We Were Just Filling Up.....

Hello all.
Haven't posted in 5 forevers. I've been staying horribly busy as usual. But we did get out this weekend.
I hope all are well and relatively happy. And busy being out and about as the weather has warmed.
We went out over the Memorial Day Holiday and spent a 4 day weekend relatively close to home at a little place called Swancreek on HWY 31 between Decatur and Athens, AL. Camping and relaxing.
We just wanted to get out and away from the old homestead.
It was nice and quiet and peaceful and calm and easy going. And we spent it
with a few friends that camped with us. We had our rigs beside each other and meandered around just doin' mostly nothing.
Awesome.
It was the 1st time we'd taken Terry out proper since the unfortunate incident with the Fifth Wheel.
It's funny now. But I was upset then.
You just shouldn't figure if the truck will fit thru an area that the fiver
will. Aaaannnndddd you really should slow down as you pass gas pumps.
The only reason I caught them was the turn she had to make.
Yes, dudes, the wife was at the wheel.
We will pause for a moment as proper due is given for older than dirt jokes
about female drivers.
Time's up.
We were coming back home from visiting the grandest kids in South Alabama.
Just below Birmingham and stopped to get gas. Terry likes gas. OK. Terry luvs gas. And it takes a bit to fill that tank. It was a really nice April Sunday.
1 minute I'm stretched out on the dash looking at the sky (no clouds/beautiful) and the next I'm on my butt against that moundie thingie
between the Captain's chairs - which leaves a bruise - goin' what the hell?
Then I'm bounding; literally; out the door over the steps which got zinged and across the pavement after this truck and rig.
If she hadn't hit the brakes for a sec 'cause she nailed that curb; I'm not
sure I'd have caught them.
But granny got 'em. I was on that running board hanging in the window letting them know they hit us.
Mr. Michigan (names have been changed) goes; "no we didn't." and I go;
"dude, you knocked me off the dash!"
Then we turn and look at Terry and the mirror is dangling by these wires and stuff.
And he says something I'm thinking. I mean besides what my butt looks like
hanging outa a truck window.
And then it got kinda ugly, 'cause Skip (husband - name not changed) said,
"What do you mean you didn't hit us %$#(*&^. You callin' my wife a liar?"
And Michigan goes, "Look you %$#@*&. You don't have to get ugly!"
And they're facing off like 2 bulls snorting and scraping hoofs.
That's when I got really fried. So I put my hands up and yelled, "Everybody
shut up and back off! Not another word from you 2. Not 1 more word! I don't
want any trouble outa anyone! Got it?!"
It turned out to be pretty cool. The wife ran back to the truck and all the
folks from the gas station that had gathered just dispersed. Poof.
It makes you feel really powerful and stuff. Doesn't last long, but it's cool for a minute.
AND then you remember that your rig is hurt and you get warm all over again.
So I made them get their camera and Skip get our camera and all the proof of insurance and stuff. The cops were called and the wife (I nicknamed her Minnie Mouse) ratted me out. She told the Officer that I yelled at everyone. And I told him it was true and why. And he laughed and they got mad.
Then he ask them why they didn't go on the other side which was clear 'cause I made him look at everyone's photo's 'cause I wanted to make sure we'd documented everything correctly and they got mad again.
And they kept offering us "some cash." And I was nope the insurance companies will handle it. I haven't the foggiest what that mirror will run. And Michigan wants me to put a couple of screws in it and let it go.
That was about the time I pushed Skip to the back to finish gassing up Terry.
It's always best to err on the side of safety and I knew I'd have to be the
voice of reason.
Which if you knew me would send you into spasms.
To end this tawdry tale. Those stinkin' mirrors cost more than the $200.00 he offered. LOTS more. 2nd they sheared the darn thing off the support post so it took more to replace it than thought. I have to say it was a really smooth snap, though. Professional, even.
The steps got straightened and work much better. The seams only had a few
issues. Apparently it's not good for Class A's to be tipped up on their sides.
Bankston did some nice work on the finish where there were - smudges?
The rigs exchanged "blood."
Oh, the duct tape held thru Birmingham and the bunga, bunga, bunga we call
I-65, so the mirror didn't flop against the side of Terry and inflict further harm.
Michigan and MM never informed their insurance company. They found out from
our insurance company. But they got everything settled. And I'm known in
Calera as a truck chaser. Which is better than an ambulance chaser I 'spose.
So be careful in gas stations. You never know what's gonna happen when you're looking out the windshield at the sky.
It could get 'citin'.
OnceAgain

Abby?

