Jell-O Wars IV

The day started out looking nasty as heavy storms passed through. It was still heavily overcast when we headed out. But as the teams set up for battle the clouds magically parted and the sun made an appearance...leading eventually to mild sunburns for a few. The teams were red and green. There was smack talk and boasting, all in good humor. Some take it way too serious and some declared, "Screw the rules." They just wanted to chuck Jell-O. And chuck Jell-O they did. Refrigeration was arranged at a local restaurant for the massive amount of Jell-O mixed up as ammo...about 120 gallons in total. You may ask, how long does it take two teams to fling 120 gallons on Jell-O at each other? About 30 minutes. This is not a few friends getting together for a day activity. This is a year in discussions, months in planning, weeks in production and hours in deployment. And logistics for next year are already being discussed.

Happy

I went to dinner last night with a group of friends. As we sat around talking, as we do, a friend of mine turned to me and said, "You look happy." Earlier in the evening we had discussed the stresses of our jobs, his current and my former, and the change I had made. He is, where I was, in mindset...he is burned out. I know job dissatisfaction is common, but burned out is different, it's...malignant. Demoralizing. Detrimental. I felt my lifespan slipping away from the daily stress, felt sick from it. My husband concurs that he could see it in me. I am glad there is something new to see. Glad I look happy. Glad I am happy.

The mish mash edition

This week has been so long. I do not like being in training. I prefer the feeling that I know what I am doing. They say I am doing fine. I don't feel fine. I feel disorganized and uncertain. They have not given me an expected length of training. I suspect it will be brief...perhaps less than 2 weeks. They are anxious to get me going. My application went to credentialing today. The quickest ever they said. If that passes, I am free to work on my own. I know there will be support, but taking this on solo is scary. So much responsibility...and yet, no stress. I have not come home one day this week wired. I have not even quipped about needing a drink. It feels wrong...I think I was way too used to that level of strain. I feel like I am forgetting something. I try to stress about it...it just doesn't happen. I am not surrounded by impending doom. I knew that my previous work environment was unhealthy for me, but I don't think I really knew the level. I am actually feeling better physically. I have not been woke once this week by the alarm clock. I am waking on my own. I have time to make breakfast. And I am still getting home about the same as before. Even the traffic, that I so dreaded,  has not been nearly as bad as I thought. I look forward to getting settled in, finding my stride...and my confidence. I made a good choice. The only nagging fear I have now, is that the job will evaporate from under me.

Welcome Summer. The official first day coming next week. It has felt like late Summer here for awhile with temps in the 90s. I hate hot weather. I hate cold weather. I live in the wrong city. But time to bring on the Summer activities, geek style.

This weekend, I present to you....Jell-O Wars IV. Just a friendly get together of geeks trying to plaster one another with Jell-O. It's sticky, squishy, delicishy fun.

Next weekend is Renn Faire. An opportunity, for us people that think dressing in costumes should be more frequent than Halloween, to pull out the boots, horns, tails, ears, swords...whatever makes us happy and spend a day with like minded people.

And of course, the following weekend will fall on the eve of July 4th...need I say more?

So the next thing I know, it will be mid-July. I will undoubtedly have the new job firmly in hand. I will still be complaining that it is too blasted hot, but, ahhhh, there will be tomatoes fresh from the vine.



Yum!

First day

I promise not to do a daily blow by blow of my new job, but...

It was my first day. Doesn't that justify a little attention?

It was a good day. Enough said? Pretty much. But I tend to be a bit more long winded than that. It still feels very comfortable. I felt welcomed. I am only a smidgen overwhelmed...not even overwhelmed, that's the wrong word. I feel behind. I am used to knowing who, what, when and where...and even how. I'm used to people knowing me...though I think I can enjoy some anonymity for awhile. I did get a surprising big hug from a nurse while touring...she had been my supervisor many years ago.

The work looks manageable. It is still in flux. They have made leaps and bounds from what I understand, but there is more they want to do. It takes time.

There were lots of surprises, not bad ones...just logistics.

I was pleasantly surprised about my drive. I took a different route each direction and traffic wasn't bad...not what I expected at all. Generally, everything was so much smaller than what I was used to. Maybe I can be happy being a big (medium?) fish in a small pond.

