Like a Virgin

The boss, in full sigh mode, approaches my office door all atwitter about the cell phone bill for the cell phone he just bought is charging to the company, after having put it off of 3 years. The bill, account and everything about it is of course, wrong. Wrong as in, not as promised in the store. He is at my door because he must fax them the agreement the store salesperson made at the point of purchase. He is at my door because one of the two fax machines in office is outside my door. He is at my door because he knows just how much I enjoy his siiiiigggghhhs and his tales of woe in dealing with vendors, salepersons and billing / customer service personnel. He is at my door because it is Friday, the last day of the month and because...well, just because.

Him: So I have to fax them what they did. Does this go face up or face down?
***we've had this fax machine for 3 years, granted he doesn't fax often, still one look at the machine it is fairly obvious that in order to scan you must face copy down. He asks this every time he faxes. There IS a "how to fax" cheat sheet on a slide out tray.

Me: Face Down

Him: Oh man!!! There is a jam while it's trying to send. Oh man!

Me: --- I say nothing and I don't move for several seconds.

Him: Deb? Could you help me out?

Me: --- I clear the jam saying something about how it was loaded with too much paper.

Him: (after he sees how simple it is to clear the jam) Oh, I could have done that.

Me: --- I go back inside my office and continue with my work, but wait for the next sigh and next Oh Man, cause I know it's coming.

Him: ***sigh*** Oh man. (another jam)

Me: --- I clear the jam, stay until the machine spits out a transmission without jamming.
***it's not his receipt.

Him: Did it send? Oh, I guess I have to.... (something else is printing---I'm sitting by now, back at work)

Him: So...if it says, SEND SUCCESSFUL does that mean it was successful?

Me: Yes. (and yes, I say this without the sarcasm dripping like hot molasses).

It's Friday, did I mention that earlier? Of course I did.

Goody, Goody!!!

Mail Call

This plus This

results in late mail, wrong mail or no mail at all? Maybe not, the sight however, is disconcerting for me none-the-less. There is similar un-easiness when I see carriers gib gabbing on the phone or to the air, presumably to a device that I cannot see. When I saw the boom box in the bag of one of the local carriers in my workplace district I was not surprised when I turned to see the carrier that belonged to that box in the bag. This carrier was once our carrier. He and I had clashed on a few occasions.

Our current carrier is always courteous, professional, prompt and diligent while carrying out his duties. He doesn't carry a boombox in his bag, a phone in his hand nor have I witnessed him speaking to the air, presumably to a device that I cannot see.

Raindrops Kept Falling

Drops schnapps. It was more like sheets, buckets, cats and dogs like…(why cats and dogs by the way??? Never mind, ask and answer some other time). Where was I? Oh yes, buckets, sheets of rain and not just rain. There was wind, lots and very heavy. There was even thunder and lightening, but like the song said…"knock on wood" the damage was limited to 1 full day without power. Thankfully, that day consisted of a late weekday afternoon, overnight and into the next day. By the time I’d returned from work that next day the power had been restored.

I was lucky. Thousands more in my area were without power the entire weekend and well into Monday morning. Many more were flooded and some had damage to automobiles and other property due to fallen trees and flying debris.

D, not the most patient house mate, and I talked about what we might do during an extended outage with regard to frozen, chilled foods and entertainment. It was no surprise to me that we had very different ideas about entertainment options.

I wonder, in this electronic age, how do you amuse yourself, pass the time, cope when you don’t have the creature comfort of electricity for an extended period of time?

The Greatest

Meet Pete.
Pete is sweet.
Pete is neat.
Pete is a tre…oh, enough already!
Pete is, as is plain as the rain, a cat. More specifically, Pete is a domestic short-hair brown tabby, just a few months shy of 2 years old. Pete was for most of Tuesday evening making himself quite the nuisance at home on the dining room table.

Pete was returned to the ACL in July after having been adopted March. He arrived and as the story goes, D was instantly smitten. “Mom, you must meet Pete! He is the greatest cat!”

Stop the bus! A cat? Blow me down, a cat.

I go. I meet Pete and true to D’s word, he is one great cat. I was telling Neta that prior to this year I’ve met, been in the company of maybe three cats my entire life. I’ve met 3 (all GREAT) this year! Pete, I knew as soon as I met him, would be coming home with me and D.

