I am Remiss

I noticed today that it has been quite a while since my last post. I have excuses--lots of them. You want to hear?

I didn't think so. I have to tell you, sometimes working with kids can be very sad. I have a kid that gets the auditory hallucinations (hears things). I can't go into detail, but when the medicine is strong enough to combat the hallucinations, he has these horrible side effects, so the doctor backs the medicine off and the voices come back. And these are horrible voices. I cannot imagine going through my day, working on school work, trying to sleep at night, or play nice with my sibling when a very real sounding voice is in my ear telling me to do things, or just cussing and screaming at me. My heart breaks for this kid. I hate what trouble the brain can be when it doesn't work right. I hate that the kids I work with have to worry about what the voice is going to tell him next rather than having fun. Somedays, I just hate my job.

The Earwick

My husband has had a massive ear infection for the past few days. It really peaked on Sunday, so he decided to try the CVS minute clinic. Not bad. You are in and out, you get to see a nurse practitioner, and you can get your drugs right there in the store. Because of all the swelling, the nurse said the medicine would not get all the way down into his ear canal. So, she put in an earwick. An earwick is this square cottony thing that sucks up the medicine and delivers it into the right place.

Here's the good part, it started to really bug the snot out of my husband today. So he calls me at work, middle of lunch, saying "I got some tweezers, will you meet me out front and pull this thing out." I run out there and pull this inch long, nasty looking thing out of his ear. According to him, immediate relief. Honey, you are really loved--I was grossing out.

A Clean House

Looking back on childhood and adolecence, no one would have pegged me for a neat freak. But here I am now, maybe not truly Obsessively-Compulsively neat, but I definately have an anality about the way I love organization. First example, work. When I first began at my job, I was handed second-hand copies of second-hand copies to be my original forms for to make copies from (my 10th grade English teacher is probably having a stroke right about now from that run-on sentence). The packet was filled with papers that I was supposed to hand to parents and clients for them to fill out. At places, the type was crooked from so many second-hand copies and parts even ran off the page. Did the copier they use have the glass from a fun house? I searched our "forms" area in the H drive of the computer server and finally came up with some neat and pretty originals. Also, (here is the truly anal part) I retyped any forms that were not to be found on the H drive. I actually retyped them. I received quite a bit of flak for doing this. Working with mental health professionals, we all have a tendency to diagnos each other. Many options were tossed around. But here is the catch, although I was called every name in the DSM, they all wanted a copy of my packet of originals. (What could I do? I emailed them to everyone so that they could print it off the laser printer themselves--a second-hand copy just wouldn't do--that's how we got into the mess in the first place).

Second example, home. I actually have a chart for doing chores on a regular basis. A place where we can check off what has been done and what hasn't. The chart includes daily chores, weekly chores, and monthly chores. It tells me everyday that the dishes should be loaded in the dishwasher, that I should sweep, clean out the cat litter and take out the trash. Sadly enough, this chart even tells us to feed the pets. Yes, that's right, in my quest for organization, I have organized my life to the point that whinning puppy and meowing kitty are not reminders to feed, I have to have a chart that tells me to do this.

That being said, I will get off track a bit and say that charts are cool. I love making charts on excel. I have a chart for chores (as I have already said). I have a chart for my weight (sadly the line graph that comes from the chart is an up and down phenomen rather than gradual descent). I have chart for anything I can have a chart for. I really like charts and making charts.

Full Moon

I hesitated to write this blog as the spouse of the person in question tends to frequent here (Hey!!). But this story tells more about my thinking than my friend (I think).

So I have this friend who is an avid cyclist. A serious cyclist. Rides some ungodly amount of miles at some pretty amazing speeds for a bicycle. The other day he was talking about taking a "Full Moon Ride" with his cycling group. This is when I tell on myself. It took me a good two and a half minutes to understand that he was riding by the light of the full moon that was out this particular weekend. But, the image I had stuck in my head was of a group of semi-crazy people riding with their rear ends hanging out for the "Full Moon" effect.

This is certainly not the only processing issue I have had this week, but it is the funniest. Thanks TC for the humorous image in the middle socializing in Sunday School.