I love reading Dear Abby. And her ilk. All those folks asking for advice on what to do with Aunt "won't- listen - to - me" or "bum - son - living - off - of - us."
The answer is always ssssoooo obvious. And they ask anyway.
What do I do? Alas, woe is me!
Get over it people! Really! Ignore the old bat back and kick "Bum" out on his ass.
But they ask anyway. I 'spect because they want to either hear what they already know; want validation for what they are about to do; or think maybe, just maybe, someone will tell them it's OK to continue to be doormats.
So sad.
Of course when it involves children it's rougher. But true love doesn't allow for assisting in a child's spiraling self destruction.
You have to be the adult. You have to be THE PARENT.
When it involves your parent; sometimes it gets iffy.
Personally; I'm keeping 1 & dumping the other.
Got that, Mumsie?
And yes, I got therapy for my "issues."
Just a few sessions. Because I was given a question to carry with me. If you are in pain; or someone is causing you pain; does it make sense to stay in pain?
And since that time; my life has been much better. Not perfect. No. But much better.
And when a painful situation arose; my ability to turn it around worked pretty good. For me.
And the made - me - hurt - person isn't likely to cross me again. I REALLY know how to stand up for myself now.
To be fair; 'tis always much easier to sweep someone else's back porch clean. But I can't believe some of the situations these people write in about. It's like they're into S&M. Beat me; abuse me; use me.
Good grief. Just go to the back alleys of the worst place of any big city & wave around a wad of cash. Then double dare someone; anyone to take it from you. And resist.
I mean if you really want to get the crap beat outa you....Do it right.
So for the lady complaining that her mother-in-law would ask her advice on arranging things & then ignore her? If it had been me? After the obvious 2nd time; I'd have flashed her my sweetest smile & assured her she no longer had to be polite. It wasn't going to hurt my feelings for her to do things her way. Just enjoy her new space.
And by the way; her reaction would let me know if she'd been game playing or not.
Bum son. 2 months to get a job & contribute to the household. Or OUT. Girlfriend? 1 month. Drugs? Uh, NO! If you've got money for them, you've got money for rent. Buh bye.
If they're over 25; get real folks. They're grown ups. Keep enabling them. What are they gonna do when you're 90?
In the meantime, I'll keep reading & shaking my head. I'll keep pursing my lips in amusement. AND I'll thank God for our kids & the fact we toughed them out.
Yeah, I practice what I gripe about.
They came out pretty good - so far.
Maybe that's why lots of my students come to me & so do my friends.
And maybe that's why you'll occasionally hear me grouse; I'm gonna change my name to Dear Abby.
And just for the record; for the 2 that ask & then argued &/or didn't listen? When they ask again; I declined to assist. When they expressed bewilderment; I gently reminded them of the aforementioned.
There's no reason for either of us to waste valuable time or effort on anything that will come to naught. So let's just move along,'K? It stung them I'm sure, but word got around & now I only get the serious contenders.
Thank you. There are plenty of them.
I'm flattered. And so it goes. My career is secure and so is my "hobby" ... apparently.
Abby or not; here they keep coming.
OnceAgain
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Lucky

