini, especially the boys.  I thought it was fantastic to finally be able to tan my belly.   I don't remember seeing any pictures in that specific bathing suit.  Not sure if any are around.  

Now over the years, bikinis have come and gone.  Now there are suits, that don't cover much of anything.  I think that bathing suits should be comfortable, but leave a little something to the imagination.  Dental floss up the butt, little triangles that cover as little as possible... What happened to modesty?

Sometimes I think father's had the right idea in trying to stop the trend that was coming.  Most would have rather their little girls stay little and covered up.  Maybe they were right.  Oh well, those days have come and gone.  The blue and white checked bikini has been replaced with a full body bathing suit that covers all the lumps and bumps of being older and having children.  We stare at the ones in bikinis now and long for the body that goes with them.  Time is passing and things have changed...Oh for the days when life was simpler, bodies were firm and tawt and we fit into "the bikini".

I was just trying to be nice

Life!  Who knew!  That's right, who knew it would be like it is, or as it has turned out.  Did anyone ever tell you things would be this way?  Did they warn you of the things to come?  Would you have done and said the things you did, if you had known the outcome? 

I think daily of the things I have done over my lifetime.  The things I have said that would have better been left unsaid.  The people who have been saddened or hurt, by just a passing comment or the ones that were hurt by no comment at all.  I have tried to come to terms with the things that have happened in my life, good and bad.  Most do not have that chance.  Most people tend to sweep things under the rug and try to ignore them.  I am here to tell you that no matter how hard you try, you cannot make them go away.  They rear their ugly heads to haunt you when you least expect them.

I have also had negative statements made about and to me. I have come to the realization that most people do not know how much something may hurt you.  Something as simple as a comment about your makeup or your hair can hurt.  I can remember a time when someone made a comment about me wearing makeup.  They did not mean anything mean, but to me the comment "you look really pretty with makeup on", made me feel horrible.  It was probably the mood I was in, but I took it to mean, you look like hell without it.  This made me feel bad all night long.  In fact, I went in and washed it all off.  You never know who or what might set you off.  Even the simplest of statements can cut to the bone.

I try really hard now to find something nice to say about people, especially if they are sad or in a bad mood.  It does not always happen quite like that though.  Some people do not take compliments well.  Some people think you want something from them when you are nice.  So when you go to say something nice to people, make sure you are sincere in your approach.  Life is hard and treats people in funny ways. 

I am not sure what went wrong, I was just trying to be nice....

Nursing, what a riot.

Have you thought about the profession of nursing?  Do you ever wonder what you were thinking by going into this career.  I have over the years seen some really different, strange, and wild and crazy things.  There will be no names, but some of you may remember the things that I am speaking of.  

I have over the years been privy to some of the strangest sights.  Here are just a few.

1.  Can you help me?  I can't seem to get the bugs off the ceiling.  This was an older gent, that was really confused due to the medications.  The staff came and asked if there was anything I could do to help them and him.  I walked in the room with my hand wrapped around an invisible spray can.  I asked the man where the bugs were.  He told me and I proceeded to spray the whole room, after having him cover his nose with the sheet.  When done spraying, I asked if he could see any I had missed.  "Just one, right there" he answered.  I sprayed that one, and he thanked me, laid his head down and fell asleep for the rest of the night.  Surprising what can be accomplished with an little ingenuity.

2.  The nurse had just done her rounds and had stopped in a room at the end of the hall.  I followed her in.  The little lady, who had not been able to move on her own, little own get out of bed, was sitting  at the bottom of her bed.  Looking very sheepishly around the room, she asked what was wrong?  Nothing we answered.  What are you doing out of bed?  She said she did not know.  Then we spied a water pitcher under the edge of her bed.... What is that doing under your bed?  She looked at us, while shoving it under the bed with her foot,  without flinching stated she needed to pee and that had worked just fine for the time being.  I leaned to pick it up, at which time she very matter of fact said, "It's OK honey you can just throw that one out.  I'll buy a new one in the morning."  We all began to laugh uncontrollably.  "I was a farm girl and we used these things all the time at home."  Trying to control our laughter, we both in unison stated, "You really need to use the bathroom here."  She started to laugh with us, and was returned to bed without issue.  We left the room still giggling.

The things people say and think, under the influence of drugs.

3.  Last night we were called into a patients room to find him laying on the floor naked.  First thing we thought was oh no he fell.  Upon going to the patient and asking if he was OK, he stated rather loudly, "This is the bed I made.  It's more comfortable that that thing you gave me to sleep in."  He had taken 3 pillows and was laying face down on them with his head under the bed.  Interesting getting him up off the floor.  We helped him back to bed and asked him to let us know if the bed was a problem from now on. 

These are just a couple of the things that have happened.  It seems that the drugs are getting stronger and the patients are getting older, and that is not a good combination.    
I have over the years found people sitting naked in the hall, standing on their beds jumping up and down, and walking down the halls with their all togethers hanging out.  Only to have them tell me I am a liar when I tell them the next day what had happened.  I have developed rather broad shoulders and a positive outlook when it comes to post operative patients.  Some do really well.  Some cry and carry on about things that mean nothing to me or to them, due to drugs.  Many awaken telling us that they do not want go through with the surgery, only to find out it is already over.  We console when we can, laugh with them whenever possible, cry with them now and then, and help which ever way possible to get them through the tough time post op.