Quilt Show

I recently attended the American Quilter's Guild's national quilt show. I love quilt shows. I can get ideas and be inspired to continue working on my current project. I have be working on a rose pattern quilt for a while now. It is nothing fancy, just nine-patch interchanged with plain blocks. The cool part is that it goes from light in the center to dark on the outside. I feel like a big cheater though, I machine pieced it. The long and the short of the story is this; I am a purest when it comes to quilting. I know there are some absolutely beautiful quilts out there that are machine pieced and quilted, but I have always preferred and admired the quilts that are hand pieced and quilted. (Just in case you are wondering, this one though machine pieced is being hand quilted.) I did one other machine quilt, it was the first quilt I ever did and I feel that I short changed the people I gave it to.

So, my reasoning for attending the quilt show was to get inspiration to finish my quilt. It didn't work. Instead, I picked up a new craft. Well new to me. I am sure that my husband is flabbergasted that I can go to a show dedicated to one of my favorite crafts and come home with a new one, or maybe he just knows with me a new craft is inevitable. I love crafts and working with my hands. In the list of currents would be cross-stitch, quilting, crochet, stained glass, and now, needle punch. The list of "tried but didn't quite catch my fancy" is much longer.

I am very easily distracted. I usually have two or three projects going on at one time. One needs a workshop (stained glass). One is for in front of the TV (quilting, cross-stitch, crochet, needle punch). One is for travel (cross-stitch, crochet, and needle punch). My current projects is of course needle punch, my quilt, and a stained glass piece that I designed. Maybe I'm ADHD?????

Something to be Re-Learned

Did your mother (or father) ever tell you "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all"? Well mine did. As a matter of fact for a couple of years I think it was her favorite thing to say. Being my Girl Scout leader, she had to keep us sometimes catty girls in line. She would also say it to me and my brother all the time. I think it was her way of telling us to Shut Up without actually saying Shut Up.

As I have gotten older, I have realized, either this is something that adults really don't mean or they have thrown this lesson completely out the window. How much better would the world be if this was our model for all we said. If you can't say anything nice, then shut it. I got this epiphany in the shower, so follow me for a minute, my logic in the shower is not always sound. IF this statement was true, then really where would the world be. Think of the news on TV. They would have nothing to say as most of what they have to report and of course, comment on is the horrible state of the world or the failure of the latest politician. Newspapers too would be in a quandary. Take it off the world and bring it down to your family (oh no, getting personal aren't I). My husband and I had an intense negotiation last night, as married people sometimes do. I confess (but don't tell anyone) I have a tendency to focus on the negative, but what if my vocabulary was only limited to the positive. Wouldn't our "negotiation" have been much smoother. I know I am getting a little bit crazy. I am proposing an entire paradigm shift in thinking. Never going to happen you say. Ha! IF this statement were true, you couldn't say to me "never going to happen" because that's not nice.

If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. Wise words to live by, starting with me.

Glad to be Married

Can I just say, I am glad to be married. And this is not one of those thing I say because my husband is sooooo wonderful (although he is). I am saying this because I am glad not to be dating. I have a friend, not single by choice, rather single by lack of choice. And she was set up with friend of a friend's boyfriend. (I used "friend" entirely too much in the last two sentences). Now, she got the call back (great!), they made tentative plans and he was supposed to call back "beginning of next week" to solidify. What does that mean? "Beginning of next week." Is that Sunday, Monday, Tuesday? Surely it would not mean after Tuesday, because after all Wednesday is hump day, it is the middle of the week. I have to tell you, I have no idea what these dating phrases mean.

Here's another example. Another friend is doing the single thing from lack of choice. A co-worker wants to set her up. She asked my opinion. I have no clue at all. I have been married for the last 10 years. So here I am left shrugging my shoulders unable to give any opinion at all. I sympathize with all my single friends and must say I'm glad not to be in your situation.

Marriage is one of those amazing things. It is dynamic and alive and takes you by surprise all the time. If a marriage is good it can be such a self-esteem booster. Here is this man that knows (I mean KNOWS) all of my faults. He has seen me at my worst (and my best). And yet, everyday, he chooses me. I don't have to worry about "beginning of the week" or any other obscure dating phrase. I know his nuances. I know that when he says "beginning of the week" he means Monday, maybe by afternoon on Tuesday.

I am glad to be married.

Friends

I did not keep touch with many friends from High School. As a matter of fact there is only one friend from High School that I now still consider a friend. Before you think that this is all sad, it's not. We just went our separate ways, simple as that. But this one friend, we always managed to stay in touch. We grew up together, I have no memory earlier than knowing her.

