Merry Christmas to all. 2010 flew by like a shot. Best wishes for a Happy, Healthy New Year.

I'm still among the living; it's been a long time. Funny how work and life in general get in the way of the pure fun of journaling. I've often thought, well, if I didn't work so much, I'd have more time to compose and add to my journal. The reality is, however, that if this were so, I probably wouldn't have nearly enough interesting things to write about. My working brain tells me this but I know, in truth, that this is a crock. If I could devote several hours each day to this journal, I could write volumes. I still harbor a fervent wish for the stay at home life.

Of late, I've discovered that I am very fond of paddling along in a kayak built for one. Just this last weekend I tried my hand at it for the second time and enjoyed it as much, if not more, than the first. The date appearing on this picture is incorrect. This picture was taken on July 18, 2009. This just proves how unsaavy I am at dealing with such minor details as dates on my digital camera! This lady has far more interesting things to attend to in life. On this day, I was happy to join my brother, two sisters and much of our extended family (mostly meaning those we went forth and created by fuitfully multiplying). It was a grand day. I treasure the rare days when I can bask in the company of my siblings and my adult children, nieces and nephews. Life it sweet; life is good. I am such a lucky woman.

My brother and sister-in-law retired and relocated to a home that surrounds a lagoon. This lagoon connects with the Pacific ocean and if one chose to do so, one could kayak through the lock at one end and kayak away all the way to Japan. Ha!

One would think my life came to a sudden standstill once a new president was elected. It's as if I dropped off the planet. Not so! I'm still very much here, treading water, trying to stay afloat in the current economic state of affairs. I am not as fortunate as some but more so than many. Not having a great deal of money to begin with, nor a fine, fat nest egg in which I was planning to curl up in upon retirement has spared me much worry and grief over the current state of economic affairs. What does worry me is the fact that I very much fear I will never reach that holy grail of high-end middle age; that being the luxury to retire but will instead have to carry on until I drop dead. This really worries me.



Recent history tells me that we were going though much the same sort of thing back in the early eighties but I don't remember it being quite this severe. I was living an entirely different life back then and I don't recall that I was affected much by it. In fact, I was staying at home with my little girl in those days doing those things that I wanted to do: namely, all the things that were all I ever wanted to do in my life. Stay home, be a homemaker, make dinner, tend to my home, be home when my child returned from school, etc. My, doesn't that sound terribly unambitious and lame and boring. However, there's a lot more to being a woman who stays home to run the household and manage family affairs than you might think. But, as usual, I digress.



Work has been alternately difficult, challenging and rewarding. My hours have been cut by a half hour each day. This works out to two and a half hours a week but my net paycheck reflects the pinch bimonthly. The work has become more difficult, more demanding with less time to get it done. There is a freeze on all raises this year. As in so many other companies across the land, our dictum has become "at least we still have a job". While this is quite true at this point in time, I take little comfort in it. This is certainly not what I expected at my age and I have never put so much mental effort and pushed myself so hard in any job before this as I have over the past year and a half.

Escape

I'm happy. My candidate won. I'm disappearing for a bit. We're off to The Springs to celebrate 39 years together as a couple. Yes. I was 16 and he was almost 19. Amazing, isn't it? My husband is such a Romantic. We not only celebrate our married years together; we celebrate when we first went Steady. No one does that any more but we did most seriously on Monday, November 10, 1969 at some time around 8:20 am EST and we've never looked back! Later...

An Unexpected Break, Repaired

And so, while there's never any good time to break any of one's body parts, I couldn't have fallen prey to that errant cat toy at a worse possible time. My first unwieldy cast was applied on July 15. I was informed that it would take six weeks for my break to mend. The major fly in this ointment was the fact that our long since planned vacation was to begin on August 14. And, not only was this our vacation; this trip was going to surround the Second Annual Springs Nymph Weekend at The Springs. See post dated September 24, 2007 A Weekend of Springs Magic.

No way was I going to be laden down with a cast for this trip. I pushed very hard to get my cast taken off a bit early which, in fact, was done on August 11. Having that cast cut off was not unlike the joy of childbirth providing great relief from such a heavy weight! I left the hospital with a soft, velcro-fastened removable splint. I promised to behave myself and not get it wet nor fall again and rebreak my arm. The soft splint worked out beautifully. There was a lot of hauling and lifting that I couldn't do and I babied my left arm to the max. Our vacation was grand, my sisters had a marvelous time and my arm was just about back to normal by the time I returned to work. When the day came that I could wring out a washcloth thoroughly, snap a towel before folding it for storage and pick up, carry to the sink and dump a large potful of boiling water and pasta into a colander, I knew that break was truly healed. It's given me no problem at all since.

