Happenings

My mind is on overload. There's so much I have to do in the next couple months, and on top of it, my solve that I've had for a few months now is really coming together and making more and more sense as I read the poem and book over and over again...and as I go back through things F has written, my confirmation or confirmation bias (won't know which til I search) grows stronger.

And work is so busy that when I get home, I just want to relax for a few minutes, without cats or kittens or kids or anything. I really could sleep for three days straight, I think. Lol. But stuff has to get done, and I plow on.

I want to take a minute to brag about Joe...

He participated in a county-wide World Heritage Competition last weekend, and he had submitted a story, but was told beforehand that it went over the word limit by 1,000 words, so he would be disqualified. However, his Latin teacher forgot to include that rule when she discussed the assignment, so she wanted him to submit the story anyway. I now know why...he won FIRST PLACE! And the story will move on to the state competition.

The assignment topic was "Modern Myth." They could either take an old myth and re-write it in modern language, or make up a myth and write it in modern language. Joe chose to make up a new myth, and it was so good that he won first place even though he should have been disqualified for going over the word estimate. It totally surprised him, and he was so proud (and of course, I was too) of this ribbon:

When I read his story, I was amazed at how well-written and entertaining it was. He wrote about how the Nile was formed, and it was really imaginative without being over the top, and sounded exactly how a myth should sound in the terminology of today. We're going to try and get it published in a magazine about mythology that pays 25 cents a word (which is pretty darn good). He figures he would make about $516 for the story.

Speaking of art, the surgeon I work for surprised me and my boss the other day. When my boss is on the phone, she doodles on a desk calendar with a black Sharpee. Depending on how the call is going, she either doodles relaxing curves or what she calls "Christmas trees," which symbolize stress or frustration and are full of sharp, jagged angles. 

When last month was over, the doctor took the artwork covering the days, then flipped it over. He liked what he saw in the "abstract art," and this week, he got it framed. I got a little honorable mention, because at some point in the month, I thought the piece could use some eyes...so the eyes are my contribution:

Anyway, they're waiting to be hung somewhere in the building. Lol. It's amazing how little things like someone's doodles can bring a measure of happiness.

Oh, and isn't this a beautiful painting by Eric Sloane? I love his Taos paintings. This one features geese making their flight back north after a cold NM winter... I love the lighting in the sky. I'm amazed at how Eric could depict the sky so realistically and so ideally at the same time...

James is coming over tonight to help get things ready to move. We're thinking about hauling everything to a storage unit and auctioning it off "Storage Wars" style. We'll advertise it to the hilt and put some valuable items in there to entice a crowd. We're not sure of the legality of it, and what it would entail, so right now it's just in the idea and fact-finding stage. But it would be cool if we could make it happen. We'd put in less effort in preparing, and probably make more money than if we attempted to sell each thing piece by piece. 

Anyway, it's that time of the day...I'm glad it's Friday!

Hmmmm...No Full Moon

I was sure there had to be a full moon all week...but there's not, is there?

This week has been a little crazy, and I'll keep this post short because I slept in till 5:30 this morning due to events that happened during the night.

Around midnight, I hear the front door open and two voices--one of them is my daughter. A few minutes later, I hear the front door close again...and my daughter sobbing.

When my daughter cries, everyone knows it. She flat-out sobs like she wants the world to cover their ears. When I cry, you usually won't know it unless I look you in the eye, which is not too often.

Anyway, the sobbing echoes throughout the house, and seems to linger right outside my bedroom door. I think she wanted to make sure I heard her. So, I called out, "Why are you crying? What's wrong?"

And she walked in, sobbing her head off, and plunked down on the foot of my bed.

Aidan: (Sobbing)

Me: What's wrong?

Aidan: I...I...I just gave Webby AWAY!

Me: Awww, it'll be okay. We have to find homes for them. We just can't keep them.

Aidan: (amazingly, sobbing even louder) I know, I understand that. I'm just sad cause Webby doesn't know what's happening, and she might be scared, and Trina and Trick Daddy and Trappy and Boosie won't know what happened to their sister and they might be confused...

