Thank you

I do not do my job for gratitude, I do it for a paycheck...as socially incorrect as it is to admit it. My job can be challenging. I work hard. I make a difference. I sometimes like what I do...sometimes. But ever now and then someone will thank me for what I do...and mean it. It feels good. Maybe that is the sometimes.

A germ by any other name...

Listen up people...

It's a staph infection, S-T-A-P-H...that's staphylococcus. It is not a STAFF infection. Hospital acquired infections occur, but they are never, ever, referred to as staff infections. The proper term is nosocomial.

You would be amazed at how often this causes concern and confusion....now you know.

I call bullshit

I briefly heard a man talking on a radio talk show this morning...and it was brief, I will admit, as I don't listen to talk radio. But just the one statement I heard sent me on a mental rampage. He said something along the lines of, people were being financially exploited because of all the liquor stores and lottery outlets in a certain neighborhood. What? Sorry, I have to call bullshit! I don't care what kind of stores are in my neighborhood...I don't have to buy what they're selling. I go to the grocery every week...I walk right past the cookies, candy and chips. Nobody is making me spend my money.

Stores are not going to flourish where they are not supported. If you have 3 liquor store in a mile, it's because they can all get enough business to succeed. And you think because you ban a business from a geographical location...an absurdity in itself with maybe the exception of schools, that people are not going to haul their asses to the nearest available vendor of what they want? Again...bullshit.

Business are just that, a business selling a product that enough people want and will spend money for to keep that business viable. And it doesn't have to be the local neighborhood bar.What happened to freedom of choice and personal responsibility? If someone is spending all their money getting drunk and hoping to hit it big on the lottery they are not being exploited...they're being stupid. Where they live has nothing to do with it. I wonder if there are any mental health and substance abuse clinics nearby...and how's business?

Shiver me timbers

I was awoke this morning at 5AM by a growl that sent my body into immediate fight or flight response...those old primal responses are alive and well in this modern human.

I share my home with a 90+ pound black lab. He does most of his growling in his sleep, something I find endlessly amusing...not menacing. But this morning he let out a sound that I had me wide awake and heart pounding, adrenaline flowing, in an instant. Now mind you, this dog was nowhere near me...in fact we were on different floors. I had never heard him utter such a vicious sound and I have had him over 7 years...that suddenly explains all the scratching, 7 year itch!!! ha ha ha. Okay, you had to be there.

Anyway...I jump out of bed, throw on a gown and head for the stairs. There was an instant of hesitation as I considered arming myself from a selection of available weapons...swords, knives, whips, chains...for the sake of honesty, I will admit that I do not own a chain that is weapon worthy. About this time my dog barks/yips and I fore go armament and go to check out the situation.

My dog is standing at the glass back door, hackles at full attention and the motion sensor light is on. Now it is good to note that whatever has him acting like a vicious guard dog is actually still on the outside of my house. I walk over to the door to have a look and to my dismay...there are, count them 1, 2, 3 pugs standing on my deck. The three of these dogs combined would add up to half of my dogs weight. So what is his issue that has woke me at 5 in the morning ready for battle??? They are licking the empty take-out container that his dinner had been in. You got to be kidding me...are you senile? I tell him to go lay down...after assuring him that he was a good baby and I go back to bed.

But apparently, at least one of these pugs is horribly confused and think they live here and want in. How do they express this desire? But of course, they cry, whine and yes...even howl. A thin, nails on chalk board, plaintive cry. I wonder which power in the universe is finding this roll on the floor, side aching, funny?

Hilarious.

I consider my options, most of which involve me getting up, dressed and heading outdoors. I opt for a pillow over my head and hopes that the racket will be annoying enough to wake up another member of my sleeping family. Fat chance.

I eventually win the quest for sleep...for a few hours. I get up this morning, start coffee and go to let the dog out and there is still one lone pug waiting at my back door. Little dude, on second glance dudette, you are horribly lost and confused. This is not your house, you do not live here and NO you can not come in. I eventually had to chase her off and close my gate. I don't have to close the gate for my dog, he knows his boundaries.

I've never seen these 3 dogs before...perhaps a new neighbor. But I have a few suggestions...keep your dogs in YOUR yard, I already have one and don't want yours. Not to mention the legal and health issues...and danger to your little dogs running around in the dark. Second, put a collar and tags on them. At least that way I can call and wake your ass up at 5AM to come and get them.