As it turned out, physical therapy never entered the picture. I think that returning to work almost immediately after my accident was a good thing. Using my arm as best as I could probably helped it heal quickly. I strongly believe I earned a great deal of respect from my peers at work as well as the seniors for whom I work by coming to work each day, doing the best I could. It was quite an experience; one that I don't wish to repeat but there's nothing like losing the use of a part of oneself to make you appreciate it all the more.

An Unexpected Break

Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. Boy! Did this oft repeated platitude come to pass this summer but not quite in the way I expected it.
Let's back up in time a bit. Yes, I was thinking maybe some time off from work, some quiet time would be nice. Little did I know that some little demon, gremlin or something of that ilk was listening. On a Sunday morning early in July while "putting the house to bed", I tripped over a cat toy in my living room. I was unable to catch myself and I fell to the floor with a crash. I've had a few falls in my recent past and I've always recovered quickly and jumped right up to resume whatever it was I was doing. Not so this time. I knew I had hurt myself. I was pretty sure something was broken judging from the pain emanating from my left arm.
It was very late. My husband had taken himself off to bed earlier. I gathered the pieces of myself up and got as far as the living room sofa. I felt awful and my arm hurt...a lot. I think I just lay there for awhile, doing the injured animal whimpering thing a bit. Before too long, my son loomed over me asking, "what's wrong, Mom?"
I told him what had happened and the next thing I knew, I was being bundled into the car by my husband and driven to Kaiser ER. The long and short of it: I fell, I was x-rayed, I broke the radius bone in my left arm. This was a new experience for me, having never broken anything in my life before this. Thank God it was my left arm because I am a predominate "rightie".
Ah, how quickly life changes. I've been with the same man for almost 40 years and in all that time, I've managed to handle any bathroom emergencies on my own. Not so this night while still at the Emergency Room. I was wearing a pair of shorts with a zip fly, buttoned at the top. I had to GO and I couldn't manage to undo myself with one hand. Nothing like your spouse taking you to the toilet to help you undo lest you wet yourself. This was just the beginning. In the ensuing weeks, my husband, my love, my best friend became the most considerate, attentive caregiver one could possibly imagine. He did everything.
My accident occurred early Sunday morning. I had that Sunday off, called work to report what had happened and said I wouldn't be in that Monday. I did return to work Tuesday, however, and apart from leaving early in the day a couple of times, worked through my entire casted confinement. About two weeks after my fall and initial ER casting, I reported in and my left arm was subsequently encased in a cast from the first joints of my left hand to halfway between my elbow and my shoulder. Suddenly, I was very much aware of how much our elbows come into the daily routine of life. I couldn't use a curling iron, put in earrings, apply makeup very well, button buttons, zip zippers, put on socks, tie shoes, bathe properly, wash my hair, pin on my name tag, etc.
My husband helped me every single morning to get ready for work. We bagged up the left arm, showered together at which time he washed my hair and scrubbed me clean. I was very much aware that I didn't want this cast to get wet to impede my recovery in any way. My back has never been so clean before or since this episode. He helped to dry me and I discovered lo after all these years of assisting seniors with their showers that places that need drying most seem to get missed. I learned very quickly to dress myself as much as I could because I soon discovered that I hated having my socks put on my some one else.
To be continued...

resurection

Intimidated....yes.  It's been so long since I've been in this place that I am amazed, read intimidated, by the mood choices.  Obviously someone worked very hard and very long into the night to produce all these emotional choices.  Amazing.

Interesting to note that my most recent entry was April 27, a little over five months ago. This reminds me of when I was young and making daily entries into my journal. When life was dreary, boring or simply day to day stuff, I managed to find time each evening to write at least something. Gaps began to appear in this very same journal when Life picked up, became interesting and I was too busy living and enjoying same to stop and write about it. Ah, some things never change no matter what our age.

It's been about three and a half months since I accepted the mantle of Spring Lake Village Outpatient Office Coordinator, and it seems as if at least a year has passed since I said, "I will". Since filling in for this position and, subsequently, accepting the job, there seems to be no spare time to do ANYTHING. The difference in my daily work hours is only one half hour but these fleeting thirty minutes evidently make all the difference in the world. I simply cannot figure out how I managed to write in not only one, but two journals, on a fairly regular basis and still had time to get up, get to work, do my job, arrive home, help with dinner, eat it and shortly thereafter fall into bed. Nothing has changed except than I no longer arrive home before my husband. Maybe I'm so busy livin' and lovin' The Vida Loca that I have no time to write about it. Alas, I don't think that's the case.

