AND THEN….

Well what happened next?

Just after I finished my previous blog on my ditziness of the day, I started to pack up my things and head home.  I had come to my fav Williams Coffee Pub to write, hoping the change in environment would reset my universal flow button.  It did not.  BUT.

As I was about to leave a young couple sat down across from me.  Probably in their twenties… both really really good looking.
Anyway I noticed as I was putting on my jacket that she was nudging his leg under the table with her foot.  I thought that was so cutesy. THEN he sits back with a cocky look on his face and says…”So we have some issues and are we going to deal with them or not deal with them?”. AND he has such a smirk on his face because he has total control.  She is trying to be loving and seductive with the old foot trick and he knows he can make her feel awful.  She is contrite and he is….”so I did some things, and I said some things..you have to decide if you can live with that.”

Oh I peeled that jacket off so fast!  I wanna see how this plays out.
I am seated so I have a full view of him and only back and side of her.  He talks, eats, moves a round in his chair but..never never looks directly at her, just very quick rare glances. gauging her reaction to each of his boastful claims.  I think he just wants to be sure he is retaining control.  He keeps looking out the windows as if he would rather be anywhere but here.

God she is so gorgeous-why is she putting up with this?

She is talking now trying to work things out.  He is now looking directly out the window while she speaks and then down at his plate. Now he is responding with short sentences and still not looking at her.

He is still ignoring her while she talks and now she is back to stroking his leg under the table with her foot!  With no favorable response from him she has returned her foot to a neutral position.

Everything in me is screaming STUPID ALERT, STUPID ALERT,  Call out the dogs!!! man the guns!!! Danger!!! danger!!!

Would I have wanted someone to intervene when that was me years ago..and it was me..  Okay he has put on his coat and she has not…should I say something to her??  Should I?

Now He has reaches out to gently touch her fingers and gaze in her eyes.  To her credit she just picked up her sandwich in both hands..nuts and is putting her coat on also now.  Phew they both left ..sigh ..that removes my tough decision on intervention.

Thank God one of my blogging heroes, Joss at crowingcrone just wrote this morning about letting others make their own decisions and it was the first blog I read.  Thank you Joss it kept me on the straight and narrow..and appropriate!

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Fitting in that skin..it won’t fit..it won’t fit!

Fitting in that Skin..it won’t fit..it won’t fit!

Some days you just can’t get comfortable in your own skin. (Please keep in mind that even though I appear to be speaking for all I really am speaking for me and just assuming you might have some idea of what I am talking about). 

See what I mean? My mind is all rambly.  Note I did not say my thoughts were rambling…it just seems to be part of being uncomfortable in your skin, everything is rambly.

It’s as though I am out sync with the flow with the universe, the rhythm of life, slipped a cog, lost my footing, have a screw loose, lights on in the attic but no one is home.  Good grief…..screws, footing, rhythm…I AM FALLING APART!  Now I am agitated, waiting for a limb to drop off next. Crap!

I felt it coming yesterday.  Not quite like losing my hold on reality but knowing that for a small period of time, if my life were a biorhythm chart, that all criteria were heading to the bottom of the graph with a huge kerplunk to lay knotted  and tangled. It happens a couple of times a year, I think.  I wonder if it was triggered by that crazy moon, or if the rudeness of those beastly people on the weekend put a dent in my aura of calm and peace?  Oh my aura.  I miss it.  I checked and don’t think I have any kind of aura right now.  Nuts does that mean I am aura-less?

I know this is rare and will pass and life will return to calm clear thinking; a person fully intact – aura possessed, common sense, able to make a declarative sentence.

Tomorrow is another day.  This day is not meant decision making or soul searching, operating large machinery, or even small machinery, or any machinery more than a tooth brush.

I can only hope that world leaders, nuclear scientists, brain surgeons, and the Royal Wedding planner can wait one more day before soliciting my much needed advice.

