Z is for Zebra: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

Eliana is the fiercest zebra I know.  To be honest, she's also the only zebra I know. They are fairly rare.

April 30th is the last day of the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018. It's also the last day of Primary Immunodeficiency Awarness Month. Todays blog post is written in honor of Eliana.

Primary Immunodeficiency Disease (PIDD) is a group of over 300 diseases where the immune system is defective. Our immune system is our main defense against infections.  When it it doesn't work properly, simple infections can be devastating, and sometimes even fatal.

The Immune Deficiency Foundation (IDF) website  indicates there are approximately 250,000 people diagnosed with PI in the USA.  Thousands more are undiagnosed.  Diagnosis usually occurs after recurrent infections fail to respond to conventional antibiotic treatments.

Once diagnosed, treatment is targeted toward the specific deficiency and can include preventive antibiotics,  Gene or Stem Cell Therapy, Bone Marrow Transplants, or Intravenous Immunoglobulin (IVIG) Infusion Therapy.

Eliana is treated with IVIG. Like my monthly iron infusions, IVIG takes three (3) hours administration time. I'm a middle-agged woman who tolerates my IV Iron.  Eliana also tolerates her IVIG treatments.  The difference is she is not yet three (3) years old.

What does all of this have to do with zebras?

The IDF adopted the zebra print as their awareness ribbon.  So today, in addition to writing the final post for the  A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018, I'm also sporting a little zebra print. 

Both actions are meant to honor Zebras everywhere ...especially Eliana.

#ThinkZebra #PIawareness #A2ZBloggingChallenge2018

Y is for Yes: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

From the cradle to the grave, yes is one of the words we long to hear.

Yes, when used correctly, can be both  a powerful and empowering word. The yeses we hear from others can influence us from outside ourselves. Unfortunately, those yeses  depend on others, and they can be used to manipulate.  The good news is, the  yeses we tell ourselves can be even more powerful, because we are in control of the influence.  Our internal yeses can become empowering.

Yeses, whether external or internal, when used for good, can grow in us the confidence to dream bigger dreams, act more fearlessly, and achieve higher goals.  Sometimes even previously believed "impossible" goals.

Yes is almost as powerful and empowering as love--almost--but not quite. Because as powerful as it is, yes has limits.

Sometimes yes is mistaken for love. If you love me you'll agree with me...you'll give me what I desire...you'll ...(whatever).  That isn't love. That's manipulation.  Love does the heavy lifting, the hard work. Love disciplines and says, "No," when required. Even when saying no is hard, and the easy way out is to give in by saying yes.

Sometimes yes is erroneously entwined in our self-worth. If I get the job...the contract...the loan...the person...the (whatever),  then I'm a pretty good person ...writer...artist...singer... athlete...student...spouse...(whatever).  But conditions are not, and should not be, the true litmus test for our self-worth.

From the cradle to the grave our yeses can be both powerful and empowering.  It's vital that we are responsible and use our external and internal yeses for good.

X is for Xyst: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

Honestly, I had to check out X-words. I'm on vacation from anything medical this week and I don't play any instruments, so that exhausted my x-ray and xylophone words, leaving the only other X-word I'm familiar with:  xi.

I play xi in Words With Friends anytime I can.  Especially when it lines up with extra word count.  Other than it's a Greek letter I haven't got a clue what it is, so writting a blog post about it is out.

Xyst on the other hand has more word count in WWF.  Besides it has a couple definitions and is a word I can easily pronounce--when I remember the correct pronunciation.

Reading xyst I initially pronounce it zeye-st. Every time. And every time I'm wrong.

It's actually pronounced zist (rhymes with list). Easy-peasy.

According to Collins English Dictionary, a xyst is a long portico.  I already knew a portico was a porch with support columns. But the next part of the definition was news to me--the xyst were used in ancient Greece for athletic events.  No wonder I hadn't a clue--I adamantly avoid anything remotely associated with making me sweat...err...glow.

The good news is, Collins reports a second meaning for xyst (rhymes with list--my reminder to myself).  This definition is much more acceptable to my inner  Southern Belle.  It seems  in ancient Rome, a xyst (rhymes with list) was a covered garden walk--or at least one lined with trees.

Of course, in the south,  tree-lined pathways, gardens, and even streets are in fact covered--especially when the trees are spaced close enough to grow together and form a living canopy. Think of the scene from Forrest Gump, where he's running down that long tree-lined driveway.

So there you have it--xyst, rhymes with list, is a long covered path, which has the capacity for upping your Scrable or Words With Friends word count.  All without making you sweat...errr...glow.

W is for Wandering: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

W.

Wonderfully witty writting words, watching...waiting...waiting...waiting...

Waiting was never my forte.  So I'll write without waiting. 

I'm at use or lose on my leave carryover at work, so I'm on vacation today. It was a random week I chose last October.

VA likes us to declare our leave time for the upcoming year during October of the previous year.  The activities I wanted to attend either had not announced their 2018 dates, or the weeks announced were already taken when I approached the Leave Calender.  So I claimed a couple random weeks.  When my Supervisor reminded me of this week I looked online to see what type of activities were going on and I found a 4-day conference that was perfect.

Well, almost perfect.  It was cost prohibitive. So I contacted Education to see if they had money in the budget for an awesome conference.   I told them about it's perfectness--every session offered is exactly what we discuss in Bed Huddle with the Chief of Staff and Director every morning, and the breakout sessions all delt with innovative solutions to the problems we face on the Ward, as well as during our daily Interdisciplanary Team Meetings. It would have greatly  benefited the VA for me to attend.

Education said I missed the request deadline and denied my request. It's perfectness didn't count to them.