I find myself longing for some free, kick-back time, time to myself. Sometimes I think it would be rather pleasant to come down with a minor little "something" that prevents me from going to work for a couple of days but not so dreadful that I can't be up and around doing some things I'd like to do. This is a ridiculous fantasy because I'm the sort of person whose work ethic is so strongly engrained that I have to have one foot in the grave before I call in sick to work. I will call in if I'm in the contagious stage of a cold; i.e. sneezing, coughing and dripping about the place but I rarely get colds. I never seem to "catch" whatever's going around theworkplace at any given time that a vast majority of my co-workers seem to catch on a regular basis. Hmm. I watch my "sick time hours" accumulate steadily with each subsequent paycheck and wonder why don't I get paid for this time that is set aside for me but never used. Sick time at my job is strictly a case of "you don't use it, you lose it"! This makes no sense to me. I think this is a major flaw in the system but nobody's seeking out my opinion on the subject.

A Promotion

Well now, I got the job. My director called me into her office and proceeded to inform me she was very pleased to offer me the job for which I've been filling in for the past six months on a permanent basis. I was satisfied with the offer and accepted most graciously. This is a development I truly never anticipated nor sought. Our lives work in mysterious ways, don't they?

Since I got drop-kicked into this job a week before Halloween last year, it's been an uphill struggle all the way. I fought it tooth and nail, desperately wishing I could return to my "real" job. Days turned into weeks which melted into months and it began to dawn on me gradually that I wasn't hating this "new" job as much I thought. I came to the realization, albeit begrudgingly, that I rather liked it when things went well. I didn't want to go back to delivering medication to people, assisting them with showers and bathing when needed or running out to check phones off the hook. I liked when I was able to follow through on a doctor's order and be able to do so without always having to ask lots of "how to" questions of the outpatient nurse. I liked knowing I could help residents in, shall we say, more intellectual ways than helping them to wash!

Trying to fill the shoes of someone who's worked with a group of people for over 20 years and in this office for six, seven years or so seemed insurmountable. I'm a replacement for the job and not the person who ran things so efficiently for so long. It's my turn now to make this job my own, work out little systems that work for me and learn something more every day. My working life began in the secretarial field. After a 12 year hiatus from the working world, I returned to it and found a nice niche in the health-care business. Securing my present job brings my work experience full circle, connecting the two very different careers quite well. Every new day at work brings with it many problems. At this point I feel I'm up to the challenge of dealing with them.

Blatherings

I really must stop averring that I am "my own worst critic". Sheesh! Lately, I seem to be beating that phrase to death. Maybe I like the way it sounds; I don't know. It's become an annoying habit and I must stop it at once. Add that to the growing list of so many things I should and shouldn't be doing. Does this mindful list ever end? I'm going to be 55 years old this summer and I'm sorry to admit that I don't feel that I'm perfect...not yet. I suppose there's still hope; I'm young enough yet.

On the job front, I have my official interview this coming Thursday afternoon with my supervisor. I have to laugh. This strikes me as an unnecessary evil but one must bow to the bureaucracy of how things are done in a corporate setting. Alas, yes, this great place for seniors in which I work is, in the final analysis, a corporate business and run accordingly. Since my return to work, the job has been especially grueling but I discovered a few truths. When I made ready to depart on my last day, I thought to myself this would be a bit of a test for me and the residents. During my absence they'd think either "Whew, thank goodness she's gone" or "where's Meredith? Where has she gone?" I was pleased to discover that my absence was noticed and I was missed. In a community of 300 plus residents this counts for a lot.

I want this to be over and done with. Is she is or is she ain't....worth installing into this now open position on a permanent basis? I don't think it's so much that I'm dying to have this job but rather than I'd like to know it's mine and can move forward to fashion it to my way of doing things. We all have our own systems of doing things; I've been working under our receptionist's way of doing everything with the understanding that she would return. One does not rock this boat when in a temporary, albeit lasting for almost half a year, position. I want to move on, know that this job is mine and expand on this. Yes, I never cease to amaze myself which is why I'm one of my best fans. I see this as an excellent opportunity, an advancement and, at this point in my life, a quite wonderful come-full-circle position to enjoy and serve the older generation in such a way that will probably be the last job of my work-related life. I do so hope!! Oh please, Lord, don't let me end up having to be a "greeter" at Walmart or some such job in some other Godforsaken like place. I think I'd rather die. No, I don't think...I would. But, I digress. Such is my usual fashion, my normal state. Some things I cannot, will not change. Why? This is my journal and I don't have to.

We'll see what tomorrow brings, eh?