The ad combo

If you spend anytime on the internet, you know there are ads everywhere. I tend to ignore them, as I dare say most people do. Or maybe I should say I thought I ignored them. But recently, I have experienced a few really badly placed ads in relation to the content of the page I am viewing...so I must be seeing the ads, right?

Today, I noticed the "word of the day" on my Google page was something I did not know and was bored enough to click to investigate further.

kerf

   \KURF\ , noun;

1.

A cut or incision made by a saw or the like in a piece of wood.

2.

In mining, a deep cut a few inches high, used to undermine a portion of a coal or mineral seam.

3.

The act of cutting or carving.

verb:

1.

To cut or carve.

The ad above it, for a children's charity, shows a baby with a cleft palate. Bad placement.

I also had a friend recently post a picture of her new figure as she is quite proud of the weight she
has lost. The photo shows her with her midriff bare. The ad below it was for gastric bypass surgery.
Bad placement.

I know the ads are random...but jeez.

Out with the old, in with the new.

That is usually the sentiment at New Years. Time to recreate, get back on track, start anew. Resolutions are made and broken...as soon as the hangover fades. I gave up on resolutions a long time ago. I know where my weaknesses are.

The prospect of starting a new job, however, has me all ready to set off down a new path. I have changed purses...I did resist buying a new one, as I had a perfectly good one. I have reset my alarm clock. I get to sleep 35 minutes later! That would be much better news, if my sleep cycles weren't screwed to hell at the moment. Sleeping in a three hours down, one hour up, cycle, um, yeah...sucks. I have bought new pants. I needed scrubs. I recently bought new tee shirts. I have ordered lab coats...paid for by the company, thank you very much. I've bought new socks. I want new shoes, but keep telling myself that I really do not need them...I don't, I swear.  I've had my hair cut and colored. Though that had nothing to do with  the job, just routine maintenance. I want to go wash and clean out my car. Why? I have no idea. Washing the old job away and down the drain? I am greatly reminded of the "going back to school mode" from being a kid. New school year, new stuff. I need to pack my bag for all the stuff that will be at home in my new desk. I remind myself not to look like I am moving in on my first day there...to take it slow. Essentials first, then slowly move in. Don't want to scare them. Which brings up a whole new thought...

I'm weird. I know this...and embrace it. Not everyone does. I know, I know, I don't get it either. But I have seen that look one time too many when people try not to freak out when they discover they are among the strange and unusual of humanity. I have tried to be different...it doesn't work. Just like resolutions, eventually my true self makes an appearance. What makes me weird? Well at least by normal standards...one, I have a quirky sense of humor. Not everyone gets it. Example: I call a company yesterday and identify myself by first name and my company and city. The lady on the other ends says, "They ask me to get a last name." I respond, "Do you need mine or will any last name do?" I get dead silence. I thought it was hilarious and well...obvious.

Second, I have strange, again by many standards, hobbies. The Ren Faires most people will let pass. There are those that would go and those that would not...but they don't find it highly unusual. On the other hand, dressing up to go to movies (pirate for Pirates of the Caribbean, etc), larping, Jello Wars and such, raises an eyebrow or two. I embrace the uniqueness of my hobbies and like most people that enjoy what they do, I like to share. But...

I will be working in a tiny...tiny office....seven people, including me, max. I need to fit in, if only that it will make the office more comfortable for everyone. I need to be quasi normal...for a while anyway. On the other hand, two of those people have known me in all my odd ball glory for five years or more. They know who I am...or what. And they are the bosses. Maybe the office will be expecting my brand of odd. Guess I'll have to play it by ear...too bad I'm tone deaf.

Saying good-bye

I walked away this afternoon from my place of employment after 14 years...and ah, one day. It was not easy, but I know it was the right thing to do, for me. I can only hope that it will still be the right thing 6...12...36 months down the road. I walked out with my head held high and only a few tears. I have had many a great compliment in the month since I announced my departure. It seems I am smart and efficient. I seem to be very entertaining and blessed with the ability to make people feel good about themselves. I was told repeatedly that I would be missed. I am no fool. I know in a few months time someone will have stepped into my place and there won't be much looking back. That is the way of such things. So, out with the old and in with the new. I start the new job on Monday...because I am not smart enough to have figured out that a long weekend (or more) might have been a good idea. But that's okay. I am excited to get started. I like starting new things. New people, new place, new focus. I hope the new stays awhile. I hope I am not mired down in the drudgery of same old, same old, too soon.