Versatile Blogger Award

Versatile Blogger Award

I have not been a blogger for long and really had no idea on where to start.  The initial motivation came from my future daughter in law who enjoyed my stories and suggested I write down my thoughts.  Not sure where the value was in blogging I started, timidly.  Then I found treasures more than I could ever imagine.  They are the stories, poems and meanderings of a remarkable group of people.  Stories that have made me cry, made me laugh and helped me in my journey of self realization.

When Colleen Brown, The Chatter Master received this award she was charged with sending it on to others.  By some miracle I was one of those people.  And in so receiving I pass it on to others, all Masters in their own right.  People who when I wake each day I rush to see what new things they have posted.  People who make my day. There cannot be any priority in listing these folk. It would be impossible but with this recognition goes my every lasting thanks for letting me in any way be part of your fabulous lives.

Source of Inspiration patcegan.wordpress.com whom I consider a mentor having taken brave steps surrendering all.

The Domestic Fringe thedomesticfringe.wordpress.com Tricia who welcomes us into her wacky wonderful world and makes us feel like part of that family.

Crowing Crone Joss crowingcrone.wordpress.com who always knows the right thing to say with style.

Mouli at stickyideas.wordpress.com who cheers me on half a world away

The War Fish’s Lair brahmineyes.wordpress.com who sometimes makes me cry and sometimes makes me search my inner soul

Eliza Keating fedoraslane.wordpress.com who reaches out to encourage and is a light to all who read her.

Hey from Japan Amblerangel.wordpress.com who gives us a fly on the wall view of new culture in the midst of earthquakes and tsunamis and handling it with compassion, reality and class

And while there cannot ever be a last, 

Pig and Pepper Gregoryhamel.wordpress.com who stretches my grey cells forcing new thoughts and considerations.

From Colleen’s post it seems I am supposed to tell you seven random facts about myself:

First generation baby boomer. 
Been a nurse all my life- it’s in my blood. 
I get better as I get older, I swear!
Love my age
Addicted to Williams Coffee Pub and their half waffle and fruit
Love music and when I grow up want to be a singer..if only I could carry a tune..but persist in singing always
Have been Blessed and protected all my life!

Crazy Weekend..Crazy Life..or Crazy Full Moon

Crazy Weekend..Crazy Life..or Crazy Full Moon

This weekend past (thank God in the past) was reported to be the largest full moon in eighteen years.  It apparently happens every eighteen years –  like clock work…or rather moon work.

There has been, since I can remember, stories about the effect on mankind under a full moon.  Some funny, some sad, and all weird one way or another.

When I started in nursing way back, in dinosaur times according to some, we saw the effects in our emergency.  It is known as the lunar effect, sometimes the Transylvania effect.  There are lots of movies and stories that support the weirdness of it all from werewolves to psychotics.

Scientists have done studies and most maintain that in spite of police and hospital assertions that the wierdometers go off that charts that this in effect is not true.  I don’t know if some hospitals still add extra staffing on those nights but we used to.  And it was always warranted.

Skeptic’sDictionary says:
“If so many studies have failed to prove a significant correlation between the full moon and anything, why do so many people believe in these lunar myths? Kelly, Rotton, and Culver suspect four factors: media effects, folklore and tradition, misconceptions, and cognitive biases. A fifth factor should be considered, as well: communal reinforcement.

the media perpetuate lunar myths”

I have witnessed the strangeness again and again and think one of two things is possible.  First that yes we are truly affected or secondly that we embrace the myth and give ourselves permission to act out.

I can tell you from this past weekend that something was going on.  So many folk were just plain *itchy.  More than one would usually encounter in a day.  Seriously so.

I pulled into a service station, a Husky, which has always had great customer service.  The kind that still pump your gas for you.  I sat and sat and no came.  Hmm were they even open for business.  Yup the sign said so.  It was not until another car drove in that the employee came sauntering out.  I’m all smiley, excited about the nice treatment I am about to get, when he grumbles, “how are you paying”. He says this twice.  I told him Visa and he rudely says I have to go inside to pay. So I get out of my car and lock it as he definitely has a dark nasty untrustworthy aura about him.  But perhaps the nice customer service is waiting inside.  The girl in the next car also comes inside. She also is looking a little puzzled.
I ask her how she is paying and she say with cash. And he still told her to come inside.

