Prevailing

I've been busy the past few days. Trying to clean up a mess. I feel as though my life has tried to spiral out of my control. And I am desperately trying to keep it within my grasping, clawing little fingers. Futilely. But, I continue to try. It's like trying to hold onto a greasy pole and climb upward at the same time.
I'm getting no where, but I'm getting there at a record speed. Zip pity split. You're watching this old Gal whiz on by. Unfortunately, I'm headed in the wrong direction at this particular time.
I do hope to correct this momentarily.
Keep the Faith. Oh, please, keep the Faith.
The latest debacle? I called the Bank, in the town where I was raised, as I hadn't received the bill for my safe deposit box. Uh, folks..where's the bill? I don't want to be charged with a late fee. I've got this thing about my credit, etc.
And, (drum roll, please), you closed out your box ma'am.
No, I did not.
Yes, you did.
And so it went until I was able to persuade them, with some rather pointed references and proof that they had a bit of a dilemma on their hands.
Now there's a mystery and a mad scramble.
First it was: you don't have to sign to close out the account. Now it's, ma'am YOU came in and closed the account/Box out 18 months ago. And after I proved and gave them the names of collaborating witnesses I wasn't even in the State..... We have - ta DUM - another UH OH.
SO who's signature is on the, now you DO have to have a signature on a piece of paper to close things out? And why did you not ask for ID?
I am at this moment awaiting the Bank Manager's phone call to explain all that has occurred.
And the monies I paid last year? "Lost key fee, Ma'am."
Well, buttercups, it never said that on the bill. All it had was charges for the Box. I did think it was unfair that they had raised the fee on the Boxes without notice. But, I'm a good little trooper and I paid.
So why did they wait to charge me at the time they normally send out the rental notices? Why wasn't there a disclosure about it being for a lost key? NO ANSWER.
This should prove interesting.
Only one person had the other key. She informed me years ago, that she had "misplaced it." So after we had a bit of an estrangement, I took her signature off the accessibility sheet. And all that matters not at this juncture. Not one whit, not one whit.
Whoever helped themselves to the contents to my Box, signed my name. Forged my name. That is a criminal act. A deliberate criminal act, committed by a person with deliberate intent.
And since I've been dealing with an attempt to use my credit fraudulently....Ya think there's a connection?
I will get to the bottom of this. I do not mean this with irony or dark humor. I mean this as an act of justice.
I do not take violation of my privacy well.
If I invite you into my space, you are the most, most welcome individual you can imagine. I love people.
But if you do me or mine wrong. I am so very sorry; you must spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulders.
I am so sorry. It's just how I am.
It will happen.
So for now, I am clawing and scratching and grasping. Yes, I may be slipping a bit as I try to maintain my position. But, I can guarantee you, this will not be a free fall. And I will not be without a partner.
Someone, at some point, is going to accompany me on this journey. And with the help of the courts, and a certain Lawyer, and my documenting ability, someone is going to be left ON THE BOTTOM when I rise back to the top.
OnceAgain