Yes, that's the title I'm going with as I write this post.
You see; this time last Sunday; Kelly, my eldest, was sitting at the bedside of her son in the ICU as he was suffering from a serious head wound.
The metal arm of his pitching machine had come down on him and effectively "scalped" the right side of his head above and to the back of his right ear. The area was approximately the size of a large man's hand.
Did I mention it got a small artery also?
Yup; got a spurter, too.
When all was said and done. Kel got a chance to tell me how it went down and I have to tell you; I'm proud how she and Matt held it together and got Zack to the ER. How they got him to hold it together and all got through it.
It was an ugly ride. And he landed himself in the ICU for 3 days and a couple of nights. Then on to the floor to be watched for a little bit longer. More IV fluids, too. Kid lost a little over a pint of blood.
Head wounds will do that.
They bleed like a son-of-a-gun.
He's still on antibiotics and having nagging little headaches from being smacked a good one.
Doc said he was one lucky kid. If the blasted arm on the machine had come down on the base of his head. Not gonna write it.
Now do you see why I chose the title?
I went down this past weekend to visit and just see and just...
Sometimes you just have to be around them after something goes down to reassure yourself that all are OK.
It's a thing.
The kids know to deal with it.
Checked in with Karen, too.
I was good.
Yeah, new thing I'm trying. Being good.
You see, I know how lucky I am.
OnceAgain

Shootings/Entitlement

Three people died yesterday. Three more were injured; 2 critically. Scores have been damaged mentally and emotionally. And why?
Because some individual did not get what they wanted; didn't get what they wanted!
And that excused; in their mind; at least for those few horrible minutes; the reason to unload a gun on innocents in their OWN departmental meeting.
That was a premeditated; vengeful; selfish; and an egocentric act.
And I believe traceable to our Societies "entitlement" mentality.
We've been raised and are raising individuals that believe they can not be anything but winners.
Then when something doesn't go as they believe it should or they are confronted with "failure"....
Well surely, it must be the fault of others and they must pay.
So there are rants on Facebook and/or My Space; public tantrums by adults turned 2 year olds; nervous breakdowns leading to family dissolution; or the IDIOTS decide to injure innocent individuals sometimes before committing suicide.
I am going to be cruel and mean and coldly heartless here. If you are so dead set - no pun intended - on being terminally dramatic. Do society at large a generous favor; MAKE THE FIRST BULLET YOUR OWN!
News flash people! No one; no one owes you a thing! Get off that idea!
There are gonna be good times and bad. Up times and down. Sometimes you will get what you think you deserve; sometimes more. And here's a little news for ya; sometimes you aren't gonna get squat.
Yep. That's the way life slaps you in the chops. You'll work your proverbial butt off and not one thing will come of it. Except; if you've got a smidgen of character; the satisfaction of knowing you've done your best.
This bit about always being a winner and always getting some kinda reward is a load of crap. It isn't reality. You can't walk away from every game you play in life a winner.
Sometimes you come in second or third. Sometimes you flat out lose.
If you are a person of character and have true pride of self; you grow and learn. You take the information gained; pro and con; from the experience and move forward. And with any luck, you come out better for the time.
Perhaps, and this is just a suggestion; it's time to teach individuals how to fail or accept criticism. How to deal with disappointment without lashing out in harmful let alone fatal ways.
We need to teach people to accept individual responsibility. It's time to stop assigning blame to others. As the saying goes, put on your big girl panties and deal with it.
And that includes the punishment for the perpetrator. She needs to be locked away forever. She needs to listen to a tape of the screams and havoc replayed once a day. And she needs to listen to tapes of the victims' Families speaking to her as they express whatever they need to express at least once a week for the duration of her life span.
Cruel? No. We're not giving her the death penalty. We're just giving her lectures and education. And if we do it for all murderers; it's not unusual. And the Families can change out the recordings periodically to give her variety. It will be therapeutic for them and it will keep the prisoner from becoming "bored to death."
And those are my thoughts on this day after the slaughter of good people by an essentially spoiled brat. Shot by an adult who did more than grab her basket ball and stomp off home because the game didn't go her way.
If prison can be used as an ultimate time out; then so be it. Maybe while she's there she can learn the error of her ways. Too late for her; but learn none the less. Time out is where she should go. After all, she chose to place three there eternally.
OnceAgain

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Warm?