Eventually Mr. Miserable enters (so no there was no nice customer service person inside)  and I hand him my card.  While he is processing it with one hand he takes his cell phone with the other and dials and says, “What’s up.” He throws my card across the counter and proceeds to rudely address the other girl over his personal phone conversation.

Note to self: Never again go to the Husky Service Station on the corner of Ottawa and Mohawk in Hamilton Ontario. In fact never go to a Husky again.  I walk away wondering if a complaint to the company is worthwhile.

As I am driving down the highway I think that perhaps that chap was one of a kind and my high level tolerant self decides to move on with my day.  I won’t let that one incident color my world.

Once home I go downstairs to meet my sister in law who is delivering platters of goodies for a bridal shower I am throwing.  Her face is red and she is distressed.  Seems when she pulled up a taxi driver behind her started yelling and ranting that she could not park there. This may not seem strange to some but here in Kitchener that is rare behavior.  We are generally a polite people.

I had gotten permission from the owners of my building to use our party room for the shower.  It is right next to our gym with two doorways to the gym. One from the party room and one from the hall. Well next thing a woman comes down to use the gym and proceeds through the party room – which is fine – but she moves around some of our decorations that the superintendent had suggested we put there to block off the room.  She is mad we are in her space. Not just mad but furious.  We had two bowls of nonalcoholic punch.  I did note at one point she was leaning against the wall using her cell phone.  Later the superintendent told me she had called The Police to report we had alcohol in a public place.  The police then dutifully called the super.

When I was out shopping I watched others.  Were they more somber, more agitated?  It seemed so but then the thought did occur to me that perhaps I was just more agitated.  The good news is that old moon starts to wane now!  

Granny Nanny Day 3&4..fading fast

Granny Nanny Day Three and Day Four

Fading fast….

I have discovered some basic truths in my childcare experience this week:

Just because a child turns three it does not mean he is out of the terrible twos.

Children of seven actually have a social circle independent of Mommies hovering.  They have best friends whom they will prefer over Grandma once they are sure said Grandma will not be lavishing any presents on G2 in their absence.

The key to getting a three year old settled is to drive every ounce of energy out of them in play time preferably outside in fresh air.  Of course the risk to the driverouter is permanent immobility, pain, exhaustion and a serious reconsideration of the whole mixing booze and drugs together argument for sustained relief.  Just a thought.

So yesterday, day three was pretty normal. More parks, lots more walking, tantrum prior to afternoon nap.  G1 spent both days at his best friends so really there was just me, the five month old yellow lab of sonic strength and G2.  

The only thing of note from yesterday was that as our little troupe marched along the street..or staggered depending on the antics of the Gdog, is that someone in misstep passed gas.  Now G1 says, “Who farted?” I can see him processing some vital facts here.  He knows he did not do it and although the dog is famous for it, he’s pretty sure Gdog did not do it.  To help him with the struggle of his thoughts I thought I would fess up.  He seriously considers this for a few seconds and I swear I could hear the wheels grinding.   Finally the power of GRANNY comes forth.  It would be impossible for Granny to do this.  In a soft voice he says, “No I’m pretty sure it was the dog.”

By last night I was worn and while happy, exhaustion had me feeling lower than a snake’s belly on a hot rock.  A happy tiredness and really I am sure I no longer have pain.  I am convinced this is a true sense of well being – I just didn’t recognize it.  I think my body had developed some kind amnesia about well being but I think this is it.

Today I was ready to put what I knew into action.  The troupe walked G1 to his best friends house and I in all my wiliness headed straight for the park.  This child is going to get so much exercise, so much fresh air he will be begging to take a nap. So I pushed swings, chased him up and down the play structures.  Even walking him home It crossed my mind that Gdog was behaving pretty good.