Me: (finally understanding why she was sad--I'd thought it was because she would miss Webby) Oh...well, we know she's going to a good home, right? She's going to be okay. Remember, you brought home Trappy when she was super tiny, too, and she was happy right from the start.

Aidan: I...(sob, sob) know... it's just hard...

I gave her a hug and she went upstairs to her room, the sobbing halted...until the next kitten leaves today...

But she continued to text me for the next couple hours about how she's not able to help around the house lately because she's working 50-60 hours a week.

This is one of those times I don't know what to say. I think she should help out around the house more, or maybe contribute some rent money since she's working so much. I have to move by July 1st, because the landlord is increasing the rent by $200 a month, and I can't justify three people living in this giant house for such a huge amount of money.

The landlord also wants to start showing the house by the end of next week, which means a ton of organizing and hauling stuff to Goodwill has to happen this weekend and next weekend. We have one bedroom stacked two feet high with my mom's clothes and other stuff. It's going to be a LOT of work to clear things out.

But, when the going gets tough, the tough get tougher and make things happen. So, that's what I'm gonna do. With a smile.

I am finding just a little time (bath time, to be exact) to read over Forrest's vignette's on Dal's and take some notes. Looking at the whole picture, some things REALLY stick out, and not just a needle in a lump of mud. I'll post some interesting connections, like the thread that connects the omniscient guru and the man up the stair, at some point.

My next goal will be to read through some of the SB's (I believe very few of them are useful), and do the same thing as I've done with the vignettes.

And I just received a fresh copy of the book, so I'll be reading that again for the 94894th time, too. But just during bath time, cause otherwise, I have a house to pack up, fix up, and move out of.

Dreamboree

Last night, I had a strange dream...

I dreamed we were at Fennboree (it must've been Fennboree, because there were a lot of cars parked willly nilly and Cynthia was pointing people in the right direction), and it was in a really remote place and I think it was Montana, but out in this middle of nowhere place, was a giant, Dr. Seuss-like mall.

It reminded me of this cover:

But the actual Fennboree was being held at a beach...attached to an ocean. And it was still Montana. Lol.

As I was driving up with the kids, Cynthia waved me to a parking spot behind her. We got out of the car and suddenly, from out of the blue, lightning flashed, followed by the largest peal of thunder I've ever heard. Everyone ran for a garage that was suddenly there. Another flash and boom had us diving for cover around big empty boxes.

Then the weather was nice again, and I joined Forrest as he waded in the shallow ocean water, looking for seashells. We had a really nice time, and there were a LOT of seashells. Then he said, "Oh!" and reached for something in the water.

"What is it?" I asked, peering closer.

He pointed to a thin, tin-foil-ish bottle cap thing. He pointed to the scalloped edges and said, "It's an 0-5 Nickel. Worth a little bit."

I saw another little gleam in the shallows as a weak thread of sunlight touched the water. "There's
another one!" I said, and pulled the piece out.

He said, "That's a 1910 dime, and not worth as much."

I said, "Well, it's still pretty, so I'll keep it."

Another shell caught my attention...it was a deep brown conch, and protruding from it's underbelly was another, smaller shell. I think it's called a "whelk," but I like "hermit crab shell" better, so that's what I call it.  The hermit crab shell was a rich, deep blue--my favorite color. Before I could discern the telltale spiral, I thought a large dark sapphire was stuck in the conch. Sapphires are my birthstone, and also my favorite gemstone.

It looked a little like this, but a deeper, richer blue...

The conch was an ordinary, hand sized conch like these, but deeper brown:

I showed it to Forrest, and he said he wanted it. Someone walked up and scolded me as I gave it to Forrest. Whoever it was said in a haughty voice, "You shouldn't be taking things from the sea. Others should enjoy them." I think her name might've been Edith.

I shrugged, then replied, "Forrest wants it. If we leave it here, the waves will bury it in the sand and then no one can enjoy it." I gave it one last wistful look as Forrest put it in his pocket. I hoped he wouldn't put it in a file cabinet. I sorta had wanted the shell, but the way his eyes lit up when he noticed the color of the blue reinforced my belief that it's good to give away small joys.