So raise a glass to me. Wish me best luck. I am off to prove old dogs can indeed learn new tricks...

and if that fails...I'll just change the rules.

A decade and four

Today I celebrate 14 years at my job...tomorrow is my last day. Time to move on to other things. Here's hoping the swamp is a little higher and dryer...not so many alligators chomping at my back side on a daily basis. I think it will be good. A nice change of pace. But it sure is scary to strike out on your own after this long a time. Starting over. Who would have thought it?



Good luck to me.

I have a story to tell...

but it evades the front of my brain. I feel the need to write, but can't for the life of me figure out what the topic is. It's like having something on the tip of your tongue. You know your brain is searching and can almost make the leap. There is something there, waiting to escape onto the page. I get shadowy glimpses as it passes through the mindscape, but when I try to focus on it...it recedes into the darkness. I guess it will take form and let me know when it's ready. Maybe it needs more time to mature. There will be no line before it's time.

Oasis

I realize I have created myself a refuge in my bedroom. An oasis away from the daily bump and grind. I have just about all the senses covered.

Sight: My east facing windows are shuttered with heavy dark wood. Even on the brightest of mornings there is but a sliver of light to allow me to know if it is daylight yet. The alarm clocks digits are red and set to dim. There is no other light source in the room.

Sound: I have a white noise machine. It helps drown out intrusive sound from the other occupants of the house.

Taste: Not much I can do with this one while sleeping. But there is a bottle of water and crackers at bedside.

Smell: I have several sources of scent available to me. There is the plug in air freshener and the linen spray, both in lavender...a scent supposedly for relaxation and sleep. I also have an electric tart warmer. (That sounds kind of kinky after my previous bump and grind comment).

Feel/tactile: I have flannel sheets on my bed. A personal preference. I have high thread count, sateen cotton pillow cases on two pillows and a velour  type case on the body pillows...yes, I have lots of pillows, in various lengths and firmness. My blanket is as soft as a kitten.

All of this contributes to a place I enjoy going to at the end of the day.

Changes in latitude, changes in attitude

Nothing remains quite the same.


I don't think this is what Jimmy Buffett had in mind...and I'd much rather be writing about my impending trip sea side.


I start a new job in just over a week. I've known about it long enough to have contemplated the many changes that will occur. Way too many to go into...and boring to boot. But there is one that I wanted to look at a little closer. And when I want to examine my own head, I write. So here goes...


I have worked 14 years at an organization that is based on/ran by/identifies with the Jewish faith. I have learned much and highly respect their beliefs. I am soon going to work at a facility ran by the Catholic faith. A religion I gave up several decades ago. This isn't so much about beliefs, as it is the outward manifestations. At the Jewish owned building there is little to remind you, that you are indeed inside a building that holds close ties to Judaism. There are a couple of murals, prayers I believe, written in Hebrew. If you pay attention you may see a Yarmulke. During holidays, such as Passover there are special foods offered in the cafeteria and during Hanukkah a Menorah is displayed. It is very easy to forget the roots of the organization.


The new facility, however, is totally different. On my brief tour there, it was undeniably Christian. I think there was a cross or crucifix in every room I walked into...including the offices. I am curious to see as I spend more time there, what other manifestations of Catholicism appear. I know there are nuns there. I believe some may even reside on premises. 


I am curious to see how the holidays are different. Jewish do not celebrate Christmas, so no Christmas decorations were allowed...only "winter themed" ones. Easter is not a holiday. We were, however, allowed to mark Halloween within certain loose guidelines. I suspect at a Catholic organization that Christmas and Easter will be big deals...and Halloween (a pagan holiday) likely banned. We shall see. I will admit that I think I might like seeing the Christmas decorations...as long as they don't show up in October, as they do in the stores.


But then...

How do I say this?

Let me count the ways...

I am trying to be a little more creative in my thought processes rather than just say what I think. Not that there is anything wrong with saying what you think. I frequently do. But nobody really wants to read about what is sucking in my life at the moment...nor honestly do I want to beat that particular dead horse. But I think I am tired and I can't seem to find two brain cells to rub together to get friction. Not that I would necessarily get fire with friction. I think my brain cells are a little mushy at the moment. They need drying out...on a beach. Or drowning in some fine, high octane, tequila. I think I'll go to bed, switch the brain channel to Mexico and see if I can't order up a grand dose mental vacation.