It's so perfect, I considered paying for the confrence  and travel expenses out of my IRS refund, savings, and travel points, and using my vacation time to attend.

And then I thought again. 

Honestly, I've had a couple really hard weeks of only 2-3 people to cover both Temple and Waco campuses. This is on top of the almost 3 years we've been severely short-staffed. So, I decided to be selfish and keep my vacation just for me.

Next year, I'll apply for the conference early.  Of course it will be somewhere not in Texas, and the same topics won't be broached; therefore, unless the topics mirror next year's problems and concerns, it won't be as perfect. What it will be is expensive.  More so than this year, since it likely will be much farther away. Therefore, I will allow  VA to pay for the confrence, my flight, daily expenses, and keep me in pay status. They lost out on their chance to get it on the cheap this year.   Deadlines be d.... Okay, I've indulged myself long enough with the whining (a not so great W-word).

So this week I've been wasting time (awsesome vaycay W-word).  Wasting time is really a misnomer though, I've been quite productive:  I've engaged in house work, the laundry mountain,  caught up with the A to Z Blogging Challenge, bought a couple pair of jeans (on sale, with coupons, and smaller than I usually wear--woohoo!--a wonderful W-word), and spent time with the FurBoys--basically, I've done anything I felt like doing.  When I felt like doing it.  I've made no committments to anyone except The Boys. And I participated in my all-time favorite time-wasting activity today. 

Bandit and I went wandering. 

I love to wander--get in the car and drive aimlessly. The best wandering occurs spur-of-the moment. Up until I actually left, I was going to go by myself. But at the last minute I invited Bandit for a r•i•d•e. He jumped at the chance.  He loves rides. He also loves to have me to himself without The Cat.  Win-win. (Fabulous double W-word).

During one of our stops, I saw a sign that read, Whatever you do, do it with all your heart.  That's a committment I can get behind.

Along our travel route we passed the Big Ass Winery. Although they were referring to their donkey, I LOL a few miles down the road when I ran across Jung Street. I think Carl could have a heyday with the signs of central Texas.

Retirement is still quite a few years away.  I'm not exactly sure where I will be or what I'll be doing, but if I can incorporate wandering, I'll be a Happy Camper (another sign I saw during our wander today). 

I look forward to wasting more time as I wonder where and when I'll next wander.

V is for View: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

The plan:  Drive Devils Backbone, snap a few photos, and write a post about vacation views. I should have looked at the map and checked the weather.

Oh well.  On to Plan B.

I'll still blog about view.  But with a slightly different connotation...

One of my docs once told me an anecdote about 100 blind people being led to an elephant and being asked to describe it.

One described a long tube with a wet end. Another was tickled by a feather at the end of a rope. Another felt the wind from a fan

The descriptions continued one after another. No two descriptions were exactly the same.

Which one was correct?

They all were.

The wet tube was the nose after being dipped into water. The rope and feather was the tail. The moving air  was caused by the flapping of ears. And so on.

The story points to the fact that our experience, knowledge base, and point of view colors our perception. As we experience different things, learn more, and change our points of view our perceptions may also change.

What doesn't change is the elephant.

Truth is like the elephant. Our perception of Truth may be colored by our experience, knowledge base, or point of view; however, although we may change, the Truth remains unchanged.

U is for Undecided: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

I am undecided about today's  topic.

Being in a refective mood, I considered writing about umbrellas and the protection they provide,  and maybe correlating that to the protection that families or God provide. However,  I recently wrote about umbrellas.

Next, I considered comparing and contrasting our unity and uniqueness.  But it started sounding "preachy."

Then I read an article that depressed me. Rather than consider how to combat the problem, I daydreamed about unplugging, going off grid, and living my life away from the invading sickness. But that is avoidance behavior.

So I remain undecided about my U-word. Then I decided that could be my U-word:  Undecided.

I am by nature a gatherer of information.  Usually the information I collect is trivial and only useful in specific situations. For instance, a British boy born aboard a ship is known as a Son of a Gun. The only time I have ever needed to know this was during a game of Trivial Pursuit: Classic Edition. 

Being a gatherer of information, I find the planning of trips and activities almost as much fun as the actual event. Almost.

The downside of gathering information is deciding when enough information has been gathered. Continually gathering information can lead to procrastination, which can be seen as a form of perfectionism.

Which is where I am today--for sure not perfect; however, mired in procrastination and indecision. Not only am I undecided about my topic, I am undecided about my activity after I finish this post.

Luckily tomorrow is an easy letter for which to come up with post ideas....V is for victory.  Or veteran. Or vacation. Or vacillation. Or....

T is for Tresses: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

I've never been a big fan of people touching my hair. No good has ever come from it. 

In Elementry School, Mama immortalized me in a boufont that attracted bees, and crooked bangs that grew shorter and more crooked with every trim thanks to an uncooperative cowlick. 

By the time I was a 7th grader in Junior High, Farrah Faucet and her multilayered flowing shag were popular.  I  allowed Cindys beautician Mom to cut my hair. She must not have watched "Charlies Angels" because my shag consisted of two layers. Two. It's hard to shag or flow with only two layers.

In 9th grade I overheard one of my friends talking about going to the local beauty school. She always had great hair, so off to the beauty school I went.  I lucked out and got a Senior cutting for her final exam. The wedge sported by Ice Skater Dorothy Hamill was all the rage, and although it was much shorter than I was comforrable with,  I allowed her to cut my hair in a wedge.  Her evaluater was a  helicopter examiner that hovered and made us all nervous. When she finally finished, my hair looked awesome; however, it had taken all afternoon. We were frazzled.