Friday Nights

We were out last night with the Herd again. At the usual Watering Hole. We have two we generally use. Much to the chagrin of the Original. But then again the Original has asked for it.
I, along with the rest, remain in awe of how an establishment can do what they do and still remain in business.
Often the restrooms are; well they ARE, and we ladies must go request some amenities such as a little TP. The temperatures will fluctuate wildly area to area. The service unless Bar Wench is on duty will suck, frankly. Half the TVs don't work or the screens are fuzzy, the volume is skewed, the remotes are missing and they are all analogs and so will soon be obsolete anywho. The food is OK, but just OK.
And it's the only Gig in town. There's the secret to its holding power. That's what pretty much keeps it in business. That and most who go there haven't had that much experience with living in other areas of the Country that have local bars/pubs that have a family feel, etc. So they haven't anything to compare it too. Plus, sports bars have only recently begun their encroachment into the Municipalities around this place.
As the commercials go, hopefully one is coming this way soon.
For now, our 2nd spot is a bit of a drive. Which means, one of us does not get to imbibe. Fair or not, we have to err on the side of safety; ours as well as others.
2nd spot has better food, TVs, temperatures - for the most part, and cleaner restrooms. Service can be tricky, but the Staff is fun.
It's the drive that gets to you. It's out in the middle of no where. So we can take back country roads or the Interstate with - and I can say this 'cause I was raised here - rednecks on heightened top heavy trucks bouncing about lane to lane; cell phone/blackberry addicts oblivious to the happenings of life around them; teenagers who don't know what a car is about yet racing their and our lives away; and truckers who are switching lanes at any whim with loads listing like sail boats in a stormed sea.
Everybody mad at me now? And you all know it's true.
And that just takes the fun out of going out for or returning from a relaxing afternoon/evening with the Herd. Although, if I'm the DD, I tend to take the back country roads. They are narrow, but calm. More my cup of tea after chatting and laughing and visiting. It's hard to get into the mood to zoom; zoom; zoom after you've spent hours whiling away the time giggling and sitting with elbows on a table.
On the drive there.....well, if you take the Interstate, you at least have a conversation starter. You can make fun of the drivers, or blow off some stream. Our Group doesn't do the cell/blackberry thing when driving. We've helped out at too many accidents.
Chisel a child out of a van that crunched from a Mom who was chatting and you'll be cured, I promise you.
But back to the subject.
We are hoping the Original will come up to code, come into this century. Especially as gas prices climb. I know the owner has been doing a few little things. Maybe he wants to keep our business. I know, he knows, that the - ouch - older demographic has the real money to spend.
We'll continue to assess the situation, as we gather and visit and laugh. But civilization is encroaching where we live. A new shopping center has opened just a few miles away. There is hope we might have some adventurous entrepreneur will decide he wants to grab some of the bucks in this area.
If so, he might just see us stampede in and spend away our money and our time. And who knows, it could be a regular Friday night stampede. You never know with the Herd.
OnceAgain

Ma Nature

There's a terrible problem with not having an updated master bathroom.
It's that da-- mirror directly across from the bathtub.
Oh, yeah. You know the one. The 4' x 8' monster that stretches across the counter in all it's glory under the too bright lights to reflect....YOU.
The only good news; I have a rockin' sense of humor. That and a skewed sense of ego. Oh, I know I'm not some movie star and I'll never be the one that men fall over as I waltz into the ballroom.
But, my dears, I still have the machachos to waltz into the ballroom. That or the lack of good sense.
Kathie Lee Gifford once said to an audience member a long time ago, "we had our day in the sun, didn't we, Dear?"
All too true.
But sittin' under the Oak tree ain't half bad. Sure beats getting sunburned and having to deal with teenage angst and going through all that crap that we had to go through scratching our way up the 20's and 30's.
The 40's .... I divorced; clawed my way through Nursing School raising 2 remarkable/beautiful teenage daughters on my own; established myself from nothing; got back on my feet; and remarried. Other than that, the 40's were a piece of cake.
The 50's have been pretty OK. But I've notice Ma Nature is starting to get amusing. Or should I say; she amusing herself with me. I can hear the chuckling almost daily.
The lines deepening, the joints starting to ache, the gravity calling to various body parts, that's not such a big deal. It's the inside changes that are annoying.
I'm taking pills now. And not, I assure you for birth control. No. No. NO! Various internal "items" are not up to par. So I'm having to compensate.
I resent this, quite frankly.
I have to remember which to take in the morning and which to take at night. The memory ain't cracked up to what it used to be either. And I have to go give blood every so often to measure and test levels.
I hate needles. And don't you dare even go there. I can stick a turnip and find a vein. I'm good at what I do. But that doesn't mean I want you to stick me. I know I'm a Nurse...just go with it.
So every morning, I take my pills and every night I take more. And I try and do it and keep my skewed sense of humor intact. I take them in front of my big mirror, under the big bright lights. I take them with my water in a wine glass. I toast myself in the mornings for having made it to another day. And at night, well I'll spare you the visual.
Here's to gravity and getting older. Sure beats the alternative. Skoal.
OnceAgain

Krazy?

