Hospital

I admire nurses.  I have spent time with a relative, sitting by her bed, and watched how much they work with patients in a day's time.  I could not do their jobs.  First of all, I have very little stomach for blood.  Second, I have little patience for waiting on people and I'm sure sometimes patients push those buzzards when they don't really need to.  Last, I am always thinking the worst rather than the best.  I have to think of all who walked out healthy rather than those who didn't.  I admire their work and thank them for what they do.

storms

I like storms.  Not dangerous ones but just the occasional thunderstorm that brings a few flashes of lightning but does not knock down trees or split telephone poles.  Because my mother was deathly afraid of storms, one might think I would be too.  Not the case.  The times she made us children sit on the feather bed or the times we had to make sure our feet weren't on the floor only caused me to wonder about her obsessive fear.  When she was widowed at a much younger age than I am, she headed to my house if she thought "a cloud was coming up".  I guess I didn't want to be like that and told myself the value of a storm outweighed the problems it caused.  I have sense enough to respect bad weather, but a good storm is actually quite beautiful.

Paint and food

There is no way I can paint without painting myself.  You see these pert little women on HGTV painting in their designer jeans and silver jewelry and I'm thinking, "No way".  Who are they kidding.  I have never painted anything without the signs of the product being on my arms or in my hair.  Sort of like eating.  I always wear home what I had for supper.  The price you pay when you're too big at the top to keep your top off the table.  

Senior Citizens

When is the last time a senior citizen got in your way?  At the grocery store when she forgot a loaf of bread and sent the bag boy to the other side of the store to get it, holding up the line?  When she chatted too long with a clerk, telling about her aches and pains or grandchildren while you waited behind her.  When you sat down in an office, waiting for an appointment, and an elderly man began telling you how old he was so you would say, "My, you don't look your age!"  Could it have been when you were in a hurry to get to work and a senior driver was poking along in front of you.  In America, we are impatient with senior citizens, aren't we.  I was very impatient..until I became one!

Intrusive Thoughts

Have you ever been busy, enjoying yourself at whatever you were doing, and without warning intrusive thoughts sneak in your mind that make you feel sad?  The thoughts may be of nothing in particular, but a shadow falls over you like a blanket of sorrow.  Can't explain what just happened or why it happened, but it did.You can be with a room of people or alone.  At the beach or sitting in front of the TV.  In a car headed for vacation or at work.   The mind of a women is a curious thing.  I don't think most men have these moments like we do.  We brush them off, but we are never sure when they will return.  No wonder half the world is medicated and the other half need it.  We're all a little depressed, aren't we.  I think I'll get busy now.

Ice Cream

My name is Carol and I am an addict.  I am an ice cream addict, that it.  Addicted to vanilla, but will eat any flavor.  My best source is Dairy Queen but it is no longer serving..closed...gone. My next source is McDonald's.  The problem is it takes three cones to make one good one.  I might order two and pretend it is for someone else.  I hide and eat.  Been known to buy a cone and drive out to Bowling Park and watch the ducks as I eat.  From whom am I hiding?  I don't want to be licking on my cream while driving and take a chance of being seen by some skinny woman who points to me and tells her children to look at the fat lady eating the ice cream.  There, I'll told the truth.  Wish I had a cone right now.

A Stranger in My Own Hometown

I don't know, sometimes, if I am a stranger in my own town or if my town is full of strangers.  Who are these people in the grocery store, walking the aisles and smiling at me with that smile given to strangers?  I don't know the people I meet going in and out of the post office.  I don't know the people working at McDonald's or the new Dollar Store.  (Well, some I know by face and a few by names, but the most are strangers.)  Did they move here while I was buried in a classroom and didn't know there was another world?  Even at church, I'm having to learn more names than the names who were once there.  "Now, who is that," I might whisper to Guy as if he might know.  He looks at me like, "You think I know."  I could honestly have moved to a new town and be no worse off because all of a sudden I am a stranger in my own hometown.

Walking

If I could hire someone to walk for me and exercise, I would.  I hate both unless I'm walking the streets of a city or digging holes for flowers.  When your doctor says,"I'm more worried about your health than you are," it may be time to worry.  With Spring in the air, I need to change my attitude about the security of having no health problems and pretend I do.  If I pretend I do, then maybe I'll get out in the fresh air and walk.  That doesn't mean I want to, but I guess if my doctor cares enough about me to worry, I should too.

Eating

I do not like to watch people eat, do you?  How can you help it when a person dining with you tells you something between bites.  I catch myself, sometimes, doing the same thing.  Eating mannerisms are interesting.  Some people wipe their mouths after each bite.  Some put the napkin in their laps while others put it beside their plate.  Some each wings with their fingers while others try to use a fork.  While some eat like a thief is going to take away their plate, others lolligag over their meal until I am ready to say, "Eat up. We have things to do."  I think watching kids gulp their drinks and ravage their food at school has made me detest eating with a bunch of strangers in restaurants where we are put elbow to elbow. 

 Maybe I'm just strange.

Twitter Me

I am finished trying to keep up with the latest technology.  Over and done.  Finished.  I have always been a gadget person since the onset of computers.  I am surrounded by printers, cameras, two computers, and a host of other necessities.  I joined facebook and thought I was up-to-date.  Not so.  Now I am a left behind because I am not a twitterer.  Not only am I not one, I have no clue what to do or how to do it.  Do I even want to be.  I chose not to text because no one I know is in to texting very much.  Twittering is the new wave and I am drowning in the lack of advancement.  Someone tell me, do I need to twitter?  I can't imagine why, but if I need to, I will learn.