It snowed again this morning. Yes here in good old Alabama. Now granted this is the northern aspect of Bama land, but still. It doesn't snow here. It...just...doesn't.
But it has. This winter anyway. A lot. And it will again. This weekend actually.
Thank God for global warming. If it weren't for that, we'd be really cold or something.
Oh, wait...we ARE.
It's been freezing here. And elsewhere from what I gather.
This has been an awfully cold, miserable Winter.
I've given up showers. I'm into hot, hot baths. The only time this cold natured old broad is warm lately.
And I don't want to go out. I'd rather stay in once I get home from work and just gel.
Where it's reasonably warm. Snuggie, here I come.
That's one of the drawbacks of really cold weather. The hell with the sexy nightgowns and such. I go for sweats and flannel. If the Skipster wants me; it's a challenge.
Although; that's not all bad. At our age, every little bit helps. So a challenge ain't too bad.
I know......TMI.
Deal with it.
Even ancient, dusty old folks are still active.
As a matter of fact; from where I stand this Winter; the Old Man and I are the only global warming around. If we didn't have each other; we'd be freezing here in the sunny south.
Once Again

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Teacher vs Instructor

I had a chat with one of my fellow "Instructors" the other the day.
OK, she was scolding me. Again.
Apparently I let myself get bogged down with the incidentals. Those being; I add too much extra to my teaching. I embellish. I give the kids the extra info that she deems unnecessary to classroom instruction.
Okey dokey.
I respect her opinion. She is after all, a bit more of the expert in the classroom. She has taught longer than I.
But with all due respect, when she looked me in the eye and dropped this on me - "all we need to teach them is to give a proper shot" - I kinda drew back and did a little rethinking.
Excuse me?
Aren't educators supposed to ED-U-CATE? As in teach? I mean not just skim the surface and make it look all glossy and shiny, but like a true wood worker, give the piece a deep burnish and many coats that protect the surface bring out the patina of the wood; the beauty.
And just for the record? I do teach my chicks to "give a proper shot." That's even one of my extras. I've made them a booklet that has illustrations of how to locate and map the proper injection sites on the body.
I've also set up charts on "patients" that have allergies, illnesses, and problems such as they will encounter in real-life situations. These charts are what they will use in their clinical trials for grading. And those are the "patients" that will get the shots. The kids will have to now make sure there are no allergies involved or if permits have been signed or if dosages are correct.
Oh; my. They will have to study the meds and the rules.
They were using charts with their own histories, healthy young people with nothing wrong with them.
Yeah, that made sense. Treat the healthy medically. And I decided they get a practice run thru and then they will have to work it in an exam room setting. They won't know which patient or what Dr.'s order they're gonna have to deal with until they grab a chart.
Just like real life.
And this has bent my coworker outa shape. She thinks once again; I'm putting too much into my work.
Not me.
These kids are gonna be taking care of me, my friends, possibly my family members. I WANT them to KNOW what they are doing and why.
My husband; St. Skip; thinks she's bent because the boss likes it. And because the kids are having fun.
Hell; I'm having fun.
We injected tangerines for practice on Thursday and had a blast. I incorporated their math into the lesson.
When the janitor stuck his head into the room for the trash and saw the tangerines, he raised his eyebrows. He wanted to know what the ....? I loftily informed him those were former patients.
The kids loved it.
You know you're onto something when they help you clean up.
I sat there reveling in a good, good session.
So what? In came Debbie Downer. And then followed the conversation. Or lecture.
Technically I need her lead. She was the one that set up the formula for the Clinical aspect of our Program. She has been guiding me thru the process. Little by little. It's as if she enjoys sharing her knowledge and glories in it. OK. OK. She irks me a little. And I know she probably means well. At least I hope she does. But damn it; I see nothing wrong with giving the kids a heads up for real life. And I see nothing wrong with bringing new ideas into a program. Especially if they enhance learning.
If I volunteer my time; do the work on my own; pay for the materials; and donate the goods which can be used over and over again; what's the big deal?
I've upset the apple cart and a fellow Instructor.
I've been bad. Apparently.
So I'm afraid she and I are going to have to agree to disagree. Respectfully of course.
She will continue to instruct.
I will continue to teach.
OnceAgain