We were reminisencing the other day about some of these childhood memories. Every year we seemed to be bunk mates at Church Camp. Me on top and AB on the bottom bunk. When we would wake up, I thought I was so clever to hang my head down and holler "Speak to me, Amy. Speak to me!!" It is good to just sit back and remember every so often.

Re-Ed

Because of where I work I belong to the American Re-Education Association. Re-Ed is this philosophy of practice more than a prescribed method of practice. It is based on 12 principles that seem basic and very common sense until you consider that these kids don't have these principles in daily life.
"1. Life is to be lived now, not in the past, and lived in the future only as a present challenge.
2. Trust between a child and adults is essential, the foundation on which all other principles rest, the gule that holds teaching and learning together, the beginning point for Re-Education.
3. Competence makes a difference; children and adolescents should be helped to be good at something and especially at schoolwork.
4. Time is an ally, working on the side of growth in a period of development when life has a tremendous forward thrust.
5. Self-control can be taught and children and adolescents help to manage their behavior without the development of psychodynamic insight; and symptoms can an should be controlled by direct address, not necessarily by an uncovering therapy.
6. The cognitive competence of children and adolescents can be considerably enhanced; they can be taught generic skills in the management of their lives as well as strategies for coping with the complex array of demands placed upon them by family, school, community, or job; in other words, intelligence can be taught.
7. Feelings should be nurtured, shared spontaneously, controlled when necessary, expressed when too long repressed, and expolored with trusted others.
8. The constant challenge in a Re-Ed program is to help groups build cultures that sustain children and adolescents in their efforts to manage their lives in ways satisfying to themselves and satisfactory to others.
9. Ceremony and ritual give order, stability, and confidence to trouble children and adolescnets, whose lives are often in considerable disarray.
10. The body is the armature of the self, the physical self around which the psychological self is constructed.
11. Communities are important for children and youth, but the uses and benefits of cummunity must be experienced to be learned.
12. In growing up, a child should know some joy in each day and look forward to some joyous event for the morrow."

(I did not wish this would take so much time to type when I started)

So, I just returned from their conference. 4 days of being around adults, who like myself, are stuck in school. I had some good experiences at this conference and some not so good. The workshops I attended, Top-notch. I got some great ideas for working with the kids I work with. My personal favorite is "Let's Play". We did all these group building activities. I am not sure yet how to apply them to individual therapy, but have no fear, I am very creative. First was a simple variation on the name game, you catch the ball, thank the person by name who threw it to you, say your name then toss the ball. Then we figure who we threw the ball to and who threw it us and then we timed how quickly we went threw the sequence. Then We took suggestions on how the speed it up and impliment it. There were 50 or so of us and our first run was 2 minutes. Our last run through (6 times later) was 5.8 sec. So, there was a sense of accomplishment, communication, problem solving. Good stuff.

The not so good experience, you may ask? I will start off by saying I am not a drinker. I may have an occasional adult beverage, Margaritas are a weakness of mine, but one has always been my limit. With that being said, each evening was a opportunity to cut lose and many people took the opportunity. I had a strange man banging on my door in the middle of the night, and kept trying his key in the door. With the safety bar firmly in place, I asked if I could help him. Apparently, he thought that it was his room. So, he then began trying all the doors along the hallway. I did not realize that there were so many people in my profession that felt the need to cut loose. Makes me wonder... Were they awake for the 8:00 am session the next morning or is this the reason that those sessions were sparse????

Blood Donation

I gave blood today. If you are squemish, I have a horror story so don't read this post. This is not about today, but rather the last time I gave blood. This would have been about 5 years ago and was not with the Red Cross (just to clarify). I was a seasoned donor by this time and had no worries. I went through the question process, no problem. I got the prick in the finger, not a big deal. Then I get out into the heart of the big bus to give blood. The lady chooses my right arm to use, seemed okay to me. And then instead of sticking the needle in horizontal to my vein, she sticks the needle in sideways. I don't know her reasoning behind this, she may have had a good one, but the problem came when the needle kept slipping out of the vein. It was still in my arm, just not in the vein. She would notice the bag was not filling with blood as it should and she would twist the needle back and forth until she found the vein again. I am not the fainting type, but this put me to the test. All in all she did this about 5 times before the blood finally clotted in the needle and she had to give up. My arm was purple from 1/2 way up my forearm to 1/2 way up my bicep.