Then, there was this little, tentacled creature that came into sight. I grabbed it, and it was slither-y and sorta slimy, but also had a tingly, slightly electric feel. It was like a cuttlefish, sorta, but had a soft shell and it's tentacles were long, thin, and purple. And it was much cuter than this:


I held it up to Forrest, and he wanted it, too. As he took it, it slipped from his hands and shot off into deeper water.

I was determined to catch it, so I followed it. As I closed in, a giant squid grabbed it and gobbled it up, swallowing it whole in this freaky tube mouth thing. It was like a vacuum cleaner. Lol.

I scowled at it, and it returned my gaze with a remorseful look that told me it was sorry. It spit out the little creature into my hand, and as I was returning to shore, I wondered how Forrest would manage to keep  it alive, as it couldn't survive without seawater. I thought about letting it go, but decided to see if Forrest had any ideas.

He did. I walked up the beach, and Forrest already had a little purple plastic octagon-shaped aquarium, and there were a few little hiding places for the creature to squeeze into. I gently placed the squiggly thing into the water, and it looked kinda happy as it explored it's new surroundings.

However, I didn't especially like the thought of this little squirmy thing living a life of captivity.
Then, two eyes poked out from the top of a hollow log decoration. The creature I put in bugged out it's own similar eyes at the sight. Somehow, Forrest had found this little guy a friend, probably a female friend, and I assume the two lived happily ever after.

Then I woke up.

I remember this dream very vividly, probably because it occurred just before I woke up this morning, and I type this as it's still fresh in my mind. And no, I didn't fill in any gaps with parts I couldn't remember, as people often do to make their dreams intelligible. This was actually the dream, step by step. It's rare that I remember every part of a dream so clearly...

Anyway, time to get ready to look at and take pictures of bones...

The Weekend

This weekend, Joe had a Latin Competition, and surprisingly, Aidan wanted to take him. So it was nice that they got some quality brother and sister time. I decided to go to James's, because he was having a carpenter/craftsman come to talk about some stuff, and he wanted to bbq.

So, after work Friday, I hurriedly packed to avoid the inevitable traffic on Hell's Highway, otherwise known as I-4. Despite it being before 5:00, I encountered four pretty bad accidents--one a four or five  car pile up. Luckily, I only have to travel I-4 for about 60 miles before I exit onto 27, a long stretch of rural type road with tons of stoplights and places to stop to get gas and snacks. And there are probably like 24 McDonald's on that road before I had to turn onto 29, for the last lonely stretch of road before James's house.

But, despite the accidents encountered along the way, I made it to James's in good time.  Saturday morning, we went to the brand new Publix and bought a lot of food for the bbq--hamburger's steaks, chips, etc. Then came back and James got some stuff ready while I dug through his closet for one of his shirts to wear before listening to music and working on something on the poem.

Then we laid out in the sun for a while and jumped in the pool, and played some pool (he won two games--I won one). After that, we went for a short bike ride to wake up our bikes that had been in hibernation. Both of our bikes need a little work. Lol.

Out by the pool, the pleasant sunshine made us silly...(BTW, this photo is un-retouched...I have a "beauty mark" that I don't find very beautiful and THAT'S why I usually photoshop it out. LOL. Also, I often smooth out my thyroidectomy scar, because it's still too fresh in my own self-critical opinion. However, I left it in in the first pic (with reading glasses), and again, very very little photoshopping done. Oh wait--I did add a filter called "Cafeteria" in the pic below--it just made the photo more vivid.)

 And, once you take the beauty mark out, you might as well make everything smoother! Hey, I figure since I don't wear makeup, I'm entitle to compensate in some ways. I'm a lot less "fake" than the makeup plasterers of the world. Lol.

Then the carpenter and his helper arrived, and they were actually pretty cool. Wyatt was only 21, and really liked my playlist that was playing over the Bose, and it didn't even have any rap on it, but a mixture of 80's, 90's and today's music. I was surprised to find a 21 year old that knows the words to "I Will Follow" by U2. Lol.

Wyatt seemed to gravitate to me, and we played a game of pool, which I won by only one ball. As we ate dinner, Wyatt commented on my awesome playlist and we started talking about music. Wyatt is an aspiring actor/music producer kind of kid, very artistic and poetic. He's got the artsy personality, where everything is deep and his heart is huge.