Later, when Karen commented on how good my hair looked, and I told her where I went, she gasped. She never actually had her hair done at the beauty school--She had just considered it. I realized I had dodged a bullet on that one.

Over the years my blonde hair darkened and became more dishwatery. The summer before my Senior year in High School, my best friend and I decided we would be blonde again and we died our hair. Ourselves. We were stunning. At least at first.

I envisioned my senior portrait as an angel  with flowing blonde lockes. At least that was the plan:  I would wear a black v-necked drape in front of a black velvet backdrop. The contrast would produce a lovely glowing aura.

My Senior Portait has a contrast alright, but brass is slightly less than angelic. I swore off hair color for life. But it could have been worse...

Besty, was back to her natural hair color for Senior Portrait Day, but only after an unfortunate chlorine pool incident turned her hair green, necessitating a trip to the beauty salon for a professional hair color do-over. 

BIG hair rolled around and found me rolling my hair for home perms during the eighties. I'd had tried two, maybe three perms at beauty salons previously, but always ended up looking like a poodle. I remembered Mama giving herself home perms, so I decided I would do it myself. I used slightly larger rods, left the solution on a few minutes less than recommended, and my home perms actually looked less poodlish than the professional ones for which I had paid big bucks.

One of my crowing achievements during Nursing School was learning to French Braid my hair.  During the nineties my tight French Braids and buns loosened up and worked themselves into messy buns and simple pony tails.  When my nursing focus became less bedside clinical, the pony tails became simple headbands.

In my 40s readers replaced the headbands. The grey I had been ignoring was no longer easily hidden. During a last minute unplanned vacation, I walked into an Ulta store for a spur of the moment hair cut that ended up sending me back down the hair color isle.

The cut ended up being a longer version of a bowl cut. She didn't have time for color but we discussed my long ago summer experience. She recommended I stay away from warmer colors--especially ash tones.  She also suggested I combine several colors to pick up high and low lights. I chose a dark, non-ashy blonde, added 1/3-1/4 light brown, and a touch of pale auburn.  It turned out to be my favorite combintion, and for over a decade that's what I did.

In my fifties I decided to cut my hair shorter. I tried a couple bargan places but the stylist turnover was high and I rarely saw the same person. I even watched you tube videos  and tried cutting my hair myself. I revisited ponytails until the cut lines were less obviousit done by a non-professional.

For a year or so I followed the  stylist of a  friend.  When I say followed, I mean actually followed her from one salon to another. I eventually changed to another stylist, but she dropped her newest clients  when she became the manager.  So I was stylist shopping again.

A couple years ago I exited my  credit union and saw one of those "winner of best..." signs hanging over the door of the posh boutique across the way.  On a whim I stopped in and met my favorite stylist.

Tawnie listened. She remembered. She cut beautifully. But she was pricey, so I continued my home color until I decided to go natural. To make the skunk-root transition less stinky, I decided to just do very blonde highlights using a cap and crochet hook.  My highlights looked awesome.

After seeing Tawnie a few times, I told her I wanted to go shorter. Knowing my aversion to short hair we eased into short hair over several sessions. Each cut received raves. The second to last time I saw her when she asked "What are we doing today?"

I asked for a recommendation.

She said, "Your hair would look nice stacked."  

On a whim I said, "Let's go for it."

We decided to ease into the stacks. She did such a great job, total strangers commented on my hair. I told everyone to go see Tawnie.

Then she moved. Out of state. Not even a neighboring state, so there would be no chance of hair-do road trips.  I asked for a stylist recommendation...

I've had my first cut with Kayla, and Tawnie was right--she's great. We are gradually going shorter with my stacked bob.  So far I'm loving the look and ease of styling.

My hair and I have come a long way over the decades. I've become more trusting and actually enjoy trips to the salon. As I've grown more trusting I've also started considering being a tad bit more daring.

In fact, I haven't told Kayla yet, but I'm toying with adding some peek-a-boo color.

The bright multicolor rainbow I really want to do might be a bit much, but don't be surprised to see me with purple peek-a-boo hair this football season.

Go Cru!

S is for Saturday: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

Saturday.  My only day to sleep late. And usually the day I wake up early without any of my seven (yes, seven--don't judge) alarms.

I had big plans for today: housework, yard work, wash and gas up the SUV, shopping (a couple coupons are expiring),  and a chickflick with a couple friends.

I saw the movie, drove the SUV through the car wash, and partially filled it up.  Only partially because the temperature dropped to downright cold  and the  wind picked up and almost knocked me over.

The rest of the to do list remains. Sounds like my Sunday will be busy.

R is for Rainy Days: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

Rainy days. It's Saturday and I'm supposed to be blogging S. I'm behind. No shocker there.

Back on task:  It's a rainy day. I am reminded of the Carpenters hit, "Rainy Days and Mondays, Always Get Me Down."  I loved that song.  But it does not reflect my thoughts about rainy days, Mondays, or life in general.

I love rainy days. Mondays?  Not so much.  But rainy days are great days for recharging. Rebooting. Replenishing. Recovering. Snuggling with The Boys. Sorry. I couldn't come up with another R-word appropriate to them.

Oh wait--Relaxing with The Boys. That's what I'm doing today.

And catching up. On to the letter "S."

The Q-word: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

I'm not superstitious about black cats crossing my path, walking under ladders, the relationship of broken mirrors or open umbrellas and luck, or even most other things....I  even like Friday the 13ths--most of the time.

However, I do have a healthy respect  for full moons and the Q-word.

Psych Wards, Emergency Rooms, and Labor and Delivery all see a rise in activity during the full moon. It has something to do with  the gravitational pull of the moon or tidal waves, or something scientific.