A Break from Work & a Birthday

I mentioned I took some time off from work to give my daughter a hand following some surgery she had.  This break coincided with her birthday; a big one, her 30th.

Here we are on our most recent trip to Monterey Aquarium along with a friend,

She wasn't able to bend over to pick things up, couldn't lift anything more than 5 pounds and couldn't go up and down stairs or drive anywhere.  She lives on the upper level of a duplex and the washing machine and dryer are downstairs.  My job was to get there each morning to take my granddaughter to school, do at least one load of laundry a day, take the puppy they acquired just days before her surgery out to pee or whatever...constantly and pick up granddaughter from school in the afternoon.  I was willing and able to do anything else my daughter wanted or needed but it was never much.  Once my son-in-law came home from work, I was free to return to mine.

I know she was hurting and mighty uncomfortable but we had a marvelous time.  We talked a lot, watched many movies and just hung out with each other for four straight days.  It was wonderful.  I very much enjoyed the opportunity to spend her birthday with her.  Her brother and cousin stopped in separately during the day to drop off a gift.  Her daughter and I baked a birthday cake for her and all in all, it was a pretty mellow birthday.  Turns out her husband had a surprise party planned for her the following weekend and so she was ushered into the 30's quite nicely. 

 

 

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An Amazing Turn of Events

I struggle through each day not unlike a salmon trying to fight its way upstream with no fish ladder.

I’m very resistant to change, I don’t multi-task and I hate the telephone.

I miss my job; the job I left my old one of almost ten years to learn. That was enough of a change, enough of a challenge. Sometimes I wonder how much my muddled, menopausal brain can stand.

Is our receptionist coming back? Her eventual return is the only thing that’s keeping me going.

"a job shift into one of greater responsibility and magnitude than I ever sought or wished to seek when I landed my "new" job about two and a half years ago"

The Lord works in mysterious ways. The world works in even more mysterious ways. And, damned, if that isn’t true. I have a well established reputation in my family as "she who resists change", "she who hates change", "she who will NOT change". Alas, these facts have been all been too true. I will moan and groan and lament about how I can’t do this, I’ll never be able to do this, I don’t know how anyone can possibly do this. Flash forward to a few weeks and, suddenly, I can, am able and, apparently, it’s possible that I am doing this. This has been my personal MO ever since the experience of my first kiss to where I find myself at present. I think it’s because I’ve been a "pleaser" all my life and would rather die than fail to meet the challenge (even if it’s something I never sought in the first place). I never want to let people down; be it my parents, my family, my children, my employers, my co-workers, this list could go on ad nauseam and do you get my drift?? Chalk it up to a lifetime problem of not possessing enough self-confidence in myself and my ability. Lord knows, I’ve been given a million reasons to have plenty of this stuff from my family and extended friends. We are our own worst critics, aren’t we?

Several days ago, my supervisor informed me that the job I’ve been filling in for the past five months was posted as "available". Oh! "Does this mean the absent for five months medical receptionist won’t be coming back?" "Well, she may come back to SLV but it won’t be to the Outpatient Department".

Dunt, dunt, dunn. Wow! My worst fear realized. Oh mercy, whatever will I do? Supervisor goes on to tell me the job will be posted as an internal job opening for one week...only because she has to do this. She can’t imagine anyone better suited for this position than...ME! WOW! Truth to tell, by this time I’ve come to the point where I find this job a whole lot more interesting and challenging and satisfying than my old job. Over the past five months, my brain-think has evolved from "I can’t wait until she comes back" to "she’ll be back one of these days" to "when she comes back, I’m going to be kind of bummed to have to return to my old job". What a turnaround.

The moment of truth had arrived. The defining moment, as it were. Would you believe that I got myself an application, filled it out and since I’ve been away from work this week, I dropped it into the mail box to arrive on my supervisor’s desk before I return to work? The die is cast, the deal is done. Unless someone else within the confines of where I work has had secret longings to be the medical receptionist of the Outpatient Department, I feel confident the job will soon be solely mine.

I used to tell my husband that I wouldn't’t do this job for the Crowned Jewels of England, for all themoney in the world, for all the tea in China, etc. Ah, what fools these mortals be that don’t realize their worth and are so clueless as to what lies ahead of them in their life. Thank goodness for that, eh? I’ll let you know what happens.

 

 

 

Mired in Frustration

Some are born to greatness. Others have greatness thrust upon them. Last October a great, heaping helping of greatness was tossed into my lap and I continue to struggle with it still. Rather than greatness, actually, it was a job shift into one of greater responsibility and magnitude than I ever sought or wished to seek when I landed my "new" job about two and a half years ago.