We showed each other poetry we've written, and he actually writes very well. The poem about my mom's last day made him cry (and me too, because he read it out loud, softly), and when he looked up, he asked to give me a hug. I let him, lol. You can find that poem HERE.

Then we showed each other some of the music we liked on YouTube while the older guys talked carpentry. Lol. One artist I REALLY liked was Lana Del Rey. I'd heard her name before but never experienced her music. I watched "Love" and got goosebumps. So, I added it to my playlist, and he ended up adding Lindsey Sterling and Pentatonix to his. Anyway, it was nice to share stories with a young man with the whole world still wide open before him, and it felt good to give him some encouraging words.

And it was nice to meet someone who enjoys musicians who really seem to enjoy what they're doing, rather than doing it for money or fame. They do it for passion, and that's noticeable.

I played a little bit of "Hallelujah" on piano, and it was woeful because I'm so out of practice. So we watched the Pentatonix version, which also gives me goosebumps.

After Wyatt and the carpenter guy left, James settled down for the night and watched "The Hunger Games," or at least the end of one of them until we fell into sweet sleep. Then I slept til 10:00 and was amazed I could sleep that late. So, I booked it home so I could get in some time with Joe and hear about his competition, where he had a lot of fun, and Aidan did, too.

And I happened across this awesome video by Jon Ronson that I think a certain hate group could learn from. Actually, we all can take away something from Mr. Ronson's wise words. It makes me wonder if FF was getting at this in his latest featured question. Watch all the way to the end, and you might hear some key words...

Anyway, time for another work week!

Martha

As most of you know, FF has put a new "Passages" on Dal's and it's pretty good. 23kachinas noted there was an online version, and when I read further down in the comments that Martha had run off to Hawaii, I checked out the online version.

I, like Jeremy, like the checkout cards. When I was a kid in elementary school, "Library Day" was the best day of the week, and I eventually checked out many different books, mostly about animals and ghosts. I liked seeing who else had checked out the books between my repeated checkouts of the same books and it was usually no one. I never thought it was weird I was the only one checking out that particular book, but maybe it was. I don't know. A person likes what they like, and I liked animals (even cats, back then).

Anyway, I admit I haven't read the whole book, Loom of the Desert, but I skimmed the story about Martha this morning. Martha ran off to Hawaii. How amazing! And coincidental. Maybe my Hawaii theory is right, or maybe it's just a coincidence. But it's got me a' thinkin'.

One passage in particular I found moving:

Fires have burned as fiercely within that woman's breast as ever burned the fires of Kilauea; and when they were ready to burst their bounds, she fled in her impulse to the coral isles of the peaceful Western sea, and there her ears heard the sound, and her heart learned the meaning of words that have left no visible sign upon her--the wondrous, sweet words of a dream, whispered to her unceasingly, while she gave herself up to an enchantment as mad and bewildering as that of the rhythmic hula-hula.
If she sinned, she does not seem to know it. Going about at her work, as before, the expressionless face is a mask; yet it may be she is moving in a dream-world, wherein she lives over once again the months that were hers--once--in the far Hawaiian Isles.

I think that's a wonderful passage. Some might not agree with Martha for leaving her husband, a good man, a hard worker, yet had never given her what she longed for--romance. Martha, after having experienced the beauty and riches of the Isles, eventually returned to her old life--her "home,"--but with the romance of Hawaii in her heart and living again in her dreams. Even the memories and imaginative dreams of Paradise can brighten an otherwise dusty existence. So, we can't blame Martha. I wonder what FF thinks about Martha, and her inability to "stick a thing out?" I can't imagine he blames her, and he must relate in some way--maybe in the theme of imagination being more fun and important than knowledge.

Because Martha came back, left Hawaii and its romance, and in the end, chose her imagination and "home" over the physical knowledge.

Anyway, I can see how it could be a fun rabbit hole to explore. I also think the photos and captions FF chose for his review tell a story all by themselves..."Where the burros browsed..."