Saying the Q-word has a similar effect, only it has no  scientific basis, and it's not limited by dates, time, or  the aforementioned hospital areas.

I have never said, or heard someone say, the Q-word without also watching plans falter, stable patients crash, and every piece of technology either go bonkers, or worse--freezing--incapacitating everyone and everything relying on it.

I have been known to scold educate total strangers who use the Q-word in my presence, on my Ward. The scoffers soon learn. Sometimes they learn right away. For others, it takes a few times uttering the Q-word and reaping the consequences of  really bad days, before they learn the connection.

But eventually they learn.

I think the Q-word phenomena is isolated to the hospital.  I hope it is.  Listening to a local Traffic Report I've frozen in my tracks and actually shuddered and winced when the Q-word was used to describe the morning commutes on Highway 190 and Interstate 35. Both highways are problematic on good days. It's so bad, TexDOT, in the guise of I-35, has taken out billboards telling us, "You're going to love me when I'm done."   I laughed outright and told the billboard to prove it to me.

That was several years ago. The construction congestion continues. And the new sections of roadway are already showing signs of wear and tear in need of repair.

It.will.never.end.

For instance, Highway 190 is almost always slowed by accidents--many of which are deadly.   And I-35, along with most of the surrounding streets, is in constant construction congestion, complicated by accidents, and flooding.

I really have to wonder at the intelligence behind performing all needed road work on all the major roads in the city at the same time--in addition to coinciding with the highway construction.

I avoid the highways and construction laden roads and take the long scenic route to work. I only have to contend with slowpokes, and two-lane no-passing zones.  If road construction begins on my route, or the Traffic Reporters start using the Q-word in conjunction with it, I may have to helicopter in to work.

No use tempting fate.

P is for Procrastination: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

P is for procrastination--which is why this post is late.

During my last round of catch-up writing. I had plenty of time to prepare an advance post or two.  I even had a couple ideas. I knew I should write them up because this year I'm writing more late posts than ever, due to working 3-4 hours overtime daily.

Wah, wah, wah.  Everyone has obstacles to overcome. So enough with the excuses.
Truth be told, I'm a procrastinator. Plain and simple. I make professional, work-related, and legal  deadlines. But personal deadlines? Maybe. Maybe not.

Some of it is tied to perfectionism. Some is lack of motivation. Some is laziness. And from time to time there might even be a touch of melancholy.

I think Oscar Wilde may have penned the Procrastinaors Credo when he said, "Why do today, what you can put off until tomorrow?"

I'm not quite that blatant. I usually have a reason to wait. Usually.

But sometimes the reason is pretty flimsy.

Did you know there is a "National" Procrastination Week? It's celebrated sometime during the first two weeks of March. Of course, late celebrations are honored--and maybe even encouraged. 

Not to be outdone by procrastinators, there is also a Fight Procrastination Day.  It's September 6th. It's supporters urge Procrastinators to claim and fight their procrastination problem. 

I saved that article. 

I'll read it later.

O is for Only: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

The A2Z Blog Team prompt word is only. They took the high road with only, as in there are only a few more days of the challenge left. 

I tend to not take the high road when it comes to only.  I view only as negatively as I view justa.

Yeah, I know justa is not a word. Just a is really a phrase or fragment, but I don't like just a because it usually is linked with an excuse for the inability to accomplish a task....I can't because I'm just a girl...I'm only a nurse..a kid...a mom. You probably have your own only or just a.

In this context there is no just a.  There is no only.  You are enough as you are. There is nothing justa or only anout you.

Stop making excusses. With determination, hard work, and time you can accomplish reasonable goals you set for yourself. 

Maybe the goal takes longer--that doesn't make it any less amazing or inspirational. It may even make it more so to the bystanders observing your progress. Especially the ones who know your struggles.

Just make sure to set SMART goals.  SMART goals are:

Specific.
Measurable.
Attainable.
Realistic.
Timebound.

For example, I'm going to lose weight, is a common goal; however, it is not SMART.

A SMART goal might be:
Before my High School Reunion July 15th, I will lose 15 pounds by drinking a protien shake for breakfast, eating a salad at lunch,  snacking on a small Apple and 1Table spoon of peanutbutter, eating no more than 3oz lean meat at dinner, and walking 2 miles each day. 

It has all the requirements.  It's also more restrictive than what I follow, which is why I likely will not make that particular weight loss goal.

This year.

Remember, you can attain realistic SMART goals. It's a process. A journey. The most avoidable stumbling block you face is the foot between your ears.

In fact, if you believe in yourself, apply yourself, and work hard you might even realize an impossible goal or two along the way.

N is for Neked Boy: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

Neked Boy.  The Bald One. The BaldOne Brother (play on the Baldwin Brothers).  BanditBoy.

These are all nicknames for my soon-to-be 13 year old Chinese Crested. I've had Bandit since he was 18 months old. He travels with me on all my vacations.

Every year we visit Friends in NOLA and have walked in the Barkus Parade many times. At least once a year we travel to Northwest Flordia for my High School Reunion Dinner  and Family visits. He's been to  NYC and Maine a couple times. And we've driven most of Route 66 and coastal Hwy 1 up to Oregon.

We don't just travel.  He's also attended Bark in Park and cheered the Atlanta Braves multiple times. During our first game he was spotlighted on the Jumbotron and I was picked to play a trivia game for a trip. 

We've also attended several  Texas Rangers Dog Day games. During one of those games I received a text from a friend saying they saw Bandit on the nationally televised game.  I was not aware he had made it on the jumbotron. During another game I was interviewed by an out of state newspaper reporter for the Durant Daily Democrat. 