Briefly, on October 26 of last year I arrived back to work after a day off and was informed that our medical receptionist left work early due to agonizing knee pain. I would have to "work the desk". This in itself came as no great surprise to me; she’d had minor laproscopic knee surgery in July and continued to have trouble with it from time to time. I accepted this news cheerfully enough as it was a Friday and I’d filled in a time or two before (not to mention that disastrous week in August of 2006 when my son was in hospital hell limbo) and surely I could hold things together until Monday when our receptionist returned after a weekend of rest to resume her duties.

This is so not what happened!

I work in the outpatient department of a senior lifetime care community which means independent, assisted and skilled nursing care are all provided on the same site to approximately 300 people who live there. Our medical receptionist has worked at her present job for about seven or eight years. Prior to that she worked as a CNA in the skilled nursing facility of the community. She started working there when she was 17 when the place first opened in 1986. She knows everyone and everything about them and since she’s pretty much grown up with the residents since day one, she is regarded as a dear daughter who takes care of every little medical office-type detail with great efficiency and seemingly no effort. And so she does. It’s a grueling job, very multifaceted, requires major multi-tasking, the phone never stops ringing and the old folks never stop coming to the front window. She breezes through each day as if it were a walk in the park. I struggle through each day not unlike a salmon trying to fight its way upstream with no fish ladder.

I have been sputtering in the gushing stream for almost twelve weeks. Almost three months; oh yes, I’m counting. Every single damn day! Sure, I’m better at it than I was at the beginning but it’s far from that walk in the park. I can’t even see the park from here. I don’t switch gears well, I’m very resistant to change, I don’t multi-task and I hate the telephone. I’m doing the best I can and taking it one day at a time. I know I’m my own worst critic and don’t appreciate or acknowledge the good job everyone tells me I’m doing. I know perfectly well that if I were screwing things up left and right, I’d be yanked out of that front desk in a heartbeat. It’s a challenge alright and I’ve got to admit that when things go right, those days are quite satisfactory.

I’m between a rock and a hard place. The alternative to my working the desk would be to train someone new to do it. To my mind, training someone to do a job that was never yours in the first place and one which you never did before has got to be a hundred times worse than doing it yourself. I get lots of help from my outpatient nurse, department manager and assistant manager. We’re a small department and we rely on each other a lot to pull through the day. I miss my job; the job I left my old one of almost ten years to learn. That was enough of a change, enough of a challenge. Sometimes I wonder how much my muddled, menopausal brain can stand.

Is our receptionist coming back? Her eventual return is the only thing that’s keeping me going. She’s been going through her own kind of hell, I know. Her injury is being managed by workman’s comp. That’s probably all I have to mention. She’s had CT scans, MRIs, biopsies, etc. Perhaps she never should’ve had the knee surgery in the first place but that’s water under the bridge; the water in which I’m struggling upstream daily.

It's been awhile

It's been well over a month since I've had access to my computer.  We ran into some major problems when we switched from AOL to Comcast.  Had to bring a professional in to fix the mess.  Apparently, all is well and even though I'd been told repeatedly that once we got it back, all would be lost and it would be just like starting over.  Not so, I discovered much to my surprise and delight.  Many things in my files that I thought were gone are still intact.  Nice.

When I return to an old entry of my journal, I'm unable to click onto anything that lets me add an entry.  What I'm using here is the "Add an Entry" page I had saved in my Favorites.  I wonder if it will work.  Let's see.

Moving On

I'm in this gray area between AOL and Comcast.  I'm hoping this entry will post in my old "Country" journal to try to redirect folks to my new home on the web.  Please click on this link to take you to:

http://yetanothercountryheardfrom07.blog.com

A Weekend of Springs Magic

Rub-a-dub-dub; three sisters in the tub, hot tub, that is. A dream I've nursed for ages was realized on a recent September weekend. Many's the time while at our beloved Springs, I've thought it would be great to have my two sisters with us. I kept this idea simmering on the back burner of my mind for a long time. This past spring I brought it to the forefront and mailed a formal invitation to my two very dear big sisters to join us for an overnight trip to our most special, favorite place on Earth.

My second oldest sister emailed back with an immediate, emphatic "I'm in", followed by "why not two nights?" My older sister was a bit more reluctant to accept. For many years now she has had family obligations which have kept her from venturing too far from home. This is the sister who has accompanied us in the past for the occasional day trip to the Springs. After some gentle cajoling (because we knew she really wanted to join us) and reassurance that other adult family members living at home currently could hold down the fort for a day or two, she accepted as well. So much to do; much time to plan. My husband has perfected master planning and list making to an art form. It's his favorite medium, his hobby. To his credit, we never lack for anything once we arrive. We picked a date in mid September, fully confident that northern California would deliver perfect late summer weather.

