Mindbump

suggested by Gothic Home

“Describe your very first cemetery experience.”

I love a prompt that I don’t have to think too hard about. This story bubbled up right away.

When I was about 6 or 7, my grandfather would mow the grass and clip around the headstones at Briggs Street Cemetery in our little town of Westville, NY. Grandpa would often take me with him, and I would clip while he mowed.  It was fun reading the names and dates on the stones as I clipped, and would ask Grandpa questions when I came across a stone with the surname McGibbon on it, which was Grandpa’s last name.

As I was trimming around a pretty double stone one day, I looked up to read the names and dates and was stunned to read my grandparents first names.

Horrified, I burst into tears and ran to my grandfather, begging him to tell me who was buried under that double stone.  He explained that lots of people pay for their service, burial plots and headstone before they are needed, in order to save the people left behind further upset.  He took me back over and showed me how the stone just had their birth dates carved into the stone.  He chuckled and told me that, yes, that stone belonged to him and Nanny, but that no, they wouldn’t be using it any time soon.

It turned out that he was right; Grandpa didn’t need to use his stone for another ten years or so and Nanny five years longer than that.

I was very lucky that my first cemetery experience ended on such a happy note.

Friday Fill Ins #185

1. This is what life does. It lets you run your life, or your life will run you.

2. Does any body ever really appreciate the moment?

3. Upon reflection, my reflection needs some de-wrinkling.

4. I haven’t played Friday Fill-Ins for quite a long time.

5. Later, you wake up and wonder if it was all just a creepy dream.

6. Ride on, my love, to the far and boundless sea.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to packing my backpack, tomorrow my plans include driving to Acadia National Park and Sunday, I want to be checking out the 45 miles of carriage roads in the park on my bicycle.

Florida Trip — April 2010

I passed these trees every day on my morning walk and they reminded me of the images in the Verizon TV commercials, so that’s what I named them in my mind.

A protected burrowing owl nest site — also on my morning walk — the little guy (gal?) is just to the left of the sign, guarding the nest opening.  Click on the pic to make it bigger so you can see him.    I was surprised that he didn’t bat an eyelash at me taking his picture.  As they are a “species of special concern”, these burrowing owl nests are protected all over south west Florida.  Their numbers are down because of the encroachment of urban development on their nesting sites (they have a high nest site fidelity)

These owls have a tendency to stand on just one leg — I’m not sure if that’s what this little guy is doing, but every time I saw him he was on just one leg.  He was about 8 to 9″ tall.

Peek-a-boo!!  I tried to find out where the people that had these critters in their yard bought them so that I could get some for our pool area, but they were never home to ask!! They were just so darn cute!!  😦

Some more members of the peek-a-boo family.

This is what the beach at Sanibel Island looks like — not much sand, but TONS of shells.  We spent a good couple of hours picking through the shells, trying to find some unique ones.

Ed looking for shells — I wish we had had our swimsuits with us, the water was so nice and warm,  at least in comparison to New England!!!

Sunday Scribblings #224 — Source

I thought I was going to have to take a pass on this prompt; literally, there was nothing that came to mind at all when I thought of the word source. Or should I say, so many things came to mind, it was difficult to write about just one.

And then this morning, around 9AM, it all became crystal clear to me.

There was a guy waiting at the front door this morning when I drove in.  No car, just a bike.  After booting up the computers and passing out the doc’s schedules to their exam rooms, I unlocked the front door.

(Me) Good morning, Mr. Patience!!  C’mon in — what can I do for you? (I notice that although it’s early, alcohol fumes and B.O. are emanating from him)

(Walk in guy) Hey I can’t see. I need to see a doctor.

(Me) Have we seen you here before? When was your last eye exam?

(Walk in guy) Nope, never been here. Never had an eye exam either.

(Me) Okay then.  (I quickly check the schedules) Dr. S comes in at 9:00, if you would like to come back at 9:10 you could be seen by her. Would that be good for you?

(WIG) Yeah that’s okay. (He then turns to walk out the door.)

(Me) Wait, I need you to fill out some paperwork for me but before that I need some initial info for the computer to put your appointment into it so that no one else takes your appointment slot.

(I get his name, DOB, SS# etc and put it into the computer. It turns out, he’s a homeless guy, living at a shelter down the street and is on Medicaid and food stamps.  My nice bucket is still full so I feel kind of bad for him.)

(Me) Alright, here’s the paperwork — if you would like to have a seat, you can fill it out here and if we can put you in sooner than 9:10, we will.

(WIG) Nope, can’t read or write, so I’ll take it back to the shelter and have one of those people do it for me.

(Me) Fine, I’ll see you at 9:10

By now it’s 8:05 and the office is starting to rock with patients coming in for exams, eyeglass adjustments, eyeglass pickups, etc.

At 8:30, the guy walks back in with his paperwork and a bag of pills for me to write down the names and dosing instructions to add to his paperwork.  The bag smells like somebody has peed on it.  So does he. Since it’s 8:30 and my nice bucket is still full, I take it and pull out the bottles and write down the info for him.

I hand the bag back to him and tell him that’s it’s just 8:30 and we won’t be able to see him until 9:10. He says yeah that’s okay.

I then wash my hands and disinfect the desk.

Meanwhile, the other tech’s are calling patients in to start pre-lims for their exams. He apparently can see well enough to notice this.

At 8:55, he shows back up again at the window and demands to know why everybody else has been called and he’s still sitting and waiting. What kind of a ^^$%%#$#%&* place are we running here anyway!!!