We haven't limited ourselves to the majors--we've also attended Baylor University baseball in Waco and Jackalopes Ice Hockey in Odessa.  I'm still waiting for Cowboys and Saints to host a dog event...hint, hint.

During two different Barkus parades I was interviewed by local radio and tv stations. The best tv  interview actually happened on the parade route, but the interview  was preempted when the Saints won the big game that evening. I didn't mind because the impromptu celebratory parade in the Quarter was AWESOME!

One of my favorite events though was competing in The Ugly Dog Contest in Petaloma California. I told the judges we came to lose and prove to the nonbelievers that Bandit is not ugly. And we accomplished the goal of losing because Bandit was truly the cutest dog there.

On the social front, Bandit had a DoggySpace page before I had a Facebook page--he even hit 100 friends before I did! And he's recognized even when I'm not--even hundreds of miles from where we met a "fan." At festivals and street fairs I  frequently hear,  "there's Bandit!" A little girl we met during a rest area potty break walked down the street of a town a hundred miles away a day or two later and I over heard her excitedly exclaim to her mom, "there's the girl with the dog!"  The Mom, who had had not been with the Dad and Daughter, said "Oh, honey it's not."  I recognized the little girl, so I interrupted their conversation and told her Mom I was in fact "the girl with the dog." The little girl was thrilled I remembered her.

Before Bandit became part of my life, I never talked to strangers.  But  as I answer questions about the Chinese Cresteds, and educate strangers to the breed with "personality plus," Bandit, my Neked Boy is stripping away the vestiges of my normally intoverted shyness.

M is for Mama: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

The A2Z Blog Team prompt for M is Music and Memories, but I am straying and writing about my Mama.

Mama is the strongest woman I know.  She is a product of the Great Depression. Her Daddy was a migrant worker and Mama and her siblings lived in Tent City. When times were at the worst, they had to leave  school to pick cotton for a nickle a day--and they had to fight to be paid that nickle.

Because she didn't have much, she learned to make do.

I was born six weeks premature in the days prior to premi-clothes. Mama deconstructed a dolls outfit and made a pattern for my clothes and diapers.  For a good part of Daddy's career in the US Air Force, Daddy's pay put us below poverty level. Mama and Daddy refused to go on welfare or get food stamps, so Mama took a job at the Levi Stause factory sewing jeans.

When Mama didn't sew our clothes, she bought seconds from factories or at secondhand stores. When she didn't have money to pay for car maintance, she did it herself. Every year she and Daddy climbed on top of the trailer to reseal the roof.

After she and Daddy divorced, she bought her first house and decided to install ceiling fans. She couldn't afford an electrician, so she installed them herself. And she climbed trees to trim limbs hanging over the house.

When she retired and moved into the country, the County told her she had to have a drainage ditch. They said they couldn't help. She began digging by hand. After a week of digging, they got wind of her efforts and someone with a backhoe showed up.

That's my Mama in a nutshell--she's a tenacious can do woman.

Growing up her frugal country ways embarrassed my bratty self. Now, I appreciate all that she sacrificed for my Sister and me. 

Every time I find myself doing or saying something she has done or said, I smile and tell myself,  I'm just like my Mama. There is no higher compliment I can receive.

I don't tell her nearly enough, but I love my Mama dearly. 

I'm gonna stop writing now, so I can go tell her.

L is for Learning to Just Write: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

The A2Z Blogging Challenge for L is Learning to Just Write.

It's a lesson I need to ingrain. A lesson to drive away the excuses for not writing. 

But my computer is down for the count. Just Write. Paper and pen, smart phone, typewriter--all are available. Just Write.

But I won't be able to participate in the challenge if I write off-line.  Just Write. You can use the computer at the public library, your alma mater, work (after work hours), or an internet cafe  to post what you wrote off line.  Just Write.

But my spell check has started giving my previous typos as "correct" spelling--making editing a nightmarish chore. Just Write.  You still have a hard copy dictionary. Somewhere. So what if it takes longer. Just Write.

It takes time, practice, determination, and perseverance to learn anything. Writing well is no different. Take classes, attend workshops and conferences, join others with like minds. What ever you choose to do, Just Write.

But I'm behind. Again. And I just don't have the time. So catch up.  Make the time. Write a haiku waiting in the grocery line. Get up an hour early. Go to bed an hour later. All it takes is to...Just Write.

But I don't write well, or the conten is drivel--or any or any other "It's not good enough" thoughts.  Just Write. Do you honestly think everything has to be as weighty (and boring) as The Illiad?  There are so many genres to choose. Pick one. Or two. Make up your own. Turn Drivel into a genre. Just Write.

K is for Kitchen: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

Actually, K is for Klutz  in the Kitchen.

I don't like to cook, but I have a few go-to, no-fail dishes I cook well. Until recently.

In the past two months my best dish--a flavorful taco soup was tasteless, and I've set off my fire alarm.  Multiple times.

The latest debacle involved my instapot. I love cooking with my crock pot, so I thought the instapot would be a cinch.

Nope.

Don't get me wrong.  I like it, but it's different.

I found an all in one instapot recipe for mashed potatoes and meatloaf. It sounded wonderful. At the last minute I decided to change to sweet potatoes. Since I wanted them oven baked I decided to pop the meatloaf in the oven as well. I had just taken a dump cake out of the oven so it was still hot.

Unfortunately, the dump cake was made in a dish too small because the correct sized dish was in use (another dump cake I took to an event). The second dump cake bubbled over. Just a little.