No School

The phone rang at 10 o'clock.  An automated voice said, "This is to inform you that there is no school in Metcalfe County tomorrow."  Whee!  That is wonderful news.  A snow days like this one is such a surprise because who would have thought it would close a day of school.  No school on Friday...a long weekend.  Can you hear me rejoicing, singing, jumping up and down?  Wait a minute.  I don't have to go to school anyway.  Why am I still in the system.  I'm retired. Oh, well, I'm still happy for the teachers and the students. Old habits are hard to break. 

Have a spree

When is the last time you went on a spree?  A shopping spree?  A mad spree?  A ranting spree?  I like to have one now and then, but the end results are not always good.  A shopping spree can end in overloaded credit cards and items of clothing that will hang in the closet with the tags for months.  The thrill in buying ended when the item went into the bag.  I don't have many mad sprees, but when I do I am pretty quiet about it.  Although I want to throw dishes, I know who would have to clean up the mess.  One time I slammed all the kitchen cabinet doors, but no one was at home but me.  What good did that do?  As for ranting, I do that best.  "What in the world did he/she mean.  That was the dumbest thing I've ever seen, etc. etc."  Ranting sprees are safer than shopping and mad sprees.  Safer, especially, if those who annoy you are not around to hear it.  We all need to have a spree once in awhile as long as we don't hurt anyone.  A good spree gets the blood flowing.

Not Finished

The best line I have heard recently when discussing someone who passed away at an old age is "maybe he wasn't finished."  My uncle was buried today at the age of 90.  I never thought of him as old.  He housed tobacco until five years ago.  Never spent a night in a hospital.  He walked straight was a stick and never complained of any ache or pain.  His voice of wisdom was sought by children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews.  He was one of nine and the second to pass away. To live together with brothers and sisters all these years is remarkable.  I once asked why he thought they are got along so well.  "We don't meddle in each other's business."  Meddle was he key word.  He was concerned about all of us, but did not meddle.  His funeral was a testimony to his life.  A long line of cars following this man to the end.  I am forever better because Russell Reece was my uncle and I will miss him.

Topixs

I have only viewed the local topixs once or twice, but that place scares me.  Any place where nameless people can leave harsh, cruel remarks is not a place I want to be.  One of the times I looked I saw where someone was asking if someone else was gay. That's hurtful and gossip spreading.  If he were, maybe he didn't want it all over the county.  If he weren't, he might as well be by the time anonymous readers finished with him.  I hate confrontations and lies about people.  Do you know it is harder to prove a lie false than the truth true?  I know people who look everyday, hoping their names won't be there.  Not all of Topixs does this; some of it is informational.  BUT....

Bachelor

The news, in general, has been bashing and rehashing the Bachelor.  Does it cross our minds that all this is staged?  All this was part of the hype for the show?  I do not, for one minute, think all three parties were not involved.  Makes for good TV.  Would Jason go on every network talk show if he was such a rat?  Surely not. If he had two girls on his mind (and hot tubs and everywhere else they were) then he was conflicted and only proposed because of TV.  Then TV took a twist and wow, we're all watching.  Frankly, I think the theme has run its coarse.  Will Melissa be the new bachelorette?  I'm not watching anymore.  Had it, had it, had it.

Talk

If we all talked less, then we might hear more.  I think that is a lesson the ladies on The View need to learn.  They talk "over" each other to the point that I leave the room in disgust. Women, I hate to say, are notorious for talking at the same time.  We all, I guess, are afraid we are going to forget what we were going to say so we jump right in.  Could that be because we have had to jump right in to be heard? Growing up did we have to talk louder than our brothers to get the attention? Blame everything on our youth.  It works. Hmm.  

As the day ends, Fluffy is posted beside me as I write.  He, the little dog that he is, feels the need to watch over me.  Today he has been bothered by a cat on the back porch, two cars passing the house, a pup howling in the distance, the washer getting one-sided in the spin cycle, and food he wants to eat from my hands.  He sleeps when I sleep and roams when I roam.  He expects Guy to feed him at six and for me to get up at seven.  I am a prisoner to my Maltese. 

Snow Tease

This snow tease is killing me.  I long for a knee-deep snow that will not stick to highways for the safety of those who work on the weekend.  I don't want to play in it or walk in it, I just want to look at it.  Many years have gone by without a "good" snow.  A traffic stopping snow.  I've almost forgotten what one of those was like.  Weather channels tease us about a snow, but the flakes usually move on to the east.  Just this one time I wish I would wake up in the morning to the silence of a "good" snow.

What Would You Do?

The cynical would call me foolish and too trusting.  Maybe so, but what you you have done.  I pulled up to a gas station with a friend of mine and she put the hose in the tank and jumped back in the car.  A young man came to our window from the car at the next pump.  He need to get home and didn't have any gas money.  He looked like a clean-cut boy who hated to ask.  Old car, no gas, no wallet, had taken baby to mother in Glasgow, needed to get to Danville.  (We were in Russell Springs.)  What did I do?  Gave him $6 to buy enough gas to get there. (The only other option was a $20 and I wasn't that nice.)  What would you have done?  

The Price of Silence

How can we Americans live with the idea that there are tent communities springing up across our land where people like us have no home, no jobs, and no money...lost it all to this economy.  What to do?  I don't know.  Here I am with a retirement check -although not a large one- that is guaranteed, a home that I am not in danger of losing, and a way to pay the bills.  I am lucky, but I should not be so blind to others.  Surely we that are somewhat safe and secure can find a way to help those who aren't (that doesn't require money).  No one I know has extra money; just extra time. Seeing those tent communites rattled me. Any ideas?