Which is probably what Judy Garland was getting at when she said:

I think it all comes down to balance. Work hard, but don't starve your imagination or stifle your dreams. They're all good for the soul. Like unicorns.

Ode to Idah...and My Take on Catsup

Wow, I actually liked Forrest book review on Dal's. Well done, Forrest. I especially like the part about embracing different. Being normal is hard work...and boring. Being yourself is the only way to be!

I also like the words "...mellow class, wistfully, all of us would have." Wise words for a belligerent generation.

And look at that...he used the word "captions" again!

I wrote this little whatever this is last night:

Combat lies with kindness,
Counter hate with love,
Fight your wars with peace,
And you will rise above.

Anyway, it's a lot of fun to stumble upon books like that.

Okay, so I finally had time to read the question about F's military career. First of all, it's funny to note that of all the horrors Forrest must have witnessed, he chose a cute little story about a "catsup" bottle in the "mess" hall to tell us about. I like that. Remembering humorous anecdotes is much more pleasing in the retelling.

When I read this Q&A, certain things "stick out."

First, "memory harkens."

That's a different way of saying "memory listens (or hears)." Hmmm, a little odd phrasing, don't you think?

Harkens comes from a German word, kleu (also interesting), and means "to hear." So, we have Forrest's "hearing" this memory. Maybe his mind takes him back to the sounds of the mess hall--the clinking of silverware and plates being set down on tables, laughter, chatter, and the noises that frequently occupy a school cafeteria.

But there are other curious sound related phrases in this answer.

"His LOOK TOLD me..." The "Mess Sergeant's" LOOK spoke words to Forrest. Maybe that's why Forrest hates "texting machines." They don't have the ability of expression, which is a vital part of communication. It's very hard to communicate expression on a phone, and emoji's are a rather sorry reproduction of the thousands of expressions a human face can convey.

"...slapped in his face by his words..." Words can't physically hurt us...but they can wound, and are sometimes more damaging than people imagine. I remember one time Aidan, when she was about five, came downstairs with a dress that she couldn't quite get on a hanger. My ex MIL was visiting, and she used a forbidden word in our household, and Aidan has never forgotten it. My MIL snapped, "What are you? Stupid?" Then snatched the hanger out of Aidan's hand and put the dress on the hanger herself. I was appalled, as Aidan was clearly "slapped in the face" by her rash and unkind words. The sad thing is, she didn't realize how damaging the word "stupid" is to a child.

"...decided to shut up..." This shows us that Forrest took a minute to think before opening his mouth. Another good lesson. Sometimes being quiet is better than being right.

There are also a few interesting references to sight in this Q&A. I've already mentioned the "look" that told FF he should've eaten the glass-riddled "catsup."

Then there's:

"...rarely saw one (officers)."
"...battle chevrons glared with impunity." Now that's an interesting one. First, I didn't know there were "battle chevrons," because there aren't. Chevrons are the stripes that denote military rank, and six stripes is indeed a Master Sergeant. Five stripes (or "5 bar", or 5 inverted chevrons) in a "V"shape and one chevron (not inverted) at the top.

So, does Forrest imply earning those chevrons and moving up in rank was a battle in itself? To become a "Master" in anything is not usually an easy journey. Maybe that's why Forrest wasn't sure just being a "Major" didn't necessarily "rank" (left "out") a "Master." Being a "Master" sure sounds better, doesn't it?

And interesting that the word "master" originates from a word that means "to acquire complete knowledge." Another early meaning was from the German word, meister, which means "he who is greater."

Chevrons have also been used in architecture, and in ancient rock writing. Looks like the Indian symbol for water, doesn't it?

It's also sorta funny to note that Canadian forces refer to chevrons as "hooks," and the Dutch refer to them as "bananas!" Grab as many as you can to be come a "Master!" Lol.

Chevrons were also widely used in heraldry:

And if you really want to get some cool insight into chevrons, Google "petrasomatoglyph."

More references to sight:

"...focused..."

"...observed..."

"Look Sergeant..." There should be a comma between "look" and "sergeant," but there's not. To me, that could be a hint. LOOK SERGEANT, which tells us where to look.