After almost half a year of sweet anticipation, our long awaited weekend came to pass. Disrobing and sharing warm to cold mineral waters, steam baths and saunas with one's family members may seem strange. However, we've been married for 33 plus years and my sisters have known my husband even longer. Once ensconced in the safe haven of this magical place, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. And it was. I made it quite clear from the get go that the Springs is a clothing optional place. Oldest sister, Carole, was a seasoned pro having gone with us before.

Middle sister, Pat, the novice, joined right in, she being an adventurous spirit and always at the ready to try new things. No place on earth is safer and more comfortable to do such a thing.

We had the time of our lives. We sisters love each other dearly and enjoy each other's company like no one else's. Talk about a pampered, catered weekend! My husband planned each meal, each menu and brought them all to culinary perfection for us all. I helped as prep cook, sous chef, whatever...and together, we wined and dined our beautiful, beloved sisters (in-law) to perfection. We stayed in our usual cottage number 12 which houses a stove, refrigerator, sink and counterspace and an eclectic conglomeration of pots and pans and utensils. Anything not found here, a quick trip down to the large community kitchen will remedy. Number 12 connects to a smaller room with a lavatory in between to share. We had our sleeping space, the sisters had theirs. Perfect. We rounded up two extra chairs, pulled our little round dining table out and made room for the four of us for mealtimes and general partying, the latter of which we did a lot!

When I sent the initial invitations, I also made it perfectly clear that one could have lots of privacy, go off by themselves to a quiet spot, soak in a private tub, etc. It's nice to know this is an option but I wasn't too surprised when it turned out that we four spent the majority of our time soaking, steaming and sweating (sauna) in close proximity to each other. We love each other, of course, but we really like each other too. My older sister carries a lot of stress and worry around with her and we could actually see some of this baggage slip away from her face. My other sister never appears to be overly stressed; I believe she has her fair share as do we all but deals with it better. However, she also seemed to be much affected by the magic of the Springs. I could see a great sense of relaxation settle upon her as time went by as well.

As delightful as it is, one cannot spend 24 solid hours soaking her body in soothing water. I brought along a Scrabble game which came into play (!) several times a day. My older sister is an avid New York Times crossword puzzle fan (she's so good that she uses a pen) and having brought a book full of them, we other three took turns playing the kibitzer and completed several of them sucessfully. The time to pack up and leave came all too soon but I am sure this adventure will be preserved in our memories as one of the best weekends we've ever had in our lives. That's really saying something because between the four of us, we've had some great adventures. It is my husband's and my hope that we can do this again sometime; perhaps turn it into a yearly event. I already know that sister number two would say readily enough, "I'm in".

Please click on the following The Three Sisters link to see a picture of "The Three Graces" withthe cleanest nails west of the Rockies.

<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://i240.photobucket.com/albums/ff223/SpringsNymph/TheThreeSistersCousinTerry-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"></a>

 

A Summer Excursion

Monterey. Monterey Bay. Monterey Bay Aquarium. Three distinct destinations, all wonderful places.

I’ve had the privilege of visiting the Monterey Bay Aquarium twice this year. My daughter and son-in-law gave us a Christmas gift of a weekend in Monterey. When the time came to go back in February, my husband was so sick that he couldn’t possibly go. Being the good man that he is, he urged Michael and me to go and not to worry about him and so we did. That was a great trip and we had lots of fun

We came home full of impressions and pictures to share as well as some great news. A new exhibit was on its way to the aquarium featuring fresh water otters. The sea otter exhibit at the aquarium is wonderful and one of my favorite places to spend time. Anyone who knows us knows our true adoration lies with river otters and the like. My daughter and son-in-law decided they would plan another trip to Monterey sometime in the summer taking just my husband and me. We knew the otter exhibit would be in place by then and before I even left the place, I couldn’t wait to return.

On the first weekend of July, the four of us took off for Monterey. My son-in-law, Chris, did all the driving and that in itself was a treat. It was very nice to just look out the window and enjoy the sights; no worries, no hassles. We had a fabulous time. This was the first time we’d gone anywhere with them without children in tow. It was a unique experience to relate to our grown daughter and son-in-law as another adult couple separate from the mommy/daddy mode. The new exhibit was everything we were hoping for and more. My husband and I were in otter heaven and very pleased that the home for this little creatures was obviously well thought out and spacious. Yes, it’s a captive life but the inhabitants didn’t look unhappy at all.

We crammed a lot into that weekend. We ate lots of food, spent two days at the aquarium and visited plenty of shops in search of just the right souvenirs to bring back home. Here’s a picture of my husband, Jim, and me standing with a good friend in the front of a store where an otter fan can find anything they could possibly want...