If animals; pets; reflect their owners. I'm cooked. No really.
Charlie Cat is leaping up the walls again at imaginary ...whatevers. 3-4 feet, straight up. Then sliding down and trying again.
After a couple of tries to capture the whatevers, he'll mrouf!, and take off at full speed down the hall. Zzzziiiiipppp! To the bedroom, or through the great room and up the stairs. It matters not, he's gone.
My gray and white furry ghost, leaving only a trail of floating silvered strands wafting in the air.
They usually settle on the areas I've just cleaned.
It's that universal Endust law.
If the pups are in from their mandatory yard patrol, the younger ones will give a short lived chase. Then Charlie will wheel, turn while raised up like a grizzly and attack.
It's over quickly. No real blood shed. Some pride is always lost, mortally wounded to lie at the feet of the involved warriors, but no actual blood.
And in a few hours, it will begin again.
They're crazy. Absolutely crazy. All of 'em.
Charlie, we've discussed - Okay, you've read about him.
Peaches is a Chihauhau, black and white, (I didn't name her!). And she is cunning and always in trouble. She sneaks and steals and then whines and tells on herself. Honestly. Meets you at the door with tail tucked practically screaming, "I did it! I'm-sorry-and-I'll-never-do-it again-and-I-promise-to-be-better-give-me-another-chance-I-love-you-more-than-the-world-knows!" And always, always, does anything and everything she can get into again. She just does.
Hudson is a Daschy mix. He thinks he's macho, macho man. I've yet to break it to him he's neutered. He adores the Hubby. No one else exists in the whole world for him. He'll growl at anyone that gets too near Hubbykins. I drove 4 hours each way to rescue that little twerp and he goes over to the dark side. Not that I resent it, you understand.
Irish is a Golden/Irish Setter mix. Hubby likes to say she got the coat of the Goldens and the brains of the Setters. All I know is she's as sweet as she can be and dumb as a box of rocks. But, she's the best thing in the world with the grandest kids. And they love her, too. Okay, she's not crazy, just slow on the uptake.
Whiskers; oh, Whiskers. She came to me as the dog that only had months to live. She's a mutt. She arrived 13 years ago and she was 2 or 3 then. She's gonna out live us all. And she snores. But, she taught the others how to tolerate cats. She likes to bark....at anything. It matters not if you can hear the noise or only she can hear the noise. She will suddenly ...bark. A deep throated, sounds like a big male dog, bark. Until you yell, "Whiskers, STOP!" Lately she's decided she doesn't like her reflection. I'm thinking dementia is raising it's ugly head.
They have to be told to go outside. Sometimes; loudly. "You're DOGS, go out, it's beautiful, come on." And there they'll lay, "Huh? Us? Out THERE?"
Snooty little perps.
Charlie would go out in a heartbeat. Even in the rain, he'd scoot out the door and make a break for it. The little brat's declawed and the streets are filled with flying cars, but he'd risk it. Scale the fence and off into the world, he'd go. Have to watch my brazen, crazy boy. He's fast.
He's forgotten that he came staggering up to us starved, dirty and cold. He's fat and fed now and ready for new adventures. He's ready to take on anyone and everything. He's brave and unafraid.
Hmmm. Maybe if he's a reflection, I'm not so cooked after all.
OnceAgain

Et tu, Brute'?

One of the reasons I was able to open a blog and start this writing business, was I've become unemployed. I'm not working as a Nurse at this time.
New territory for this Chick. I've done something since my teenage years. Even when I was a housewife, there were the kids, and their friends and the assorted, extended, gamut of extras that came with that era of my life. I waited until they got into school and I became a Substitute Teacher. Always found something. Then back to school and Nursing. Until now.
I'm still a Nurse, just not working. Looking, not working.
The applications are out and the resumes are with them. I'm waiting. Somebody will want or need me, I'm just going to have to be patient.
And I'm going to have to use this episode as a learning experience. Learn that if something doesn't feel like a good fit, trust your gut, leave that Unit - fast.
Learn that if someone says something about you, why they are allowing you to "take flight," swallow your surprise and let it go. Don't blurt out the truth. It is really, in the scheme of things, no big deal. And blurting out the truth, in your surprise,and casting a bad light on the one in control? The one that decided, despite your not costing the Unit a sou, that she didn't want to expend her energy to teach the new machinery. The one that decided despite the protest of others, it was just easier to shove you from the nest. The one that told others it was your idea to leave when it was not. The surprise must not; must not register. For if it does? Even if caught off guard? Then you will speak in your confusion; pain. Not good. Not good.
It was enough that HR knew the truth. It was enough that HR backed you up. But, if you're PRN - per diem; no benefits; no rights. If the one in control wants to hang you out, not a thing they can do.
HR can't stop the tendrils of the grapevines that wind and twist their way through the halls of Institutions. The one in control will be angry. And she will feed the plant. Even those that know the truth, will back away. Controversy is fatal; it is a cancer with no cure.
And tendrils can choke off the life of a career, no matter how pristine and carefully nurtured.
When all the others got 3's and 3.5's. I got 4's, etc. "One of the Best." Bye-bye. Now, having exhausted all options there and with its affiliations, I'm resigned to casting my nets across other seas.
I feel like a traitor, but this vacation has gone on long enough.
I like what I do. I miss my folks, my patients. I miss taking care of them, talking to them, watching out for them and teaching them. I actually like answering their questions.
I'm weird that way.
And my friends? They are howling and squalling. But, they too are at a loss. No power. Can't fight the Establishment. This is a learning curve for all of us. There's no job security. And the e-mails are pouring in from others that were treated the same as I.
So; I am not alone. But that is not a comfort. It actually deepens the ache. In this business that is supposed to be of heart and soul, warmth and kindness, I have found it is a cruel and cold place with closed doors.
And yet I wish to continue, to break those doors open. I still have much to give. So I will continue to strive. My day is coming and I will prevail. I will return and care and teach and hold and nuture.
I am, after all, a Nurse.
OnceAgain