Rather than cooling and cleaning the oven, I went ahead and popped the meatloaf and sweet potatoes in for the cook.  A few minutes into the cooking, I thought my eyes were strained.  No. The room was getting smokey. About the time I realized it, the alarm sounded.

Not a problem.  Well, except it was 10:30 pm. I turned off the screeching alarm, turned on the exhaust fans, and opened the windows to air the place out.

The food was about half cooked. Again, not a problem. I popped the potatoes in the microwave and decided to finish off the meatloaf in the instapot. The meatloaf was still in the original handformed shape for the instapot so I just popped it in, set the time, and  left the room.

A couple minutes later I came back and checked the instapot. It said, "burn." That was when I realized I hadn't added the liquid. It wasn't burned.

After adding the liquid and resetting the time I actually ended up with the best, moistest, most flavorful meatloaf I've ever made. 

Unfortunately, I don't think I could reproduce the recipe. My neighbors are probably glad.  They like to sleep.

J is for Jumble: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

J is for jumble. That's what I call the mess that comprises the thoughts in my head at any given time.

It amazes me when those jumbled thoughts make connections and spark ideas that rearrainge themselves and evolve to become cohesive, streamlined, and goal-directed.

Writing the jumble helps me make sense of it. I think that's the charm of writing.

But what I really love is cut and paste. Cut and paste, and undo, are my go-to editing tools.  I used to also rely heavily on spell check, but for some stupid reason, spell check adopts my mis-spells and typos, and offers them back to me in place of correctly spelled words.

Not good.

Incorrect misspells are infinitely worse than the original jumble. 

I is for Imagination: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

Imagination. It's often  a misunderstood skill. Some people in authority, like parents, teachers, and bosses, mistakenly strive to restrict, containt, regulate, and in extreeme instances, abolish it.

There is a time and place for everything. That includes working the right side of our brains by exercising our imagination through  day-dreaming. In those relaxed periods anything from problem solutions to masterful works of art  can be conceived. Even if nothing of seeming importance is imagined, that most coveted of all commodities:  down time,  can act as a brain reboot, which may ready an analytical mind for the solution or masterpiece hidden within.

The anylitical work of the left hemisphere of the brain is enhanced by the imaginative and emotive right hemisphere.

And the expressively artistic right hemisphere needs the systematic  orderliness of the left hemisphere.

The hemispheres are not meant to be in opposition to each other.  They are meant to work together.

Just ask any Disney Imagineer.

H is for Haiku: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

h is for haiku
five seven five poetry
elusive season

Haiku is challenging for me, but it remains my favorite form of poetry. I know the Japanese count sounds that are not present in the English  language, so the pure 5-7-5 count does not really translate--but I still like the 5-7-5 count that most people, mistakenly or not, view as Haiku.  A well written Haiku is much more involved.

In addition to the syllable count, there is no title or punctuation--including capitalization.
But more important than the form, is the content.

The Haiku poem evokes the feeling of a season or time of year,  and after the cutting word--which acts as an audible punctuation mark--marrys two seemingly unrelated thoughts.

Unfortunately, I just don't get the kigo--seasonal component. I also don't get the kireji--the cutting word that acts as the verbal punctuation.  Sometimes I don't even get the grammatical or imagacal (that's not even a word--but you know what I mean) juxtaposition of the two different thoughts expressed.

But I still love the 5-7-5 count.

Senryu, another Japanese form of poetry,  is probably a more correct term for 5-7-5 poetry since Senryu has no requirement of  a seasonal reference. But more people are familiar with the term Haiku, so that's the term I use most. When I say I like 5-7-5 poems, if people don't get it, I have said, "it's kind of like Haiku--but without the season."  It's not strictly accurate; however, people seem to understand that description.

Writing Haiku is challenging. I don't write it well.  But I still live it.  And I'm slowly  learning and improving.  At least I hope so.  I'm basing my growth on the fact that I'm begining to recognize the need for the  contextual components. 

Now I just need to learn how to add them to the form...

haiku poetry
seasonal symbolism
challenge accepted

G is for Glassblowing: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

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F is for Friday! A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

F is for Friday! Five days late. Yep. I still haven't caught up. Getting behind just one day in the A2Z Blogging Challenge can snowball out of control.

Friday was an interesting day. I usually refer to Friday as Dump Day.  It's the day most of  the providers seem to favor for discharging the patients. My Ward has the highest patient flow any day of the week, and Friday's are no exception. 

Part of my job is to foresee potential  roadbkocks to discharge and fix them.  Even when I ask point blank questions, and I'm given point blank answers, curve balls still manage to be pitched at me every discharge day of the week.  Especially Friday.  Although, since I've been preemptively striking the most common roadblocks, the average length of stay on my Ward had dropped dramatically.

This past Friday, for once, everything fell into place beautifully.  No curve balls. No surprises. It was a good thing. It was my B12 Friday.

Once a month I have to have a B12 injection. I could self-administer them; however, I choose to use sick leave and schedule it at the end of the workday on the First Friday of the month.  That way, at least once a month I am assured of leaving work at a decent time. Because the sheer volume of work is so heavy, I almost always work an hour or more over-time every day.  Actually, anything less than 2 or 3 hours overtime still feels like a short day. 

Friday was a First Friday and we were cookin' with gas. The puzzle peices were clicking into place.  As Tony the Tiger says, it was a "grrrreat day!"

Until 10:45 am.

That's when we have our daily Interdisiplany Team Meeting.  During IDT the various disciplines discuss the progress of each patient, the road blocks to care and discharge disposition, and predict more formal  discharge dates.