And he not only uses the attention-drawing missing comma once, but again with "Well Private." Private well, maybe?

Now, let's look at some individual words. The word "sergeant" comes from a word meaning "servant." An alternate spelling was serjeant from Old French, which was used in the sense of men who served the king in matters of law.

It's interesting there are some "courtly" words in this answer, too. "Justifiably," "just," and "impunity." Impunity means without punishment. The phrase F used was  "...chevrons glared with impunity..." The word "glare" sort of implies punishment, but is followed by the word "impunity." Odd...

The word "overwhelmed" is really interesting. The word "whelm" comes from words that mean "to cover" and "to arch."

The word "overwhelm" means to "cover completely" or "completely submerge" and even "to turn upside down" (reminds me of the inverted chevrons which are simple V's).

The word "malplaced" isn't a word, so I think you have to take the word apart to understand what F is talking about. The prefix "mal" can mean "Bad, ill, evil, sin, slander, wrongly, mistake, or lie.

Something I find a little strange is that FF was "overawed," by the MSgt's survival of the Bataan Death March. Why was he OVERawed? It sounds like Forrest thinks this guy's survival wasn't quite as big a deal as he'd once thought.

So, I wondered if I might be able to find this guy. A MSgt in the AF in 1950 who survived the March...

There are a few survivors that caught my attention:

From Wikipedia:

Father Albert Braun was born John William Braun to German immigrants in Los Angeles, California.^[2] Braun was ordained in 1915 and his first assignment was to the Mescalero Apache Reservation in 1916.

St. Joseph's Catholic Church, Mescalero, New Mexico - 1975

In June 1918, he was permitted by his superiors to enlist as a US Army chaplain at Fort Bliss, El Paso, Texas. He soon saw action with the 6th Infantry Division in one of the bloodiest World War I battles fought by American troops, the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. Instead of staying in safety at the rear, the unarmed chaplain went "over the top" with the first assault and suffered shrapnel wounds to his jaw. Despite his injuries he remained on the battlefield to minister to the wounded and to give last rites to the dying. For these actions, Braun received the Purple Heart.

Following the war, Braun helped to construct St. Joseph Apache Mission Church, finished in 1939.

So, he was interesting, but wasn't in the Army Air Corps or the Air Force, so probably not him.

This guy, Albert Brown, with his ties to Buffalo Bill, is even more interesting (also from Wikipedia):

Albert Brown was born on October 26, 1905, in North Platte, Nebraska to parents, Albert and Ida Fonda Brown.^[4] His mother was the aunt of actor Henry Fonda.^[4] His father, Albert, was a railroad engineer.^[4] Brown was also the godson of Buffalo Bill.^[2]

Brown was raised in Council Bluffs, Iowa, following the death of his father, who worked as a railroad engineer, in a locomotive engine explosion.^[1] He joined the R.O.T.C.while in high school.^[4] Brown received a bachelor's degree in dentistry from Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, in 1927.

Brown recorded the events he witnessed in secret using a small writing tablet and pencil hidden inside his canvas bag's lining.

A few other possible candidates caught my eye, but to save space, I'll let you Google them:

William Dyess

Samuel Grashio

Jesse Monroe Knowles

One other thing: The Bataan Death March was the subject of a documentary called The Forgotten Hell.

Maybe the reason why the survivor's look told Forrest he should eat the glass filled "catsup" was because that was like filet mignon compared to what he'd had to eat in the March. 

Anyway, I wonder if this Q&A was another "Who's Who" in those that influenced Forrest in some way. 

Of course, I recommend Googling "Bataan Death March" for more interesting correlations to this Q&A!

And as far as the whole "catsup" thing, I'm not sure it wasn't a diversion from the real meat. Unless we're talking about sound again. The origin of the word comes from Chinese ke-tsiup, which we didn't really have a sound for in America, and the closest we could come was "catsup" or "ketchup." I don't think he was trying to tell anyone they need to "catch up," unless by "catch up" he means catch up to whatever we're chasing. Or maybe it has to do with cats being up in a tree or something. Lol. 

Have a good day!

Oh Kittens in a Coke Box!