The profession I have chosen is one that I love.  At times I hate the job, but I will forever love the work.  I don't remember ever wanting to do anything else.  I just hope when the time comes, I don't act as off the wall and crazy as some of my patients have in the past.  Wonder what the future holds?  Another work day is just around the corner.... Bring on the fun and let me do my stuff...... Just hope this week makes us all laugh, cause "nursing can be a riot".

Remodelling a home...something only crazy people do

Now, most people do not go into remodelling a home with anything but the most positive of attitudes.  That is not to say that they are that way when it is in progress, or when done.  Everything is started with open and good intentions.  But, somewhere along the way, things change....

It started out as a good idea.  Lets just do some remodelling of the kitchen.  This is something that I had been wanting to do for over 7 years now.  Level the sitting area.  Change the layout of the cabinets and move the fridge.   Good ideas, or so I thought.

The day started out with the best of intentions.   Up came the old carpet and then the linoleum.  Hubby came home to find that most of the floor was missing.  WOW was his first word.  What happened?  I got fed up with everything rolling to the outside wall when dropped.  I decided that we are going to fix this blasted floor once and for all, and while were at it, lets fix the kitchen too.  That's how it started.  That was over two months ago, and this week I got fed up.  Now or never.

I got up on Tuesday and took out the first cabinet, then the lower four drawer cabinet, then the seven foot cabinet at the end of the counter.  I had measured before starting to make sure that the three door fridge would fit in the open space once the cabinets had been removed.  Yes..... Now to move the fridge.  A little harder than I had expected, but doable.  It fit perfect.  Now all I needed was a small one foot cabinet to put between the fridge and stove.....

Off to the building supply house to find what I needed. 

Now as luck would have it, my husband had always shown me what he called the scratch and dent isle of the store.  We had made a point of going to that area every time we went, to check out what was on sale.  As luck would have it today, I came across a one foot special order cabinet with self closing door and drawer for a significantly reduced price.  Someone had decided not to buy this gem and had left it for me to find.  It was perfect, all I needed to do was paint it.  What a find.  Now off to the wood isle to find the wains coat for the east wall.  All my stars were in line today, I found all I needed.  Out to the car with my purchases.... Oh no, forgot my cabinet.... back in the store, looking like a fool.  Out to the car with my prize....

At home unloading the items was not as much fun.  Dogs under foot made it hard to get things in the house.  The cabinet fit perfect with a little jimmying of the fridge.  It slid in like it was made for the space. 

Now, what to do with the seven foot cabinet.  Move it from the middle of the kitchen floor.  Out to the back door area.  First to move it, the bench had to go.  So out the bench went to the laundry room.  Wow, did not know it weighed that much.  Push, pull, shove, my arms were like jello.  Got it all done.  Now for the cabinet.  It was easy to move to the back doorway.  Now to get it out into the back hallway I had to tip it onto its back.  Easy.  Done.  Slide the cabinet out the door.  Easy.  Down the step, not so easy.... Clunk... OOppsss came down a little harder than I thought.... Oh dam.... It's slipping.... Look out... Down it fell.... Now it is jammed in the laundry room doorway and I cannot move it.

On the phone to my wonderful husband, all he could say was, "if no one moves, nothing gets broken, bent or hurt".  He came home about an hour later and proceeded to crawl in through the garage door.  It was impossible to get in through the laundry room door.  The cabinet was jammed in the doorway so well, it took both of us to lift it out.  Lift, push, tip it on its footing, straighten it up.  There, now up against the wall.  Good, it fits perfectly.   Now to fill it up again with useless stuff that we don't need to keep anyway.   Off to work.

Upon arrival home this morning, I came through the back door to find the new sub floor finished and the old partition gone.  The kitchen is starting to look the way I had envisioned it.  Open, airy, and non cluttered.  I can't wait till its finished.  More moving and shuffling of items to take place this week.. Won't be long now.  I can see it all coming together.  I hope we both survive to see the end result.  I have come to the realization that remodelling is something only crazy people do, and I am about as crazy as they come.

The Graduation of 1971

Do you remember your graduation?  Is it something that is fresh in your mind?  Is there parts of it that no matter how hard you try, you just cannot forget?  Parts that no matter how hard you try, you can't remember?  What a time in someones life.  It is suppose to be a time for fun and partying before the great trek into real life and the job world that continues till you retire or die trying.   My graduation was one for the record books!!!

Grad was on every one's mind.  There is the ceremony on Friday.  Then comes the dance Saturday and after parties.  Then the post grad party breakfast. Then there is the Sunday fun...... OMG what a weekend..