Last Friday it all ground to a screeching  halt when my favorite doctor and I could not seem to communicate. She asked how to accomplish a specific task over the weekend, with limited weekend resources. I told her what to do. She did not want to do it. I reiterated the process. She again voiced resistance. Finally, I decided to allow her to attempt it her way and I stopped talking. When I stop talking, everyone knows I'm not pleased.

Later in the day, just before I left for my B12, my doc came to me, took me by the hand, and asked if we were okay. I reassured her were were fine. She noted my red-rimed eyes and said, "But I've upset you--you've been crying."

And because I am my Prankster-Mothers Daughter, I commenced to wailing and sobbing. 

There is the tiniest of possibilities that I was overly dramatic.

Okay, I laid it on so thick people came to The Swamp Room to see if I was okay. I talked it up a good 30 seconds, and would have kept it up, but her looks of horror caused me to have mercy.  I'm not sure if the hooer was a result of my acting, or she believed me.

"Its allergies." I confessed through my giggles.

The result:  My Doc and I are still good. She attempted to accomplish her weekend goal her way, and while she was eventually successful, it was at a much higher cost of time and frustration expended than if she had just done as I had suggested.

And,  while I worked half an hour into my sick leave, I finished all my tasks and made it to  my First Friday B12 injection just before the end of the day. Which meant I was able to make it to my hair appointment by 5:45--well before I normally get to leave work on a "normal overtime until 6 or 7 pm" day.

Yep. Last week, Friday was a grrrreat day.  And I'm expecting another great day.  Everyday!

E is for Everything and Everybody: A to Z Blogger Challenge 2018

I'm still playing BlogChallenge CatchUp.  Using the A2Z Blog Challenge Team prompt, here is the post I should have written Thursday....

E is for Everything and Everybody.

Everything and Everybody sounds all-inclusive.  Unfortunately I've yet to see anything or anybody truely all-inclusive.

Liberals say, "Be tolerant" of everything. Yet they don't tolerate a mindset or moral code different from their own. I'm not judging whether they are right or wrong.  I'm just sayin' they aren't as tolerant as they expect others to be.

But liberals aren't the only ones.

Christians say, "Come as you are--everybody is welcome." Then they teach change. Again, I'm not saying change is not warranted--I believe it is warranted.  But the desire to change comes from the conviction our spirit feels from the prompting of the Holy Spirit, not other people.

We say everything and everybody,  but we don't really believe in inclusiveness. That would mean the abolishment  of cliques and hierarchies.

It would mean I believed your way of thinking is just as good as mine.

It would also mean you belived my way of thinking is just as good as yours.  

I just don't see that happening.  I think what we really mean when we say everything and everybody, is:  everything and everybody--as long as they line up with what I believe.   

We may think we are inclusive, but we are not.  We may not mean to be judgemental. We may not even realize we are judgemental, but we are.

Will there ever be a day when E really is all-inclusive?  And do we really want it...

D is for Do-over: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018D

D is supposed to be for Debut if I were following the AtoZ Team prompts like I said I was going to do; however,  I'm being another D-word--one that aptly describes me: Difficult. 

Okay, so I'm not being difficult, I'm just having a difficult time writing about debut. So I'm deviating (another D-word) and  using my own D-word.  It's one of my favorites:  Do-over.

I believe in second chances. I believe people can change. I believe in do-overs.

I first heard the term listening to the audio book,  "The Red Hat Club" by Haywood Smith.   In the book she described the twelve traditions by which the characters abided. Well, except the MYOB tradition (#5, "mind your own business," which everyone ignored). For those of you that have read the books, that's sort of a paraphrased quote from the book.

The Do-over tradition is much like the church's teaching of repentance and forgiveness: once you have realized you have done wrong (sinned), you repent (turn away and refrain from repeating the offense), ask forgiveness, and are viewed--at least by God--as justified (just as if you'd never sinned).

And that's how their do-overs worked.  When one of the characters tread too close to the edge of no turning back, rather than proceed forward and risk ruining a relationship, they would call a do-over, and everyone involved had to abide by the rule that no one brought up the incident again. Just as if it'd never happened.

This actually could have been an F-word post:  Forgive, be Forgiven, Forget the offense.  Since I used it here in the Do-over explanation, I probably need , to come up with something  different if I'm not fond of tge F-prompt.

Back to the D-word here's a pseudo-haiku about do-overs:

don't sweat the small stuff
forgive and be forgiven
call a do over

I'm gaining on my catch up posts.  Next stop:  E

C is for Catch-up: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

So much for following the lead of the A2Z Team.  Their C prompt was Challenge or Can Do.

I just couldn't decide which way to go with the post. I started four different posts. I didn't like any of the posts--well, I did like the one where I described myself as being challenging. But I didn't want the whole post to be just about me. That's just too narcissistic.

But the really bad thing about my indecision on C--it carried over to D-day. 

Actually, it's now E  F and I didn't even look at D. So it's really catch up day.

And because I'm still in haiku mode, here's a pseudo-haiku on catching up...


writing three posts now
due to procrastination
my daily challenge


Now, on to D and E.

And F.

B is for Beginning: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

"B" is for beginning, or,  in my case, "B" is for  boo-boo.

Shocking as it may seem I am fallible:  In my haste to register for the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018, I made a mistake. A boo-boo.

I'll tell you I didn't read the instructions because I was trying to register before the A2Z registration link expired.  My registration rank of #696 out of 697 registrants would bear that statement out.

However, truth be known, I rarely read tech instructions--even when I have the time. They frustrate me. They give me a headache.  They use words and terms that mean nothing to me.  In Nursing Diagnosis, I have a Knowledge Deficit related to Technology. And, although it's part of my job as an RN  I don't care to develop a care plan to address it.