New and...improved?

I have redesigned it. It isn't quicker or faster. It isn't smarter. But I was bored, so...

Have I mentioned...

how much I hate bugs? Not every bug. Many are useful. But some are nothing, to my knowledge, but down right annoying. After my previous post expounding on my great adventures in the wild, I must share that I HATE ticks and chiggers! Oh, and mosquitoes! I bug sprayed prior to leaving yesterday morning, paying special attention to my waist band and ankles...as last Fall I got a severe case of the chiggers. I found the tick yesterday when I got home. Today the small cluster of chigger bites on the back of my arm has made itself known. I immediately had a flash of lying down in the grass very briefly, maybe a minute, even less...stupid me. Now I have the creepy crawlies.

And in case you still think chiggers burrow under your skin....Creepy crawlies from my previous adventure.

LARPing...from the other side of the curtain

I have written on this subject before, I am sure. I am a self admitted geek. I have a co-worker that has some vague idea about what larping is, she says I'm a "L"oser (with laughter...and love). I have had more than one person look at me as if I were insane while trying to explain the activity. I am weird. I'm okay with that...but then apparently so are a great number of people I know. Our Facebook group has greater than, that would be this symbol  >, 250 members. Anyway, I am not here to defend the hobby. And for those that may find this, and are actually still reading...

LARP: A role-playing game in which the participants assume the roles of fictional characters. Participants determine the actions of their characters based on their characterization, and the actions succeed or fail according to a formal system of rules and guidelines. Within the rules, players have the freedom to improvise; their choices shape the direction and outcome of the game. There is a variety of role-playing game in which players perform their character's physical actions, known as live action role-playing games.

In our case, a swords and dagger, cloak and claw variety. So, anyway...

I spent somewhere in the neighborhood 13 hours running around in the local state park yesterday. Fresh air. Sunshine. Activity. Many people much younger than myself...and a lot that act older than me by degrees. I am learning the ropes, so to speak, of putting together the plot of the story. It's sort of hard to explain. I am, one of many, that is there to guide the story and provide entertainment...we are what happens to the players. I've been doing this side of the game for a year or so and am just now earning some trust of those that run the game. I am getting bigger parts to play, more story, more talking...more fear that I am going to screw something up. Imagine if you had to make something up, as our encounters with players are random, and you only know but a tiny piece of the whole fabric of a story. It's like having read a chapter, or sometimes even a page, of a book and having someone quiz you on the book. Sometime it feels like that book is their biography. They know more than you.

After having played in games a decade or so, God I am old, I am seeing how hard it is to run one. The props, make up, costuming, characters, timing, rules...keeping it all straight. It is all very much like a play. People need to know their lines (with only a general outline instead of a well rehearsed script), be dressed appropriate to the character and be in the proper position at the right time. Then throw in the improv. People don't show up, things get lost, something takes longer than expected and runs into another planned encounter. And sometimes, people don't react as expected...no matter how hard you guide them to something. So you suddenly find yourself scrambling to keep the flow as your wrecked story line goes tumbling over the dam. What fun! Sometimes it's not a big deal, but sometimes this is a plot line that is supposed to flow out into the future of the game, to be built upon and revisited...you know, in the sequel.

It is hard work and hot (outdoors) and gritty (did I mention costuming and makeup...oh and outdoors, in the summer heat...with like, bugs) and I look forward to it every time.

A nice compliment/Saying good-bye

A doctor came by today to say good-bye. He had resigned to move on to another position prior to my decision to do the same. Today was his last day...I still have two weeks. He told me that he would truly miss me, that no matter his mood, I was always able to put a smile on his face. He continued, saying that I possessed a rare talent. I took that as a compliment. Brightening someones day, when I am just being me...sarcastic, opinionated, flippant, is a bonus. As he started to walk away, he turned back and said, "And you're a damn fine care manager too." I appreciated the vote of confidence. One of those things I hope to take with me, the other, I hope to leave behind.

Where my brain is...

I have to ask myself why my last three blog posts have included food references...pictures even.

Another one of life's questions

I have previously considered, and written about, the things we do day in and day out without really thinking about them. This morning, I realized another one.