Once we get home to the yard I could see a spot of energy left so pulled out all the cars and scooters out of the storage shed and I pushed him and chased him til his giggles started to peter out.

The plan is working,  Now I just have to deftly get lunch into him and wheedle him into his bed.  Wow it worked ..just a few extra cuddles. and he looked ready to sleep.  For a moment he started to move like he was going to sit up until I convinced him he was a puppy.  So he assumed the puppy position and was gone. Yeah!

Settling on the sofa I thought I might see what is on day time TV.  But I could not find the remote.  After a ridiculous amount of time searching and turning lazy boys on their sides, scouring floors and toy boxes I gave up and embraced the silence.  The hum of pain..I mean well being through my entire body convinced me that a nap might be in order.  However that wasn’t going to happen.  An hour after the appointed time I remembered I had not fed Gdog.  Hauling myself off the sofa I completed that task. Convinced a nap was really now in order I stretched out for some R&R.

Within minutes of ingesting his gourmet dog food the pup started whining.  So once again I rise.  Hmmmm she seemed to have some difficulty going so when I stomp across the muddy yard to check on -the results – I see a watery product rather than the scoopable kind.
I make mental note to let my DIL know.

Then two hours later a whole bunch of things happen at the same time.  G2 wakes, my DIL is there and the sonic dog has to go out.  This time there are spots across the concrete patio of Gdogs ailment. The well rested G2 is tearing around through mud and other things in full energy mode.  I try washing away the ailment evidence with a bucket with no luck.  DIL tries to get the hose working and gets some detergent and a brush for scrubbing. She is lathering soap in the appropriate spots and scrubbing with a brush.  I have the hose which is leaking everywhere except the spout and two critters who are trying to catch the water.  Gdog in her excitement has jumped upon the child and me and pretty soon all three of us are soaked and covered in mud.  DIL grabs the dog, I grab the child and whip him inside into a running tub of water.  I change into clean clothes..which are my pajamas.  Don’t ask.  I dress the child in his pajamas.  

Not bad work for four in the afternoon!

Twice in a Lifetime..not….

Twice in a Lifetime….not

I find myself pondering a question that at first thought seemed easy to answer.  Many years ago there was a Canadian TV show called Twice in a Lifetime.  There was a male angel, cute as a button, who would be present at the time of death.  The deceased always had some deficiency that put their soul in jeopardy and thanks to the angel, they would then get an opportunity to go back to one point in their life to change the outcome. Invariably the deceased would conquer and the end showed them in fact restored to life – as if they had stayed on a true and proper path.

In the last few years I periodically have asked people what point in their lives they would return to – to change something if given a chance.  One friend who had experienced the worst kind of abuse as a young child said she would never have answered the door that day when a knock came.    She didn’t hesitate for even a second.  We have been friends for years and I always forget that decades later she still lives with that.

Most people don’t have such painful turning points but most can think of some point where they took a left when they should have turned right. Maybe a failed exam, or turning point or turning down a particular appointment or date.

I don’t find myself as lucky.  Every time I think of a possible trigger changing event my mind considers all the fallout effects about other good things that followed in spite of my errors in judgement.

There is no one point where I would change the course of my life. Instead there are multiple truths I ignored at one time or another that I would like to go back and embrace when I did not:

Do unto others….
Save ten percent..
Onto thine own self…
Be quiet and listen…
Be the kind of friend…
Honor thy….

There may not be a true Twice in a Lifetime and  thank God for that..instead each day is new and when we open our eyes we have a chance to do it better than the day before…or the year before..or…
For some of us it is baby steps cause just when I think I have conquered a mountain, I realize my biggest sin is congratulating myself for being so darn good..and I lose humility.  If I am not humble I am not seeing the scope of my own frailty, or the scope of God’s Greatness.

Nuts..then it is like…back to the beginning…sigh.

Do you have one pivotal point where you would have changed your course of action?

Granny Nanny Day Two

Granny Nanny Day Two

Ro Ro They’re Not for Holding On to..