Everything starts with all the girl going to find just the right dress.  This is something that I have come to look at as nothing more than a futile effort to out do the other guy.  Something that is suppose to be so fun, turns into something that we have been taught not to do, for our whole lives.  Who has the best dress, shoes, hair, car etc. etc. etc.   Money out the window for things that will be worn for a matter of hours, then tossed into a trunk, bag or given to charity.  God forbid anyone should ever see that same dress on anyone else, or on you again.   These days, it is even worse, because now the dresses cost you a mortgage payment and then some. 

My dress was fairly simple.  Brown velvet bodice with off white crepe skirt, simple and very elegant.  It made me happy and that is what counted.   Off to the ceremony, Grand March and then the dance.  All the parents are sitting in the bleachers with a million cameras.  Stop, stand still, look this way then that.  My god, by the time you got to the "The Dance".  A place where parents are not allowed and the teachers stand guard, so you don't get to close to your partner.  If they only knew.  The dance is over and now comes the partyyyy......

We were lucky.  One of the students, who was also a friend, had a father who owned the drive-in-theater.... Now what a streak of luck.  The movie was over and now the fun began.  Movies all night.  Locked into the drive-in with a bunch of crazy grads and who knows how much beer.   Her dad opened the drive-in to the grads for the night and showed movies till dawn.  It was a great time.  There were parties all over town.  Some big, some not.  Everyone had a great time.  I think I finally staggered home around 4am, only to be dragged out of bed at 7am for the "morning after breakfast", which by some form of luck was at my house.
My wonderful Dad dragged my sorry butt out of bed to greet my guests.... Who's idea was this anyway.  I wanted to do nothing more than sleep.
Oh my head hurt.  Sitting on the fence post of the yards only gate, I welcomed each guest, with a finger pointing at the coffee and food (like any one of us was going to eat anything).  Throwing up, or not doing so was at the forefront of each of our thoughts.  So much fun the night before and then misery for the morning.  We had one or two of the kids that showed up walking around the outside of the lower lawn for so long, they actually wore a path in the grass. hahaha.  Bodies sleeping on the grass.  The coffee was a huge hit.  Toast and a bit of bacon were eaten, but I think of the 12 dozen eggs we had, only one or two dozen were used.  It was a good thought, but I don't think anyone really realized how bad everyone was going to feel.  There were lots of kids that showed up.  Some parents were there to help, but I think it was more to see if their kids were still alive.  What a night.  Now off to the barbecue at Kokanee Park...

Now, Kokanee Park is approx. 12 miles east of Nelson along a very winding road.  This can cause some problems for people who have been drinking and some that still were.  It can give you the feeling of motion sickness very easily.  The partiers were on the way. 

Everyone arrived at the park and began making their way down to the beach.  On the beach was a sight that few had seen previously.  Bodies of  kids everywhere.  Some sleeping, some groaning loudly and some just laying their holding their heads or sleeping.  Piles of beer bottles were everywhere.  I don't think I have ever seen that many beer bottles.  They were neatly stacked in pyramids intermittently down the beach.  Monday morning they would be stacked neatly all around the edge of the roof of the high school.  Someone knows how and who put them there.  I never did find out.

The barbecue was a ball.  Everyone showed up, including lots of family members.  The weekend was a raging  success.   No one died.  Only one person hurt... broken arm from falling off Hamilton's Mansion roof.   Funny only two of the grad students showed up for school on Monday.  I think the rest of us slept for most of the day... Anyway what a weekend to remember.   Everyone had fun.  Most will remember with fond memories, "The Graduation of 1971".

The Valley of Hope

To me, the Valley of Hope is a place that is far away from the place I call home right now.  It is a place that houses most of the rest of my family.  My sisters and I have become more connected than ever, due to face book and the Internet.  We speak daily, or at least try. Over the past few weeks, we have become disconnected, due to a move that took place.  My problem is figuring out where in the valley I can set up my tent and live out the rest of my life, happy and content.

Char is my baby sister and has had her life turned upside down by my niece.  The day finally came.  A wedding.  A wonderful celebration.  The two of them were off to shop.  The quintessential trip for mom and daughter to try and buy the perfect wedding dress.  Now this is normally a very happy occasion, and was this day as well, until the fact that Angie was trying on dresses for her wedding finally hit her.  Trouble breathing.  Overwhelmed.  She was a little taken aback by the whole ordeal.  Char, the great mom she is, calmed her and the fun continued.  I was lucky enough to reach Char before they left and asked that she take pictures of all the dresses.  I now have a folder in my email account that is Angie's dress choices.  I guess living vicariously through my sister is as close to the real thing as I will get.  The pictures are beautiful and she is going to be a gorgeous bride.

Down the road a mear three hours, is my other sister Debbie.  She and her husband have left the metropolis of Vancouver to settle in the small Hamlet of Oliver.  They closed their store in Vancouver, to open another in the small town of Penticton.  I am hoping that the people of Penticton see the talent that Debbie has, like the patrons she had in Vancouver did.  They sold their house and have bought a large plot of land with grape vines and an orchard, where they are planning on building a house and retiring at some time in the future.  I am looking forward to seeing this place.  If what they have built in the past is anything like what they have planned for this piece of land, it will be phenominal and gorgeous.   I can't wait to see it. 