I know few people that eat the heel of the bread. Around here, we open the loaf and dig beyond that first slice for the launching pad of a great...or even mediocre, sandwich. This is repeated throughout the life of the loaf until end meets end. I hate to think of how many years I have been repeating this pattern over and over. Then, suddenly this morning, while making toast, my brain asks, "Why don't you toss out that impediment of bread?" Permanently removing it from the equation. Not like it serves a purpose. Doesn't keep the bread fresher. Doesn't serve as bookend to the loaf. Hmmm, I wondered. Why haven't I thought of this before? Why today?

Then I twisted the twisty tie around the loose end of the bread sleeve and tossed it back in the cabinet...only missing the squishy soft slices from the center.

Crash and burn

Apparently, I have hit my emotional wall. That place where little things become overwhelming. Jeez, it seems I've used that word a lot lately...overwhelmed. Therein lies the problem, when life exceeds your coping mechanisms. I was chugging along just fine, until someone had to throw their problems under my bus. Can't control the world...despite my every effort. This too shall pass. A good nights sleep and I get to start over tomorrow.

But, maybe first...ice cream.

I eat my problems. Sue me.

Peas

I am feeling a bit overwhelmed...not terribly surprising considering the mouthful I have chomped off. I have great faith in myself. I know I can...and I usually do. But every now and then the plate gets a little too full. I am having trouble concentrating on completing one job as I try to prepare for the other. My mind is moving forward, out pacing the passing of time. I am ten steps ahead and my ass is trying to catch up. This is nothing new to me. I am a take charge, move ahead person...once I make a decision. Making the decision can be a much slower process, but then I jump in feet first, full steam ahead.

I was explaining to someone today that I am a visual thinker. I often relate experiences to images in my head. I don't know if I am explaining that clearly, but heres the point...life feels like a plate full of peas and someone keeps dumping mashed potatoes into the center causing the peas to run over. The peas are what I'm leaving behind, the mashed potatoes what I am pursuing and I'm tired of chasing peas.

We have lift off

The title comes from a former post, if you are lost. Come on, you have to keep up. Life moves fast.

I have jettisoned myself into infinity and beyond. Without a safety net. I took a new job. Leaving behind 14 years of seniority and everything, person and place that I know as far as work goes. I am praying to all the powers that be, that it not be a bumpy road.

Make-up and illusion

As previously posted, just a few of my "characters"...

My 1st zombie for Louisville Zombie Walk 

A LARP character

Snake...sort of.

Elf...I actually did this for work.

Witch

Cat...technically, Puss from Puss 'n' Boots

Nyx

Some were simple...some were not.

Don't let the eye fool you

The differences are obvious, correct? It's the same photo, but one has been altered. I love photography. I love to play with light and color. (I also like playing with make-up...but that can be the next entry.) I do not, however, own Photoshop...or any of the other, I am sure, more advanced, softwares that are out there. Nor have I ever taken a class on photography or photo editing. The above alteration was accomplished in a few minutes, using Picasa, a Google app. Is it perfect? Hardly. After all I used myself as a model. Is there a point? Absolutely. If I can make this much difference using Picasa, imagine the possibilities. Also, I am using a Canon 8.0 mega pixel Power Shot camera. Imagine if I had an attractive woman, a good camera (I love mine despite it being outdated) and top of the line editing software. All those gorgeous models...sheesh. I bet you wouldn't recognize most of them on the street. Okay, sure, they still have me in looks, body, money...the list goes on. Just don't believe everything you see.

There is one change I am particularly proud of. Oh, and when I start playing like this, it is a sure sign that I am bored. Now you can play "spot the difference."

Have fun.

NCIS

This is one of the few television shows I almost watch. Almost, as in the TV is on, and I may or may not be doing other things, like reading. It is unusual for me to watch TV and more so for me to be paying undivided attention. Anyway...

Just like books, I sometimes catch something that just makes me smile. NCIS had such a line the other night. 

Gibbs: “Glad you could come, Mike.” 

Mike Franks: “Me, too. Offer me a drink.” 

Gibbs: "It's 6:00 in the morning.” 

Mike Franks: “So float a Cheerio in it!" 

Love it!!!

Puzzled?