I slept late today. Usually if I don't naturally wake up around 4:00 am, my alarm goes off around 5:00-ish. But I forgot to turn my alarms back on after my vacation. Dang i....I mean Kittens in a Coke Box! Lol.

It may be one of "those" days...my iPad is acting up, too.

Yesterday when I got home, three little kittens with mittens were all lounging like mini Cleopatras on the carpet. They look at me like "Who dares to interrupt our lounging?"

I walked up and sat down to give them a couple zaps from the Taser I always carry in my pocket, and they all rolled over on their backs for "tummies."

How can anyone Taser these little pot bellied magicians of evil?

How can anyone zap these little pot belly magicians of evil?

Trina seems to be showing the spot I need to vacuum.
Trina: "This bit of paper and bwue wint (blue lint) -- pwease remove with your loud and scarwy yew ( scary yellow) monster...now."
Me: "You vacuum it yourself, you little evil maniac. And mop the kitchen while you're at it."

Anyway, Aidan has found homes for all but one. I'm not sure which one, but I think my friend Karen K will take it.

The X-ray machine at work blew a fuse yesterday around lunchtime and won't be up and working again until Thursday. And the doctor will be out for the next three days, so we've got some time to work ahead, which will be nice. I'll miss my X-ray workouts though.
 
I used to tease Callie that she was angsty, with her headphone listening teenage ways. She never really was, because she's almost always cheerful. She sent me this pic yesterday, and I just can't get over how amazingly Kittens in a Coke Box beautiful she is. I love her so much!

She's my amazing sixteen year old slice of heaven. Straight A's, and a budding author. :)

Have a wonderful day everybody. A day isn't spent well unless you treat all you meet with kindness. So, spend well.

And in case I haven't been silly already:

A Terrible Surprise

So I wake up early, and like every morning, I stumble half blindly into the kitchen to get my morning Zero...Coke Zero, and toast.

But today, I nearly tripped over a twelve pack of Coke lying in the middle of the floor.

In my sleepy stupor, I thought, "Oh, how nice. Aidan picked up some Coke to replace all that she drinks. Woulda been nice if she coulda put it on the counter."

I was too tired to realize the terrible truth.

Have you ever been unfortunate enough to step on or smack a pregnant spider with a shoe? You know that feeling...where you shriek like a schoolgirl as you scramble to get away from the sheer horror of the wave of thousands of tiny siders pouring over themselves to get at you?

That was almost what I felt when kittens, instead of Coke, came pouring out of the box.

Oh, kittens. They're the bane of my existence.  I think that'll be my new swear word. Instead of "Dang it!" I'll say "Kittens in the Coke!"

Thankfully, they'll all be going to new homes by the end of this week.

Sorry, James...I love you, but the kittens have gotta go!

Speaking of James, he's the best. Really. I feel very blessed, every day.

This pic is literally not photoshopped. His house and being with him is literally that magical. Stars everywhere and just makes you feel so young! Lol.

(PS-the Gucci photo was not stretched, lol)

Work yesterday was a little crazy as I caught up with an onslaught of new surgery cases added while I was gone. But I did get caught up so I can concentrate on just x-ray today.

I had a dream about work last night, but it was weird, because it also incorporated the chase. There was a patient who was also a searcher and he was a well known screen name, but I can't remember what it was. I do remember his real name in the dream (I don't know his real name in real life), but he stopped by the office to pick up his statement for some reason, and I wasn't wearing scrubs, but a tee shirt and shorts. Lol.

The weird part is I don't know where I got this guy's name from, and I'm wondering if the name is the name of an actual patient (I don't think it is), or the name of an actual searcher (I don't think it is, but I get a ton of email from the blogs and I'm struggling right now to try and answer them all).

Weird, though. What would be really weird is if the name in my dream was actually the real name of the searcher. I think the screen name had Wyoming in it, but it's not Wymustigo, cause I know his real name. According to MW, it's God. Lol. :)

Anyway, time to get ready for a very busy day!

May your journey today be graced with laughter and smiles. Lighten up, have fun, and be kind to one another. It's amazing how good it'll make you feel.

Special shout out to Rocklin, CA, who visited my blog for the first time (this month, anyway) yesterday!