Sweeping dust into a pile

A random assortment of thoughts...just how my brain works.

I saw the word "undomiciled" today. So now we have a politically correct term for homeless. Personally, I hope it doesn't catch on.

I walked out of work today and wondered if it was raining...it was a very light sprinkle. I confirmed to myself that it was indeed raining when I noted the rain freckles on the sidewalk. That's a term I'd like to see catch on. "Look, there are rain freckles on the windshield." I have no clue why my brain thought of rain freckles...maybe because it's been undomiciled.

Have I mentioned that reading my blog is a waste of time? It is solely for my enjoyment and the unclutterment of my mind. Is unclutterment a word? It is now...my blog, my word.

I guess that is all for now. I've given the world two new words and a cute and totally useless phrase. Hey, what do you want for free?

An open letter to the Louisville Fire Fighters and Crusade for Children

First off, I support your dedication and your cause. We write a check every year and drop change at numerous locations throughout the summer. But when you come into our neighborhood at 10AM on a Saturday morning I must cry FOUL!

Have you ever considered the panic you may cause by the wail of sirens in a neighborhood?

Not to mention the sheer lack of courtesy. There are lots of people that enjoy sleeping in on Saturday...or worse just dropped into bed after a long night at work. Nurses, for example, work 7PM-7AM...you allow them just enough time to fall asleep before blasting through their neighborhood...repeatedly. This morning, vehicles kept circling our block, creating a nonstop raucous for at least 30 minutes.

I am reconsidering my donation. Maybe if enough of us do so, you'll go away...or at least rethink your tactics. There are plenty of quiet, considerate, organizations out there that would love to take my money.

Quiet

I was asked yesterday why I haven't been writing. I've also had people express concern because I've been quiet...not a normal state of being. I'm not sure, I've just been tired, preoccupied, distracted. The little voice inside my head that find so much amusement in even the inconsequential has been absent and I've been too tired to go looking for it.

Today was an unexpected day off from work. It feels much like a snow day back in school. Get up in the morning, start getting ready and the phone rings...no work. It doesn't happen often enough to be distressing. So I undressed and went back to bed, wondering if I'd be able to go back to sleep...sleep isn't always the easiest thing for me. I woke up three hours later. I feel much better now, like a starving man that has food handed to him. For the first time in a while I don't feel so exhausted...though after eating breakfast, I think I could go back to sleep.

But while I am sitting here alone, in the quiet, I'll share a few thoughts...are you just dying with anticipation? OOOOoooo, there's the old me.

Train derailment at the zoo...

How many of us have ridden that train? Goes to prove danger lurks around every corner even where we perceive none. I mean, we believe roller coasters are safe but there is still some element of danger...why else would we ride them if not for the adrenaline rush? But the train at the zoo??? I can remember laughing that we could get out and jog faster. It was a kiddie ride! Nobody would have been on there with an infant with the slightest concern for their safety. I wish them all well and 100% recovery...though a suspect some kids may have a lifelong fear of trains.

Survival...

Humans as a species are remarkably resilient. Nothing new in that sentiment. Some recent observations and conversations led me to thinking HOW we survive. It's as simple as one step in front of the other. Every time someone is faced with a crisis, be it death, divorce, betrayal or personal obstacle, that individual makes a choice...be defeated or move on. Sometimes a person will hesitate, admit defeat, and be stuck in one place for a time...but it is seldom the person remains there. It is just not compatible with survival...or I suppose with the human psyche. Or maybe I just don't hang around with quitters.

The well is dry of deep thoughts now. I have a bonus day off from work, the sun is shining and it's cool outside so maybe I'll find something to get into...or maybe I'll take that nap.

Treasure Hunt

One of the annoying things about living with other people, and especially children, is the fact that your belongings don't stay put. This is especially true, but not limited to, dishes in my house. Tonight I went on a treasure hunt through a drawer looking for my ice cream scoop. I know I own one...actually two. Eventually I found one, which was all I really needed.

I can't help but wonder if there is someone, somewhere, dipping out ice cream and thinking they didn't know they owned an ice cream scoop. Enjoy!