He spent the first night (when not on the table) walking and talking. Checking me out, getting his bearings. As he and D were already pals she's been allowed to call him "monkey" and nuzzle him more closely. He and I are still on a more formal basis, but that won't last long. He will soon rule feel very comfortable here. Welcome Home, Pete.

It's This Day

The Only Daughters, Big D and Little D have a new addition. He's a little nervous and didn't rest very well the first night, but that will pass, we are sure.

That's all for now, except to say as well as I know my daughter she can still manage to surprise.

If Only

Abbie Cadabbie! Oh drat, that's not it! It's rolling around in this mish mosh matter that is masquerading as my brain today. Ah fudge, it doesn't matter. Even if I could come up with the words, I'm missing at least one other vital tool, a wand. Magic cannot be performed with a wand. I think you could probably skate by without the goofy headpiece, maybe even the cape, but a wand is very necessary.

What would I do with this magic if I had the tool and could find the words?

I would transport me and one TN cutie to this spot, pronto!
This, you know, is more her bailiwick than mine, as I am not at all a water baby. My baby, however is very much a lover of the water, wide open seas and beaches. Whenever we speak of places to go on a lark, possible places to live, California is nearly always first or second on her list. That being said, I'd go to the water with her right. this. minute. (I might even get in the water). If the magic worked the way I wished she'd be up and about only to be lounging with me by her side, holding hands, making all kinds of plans.

Ample Cranapple! Oh, pish, that's not it either, is it? Get well soon baby.

f-r-i-d-a-y

I’m feeling much like the middle cars, impaled and a bit squeezed on both ends. I might be exaggerating some, but still this has been an excruciatingly long week.

I’m going to spend some time thinking about supporting the cause. It won’t stop the Walgreen's from being built, a cause long over-due, but it will give me something to muse while I down some brews.

Coffee in the Bag

The coffee spilling all over my workstation, dribbling down into my bag staining my notebook / journal and the current loan from the library, gives some indication as to how the day was going to go. It got better, but not much.

Neta’s surgery was scheduled for one, I called her mom at two and there wasn’t any word, yet. Some short time later, she called back. Neta was in recovery and they were going to release her soon. About 30 minutes later Neta calls and the planets begin to re-align.

She’s staying with her parents, which puts a crimp into our dirty talking routine, but the most important thing is that she is able to rest and recuperate. That is, until mom yelling at dad, chiming clocks and the dueling tee vees drive her bat-shit.

In the meantime, perhaps I need to re-evaluate my coffee consumption.

Morning

The morning begins like many before, I’ll wake at 5:00 and by 6 I’m showered, fed with a beverage at hand, and at least partially dressed. At 6:00 the phone chimes, the tone IDs the caller as Neta. For weeks we have begun our mornings apart with a call. “Morning baby, how did you sleep? I had the weirdest dream.” And off we go. For the next 40 minutes, chattering away while we get ready for our separate work, together.

Both needing to get going, we wind down, begin our so longs. The calls usually come to an end with Neta saying she’ll e-mail when she gets to work. Not this morning. There won’t be any e-mails, no work and in fact very little, no conversation.

Neta has surgery for a torn tendon in her right knee today. I’ll be out of reach, out of touch, out of my mind for most of the day. Her mom has agreed to be my conduit, to pass me the news, to let me release. It may be just enough.

She will end the call today by telling my not to worry, that all will be well. She’ll remind me to call her mom, that mom is expecting me. I’ll get through the day by sheer force of will, anxiously awaiting word, feverishly craving the sound of her voice.

It may be several days before we are back to some semblance of our routine, with her telling me about a weird dream, chattering away while we get ready for our separate work, together. Until then I suspect I’ll be out of step, out of rhythm, out of my mind.

Wake me in the morning.

do you? would you?

I don't seem to be watcing that much tee vee these days. There was a time when the prospect of missing an entire evening of tee vee viewing would engulf me with anger. I would not be fit company. The most feral cat in my daughter's care would run and hide from a me without tee vee.


Now, however, it is a new day. Oh, I still don't go a day without some tee vee, but I know that I could and it would be just fine. The more relaxed attitude probably has more to do with the understanding that missed programs can be caught in replays, dvds and / or online than any kind of "cure."

Summertime fare being what it is, when I am watching, cooking, home improvement and gardening offerings garner most of the attention. I have, in the midst of the h & g shows, become wildly enthralled with Glenn Close in Damages.