I often write about things that...I can't write about. Legal issues. Not my story to tell. Too much personal information. Emotionally painful crap that I just don't want to share but I need to work out in my head. Writing is therapy. People that are involved or in the know, understand exactly what I reference. It's hidden in the words, but easily unlocked if you possess a super-friend decipher ring. They don't come in cereal boxes and I guard them jealously. Why do I mention this? Because I have anxiety to work off...and I can't talk about it. Damn.

I have stepped outside my comfort zone. It isn't irreversible, yet. Though I am heading at a pretty good clip down the runway...aiming straight for the edge of a cliff with nothing but homemade wings. I am not so sure how these bastards are going to hold up either. I'm ready for the leap...I think. The anxiety is compounded by the fact that someone else is in the control tower. They've approved my flight plan and started the count down, but I am still waiting for the "go". Houston, we do not have liftoff. Just kind of stalling on the lift pad. Burning fuel. Fueling anxiety. I am not good at not being in control. Could you guess? Patience is not my virtue and honestly, I'm not sure what is. So here I sit, teed up for lift off, surrounded by my flimsy but hard earned wings, questioning my sanity and waiting for the control tower to give me the green light...and they have all the time in the world.

The death of a terrorist

I am not an expert. I don't watch the news regularly or generally follow politics. I found the news of Osama bin Laden's death on Facebook not CNN. He was, in my opinion, a crazed man that twisted religion to support, and gather followers, for his subversive ideas. But I find the celebrations in the streets following the announcement of his assassination unsettling. It feels wrong to celebrate death.

I spent a little time looking around the internet this evening...even CNN. I listened to the local and national news. I wondered what other people thought and felt. The range of emotions were wide, from cheering in the streets to quiet reflection. I looked inside myself and asked, how do I feel about this?

Am I glad he's dead? Yes, I believe I am.
Do I believe his death will make a difference? I fear not. There is always another radical willing to step up. They'll just make him a martyr. I fear retaliation.
Should it have been done? I think I would have rather he was captured...but that would have just led to a long drawn out legal battle and all sorts of security issues. This probably was better. After all, it's already been 9 1/2 years since the attacks in 2001.
Do I feel better about the celebrations? No.

I have come to a conclusion with my soul searching. I'd like to think the people are cheering, not because a man was killed, but because of the perceived end of the evil he stood for.

Naive? Perhaps.

Stories

A few of us were sitting around the other day and a variety of stories surfaced as we compared experiences. Some of us are old enough to vividly remember the April 3, 1974 tornadoes and the devastation afterwards. A couple of us had been burned, physical, not emotional, or knew someone who had been. We compared some of our "war" stories. This was not a competition of one-ups-manship, it was just a loose conversation about life experiences. One of the much younger women commented, that we sure had a lot of stories. I told her that is what happens when you get old. I prefer to think it's what happens when you live life.

I do have lot of stories. Perhaps it's the "why not" attitude. Perhaps it's being in the right place at the wrong time, wrong place right time...or exactly where I was needed just then. It's funny how the stories come back to light sometimes. Things I have not thought about in years will suddenly surface. I need to write about them when they come up, as the sink back into the murk of my memory just as quickly as they rise to the surface.

I am sitting here trying to pull some of life's tidbits and few are to be found.

I once had a horse flip over, landing on top of me. The horse trying to get up was more traumatic, I think, at least for me. I was on the bottom. I got up and got back on. It wasn't until years later when Christopher Reeve was hurt that I realized how lucky I was. It wasn't the only hard knock I have experienced with a horse...and I will still ride given the opportunity.

I once sat on the ground and played with tiger cubs. I have stroked along the sides of a full grown lioness. Neither were at a zoo. Neither were sedated, muzzled or caged.

Actually, I have handled or experienced a great number of animals, many in the wild.

I was bumped twice, by what I am certain was a shark off St Petersburg, Fla. The first time I stood there in chest deep water wondering, "What was that?" A few moments later, I was knocked off my feet...I decided sun bathing seemed like a good activity after ever survival alarm in my body went haywire. Fight or flight at it's best.

I have been snake bit, more than once. Both by pets and um, not. I have also been bit by a hamster and a parakeet and strangely enough, the last two hurt worse. Okay, the snakes, fortunately, were not big.

I have had dogs respond to me that I have been told can not be handled...and have never been seriously bitten. I have been nipped a few times, by my own. That led to a serious lesson on who the alpha was in the household. It never happened more than once.