My brother lives about half way between the both of them.  He and his wife and two small boys live in the town of Westbank.  Robin is an accountant and at this time is taking time off to care for the boys till they start school.  Shawn is a truck driver, with a dedicated route between his home and Vancouver.  That gives him time to spend with his family. 

Now the problem is, where do I live?   I live 2000 miles away in the middle of the states.  No family to speak of in the area.  My husband has two of his children living here, but none of my immediate family are anywhere close.  I miss the craziness of my family and the fun that we have had over the years.   I can remember things from my childhood, that would have driven others crazy and made them very upset, but in my family you deal with those things and go on.  It is hard not having someone that you can run to with questions and problems.  We have all been very close and have mostly remained that way.  We drifted apart for a time, and we still are not that close with my brother right now, but that is mostly due to work and family constraints.  All of us miss him dearly.  Oh ya, and bull headedness runs deep in our family.  We don't forgive easily. 

My years are climbing and the things that used to mean so much, have diminished with time.  The things that were so important are not anymore.  Family and friends are now at the top of the list.  I found that without those particular people, life does not mean much.  If you have a rift between you and family, do whatever it takes to rid yourself of the rift.  You cannot replace family no matter how hard you try.   They may get under your skin.  They may make you crazy, but there is no one like someone that is a part of you and your past.  I love all of my family, but would not give up my brother and sisters for anything.  They mean the world to me.  I wish we were closer, but until we are, I will tell them at every chance just how much they mean to me.  I love you and will forever and always.

Brain dead and bullet proof

What is it about the teen years?  Is there something in a book somewhere that says that teenagers are suppose to be brain dead and bullet proof?  I have often wondered why it is they think they can get away with some of the things they try!  Is there any rhyme or reason for the things they do?  Is there a reason that they have to follow even the stupidist of friends down the path that leads to something that can cost them their lives.

I am the proud mom of six, count them six kids.  Five boys and a girl.  Now over the years each and everyone of they has done something that, as a mother, has made me proud(sarcasm).  It has been everything to rolling trucks down hills sideways to getting arrested for stupid petty things.  I have over the years though, decided that if they get arrested, they are going to spend the night if not longer in the county clink.  The fear of sitting in jail, was usually not as scarey as calling MOM and telling me where they were. 

Now my kids may tell you that they are scared of me.  This is something I pride myself on.  It is not to say that they could not come to me for just about anything, but a little unadulterated fear does not hurt anyone, especially if it keeps them from doing something industrial strength stupid, like this last incident that has happened. 

I got a phone call from someone that I had not heard from in a long time, my ex-daughter-in-law.  I was given information that sent a wave of panic into my soul, the likes of nothing that had ever happened to me before.  You see in our family, we have had the angels watching over us.  Not a child has been lost, to date.  This was not going to be the first.  

The phone call came with the following information.  Your grandson is in ICU, intubated.  Now to a lay person, this means the person is sick and in a place where they can be taken care of,  because they are really sick.  To a nurse, it is a whole nother story.  ICU and intubated means the child is so sick he is not able to breath on his own, has had a trauma so bad that the brain is not working, or even worse, the child may die if not treated quickly. 

My mind began to reel.  All the terror came pouring out.  To have to sit and wait for information is one of the worst things to have happen to anyone.   Ok more information.  Drugs, alcohol, found unresponsive in room.  Now there was more information available.  In a way it was good, but then the more information a nurse has, the more things they can imagine can go wrong.  A bit of good information, he was extubated.  The foley is being removed.  Good information to have.  Now to find out what the next step is.  More tests, and then home if all the results are good.  He was lucky, THIS TIME.  I hope there is no NEXT TIME.

The phone call this morning was not one that was pleasant.  I was given the number to the hospital.  Funny, he did not seem happy to hear my voice.  I tried to encourage the truth, but kept running into inconsistencies throughout the conversations.  We spoke for a long time, me explaining things to him and him trying to justify the things he did.  It is hard to get angry with the person you thought might die.  The anger I have now is towards the people who were part of this fool hardy idea that led him to this point. 

You try for most of your life to instill moral codes in your children so they can pass them on to their children.  Then something like this happens and all you do is blame yourself for the things you did not do.

I am here to tell you that, no matter how hard you try to make your children into people who do the right things, there will always be others out there leading them in the opposite direction.  You can only do what you can do.  You give it all you have and then sit back and hope for the best.

Oh no my tongue

When you were a kid, did you remember bundling up to go out and play in the snow?  Running through the snow and making snow angels?  Playing outside in the snow until your fingers and toes felt frozen?  Have you ever been in an area that was so cold that if you touched metal your fingers would stick to it? 

We were raised in Saskatchewan, Canada.  The middle of the prairies is nothing if not fridgid in the winter.  The wind blows all the time and chills you to the bone.  When I say chills you to the bone I mean it.  I can remember a day walking home from school.  I got to the bottom of the hill that led to our house and was met by my mom or dad, I'm not sure.  When they saw me, I had my coat flapping in the wind that whipped through the valley, and my nose had been running and had frozen to my cheek and chin.  All I can remember is being scooped up and taken home and warmed up.  No one was happy about how I was dressed when I left the school for the long walk(about 5 or 6 blocks)home.  I am sure that there was some words said to the teacher about it.  No one ever said anything to me though.