So, because of this ordeal, it took me awhile to work up the nerve to return to the blood donation world. But they were having a blood drive a work. Seemed like a perfect opportunity. I couldn't let them down. I volunteered. After all I was going to be in Nashville for Defensive Driving (work related, not personal) anyway that day, so why not. Needless to say, I was a little bit nervous. And I will start by saying it finished well, without much pain, and they got a full pint off of me. With that being said, I think the person working on me was new. She was good, but unsure. The site doesn't even have a bruise. But she just didn't have her routine down just yet. Little things that I noticed because I have given blood a few times before. She lost the tape that she had put out to hold the needle in place. She picked the bag off the hanger before getting the sample vials for testing. She didn't take the squeezey thing out of my hand until I handed it to her when leaving. She left the tape on my arm and tried to pull out the needle. After getting the needle clear, she left uncovered. And worst of all, in my opinion, she did not instruct me to the cokes and cookies. As I said before, non are serious infractions in the blood donation world, just things that I noticed.

High Faluting Language

I had a conversation with a friend and she commented on the difference in my choice of words between what I say and what I write. Apparently I like to use a few 5 dollar words when I post and I keep it simple when I talk.

I have a few theories about that:
1. I must have some sort of speech impediment. I don't stutter, but I do have a tendency to stumble over my words when speaking. I have a tendency to self correct in my head and only say out loud words that I know I can speak with eloquence.

2. I blame therapy training. I went through 4 years of college and 3 years of graduate school. During this time I wrote gobs and gobs of papers on majorly impressive stuff. I went through diagnosing classes to learn the multiaxial assessment of the DSM. In Research Design I learned about significance and generalizing, correlation, blah, blah, blah. Then in group dynamics, well you get the idea. I learned a new language of jargon. And learning this language was tough, but I worked hard and I learned it. Then it came time for my first session with people. It was in my practicum. I was nervous. Not only was it my first session with a group of people, but we were being video taped so that my supervisor could watch it later and critique the session. It went well. I thought that I was on top of things. Then my practicum group brings their video tapes to supervision and I put mine in and push play. The first critique was, "I'm not sure your clients are going to understand these words, you must adapt yourself to them, not ask them to learn your language." Something like that. I had spent 7 years learning a language that I wasn't supposed to use. So I went through my practicum time learning to translate. I knew the book term, but to communicate, I have to simplify.

3. I like to pass myself off in my blog as smarter than I really am. No explaination necessary I think.

Unsolicited Advice

I have a complaint. Today, I gave the ultimate advice giver some advice. My mom has the philosophy in life thatshe is just giving you her two cents worth and who couldn't use two cents. She has always loved giving advice and being slightly nosey. The advice is not the problem, at least not 100% of it. If she could just give advice, drop the subject, and then allow you to make the decision, there would be no problem. Unfortunately, she gives advice in such a way that does not allow for any other legitimate alternative. Usually this advice will be repeated 2-3 x a week (in ever increasing increments) until the advice is followed. I have taken the slightly indirect, sometimes sneaky way of dealing with the advice. Slightly squint my eyes and look off to the side (like in deep thought) and then nod slightly as if the wisdom is sinking in and then do my own thing. 90% of the time, Mom is appeased and I am free to do what I wish. The other 10% of the time we go through a period of hostility and annoyance, because even if the advice is good I tend to be stubborn. Of course if the advice is good, it is usually seconded by my father who my husband and I both agree has great wisdom. (Clarification--my mom has wisdom, her presentation is what is stinky).

So, given this, I am very hesitant to give advice unless asked. Tonight, on my Birthday, I took advantage. The side story goes something like this. On my trip recently to Colorado to visit my brother, his wife, and my neice, the advice giving of my Mom came up. Her advice created anger and withdrawal in my brother (to say the least) and in his wife, it created hurt feelings and also some withdrawal. With this in mind, finding out about Mom and Dad's upcoming trip to Colorado, I braved the unsolicited advice world. I asked about their upcoming trip. I reminded my mother about how sensitive my brother could be about perceived criticisms. I laid the bait down thick on this hook. She wasn't biting. So I get a little more straight forward. Just refrain from advice, especially unsolicited. Still wasn't biting--she wanted to go into how those criticisms are truly just "perceived" on the part of my brother. Oh no, my husband could no longer stay out either, "You have to admit that you come across as critical," says my husband.