In my rush to register I mistakenly thought the initial post prompt was:  A for Awesome.
Desiring  to get ahead of the upcoming Monday post, I spent the better part of Sunday afternoon looking for the prompt list for the remaining days of this month-long challenge.

There isn't one. 

There is a calendar with the daily post links. But neither the calendar nor the daily links say what the prompt is for the letter each day.  When I finally broke down and read the directions, I learned  there are no prompts supplied other than the letter of the day. 

I may choose my own theme for the challenge, and my theme plus the letter of the day, is my prompt. Or, I may  chose no theme at all, and that case, the letter of the day alone is my prompt.

What I mistook for the prompt of the day, was actually part of the title for the A2Z Team post.

Since I've begun the challenge without choosing a theme, and I have too many interests that I could choose from as my theme, I'm choosing to not choose my own theme at all.  

Instead, I'm makeing up my own rules. I plan on continuing to use the daily prompt word or phrase of the A2Z Team as my daily writing inspiration--at least as long as their prompts work for me.

At this point, I feel I must provide a disclaimer:

I am in no way part of the A2Z Challenge
Team. Please do not judge them by my posts.

Getting back to their "B" prompt of Beginnings, I have crafted  a haiku about beginnings. I realize haiku starts with the letter "H" but when you read my haiku on beginnings, you'll notice it's a bad-haiku. Bad-haiku is my specialty.  So haiku  really starts with a "B"--at least in my world.

Besides the letter "B" what do beginnings, boo-boos, and bad-haiku all have in common?

Me.

I say that in jest. But it's also true--and I'm okay with it.  When it comes to tech-stuff I'm a boo-boo rich environment. But it doesn't stop me from blogging. 

And when it comes to haiku, I love the 5-7-5 form, but I don't understand the seasonal reference rule.  But that doesn't stop me from writing bad-haiku. 

In fact, bad-haiku is my crack. I'm a bad-haiku addict. When I read or hear a 5-7-5 rhythm, I start counting syllables--and I count them for days. Subconsciously I craft responses in 5-7-5.

the rhythym got me
haiku  replies in my head
i cant make them stop


(That wasn't it--it was just a 5-7-5.)

Here it is...

thirty days to post
bloggers baring heart and soul
blooming in their craft

And because I'm me, here's another...

a to z  challenge
writers blogging every day
giving life to words

(I warned you, once I start I have a hard time stopping.)

A is for Amazing: A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018

Well, I've done it again.  I've signed up for the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018. I first participated a couple years ago when I stumbled upon the challenge--the day it started.  I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I just knew I wanted to write more, and felt the accountability of a month long challenge might get me into the habit of writing more consistently.

During that challenge, my on-again-off-again blog began to be read by a couple people, and even gained the first follower.   I  was thrilled a total stranger wanted to read what I wrote enough to follow the blog. And I was  terrified. Most of what I write about is drival. How could I make it interesting to anyone else? My blog posts are like Seinfeld--a whole lotta words 'bout nuthin'.

Back then my blog posts were mostly centered around my spoiled rotten Chinese Crested, Bandit. IMHO he could do no wrong. Even when he did.  Today, although we have aged a few years his rotten-ness,  and my blindness to his faults, remain unchanged.

However, the  blog posts have  branched out a little.  Since then we've rescued a Domestic Short Haired cat, Moggy. You would think a rescue would be grateful. He's not. He's got an entitlement attitude.  Since I tend to spoil The Boys I can deal with that.  What I won't allow are his antagonistic shenanigans and fight picking against Bandit The Perfect. I've had "the talk" with Moggy several times. He merely flicks his tail, stares me down, then bites me before scampering just outside the reach of the short arm of the Mommy.  Where's a long armed officer of the law when you need one?  Moggy's not afraid of being homeless again. However,  he does clear my path and runs for cover when he hears The Mommy Voice. 

Although I frequently entertain readers with the riviting stories of The FurBoy antics, I also put pen and ink to innane musings about loftier topics.  Nothing too  controversial mind you--but I occassionally write about politics, religion, relationships gone bad, and sex--you know, safe, non-button-pushing, first-date type topics. 

LOL. Rest easy, those heavyweight topics are far and few between on my blog. When I'm in a reflective mood I post a warning so readers aren't blindsided. If light and fluffy is what you want and expect, I want you to return and be happy reading my nothing posts.  Remember, it's the Seinfield of blogs.

So here I am participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018. Appropriately,  I signed up in the wee small hours of April Fools Day.  I know a little bit more than last time, but not much--and right off the bat, the first topic is, "A is for Amazing."

I'll reiterate: my blog posts are about everyday nothing--they are no way amazing. Like The Bard,  I write to the cadence of my own lexicon, making up words and employing creative spelling. Unlike ol' Will,  my words are not lyrical and will have no staying power. They will have no social impact.  My words will  not be taught in Creative Writing, Contemporary American Lit, or Honors English--although they might make it into Remedial English as examples of "What Not To Do."

Content-wise and technically my blog is average at best. Having  proclaimed this, the pressure to be amazing is now bannished and I can enjoy an amazing a2z month.

Actually,  that's  what's amazing--the Challenge. The growth in wordsmithery. The reading of other blogs. The community of encouragement, despite the auto correct typos I will fail to see until after I've published--no matter how many times I proof-read. These are just a few of the amazingness that is the A 2 Z Blogging  Challenge.

So  I raise my pen and proclaim "Happy blogging to everyone participating--or just lurking and reading.  May we all have an amazing month!"

Who knows, maybe I'll double my 40-ish readersip and even gain a second follower. Now that would be amazing.