I lived in a place that was so cold in the winter, you spent a lot of time inside, but kids will only take so much inside time.   When you did go out, you bundled up so much, the most you could see on a kid was their eyes.  We would often go to grandma's house to visit, and she lived less than half a block from a small park with swings, monkey bars and teeter totters.  It was fun to spend time crawling all over the equipment.  During the Spring, Summer and Fall we would spend hours in the park playing.  It was not as much fun in the winter when the metal became very cold and would stick to your gloves when wet.  Leaving a boot in the snow or a glove stuck to the monkey bars now and then was not bad, but it was a totally different story when it came to skin. 

I can remember the day that we were playing in the park and someone, in their infinite wisdom decided to dare us to stick our tongues on the monkey bars.  Now most kids were smart enough to say no way.  We on the other hand, had never done this before and thought it would be cool to feel the frigid cold of the metal.  Now I can't remember which one of us was the stupid one, but I do remember the yelling that blasted through the air, when the tongue stuck and would not let go.  Pulling ensued.  Pain and screaming began.  Off we ran to get Mom.

Yelling and screaming hysterical little girls running at you is enough to throw anyone off their game.   Mom was beside herself.  Getting two little girls to stop screaming and calm down enough to get them to tell you what had happened was hard to do.  Finally she realized what was trying to be said.  She got a kettle and filled it with hot water and started out for the park.  Here to her surprise was a little girl with her tongue firmly placed on the metal rung of the monkey bars.  Out of the kettle came the hot water as she poured it slowly over the bar and the tongue of the crying child.  After a few seconds of warmth, the tongue let go and then the real crying began.  Scooped up in mom's arms and carried back to grama's was a crying and very scared little girl.

Now I have a great memory for things that have happened in my life, but for the life of me I cannot remember who it was that stuck their tongue on the monkey bars.  I think it was my sister Deb.  Deb says it was me, and both of us after talking think that maybe it was Char, more because we could usually talk her into doing just about anything.  She is the youngest of us and usually the easiest to get to do things, or at least back then.  Over the years, we have talked each other into and out of a lot of things, but I will never forget that day.  The day the tongue got stuck to the monkey bars.

Oh to be young again.

How many of you had sisters or brothers or both?  Did you ever go for rides in the car with your parents when you were young?  How many of you fought for the window seat or shot gun in the front seat?  Were there more kids than window seats in the car?  I'm here to tell you a story about just that.

In our family, we went for a drive every Sunday.  You did not get asked if you wanted to go, it was just an unspoken rule.   It was family time.  It was a time for you to talk, sing and visit with the rest of your family.  We had a ball most of the time, but at times all that was heard was fighting and arguing about where you were sitting and who was beside you.

There were three of us girls, mom and dad.  My little sister usually sat in the front seat between mom and dad, but there were times when all three of us were forced to sit in the backseat.  This usually caused a big fight that started with the statement "She's touching me or she's looking at me".  That lead to repeated punches from the sister you were beside and usually a slap from mom.  None of us saw the slap before it hit. We were never sure how or when Mom's arm grew to the length it took to reach us.

I was the oldest and usually sat behind my dad.  Deb was beside the window, behind mom and Char in the middle, with NO WINDOW.  It is tough to the be smallest of three kids in a car with only side windows.  At times we would take turns laying in the back window.  It was fun looking up at the sky, laying on your back.  If you got caught letting a kid do that now, you would probably get arrested for child endangerment.  Back then, it was accepted to do things like that, just like riding in the back of a pickup truck was ok.

I can remember going for drives all the time.  It was fun and usually entertaining.  We went everywhere together.  I am really lucky to have had the childhood I did.  We did not have a lot of money, but got to do a lot of fun things with our parents.  We cut our own Christmas Tree every year, went on camping trips every summer, and travelled to different places, always together.  Back then I am not sure we thought it was all that great a thing to do, but if  I had it to do over again I would not change anything. 

We were together as a family.  It is fun to remember all the things we did, and no matter where we went or what car we took, before the trip was over there was always someone yelling  about something the other sister or sisters had done or were doing.  Now we just smile and giggle when we hear, "Mom, she's touching me" or "Mom, tell her to quit looking at me".  Kids will be kids.  We had a great life at home and on the road with Mom and Dad.  Oh to be young again.

The field of rocks

Not sure how many of you remember the year you were in grade five.  What did you do for fun?  How many things did you do in school?  What kind of sports programs did you have?  Well I am here to tell you that the year I was in grade 5, there was no fun to be had on our school grounds.

The year started out like any other.  School started and everyone was having a great time.  This was the first time I had been to a school where I did not know anyone.  We had moved out of town to 4 mile.  The area was ok, and the kids we met were like us, but a new school!!!  The first day was scary.  Very few of the kids knew me or my sister.  We had not had time to meet many people that summer, just a few of the kids that lived on the same road as we did.