Woke up this morning feeling pretty good in spite of the excessive energy spent yesterday.  Today the plan is to take G1 age seven and G2 age three to my home about an hour away.

Before leaving G1 says everyone should pee before going away…and he does.  I make sure bathing suits, towels and combs are packed.  

We are about fifteen minutes from first destination, which is the golden arches, when G1 says he cannot wait another minute..he has To Go!  I pull over at a historical site and he leaps from the car and discreetly relieves himself directly in front of the car where no one can see him.  

It seems most children these days are growing up obsessed with cleanliness.  He tells me they started Health Classes in kindergarten and since then you touch nothing without washing your hands.  G1 takes every thing he learns very seriously and I am so trying to gently instill the idea that there are good germs and bad and the bad sometimes make us stronger.  You know a touch of the old live and let live philosophy at the microbial level.  Man has lived in a delicate balance with bacteria for eons and we are …..oh boy better save that lecture for another time…. Any way in the car he asked for hand sanitizer..yup exact word.  Hearing that I have none in the car he proceeded to put his arms and hands in the typical surgical sterile post scrub, pre glove position until I could deliver him to a proper sink and water.  This included my holding the car door open for him on exit and the men’s room door in entry.

He is seven now but just a few years ago he had the three year old daughter of visiting friends in tears after he noted she did not wash her hands post potty and he solemnly delivered the news to her that she was going to die.  Not sure they ever came back or if that child is out of therapy.

Hygiene complete we try lunch at a fav kiddies play land. Been a long time since I looked after children so I was not prepared for the hoards, the noise, yelling, screaming…having forgotten this was March break and it applied to everyone else’s children as well as mine. To fit in well G2 throws a great tantrum which I smiled at and ignored as much as possible.

Next it was a relatively quick stop at a toy store to equalize a sonic situation and then off to my apartment!

Before leaving home earlier I packed two swims suits for G2 from his stash. When it came time to change into our suits I discovered both suits were a little on the large size.  Pulled them up.  They fell down!
I asked his brother for suggestions.  Pins.  Not sewing pins.  Safety pins.  None of which I could find.  So necessity being and all that I spied a large black paper clip -you know the kind that hold dozens and dozens of papers – and basically gave him a stylish rear clip.  It worked!

Now G1 is at an age where he is very modest.  Privacy and body parts are a big thing to him.  The boys love to leap wildly into the pool and I scoop them up, one in each arm and make huge circles in the water swishing them back and forth amidst wild giggles.  G2 needs to cling and G1 in his laughter yells, “Grandma, Grandma, he is holding onto your chest. ”

We continue laughing and twirling when G1 shouts at his brother,  “Ro Ro,” (nickname), “let go Ro Ro, they’re not for holding on to!”

Finally time to rinse off, dry off and head off for the trip home.
I am sure the all over ache is muscle definition beginnings!

Granny Nanny Day One

The Granny Nanny Experiment Day One

This is a different situation for me!  My son and daughter in law live in a city about an hour from my home.  DIL has been fortunate to stay home with home with the boys except for a few weeks a year, here and there when she does vacation relief at her old clinic.  This is one of those weeks and for the first time ever I have come to stay and take care of the boys. And the dog.  And two cats.  Oh and my two budgies Max and Ruby.

The first thing before eight a.m. today was a trip to the drugstore for Reactine. I never think of myself as having allergies but I require it once or twice a week..and staying in the animal house I need it daily.
I always carry it..in my purse, in my wallet.  So yesterday I pack up for the week taking everything including the birds just to discover I am Reactine lacking.  I searched through every bag and suitcase last night convinced I could remember packing it.

This is hardly the end of the day being only six forty-five pm but I am done in.  Exhausted. Mincemeat. One big ache..perhaps all the aches in the universe packed together.  I think my hair hurts.