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Ouch

Well this has just sucked. And I mean that quite sincerely. I'm not a happy camper here, folks.
I was cleaning my house; minding my own business and the next thing ya know; OUCH.
I either pulled something, decided to play with a kidney stone; or pinched a nerve. Whatever I did I regret it, apologize for it and I'll mea culpa all day long. If it'll make it go away.
This all went down about one or so, Friday by the way. It's Monday now and still twinging. Better; but twinging. And I'm flipping tired of it.
Not that that's gonna make it better.
But ranting and raving gets a lot off my chest. Which is not helping the twinge. Or whatever it may be.
So here's the deal; when you decide to move walls and rearrange furniture; get on your hands and knees to brush off the rugs; and scrub baseboards, etc.; watch out; it could hurt.
It started off with a pain in the left side that got steadily worse. Finally walking on the tiptoes of the left foot. Had to tilt myself up on one side. Didn't go out Friday night.
Yup, stayed in and sat; leaning over to the right. Wasn't the happiest of campers. Even took some meds. And all the freakin' pills did were make me lightheaded.
So there I sat; unhappy and too zopped to do anything about it and still hurtin' like a sumbitch.
Saturday, no change. And now I'm a whimpering puppy. But quietly. And just working on paperwork for the kids at school. Gotta keep on keepin' on.
Then out to dinner to celebrate friend's birthday, Saturday night. I refused to missed THAT. Finally got SOME respite; Rum. Had a few drinks and everything eased off. Didn't last but for a few hours, but hey, take what you can get; right?
So there you are. I now have the cure for hip pain. Liquor.
Of course, you can't live off that and work. Or I can't. Or I won't.
Sunday, better. Yippee. But then I made the mistake of getting out of bed. But by now, I had a secret weapon. On the way to the birthday party, we bought me a little heating pad. And I spent the day on it. hahahahaha.
Now I've got ammo to fight back. Watch me now. Heat; gentle as a carass; all day long.
And so we have today.
I feel a bit more human. Not a twisted piece of ouchy stuff.
And now I know what it's like to be one of my patient's that lives with a chronic pain.
Mine isn't chronic, but I've gotten a dose of 3 days of good; can't escape; always there and doesn't respond to anything pain/ache/hurt.
It hasn't gone away, but it's better. And by golly, I'll take it. At least I'm walking like normal. Still not smiling about the situation, but haven't quit with life.
Skip's all about just laying around and doing nothing. I'm all about getting things done so I don't get further behind.
I have 4 classes this quarter. Smallest population is 19 students. So...
But I ouch a bit if I get too rambunctious.
Oh, well, life goes on and here I sit. Straight up at least.
So until the next post; I'll just sulk about this left hip/flank twinge deal. It'll get better or I'll give in and see Doc Amy and get her to wave her magic wand or something.
No needles.
In the meantime.
Ouch. And your move. I'm staying put.
OnceAgain