I had always been a really good student, at least till now.  My teachers had all been women, kind and gentle.  Now I was forced into a classroom with a male teacher.  I will call him Mr. F.  He was big and gruff and had no time for any sissy or girly stuff.  He promptly put me in remedial reading.  We found out shortly after that, I needed glasses.  Was not that I could not read, but could not see well enough to read what little I could see.  That started me off on a really crappy foot.  Now I was called four eyes.  And that was not all.  This was the first time I had ever had a perm in my hair, and I looked like I had stuck my finger in a light socket.  Can you imagine starting in a new school, getting glasses, permed hair and not knowing anyone.  OMG what else could they have done to me.  I wanted to crawl under the nearest rock. 

Then there was the most dreamy boy.... I can remember seeing him for the first time.  Oh what a god.  What a beautiful sight to look at.  Every time he would look my way, I would blush and turn away.  I found out that he took square dancing.  Now why would anyone do that?  Only nerds and geeks took square dancing. Well I went directly home and demanded to go.  Now comes the big crinolines that made your skirt stick straight out.  I had no idea that they made things like that.  I had to have them.  I had to go and take square dancing, he was there.   That lasted about a year and then dwindled to me not going anymore, I had found the man of my dreams elsewhere.  Funny how when your young your idea of perfection changes from one minute to the next. 

Then came the classes.  All the classes were the same as in ever other school I had been to, till now.  I had to take P.E. on what I thought was a dirt field. Little did I know that was not the case. 

The school was set in a huge bunch of trees.  They had brought in the bulldozers during the summer to level the playing field.  They had done a great job, except for one thing.  The field was now covered with small rocks that were everywhere.  How were we going to do anything on that field except get cut and scraped up.  We were about to find out.

The first P.E. class was outside on the what was to be our beautiful grass covered field, but first the rocks had to go.  Each of us was given an area, and a bucket and told that our P.E. class was going to pick up rocks for a while each class.  Now we were under the stupid impression that this would be something that would only happen for a short period of time.  Silly silly children.  This went on for two years.  The first year, it was all the bigger rocks.  The large ones were put around the edge of the field, while the smaller ones were carted off by the boys in the buckets that were provided for us. 

Can you see the kids of today doing that?  Can you hear what would come out of their mouths if told that was what they were to do?  NOT.  The parents would be up in arms and they would be removing their children from that school in a heart beat.

Now we did this with a lot of grumbling and griping, but we did it because we were told we had to.  Back then you did not under any circumstances argue, contradict, or refuse to do what you were told.  It was nothing for a kid to be sent to the principles office for the strap for mouthing off.  Its funny, because if you got the strap at school, most of the time when you got home, you got it worse for being a bad kid.   OMG the lawsuits that would take place today!!!  First would be child labour laws and child abuse.... I can just see it now.  The papers splashed with all the horrible things children were made to do, or things that had happened to them.

In the end, we lived through it and we had a beautiful field that was used until the school was closed very recently.   It was a chore that we were privileged to do that lead to a great accomplishment.  We did not see it at the time, but did in the years that followed.  It was a field of rocks we became very proud of.

The train, a wonderful way to go

When you were kids, did you get to go places?  Did your parents take you to different cities and sights?  Have you ever travelled on a train?   Did you visit family and friends in places far away from your home?

We were lucky as kids to be able to travel.  We spent lots of time on the train back and forth to our old home town and our grand parents.  You see my dad worked for the railroad and we road for a very minimal cost, allowing us to travel often.  When I say often, I mean probably 3-4 times a year.  More often than most.

Now we road often enough that the conductor on the Budcar(as it was called) would bring us goodies from the local fruit stands.  Fresh strawberries, cherries and such throughout the summer months, berries, peaches, plums and apples in the fall. 

Now everyone thinks that the train is such a romantic way to travel.  I bet if you talked to my mom, she would say, not so much.  We would sit and count telephone poles and posts... before long, one of us would throw up, usually all over someones feet.  Yuck. 

Then there was the sleeping cars.  This is nice if there is just one of you, but two small and i mean little girls, a baby and a mother can make for some really cramped quarters.  No one really got much sleep... The really crappy time was when you had to change trains.  It was always in the middle of the night and the lay over was usually too long for us to sit and wait.  We would get a small hotel room close to the depot and sleep for a few hours and then back on the train(usually around 5am) to gramas house.

Today the train is a lot different.  Cars are not as busy or crowded.  Then, lots of people road the train.  It was fun, when it was not full and you didn't have to sit next to your sister all the time.  At least on the train you could get up and move around, and there was a bathroom(although not always the cleanest) to use.  Very necessary with three little girls, one of us always had to go. 

The train was a nice way for us to travel.  It did keep us occupied for long periods of time.  All mom had to do was to tell us to watch for a particular thing, and then we would be quiet and stare out the window for a time trying to find one. 