I remind him again that his appointment isn’t until 9:10, that the doctor that he will be seeing doesn’t get in until 9:00 and that the other patients are seeing other doctors.

He tells me that I should do something impossible and vulgar to myself,  and then calls me  a couple of nasty and rude names, then slams out the door mumbling and swinging his arms.

I think he must have forgotten to take his medication before he came over to the office.

This, therefore, is just one source of my unending frustration in dealing with the public.

And there’s a hole in my bucket, with all the nice pouring out of it.

Do you have a story to tell about the topic “source”? If so, drop by Sunday Scribblings.

PhotoHunt #222 — Triangle

A very tall triangle — it is the iron lighthouse on Sanibel Island in Florida.  I think it’s still in operation.

Sunday Scribblings — #223 Video Prompt

I have been tossing this prompt around in my head since it was posted on Sunday Scribblings and I really feel that I’m no closer to choosing one amazing woman now than I was then.

So, to put a different spin on the prompt, I think I will chat about what I think makes a woman amazing.

Two of the gals that I work with are going to be participating in a triathlon this month. This is the second year that they are participating. They’re not hardcore athletes, but have encouraged each other and trained together and expect to have an amazing good time competing. And I admire that stick-to-it attitude that they both have.

Another woman I know has made a decision to not have children. She is happy with her husband and their life and doesn’t feel the need to add more people to the world. It makes me happy that when she talks of this decision, none of the other ladies that I work with question her about it. Women can be so amazing.

And there is still another lady that I work with that has a nasty case of rheumatoid arthritis.  It has progressed to the point that she can’t raise her arms above her shoulders. You will not hear any complaints about pain or her inability to do anything from her.  She keeps a positive attitude around her at all times.

There are also other ladies that I work with that have children, and husbands, and housework, and jobs, and manage to keep all of that in balance.  No small feat, to be sure.  As my friend says, you just have to do it because nobody else will do it for you.  A very down to earth way of looking at life from yet another amazing woman.

I think that anybody would be hard pressed to look at all of the women that they are acquainted with and not be able to see something amazing about them.  If you think there is nothing amazing about them, you’re just looking at the surface and not the real woman beneath.

I read once where somebody was saying what a fabulous dancer Fred Astaire was.  Absolutely, he was wonderful to watch.  But then it was pointed out that Ginger Rogers was every bit as good a dancer as Fred Astaire, and she had to do everything backwards, in heels and an evening gown.  Now that’s amazing!!

Write a few words about an amazing woman you know and leave your link at Sunday Scribblings.

I hate surprises…….

I finished these two potholders last night.   Aren’t they just cute as can be?  Okay, now REALLY look at them — doesn’t the salmon color in one look just a tad more pink than the other one?  Yeah, that’s what I thought too!!  Even funnier tho — I’ve been crocheting them at night — yes, when it’s dark and watching TV — and I just didn’t notice the color until I took the picture and started tweaking it in my Irfanview software.  THEN I saw the difference.  Sure enough, I checked the yarn bands and they’re two different dye lots.  Oh well — I was going to send them to my sister but I can guarantee you that if I do, she’ll notice the difference before you can whistle Dixie.

Anyway, the pattern is one that I found online on a blog written by a lady by the name of Eva in Norway and I just fell in love with it, so much so that I didn’t notice the dye lots didn’t match!!  Mine don’t look quite as finished as Eva’s, but they were great for a first try and I’ll be making more. The yarn that I used was the old faithful Sugar N Cream color Butter Cream Ombre.

If you’d like to take a look at the pattern, here is the address for Topflappen, which I believe is potholder in Norwegian. Thanks for such a great pattern, Eva!!!

Sunday Scribblings — #222 — Me

I was just looking at the last post that I created on this blog. March 23, 2009. Yup, that’s me. I throw myself wholeheartedly into something that will absolutely consume me until I’m burned out. I guess March 23, 2009 was my burnout date for blogging. For awhile.

My obsession after blogging was/is Facebook. Yes, I am definitely the obsessive sort, and have been farming/cooking/building my little heart out since March 24, 2009. I’m still on Facebook, but feeling like it’s running me instead of me running it. It’s time to move on or back, I can’t decide which it will be. But I can feel the burn coming.  Deleting my Facebook account is just a matter of time.

But obsessive is only part of me.  I can be kind (just not as often as I should) and as I age, I’m getting to be more tolerant of silly behavior.  Maybe tolerant isn’t the right word.  Let’s use the term uninterested and able to turn away.

I’m soft-hearted when it comes to Sweet Baboo and the grandbabies and all of our kids.

I still can’t tolerate stupidity, at least not stupidity that comes from the wrong choices. Asking me to feel sorry for somebody because they chose unwisely (grasshopper)  is more than I can take.

I’m a crafter, loving to create all things sewing, knitting, and crocheting.  Thankfully,  I’m not the perfectionist that I once was.  Living a quiet life as we do, it seems a shame to work yourself up into a lather about something so insignificant.

It’s funny that I can forecast that I will delete my FB account but it never occurred to me that I could delete my blog.

Maybe I’m not as obsessive as I think I am.  Maybe I just need a bit of distraction now and then.

I think it’s time to stop all the clicking nonsense on FB and get back to writing.

So that’s me — an obsessive, kind, tolerant, soft-hearted, non-perfectionist crafter that can’t handle ridiculous behavior and is tired of clicking on Facebook.  Oh yeah, and I like to write.

If you have a “me” story to tell, drop by Sunday Scribblings.