The "Herd"

We went to the old watering hole last night. Met with the Herd. Family, actually. Or maybe we're a conglomerate. Whatever we are, we're tight.
We may fuss and tussle amongst ourselves, but let anybody else get too near or threaten one of our members.... Well, let's just start lighting the candles for that poor soul right now. They're doomed.
Our meetings remind me of old time Thanksgiving Dinners. The "Boys" gravitate towards each other and the "Girls" stay to their area. The only difference; no cooking. Thank God, for B... Or as the Boys fondly call her, Beer Wench. And she will roll her eyes and give them THAT look. But she waits on Us and puts up with the nonsense and treats Us very well. Best of all, she laughs at the dumb Boy jokes as if she's heard them for the very 1st time. Saves the Girls a lot of trouble.
We tip very well. And B... earns it. Bless her, bless her.
Speaking of blessings; one of our Girls is under the weather and needs them. And we're worried about her. And worse, not a darn thing we can do to make her better. That's hard for me.
I'm a Nurse and I fix everything. OK, I try. I guess it's in my blood. And I stick my nose into every one's business and fix what ails them. It's a hobby?
It's a lot easier than focusing on my own problems. J.... pointed it out to me last week. Pointed it out, told me to stop, and told me to take care of myself for a change. Yes, ma'am.
Ah, the Herd taking care of its own. Circling and noting the weaker and making sure that the jackals can't attack.
Even the Boys note when one of Us gets down. Yes! Even the Boys! And they will fuss, too.
Granted they take a different tact amongst themselves. It's a more manly "thing." But there you are, dude to dude giving support with jokes and profane language and back slaps.
And they will lend a hand to a Girl, gentler, still joking, awkward, often stumbling, but there. They are strong in this, if slightly teenagish. One almost expects an outbreak of acne.
So we fuss and push and snort. Take care and worry about the one who's under the weather. Plot to make them as "better" as we can. We circle and protect and meet. We love and care despite the obvious glaring faults we all possess.
We're Family and I told you, We're tight.
OnceAgain

Ring-a-Ding Ding

I’m just wondering why Industries haven’t the least iota of ethics these days. After all, if they did, we’d note their advertisements would have something besides a hollow ring.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls.” It be a ringin’ for you, Lowe’s.
Yesterday, May 14, I meandered into Lowe’s.
“Let’s build something together,” Gene Hackman will overtone.
Uh huh.
So how come, not one, not one man, male, boy, etc, would make eye contact or answer my queries for assistance to locate the one item I wished to purchase?
And before the snide remarks or thought processes begin, I may be 54 years of age, but I look younger and I was dressed nicely and freshly bathed. I’m not some off putting, drooling monster. I have manners and use them.
All I wanted was a rope saw. One little, branch cutting, tree trimming, manual utile rope saw.
Not a large purchase. But as I tend to be a bit Tomboyish and have been known to drop large amounts of monies in the self-help, home improvement stores…..
So I trotted my happy little self to Home Depot and made my purchase there. Oh, by-the-by., they didn’t have the rope saw either. But, they had the roof sealant, specialty light bulbs, a trowel, limb loppers, and a few other things I’d been intending to purchase. I decided I might as well get them while I was out.
It did add up, but, things cost these days. And oh, my goodness, I had several people, ladies too, asking me if they could assist. Almost from the time I hit the open door, there were orange aproned folks available.
So very nice to have a welcoming atmosphere in a store. I needed some assistance with merchandise location. Sometimes I did not. But, it was nice to have the options.
So guess, just guess where I will be shopping and spending my money? Yep.
And now guess what I’ll be telling all my friends and e-mailing to all my “lists?” Yep.
Oh, ding-dong. That bell will be tolling in the distance, Lowe’s, as I wait for Home Depot to open their doors.
OnceAgain