We did get to see some really great country.  We got to go through a place called Frank Slide.  This is where, while people of the town slept, the mountain gave way and slid down and covered a town.  No rocks have been removed.  It is a place of remembrance, and as a memorial you are discouraged from removing even the smallest of rock out of respect for the people that were buried.  It takes your breath away.  It is overwhelming to think that something like that could happen.

We got to go through the Rocky Mountains, the Plains and across many rivers.

It is awe inspiring to see the wheat of the plains when full grown.  Miles and miles of golden shafts waving in the wind.  It reminds me of ocean waves ebbing and flowing towards and away from the beach.  A golden sea of wheat as far as the eye can see.  The prairies life blood.  Every now and then a patch of green.  A small body of water that feeds the trees and grass surrounding it.  The hills and valleys that mark the landscape of the prairies.  It can be desolate and beautiful all at the same time.

We were lucky to be able to see as much as we did.  I know of people that have never been outside the area where they were born.  I have been blessed to have been so many places.  Today I still travel and drive as often as I can when doing so.  I love to see the different areas and how the terrain changes.  I wish the train system was more accessible to me where I live now.  I would spend a lot more time travelling via rail.  Sit back and let the train take you where you want to go.  The train, what a wonderful way to go.

Sing like no one can hear you

It takes a lot to surprise me!  I very seldom see or hear things that take my breath away anymore.  This morning I was pleasantly surprised to see and hear something that did just that.  Took my breath away and made me cry.

I was going through my emails this morning and had openned most of them when I came to one from my mom.  I had looked at it a couple of times and it had an attatchment to Youtube and I don't very often open them.  For some reason, this time I did. 

The video that I saw blew me right out of my shoes.  On the video, was the equivalent of America's Got Talent, only in Korea.  This young guy came out on stage and started to answer questions about his life.  You see, in Korea you have to answer questions about your life and family on the applications form( not sure if that is part of what you have to do here).  They asked him questions that brought out the fact that this young man had no family, had lived on the street selling gum and sports drinks since he was FIVE years old.  He slept anywhere that was warm and covered (toilets, doorways etc).   He was ridiculed and abused from the time he was very young.

He had seen a singer in a club where he had been selling things and had fallen in love with singing.
He said he did not sing very well and had only had a couple of lessons(only took them when he could afford it), but he loved to sing because of the way it made him feel.  He then took a step back and what came out of his mouth was the most beautiful thing I have heard in some time.  He sang from his heart.  He sang because he loved it.

When he started to sing, the faces of the judges said it all.  The audience went wild.  The judges began to cry.  He had the most beautiful voice and sound.  One of the judges said that she wanted to pay for voice lessons for him, so he would continue to sing.  He was put through to the next round.  I hope that he wins and becomes like some of the well known singers that we have seen here.

The video is on Youtube for anyone to watch.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BewknNW2b8Y&feature=aso  It is funny, when you love something so much, you can see it in the face of the person doing it.  It would be wonderful if everyone could find something that made them smile and feel good about themselves.  It also shows that no matter what situation you are put in, or come from, something good can come from it.

When you love to do something, it does not matter what anyone else thinks.  Do it because you love it.  Do it often.  Make yourself smile.  Like the saying goes, "Sing like no one can hear you, dance like no one is watching".  You are what matters, no one else.

And the cops just stood there!

Have you ever been so scared or so flabbergasted that you could not speak?  If you can believe it, this happened to my sisters and I.  You have to understand this is hard to accomplish in our family.

The day started just like any other.  Mom was off to work at the dress shop.  We off to do whatever kids did on the weekends.  Dad did some gardening and chopping wood for the winter.   We all came home around 4 as usual.   We started getting things ready for dinner, setting the table, making salad and laying out things to do later.    Then it was time to go to town to pick up Mom. 

We all piled in the car.  No seat belts back then.  Windows down and off we went to town.  The ride was just like any other. Singing at the top of our lungs, any song that we remembered the words to.   Past Ridgewood road, past Blaylocks mansion, past three mile road.  Along the lake and then out of no where here comes a car up behind us.  Dad waves the car around us on the straight stretch and they pass.  Then the car slows down and makes dad slow down.  He figures it is some tourist that has seen something, so he puts on his blinker and heads out to pass the car.  Mom is waiting to be picked up. 
When we get up even with the other car, it speeds up.  It is some kids in the car that are now wanting to play chicken.  I can see my dads face change.

My dad is a fairly mild mannered man, but can lose his temper when provoked.  He is being provoked.  This cat and mouse game with the cars is starting to make him really angry.  All he can think of is the fact he has three little girls in the car with him. 

We rounded the corner by the old A&W Drive Inn, that has long since gone the way of most.  By now the kid is driving really fast.  He won't let us go by and he won't drive at a reasonable speed with us behind him.  Dad hits the bridge and steps on the gas.  Unbenounced to us there is an RCMP sitting at the enterance to the bridge.  Dad finally gets by the kid at the other end of the bridge.  The cop puts on his lights.  Both cars pull over to the side of the road.   We are all giggling cause we got to drive fast and pass someone on the bridge.  We thought this was all really neat until daddy got out of the car and slammed the door telling us to stay put.

