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The BOMB

Welcome to the BOMB.



The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

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My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my ten year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Small Actions Can Make A Huge Impact On Others.

Walking back from a late lunch today a girl looked at me sideways as she passed by. She said hello and I returned the greeting. We walked on and she slowed her pace to mine. I could tell she was going to initiate a conversation. I really wasn't in the mood, so steeled myself.

And forced myself to be nice.

She said, "You probably don't remember me, but I worked in Food Service about 8 years ago. I've been working in a different department for the last five years and I'm about to open my own business."

I congratulated her  and admitted that while she was familiar, I couldn't recall her name. But I also reminded her that I change people's names all the time. She laughed because she knew first hand that was a true statement.

She went on to say she was going around the hospital seeing people that had made a difference in her life--and she had been on all the wards starting with the 6th floor and going down to the first because she couldn't remember where this one girl worked. She had finally given up and just started roaming around. We were in the Basement, so I joked she really had been roaming.

Then she told me I was the girl!

I laughed and told her if she had gone to my office she would have thought I was no longer working for the VA because I was now in the Swamp Room (several people--mostly former residents, a couple of housekeepers, and some ancillary staff--have said they thought I had quit because all my stuff was gone).

I've been grieving the loss of that office because it was a much better office--people used to stop by all the time--in fact, so frequently I used to complaining couldn't get all my documentation fine. I've only had two visitors in the Swamp--and as time consuming as all the previous visitors were--I really miss them. One MD that gets a lot of consults from my floor used to come by 2-3 times a week--even when he didn't have a consult. And when he brought new employees with him, he would joke and say I was his morning pitt stop. I especially miss his stories about the trips he and his wife were taking.

Anyway, this girl reminded me that when she first started working at the VA she saw me in my office and came in to talk with me--and it clicked--she was the girl that would come and cry because her heart was broken over the Veteran she had just talked with. That actually happened many times--she is very tender-hearted. And every time, she would come talk about it with me. We would talk, and cry, and I would encourage her. I should have offered to pray with her. But I didn't. Once or twice, when she was especially upset, I prayed for her AFTER she left. But I failed to pray WITH her.

Just think how much MORE encouraged she could have been if I had told her I was praying for her--or if I had actually prayed WITH her! Those were lost opportunities to bless her even more.

Our conversation today reminds me of several things:

1). I should lift others up more often--both in private, and WITH them present.

2). My actions--even the small ones--have lasting effects.

3). I need to look up people who have influenced and encouraged ME,  and tell THEM!

I have been very blessed. At every stage of my life, people have reminded me of something I did (that was pretty insignificant to me), that turned out to be a blessing to them. It was usually something really simple--like when I listened or encouraged or helped them with some small (to me) problem.

And one other thing--even though it's harder to find me in the swamp--I can still be found.

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