It'll be a while before we return but we're looking forward to our next visit.

 

Love those comments

Let’s face it; there’s nothing more pleasing to all who journal than the sight of "comment added alert" in our email boxes. It means someone, somewhere out there is actually reading our deathless lines and knowing this, validates such.

Therefore, after an eight-month absence from my journal, I was amazed to view several comments that appeared shortly after my "return" entry. With the exception of one, all were from people I’d never heard from before. Currently, I’m in the process of visiting their journals. It’s been my habit that when I visit someone’s journal initially, I start with their first entry and either read the entire journal or skim through if it’s especially long and end with the most recent entry. How else to get to know someone and get a feel for their style of writing?

I’m hopeful that others do this as well because I have a strong feeling that many of the best entries to flow from my fingers to the printed page are already in place. If no one ever backtracked to peruse past entries, a new reader to my journal would never get a true sense of who I am. These are selfish thoughts, I know, but our journals are our selfish little creations extolling the joys and sorrows of our personal lives and we love them and feel quite proud and protective of them. Come on, you know it’s true.

A lot of people take breaks from their journals; an amazing amount of people keep up with them on such a regular basis that I sometimes wonder if they ever sleep. How do they find the time? When I read back on my journal, I am amazed by how much I wrote and how I found the time to do so. Where did that time go? I swear, the minutes and hours of the days are shrinking and the days and weeks rush by with such speed and, of course, I know why this is happening. It’s because I’m getting older. It’s that simple. My parents told me this would happen and by golly, they were right!

It’s good to be back.

Eight Months Later...

California’s teetering on the verge of a drought and we concerned citizens of this beautiful but rain starved state have been trying very hard to conserve our water. It hasn’t become the major chore of a little over thirty years ago when I encountered bricks in cisterns and charming little signs posted in bathrooms instructing the user "if it’s yellow, let it mellow; if it’s brown, flush it down". Ah yes, words to live by in the late seventies. No, things aren’t quite so serious yet but even in the best of times when rain has been abundant and water is everywhere, it is everyone’s duty to conserve our precious water. It’s been a wet summer for me, however, both in and out of water.

This has been a swimming summer for me. My husband and I are always trying to keep our hands in getting some kind of exercise. It ain’t easy! Over our many years together, we’ve run, walked, biked and swum (yes, that really is a proper past tense for swim–I looked it up. Looks funny, doesn’t it?) I am not an athletic type and the best part of exercise is when it’s over. I hated running, walking’s nice but my husband’s knees can’t take it anymore, bicycling is great if there are no cars around (knocking bikers off the road is becoming something of a sport these days). I’ve never been a huge fan of swimming but this year has been different.

Each year I have to relearn swimming. Swimming is one of those skills that supposedly once learned, is easy to pick right back up after a long absence. Riding a bike, typing and sex also fall into that category, I believe. I’ve never found it so with swimming. Perhaps that’s because I’m not such a hot swimmer to begin with. Like so many things in my life, I learned (sort of) to swim when I was around 8 or 9. Much too late. A lady friend of my mother’s took me to the local lake one summer and under her patient tutelage, I managed to learn how to tread water, float on my back and swim a few pathetic strokes for a short distance. I recall that this very kind woman actually had to bribe me with money to get me to put my head under water. When I think back on the cesspool of a lake we were in, I wouldn’t put my head under or my body in that water for vast sums of money if offered the same deal today. But ignorance is bliss and it never occurred to me what might be lurking in that nasty lake as I was splashing around in it.

Fast forward to shortly after my wedding day. We moved to a nice apartment complex close to our jobs and use of a good-sized swimming pool was one of the perks. Now, you know what happens to a lot of folks followingtheir wedding day when they’re head over heels in love with each other, the world in general and are extremely happy. Love and happiness ofter equals food. Lots of it! Alas, we were no exception. It didn’t help that directly across from our apartment was Louie’s Bakery and it turned out that Louie made the best damn donuts and pastries on the planet. Every Sunday morning my sweetie and I and a box filled with a dozen of Louie’s donuts would snuggle up for a nice long visit. There never were any left by lunchtime. Shocking! This was the grand life but we both tend to run to fat very quickly and this habit plumped us up in no time. There we were, plump little partridges (but very happy) in drastic need of exercise with a pool across from our apartment in the opposite direction. Strangely enough, there were never many, if any, people in it after dinner.