Jim's Obituary

A good man passed from this world last month. He went to join his parents and forbearers of whom he was so proud. Those of whose legacy, he strove to be worthy.
The date of his death doesn't matter, nor of his birth at this juncture.  What does matter was his life.  The life he lived and those he left behind in this world he loved so dearly.
Jim left 2 sons.  They were his sun, moon, and stars.  He was a man not afraid to tell these 2 young men he loved them.  And it was readily evident that he did.  He shone with pride when ever they were mentioned or he spoke their names.  They were the 2 people most dear in his heart.
He left Family; the ones he spoke of often were his Sisters.  Though like many modern families, they were scattered across the world.  When they all came together during his last weeks; I have it from a most reliable source he stated, "This is NICE."
For old grumpy pants to say that; well; it meant tons.  Tons.
He had a career in the Military. The Army to be specific.  He serve honorably and well.  He accomplished every task given and every mission assigned.  He was a pilot and soldier.  He was a Veteran and Patriot.  If you cut the man, he bled red, white and blue.  Literally, I believe.  He retired and went on to continue to serve in yet another capacity.
Jim worked as a Contractor continuing to serve the "Kids" as he called those still in Uniform.  And he was a quiet warrior for them.  He knew the nuances of Government workings.  His was not the manner of bluster or force.  It was finesse and tactic and campaign.  Whether he wore them down or out, I do not know; but he protected the Kids and worked for them to the best of his abilities.  "We have to look out for them," he once said to me.
He was a giver.  Quietly without fanfare or publicity, he gave to Charities and to those in need.  He especially supported Foundations set up to assist the homeless Veterans.  He gave without expecting anything in return; not even a thank you.  This was the measure of the man.
There were those who took advantage of his generosity.  But, it mattered not to him.  He wanted to help; to assist; to aid.  Did he make mistakes?  Oh, yeah.  Did he give when he shouldn't in those cases.  Definitely.  Was he taken advantage of?  Yep.  But he shook it off and went on.  Lesson learned and muster forward.  Don't dwell on it.  Another day, another Heineken.
That was our Jim.
Stubborn old coot.
Speaking of which.
He was obstinate, hard headed, set in his ways, fastidious to a fault, and could be downright prissy.  Yeah, you heard me right, people.  Prissy.  I told him once he probably starched his boxers.  He got a twinkle in his eyes and leaned forward and said, "Nah, I just iron them."  And I started laughing. It was he who gave Janis and I the names, "Thelma and Louise." He could tease and pick like a second grader. But, he could take it, too.  So, I suppose that part was okay.  That part.
He didn't play fair sometimes.  If I got in a snit with him, he made me laugh and I got "unsnitted."  That's cheating.  He cheated a lot that way with his friends. He made you laugh, really laugh.  He liked to regale his friends with jokes and stories.
He had a lot of friends.  You liked him.  He could drive you crazy with his story renditions and the way he wandered from the subject, but you just liked the guy.  And it was there he was most, most blessed.
You see, as the life of this man wound down, 2 of those friends "angeled" to him.  They had that special bond with him that sometimes the luckiest of us get.  The luckiest.
His angels were Janis and Matt.  One a saucy lady of dubious redhair and one a man in battle fatigues.  It was they who spent those last hours together with this gentle man.  It was they who gently led him from this world to the next.  It was they who performed that most selfless act of love in letting go; in telling the one who struggles to disconnect from life, "you've done well; it's okay now."
And so he let go.
And now here I am with this group of words that try in vain to give you a gist of the worth and feeling of this man. And I am not sure how to sum up his life.
Perhaps this will tell you best.
Shortly after Jim passed, my daughter call with good news.  As I congratulated her and rejoiced with her, she caught the hint of sorrow in me.  And she ask what was wrong.  And so I told her, "Jim died."
She had a bit of trouble remembering exactly who he was as she had only met him a few times.  So I jogged her memory.  Then she exclaimed, "Oh no, Mama.  Not the nice man."
And that is it that says it best. 
He was a NICE man.
OnceAgain

Jim

We will attend a viewing; this afternoon. A long time in coming.
Remember I told you of my friend,Jim, who passed back in December? On the 22nd?
It will be for him.
The memorial mass will be tomorrow.
Yesterday his obituary finally appeared in the local paper. Finally.
It was the driest, barest, coldest, least representative narrative of an individual I've read in a long time.
Oh, all the proper people were mentioned. The sons; the sisters - who he loved but rarely saw; the nieces; nephews - who were rarely part of his life; the wife - from whom he'd been separated for 18 YEARS.
His military career was brushed over. No real mention of his many, many accomplishments.
His work as a Contractor after his retirement was a gloss. Nada. Nothing.
The man was awarded the Order of St. Michael's, for gosh sake. He supported the homeless veterans; quietly, but consistently. He always made sure that we had a place to celebrate the 4th of July.
Nothing was made of the fact this man was a Patriot; a Soldier who revered and loved his Country.
Last, but never, never least; no mention was made of his friends. Jim had tons of friends. But especially Janis and Matt. They had grown so very close these last few years. Those two were tirelessly devoted to him in his last weeks; last days.
It was they who were at his bedside as he drew his last breath. It was they who gave him the "okay" to stop the painful battle with life and ease into Heaven. It was they who best demonstrated that selfless, selfless last act of purest love.
For all that he could be; aggravating, exasperating, stubborn, mischievous, and prissy (yes, I said prissy); Jim was loyal, true, fun, mischievous (it works both ways people), and just a darn good guy.
And THAT was what should have been written.
All of it.
Janis and Matt deserved more; Jim would have wanted it.
Jim deserved more; he earned it.
So I've written this. It doesn't matter the year of birth or death; it matters what a person WAS.
JIM TORNEY was a damn fine man.
And we loved him.
God speed, old friend.
OnceAgain