Now in all fairness, I will admit that I have had an animal lay me up for a few days. A cat...as in domestic variety. Yeah, I'm allergic. Hives, eyes swollen, gasping for breath. But do I avoid them? Not really. I love animals and apparently, I'm a glutton for punishment. And cats absolutely positively adore me. The more aloof I try to be, the more fascinated they are.

It seems I have lots of animal stories. I have been chased by a bull. I have tried to ride a cow...that does not work by the way. Momma pigs are not thrilled with the idea of you picking up the babies...despite what my cousins said. Actually, all three of those were thanks to my cousins in the country. I have been on the wrong end of a battle with a field full of mares, they really do not like when you take the stallion home...cousin in Tenn. I'm beginning to see a theme here. I have sat in the woods surrounded by deer. Opossums really do play dead. And they have a mouth full of nasty looking teeth when they're not playing any more. My dog brought it to the back door. I had a raccoon steal the fruit from my drink...on the patio of a club in downtown Louisville. I have been up close and personal with a few too many alligators. Those bastards are prevalent in parts of Florida and they really are not afraid of humans. I actually saw one enter a house through the garage door that a neighbor had left open. Speaking of Florida...there is a species of bird down there, a type of crane, I think, that stands about as tall as me and can be rather aggressive. They recognize McDonald's bag and they want your fries! I have watched a Florida panther walk across my parent's front yard, from the street. He was elegant and beautiful, and happily not interested in me. I was almost pulled overboard while deep sea fishing. I caught something the crew wouldn't bring on board, they just cut the line...we'd already brought an eel and a 49 inch barracuda on board. There are fish down there, that are poisonous just to touch. And we swim with them.

I am sure there are more. I love animals. I once wanted to be a vet...but doesn't every little girl? When I started nursing school, my Dad asked what happened to being a vet. I answered I didn't think I could deal with the animal's suffering. My dad gave me a look...people are different.

A 2008 post of Life stories.

Old times

I ran into an old friend today. I hadn't seen him in forever. As soon as I said his name, he opened his arms to me.  He looked at my husband and said something along the lines of, "I'm going to steal a hug man, I knew her even before you did." He's right. We guess we met about the age of 13. I remember the where and how, just not the specific year. We were young. My Dad recognized him, in a weird sort of way...in the same way I have recognized my former classmates in their children. Our fathers had been school friends. The reunion led to many weekends spent together. We became a bit of extended family for a time. Then life got in the way as it often does. We stood around and caught up. Sad to hear how many people have been lost.

In memory of Roxy, Eddie and Tommy. I have found memories of our days at the lake. You've not been forgotten.

Doors close

I still think about you, but not as often as I once did. There are certain things that always bring you to mind, I can't help it. I don't regret our time together. I have memories I still visit. There are things I would have changed. Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. Maybe things would have been better...or worse. One never knows these things. Life changes. People come and go. Timing is everything. I like to think we both ended up better off.  No regrets. Instead I listen for the sound of the opening window.

Cancun

Just got home. A week in Cancun. We stayed here...













It was beautiful and warm. The world seems to consist of blue, white and green.

The only complaints were not really hotel or trip related...some people just don't know how to behave. I've decided against writing a normal blog entry, more just snap shots and moments that stuck in my mind.








This is Jamie (Yahmeh), he's a bartender...and tried to kill us. If the goal had been not to remember the vacation, he would have been a perfect companion.

They work 6 day weeks and I think some of them worked 12 hour days. The all inclusive resorts say you don't need to tip, but they are so very grateful for every single dollar.

Jamie was making $10-20 a day from us in tips. The other bartenders wanted to be our amigos too when they saw his tip jar.

He introduced us to Don Julio.




Tony Bennett may have left his heart in San Francisco...I left part of myself in Puerto Morales. We snorkeled the reef there. High waves, I got smacked into the reef, scraping my thigh. I'll not post that pic. At some point it occurs to you that you are swimming in open water while potentially bleeding.

After I got home I saw a reported shark attack off Cancun a couple of weeks prior to us being there. Comforting.

We spent some time at the beach...

This is me on the beach...self portrait.

This is "Fernando" on the beach.

and some time at the pool.

There was lots of laughing.

non-pollo









Ok...you really had to be there.

                                                        It was hard to say good-bye.

Lasting memories.












                                                                                           Happy familia.