He walked right past the cop that was standing there, walked up to the kid driving the car and we thought he was going to pull the kid through his window.  He did a lot of gesturing, which today I would have known what he was saying.  His face was red, he was yelling at the kid.  When he finished, he turned, walked right past the cop and got in our car and left.  We went down and picked up Mom and headed home.  All of us jumping around trying to tell our mommy what had just happened.  Dad yelling at us to be quiet and sit down.

On the way home, we were about two miles out the lake when the lights of the police car came on behind us.  Very much expecting to be ticketed, or taken to jail, dad pulled over and sat waiting for the police officer to come to the window.  When the police arrived at the window, he very calmly asked if dad was Mr. Cartlidge.  Dad said yes.  Then something that was very unexpected happened.  The officer asked dad if everyone was ok and did he want to press charges.   I don't remember what dad said, but I never did hear anymore about it, so I suspect the fact that he had scared the kid to death when he walked up to the car once stopped, was more than enough to make dad content.  The officer said to have a nice day and left. 

We went home and started dinner, never to speak of it again.  At least not till we all get together and start talking about driving in the car with mom and dad.  Then it comes out.  The day that dad walked right past the police and they just stood there.

The things we did

Is your family the brunt of all the jokes?  Do you spend time thinking of things your family has done that will make people laugh?  Are you the one they laugh about?  Do you make up things just so you are like everyone else?  Is your family fun or funny?  Do they laugh with you or at you.  Are you the one everyone jokes about or the one that makes all the jokes?

I am here to tell you that my family is the best.  They do and say things that keep everyone giggling.  We have fun and laugh about all that happens to us.  No one can ever say this family is stuffy. 

It was nothing for us girls to grab a can of whipped cream and smush it all over our dad's head.  Not a good idea.  You see dad was very particular about the way his hair looks.  He would chase us all over the house trying to catch us, which he always did.  My god could dad run. Then we would pay.  Whipped cream everywhere.  It has also happened with shaving cream.  He was usually mad about it happening, but was laughing by the time he caught us and covered us with whatever we had used on him.  He did not stop at one of us either, all the people involved got the wrath of dad. Then you had to clean up the mess throughout the house.   Mom always knew what we were about to do and warned us, about what would happen.  We never listened, at least I never did. 

I remember the day I got caught smoking.  OMG I wanted to die.  Or at least I did when mom and dad got done.  My sister and I got home from school to find both of them sitting waiting for us.  There was a pack of cigarettes in dad's hand.  He did not smoke anymore.  Why did he have cigarettes?  We, Deb and I were about to find out.  "Do either of you smoke" he asked?  "Of course not"! we said.  We had been seen by him or mom or someone that squealed on us.  Not bad enough that he had seen us smoking, but we had just been caught in a lie.  Bold faced lie to boot.  He made us sit there and smoke until we both turned every shade of green you could imagine.  I guess he figured if he made us sick enough, we would stop.  Worked for a while.  I went back to smoking and did until 5 years ago when I quit cold turkey.  Deb smoked off and on for a while.  She quit a few years back if I remember right.  All of us kids smoked for a time.  Last count, all of us have quit.   Just took a while for it to sink in I guess. 

Driving, now that is another story all together.  All of the kids in our family got their drivers licences before they turned 20.  Not me.  I am one that has to push all the boundaries until nearly caught.  Now its not to say I did not drive.  I drove all the time.  It was usually someone elses car and no one ever asked me if I had a licence, and I never offered the information.  I can remember the police pulling me over on more than one occasion and me talking or crying my way out of showing a licence or registration or insurance card.  Not sure how I did that, but I was good at it.  This is not something that I would recommend anyone try.  I just happened to live in a small town where you knew everyone, including the police and everyone knew you.  I did however  get my licence when I was 33.  I moved to a small town called Fort Nelson, where I met the man I would marry.  He had company vehicles and for me to drive, I had to prove I had a licence.  Off we went to the drivers bureau, where I took my test and the driving test and walked out with my own drivers licence.  I was so proud.  Now I was legal.  Took the fun out of everything.  Who wants to drive when you can.  LOL.  Now I drive everywhere.

As a family we did a lot of fun things.  We have had fights, both good and bad, water and food water fights were all of our favourite.  When I say water fight, I mean hoses, buckets and any other article that held large amounts of water.  Even if you were not wanting to, you got involved and were soaked to the skin when all was said and done.  God we have fun.    I miss all the fun times when we lived at home.  We have parents that put up with a lot of crap from us.  The lies, the tales, the truth and all that fell between.   We were lucky.  Our parents understood we were kids and would try and do things that we keep us entertained.  We did a lot of camping and things that pertained to the outdoors.  We were taught from day one what was good and what was wrong or bad.  They had strict parents.  Raised in familys that came through the dirty thirtys and from farming communities, I think mom (the good girl) going with a "bad boy" (or so everyone thought) and my dad being the "bad boy" (played drums in a band and rode a Harley motorcycle) may have had something to do with the way they raised us.   We were punished for the bad things and praised for the good.  Anyway, we had and always have fun.