Time to make use of the pool, go on a diet and get rid of some flab. We each drank a Carnation Instant Breakfast and a One-A-Day vitamin pill for breakfast. I don’t recall eating lunch but we both lived close to work and these were back in the good old days when lunch hour was an hour and we used to meet at home to, ah, visit. Dinner was one skinned, broiled chicken breast each and salad. Our exercise was swimming laps. I got into the pool and proceeded to do my thing. "What are you doing?" asked my husband. "Swimming", I replied sweetly. My second round of swim lessons began right there and then. Of course, my husband was a great swimmer, had done the Red Cross thing, been a lifeguard, etc. so he did know a thing or two about swimming. By the time our first married summer was over I could swim passably well. Iwas taught to actually kick my legs properly and not scissor kick and find a nice rhythm by humming The Blue Danube to myself as I was gliding along. It worked but to this day, I have to start with the basics and it takes almost the entire summer to get it right once more.

This was our first foray into exercise and healthy living and we’ve been trying to stick with it for the past 33 years. Oh, there’ve been lapses of course but we always come back to some sort of program to keep the fat at bay. My husband gets all the credit for his tenacity to begin and stick with the program over and over again. Kudos to him because he always has to push me along into joining him and I always feel better and grateful once it’s over.

This past summer we’ve been swimming laps at the city pool on a regular basis. My husband goes every Saturday and Sunday morning; I go every other on the weekends I don’t work. We both go twice a week after work. The water has felt wonderfully refreshing after a long, hot day at work and while our swimming regimen hasn’t given us bodies beautiful, it has worked to tone things up quite a bit. Being overly warm more often than not these days, I’ve found myself looking forward to gliding through the water once the workday is over. I know my technique has improved somewhat because these days my husband tells me I look like something that belongs in the water and not something that’s been thrown in. Ah, high praise from he who really taught me to swim!

A Fond Farewell

When I checked back to my journal recently, it hit me with crystal clarity that my journaling odyssey was over...for now. Since I haven't made any entries since September, it's obvious I've shared all the memories, stories and insights that I care to for now. All good things come to an end and my journal has.

However, I want to end this journal of mine by supplying a few last thoughts to tie up a few loose ends that have been dangling since I last wrote anything. This has been a challenging, difficult year for me and my family. Over the summer, I dwelled upon some very rough times but good things have happened to us too.

My son is doing just fine these days. Since my last entry, he has since resumed his driving practice, tested for and received his license. He has purchased his own car and my days of driver training and transport to and from his job are over.

My daughter, after a ten year absence from any further education past high school graduation, has completed her classes, been tested and become a certified phlebotomist. She told us over the years that one day she would further her potential and this has finally has taken place. She has a job lined up right in our home town in our own little hospital. She is wading through the proverbial red tape and as soon as she has all the necessary documentation in hand, she'll be able to begin. I'm so proud of her for what she has accomplished. Over the past decade she has dealt with a marriage that didn't work out, several moves, a daughter, a new, better suited husband and stepson (they've been married for three and a half years) and working very hard to juggle it all.

And myself? I am now a year and four months into my "new" job. Most days I like it well enough; some days I don't. That's normal in any job, isn't it? I still have lots to learn. Sometimes I feel like I really have a handle on all the stuff that goes on and other times, I feel clueless. I take heart in knowing that I certainly know a whole lot more about how things work in this out patient department than I did on day one. I have a long way to go. I still hate the phones but dealing with that aspect of the job has become a bit easier. I never have been nor ever will be a "phone" person. I try to take it one day at a time which is, I think, excellent advice on how to deal with life in general.

I've enjoyed my journaling experience very much. It has given me much pleasure and a creative outlet Ineeded for quite some time. A big thank you to any of you who have followed the adventures of my life in recent years and shared my reminiscences. I might be inspired to continue this one at some point in the future or begin a new one a few months from now or perhaps years.

Best wishes to all for a happy, healthy 2007

Saturday Six - Episode 127

1. You find out that you've just gotten a new job in a different state. Besides your spouse, who is the first person you tell?

My children

2. With the money in your pocket, wallet or purse right now, could you make change for a $20 bill? Could you make change for a $1 bill?   No, to both questions

3. Is this ability (or lack of ability) to make change a typical reflection of how much cash and coins you regularly carry?

Yes

4. Take the quiz: What mythological character are you?

You Are a Centaur

In general, you are a very cautious and reserved person. However, you are also warm hearted, and you enjoy helping others in practical ways. You are a great teacher, and you are really good at helping people get their lives in order. You are very intuitive, and you go with your gut. You make good decisions easily.

5. Are you typically the "heart breaker" or the "broken-hearted" in your relationship history?

I am neither

6. Considering your answer to #5, would you rather be the opposite?

n/a