The Logo channel is fairly new to my cable line-up and I've been giving that a few spins in the tee vee wheel. 'Tis this network that has been showing the Kinoki commercial often. Thus, the question that titles the post. Do tell.

Momma B Proud

“Teamwork is dream work” my girl D chants to her team of animal care techs. A softball, basketball, volleyball and soccer player throughout her school years D is well acquainted with the concept of team and what it takes to make a team successful.

After 5 weeks in her new job with the local animal shelter, D earned a promotion to shift supervisor. From day one she let her experience guide her and she made her thoughts known. She pointed out flaws in some systems and worked out reasonable and executable solutions.

In spite of her skittishness towards cats, she embraced the challenge of “cat intake” and though still not totally at ease, is much less afraid. Today she can be amused by a cat soiling the freshly cleaned cage and then proceeded to sit in the mess….”oh mom, she shat and sat!”

It goes without saying that she wants to bring home at least half of the mid-sized dogs that appear at the shelter. And while she won’t be eligible to adopt for several weeks, I would not be surprised to find a mid-sized canine at my front door, welcoming me home, sooner rather than later.

That’s my girl.

A Rare Dream Memory

Neta and I were in a lumber store. I can’t tell you why we were there beyond the obvious getting lumber. I don’t know why we were getting lumber. While I have assembled furniture, I’ve never built any. The only building I’ve witnessed at Neta’s is that of the fantastic omelets and…momentum.

We are in separate parts of the store. I am waiting in a line, I think to the saw. I’m not holding any wood so I’m not sure what’s going to get sawed once I get to the front. There are people milling about the store and soon I start to see people I know from my former church. Maureen, Kelly and Alice come as one and say hello. While we are talking my mother joins the group. The other ladies say their good-byes, leaving my mother and me alone.

We are talking for only a few minutes before I mention that my friend, Neta is in the store and ask mom if she would like to meet her. Mom blurts out a no, bids me a hasty farewell, stating she doesn’t want the van to leave without her, all while vanishing through the double-swinging doors.

I wake abruptly and permanently, starting this day two hours earlier than planned.

Odd Decades

Ten years ago my marriage was disintegrating. The destruction, due mostly (according to him) to my failure as a teacher; "you were supposed to teach me to be a man, father." In the midst of that miasma was my 37th birthday, barely a blip in the whole scheme of things.

I as a hard-working mother of two, 20 years ago. My five year old son was looking forward to starting kindergarten. My nearly two year old daughter was busy doing what toddlers do. We had been thrown out asked to leave our apartment because the man and the landlord got into a fight. Between working a full-time job, school orientations, chasing a toddler and looking for an apartment, the only thing I can tell you about my 27th birday was that it came and went.

My graduation from high school was 30 years ago. Much of the time immediately following was spent preparing for college and my eventual move to on-campus housing. My mother decided to rescind her permission, forcing me to cancel the move, my life as I had envisioned. I could write volumes about this decision and the subsequent affects, but I won't, today. Needless to say, my 17th birthday was met with very little fanfare.

Forty years ago my parents split. My father's erratic behavior and cruelty leading up to the split gave me cause to celebrate. Little did I understand the devastation this event would cause and how the precarious house of cards mother had formed would come tumbling down. In all likelihood there was some sort of cake for birthday number seven. Maybe.
Ten years from now when I think of my 47th birthday I'll recall having a pre-birthday cake and celebration with my lady love. I'll remember my mom taking me to lunch the Saturday before, asking me at the end, "so...what is on your agenda, for the rest of your life?" Saturday evening I met a blogger and others for dinner and had fantastic time. Hanging out with my son and having the honor of feeding him, again, graced a good part of Sunday afternoon. Sunday evening my daughter and I cheered as the Chicago Sky trounced the Houston Comets. D met Ma and Pa Berenstain, certainly a most memorable moment in her book.
Monday found me playing hooky from work to spend the day communing with nature and seals, lions, tigers, bears, birds, kids, moms, dads, nannies, tourists and...more. Neta called me early Monday morning and serenaded me. She called again late Monday night for final happy, happy wishes and to get a round-up of my day. This birthday season will be recorded as one of the happiest of the odd year birthdays due to the happiness surrounding me most days, these days.

Cheers!