Early, right after breakfast we were on our way to the local park. Grandson 2 who just turned three, insisted he had to bring his basket containing Sonics.  I was fine with this but it turns out G2 can only carry his basket in his right hand.  Grandson 1 who is seven gamboled and jumped and ran as we progressed down the street. There is nothing nicer than a three year old holding your hand as you walk along.

The complicating factor was the dog.  Bree is a five month old yellow lab.  Beautiful dog but a powerful beast.  Because my right hand was otherwise occupied it meant holding the leash and a baggy thing in my left hand.  This was good for about fifty feet.  Cramping in my hand, constant pup pulling and I knew I would have to change hands.  This did not go over well with G2. 

The park is about half a mile away.  The sun was shining and no winter wind.  We took our time.  It was a perfect day for slides, climbing and swings.  On arrival I secured the monster pup beast to a cement pillar.  I did not judge distance well and as I turned to check on the kids, the dog tripped me.  Falling is a strange sensation.  It really does feel like slow motion.  I had all the time in the world to think as I fell.  I thought curses or something similar.  I thought of my cell phone left back home in my purse. I thought of fractured hips.  And then I still had time for more curses.

Skinned palms, and one skinned knee and I knew I would live.  Thereafter it was pushing swings, playing hopscotch and lots of running.  The walk home was relatively uneventful because I think all of us were a little played out.  After lunch G1 and I headed to the yard.  Scooters, more jumping, more running.

By five o’clock everything was beginning to seize up – big time but I still put in another half mile to walk one of the boys’ friend home.

Exhaustion reigns……Meantime I wanted to jot down at least a few words although I have no idea if they make any sense. Oh yes and a few minutes ago one of the two huge white cats attacked my bird cage knocking them to the floor.

Well tomorrow is another day.  Planning swimming, jumping and running.  Falling is not on the agenda!

If you had all the time in the world..

If you had all the time in the world..

I lived such a demanding busy life – once upon a time.  Not that long ago really.  And I prayed for the day when my life would become mine again.  I dreamed of waking up in the morning, stretching, giving thanks then leaping from my bed energized, joyful and ready to take on the world.

I was going to saunter, wander, ponder, think great wise thoughts, write from morn to night and swim in my own brilliance.  Imagine..no stress..no pressure..no deadlines.  My idea of heaven on earth.  For decades I bravely packed away my ideas to raise a family, help heal the sick and stamp out disease, sit on committees, take courses..oh my!

Then a few weeks ago my dream came true.  Talk about boundless joy!  So I read, studied, started a blog, meditated, and now I am at a jumping off place.  I just don’t know to what. I am stymied.  Now the little thought haunts me – you were never a writer but now you have no excuse to shroud that.  Yikes!

Fact is I need to get a job.  Not high profile high stress like my career but something pleasant. Fun.  Something with a Westjet mentality. I believe work should be fun.  I want to bring joy and comfort to others.  Probably part of my nurse persona or maybe it is that persona that made me a nurse. And I still feel like there is something more to contribute to society.

Am I hiding from my dream?  Maybe.  But this week I will face the dragon and write something.  

Earthquakes..Tsunamis.

 

I have spent the morning watching the news. The world is a small place and most of us know someone; family, friends, business associates in the affected areas.  Hawaii where friends are stranded and inconvenienced.  Japan where dear friends of friends live and travel.  People talk about the world ending.  But the end of the world is such an individual thing.  For hundreds perhaps thousands today, this part of what we call life, their world has ended…on this plane.

My nephew and his wife were in Thailand when that Tsunami hit.  Fortunately they were hiking in the mountains in the north that day, cut off by all communication and completely unaware of the drama unfolding only miles away.

Loss of life by nature is just as tragic as by political battles and brutality.  Maybe more so since it is innocent.

It gives us pause to remember the power of prayer.  You do not have to be religious to pray. You just have to understand we are all connected.  All part of one huge organism and when parts of that organism suffer our souls need to connect through at least a moment’s thought.  That is prayer.

There are no facts, only interpretations. – Friedrich Nietzsche. The truth I think that validates everything you have to say.

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