She did not say much else. I mentioned the importance of acceptance and not pushing (I think) in getting them to come here. I meant visiting more, Mom thought I meant moving here. And we were off topic.

So here is a little prayer going out that after some thought the unsolicited advice to the queen of unsolicited advice will sink in.

30

I turned 30 today. My co-workers and friends all are ready to extend their sympathy. I'm thrilled. I did my 30's in my 20's. Meaning, I got married early, we chased the American dream and bought a house, we went through all sorts of infertility crap, I behaved well because I was a ministers wife (still a wife, he's no longer the minister). And now I'm am really facing my 30's and there is no big plan. The 30's are wide open. No regrets from my 20's are chasing me. I am loving the idea of thirty-something. Age is not so scary today.

" Gilmore Girls"

Have you ever really liked something, but could not explain why? This is what Gilmore Girls is to me. It is in no way uplifting, I do not share their values, and although I have heard the arguement that the mother and daughter relationship is something to be envied, I don't see it. And yet, I am addicted. Not only to the Tuesday night on the WB, but also the reruns daily on ABC Family (I don't know what time they come on, that is the beauty of Tivo). So the premise:

The Youngest: Rouri. You get to see what a "normal" teenager life is like. Except, there is nothing normal about this kid. She is astoundingly smart and mature (especially considering her lack of role models). In High School she is accepted into this prestigious prep school, which is good because her life-long dream is to go to Harvard (as it turns out, she goes to Yale, drops out after being arrested for stealing a boat, but goes back to Yale when dumped by the boy she stole the boat with). The thing is, for a smart and mature girl, she makes some very stupid decisions. She has read every book in the planet, and knows many more words than I ever will, but she is ruled by her emotions. (BALANCE people).

The Mother: Laurelai. She got pregnant at 16 and gave birth to Rouri. The problem, she is determined to be the opposite of her mother and be her kid's best friend. Unfortunately, this means that her maturity got frozen at 16, at least until her daughter caught up with her. She manages to screw up many, many relationships, because she is pining for the high school sweet heart that knocked her up. This woman moved to a small town to escape her own mother and eventually became the owner of an inn. (How she could qualify for a business loan when only one season before she could not qualify for a second mortgage is beyond my comprehension)

The Grandmother: Emily. Rich to a tee. Manipulative to no end. Sometimes you think that she may be the normal one and then she pulls some mess and you realize, no, she is her own set of crazy. She is so particular, that she cannot even keep a maid for more than a week or two at a time. She is so out of touch with what real life is about, she is wrapped up in DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) meetings and charity functions. Her great disappointment in life and the thorn in her side, her daughter Laurelai. Her consolation prize, her granddaughter Rouri, who she is determined will be the one to follow in her foot steps.

As I said, I am addicted. I have never seen such unhealthy relationships (with the people in those relationships so oblivious to the dysfunction) and heard so many comments to the contrary. Case in point: Today's episode ends with Rouri coming to her mother to tell her that she is thinking about "IT". That she is thinking about having sex with a boy that she has been dating for 2 months (having just recently breaking up with a boy that she dated and remained chaste with for 2 years). This boy is the definition of bad news. He was sent to live with his Uncle because his wild behavior in New York was getting him into big trouble. I have heard it said, "Isn't that great that she is comfortable coming to her mother and her mother does not judge her." Now if I had a daughter, or I had this conversation with my mother it would have gone something like this: Daughter, "I'm thinking about having sex with this boy." Mother, "Over my dead body, you are never seeing him again." Or at the very least, "You will have a chaperone at all times if you wish to continue seeing this boy." But in the world of Gilmore Girls, the mother is so scared of ruining the relationship with her daughter that she says nothing at all. Not even a "Think about this first." or "I believe you are making a big mistake." or even, "Your virginity is a precious gift that you can only give once, don't give it away too soon."

I see too many parents in real life that want to be buddies with their kids for me to be fooled into thinking that it works. I have had parents say, "What can I say, she/he knows that I did it." SO WHAT??????? As adults do we not now have greater wisdom than when we were 16 years old? And if we as teenagers did not have adults with wisdom to guide us, is it fair to refrain now from guiding future generations?

Here's what I think;
1. There is a fine line between parenting and friendship. And sometimes they are the same thing, but if it is ever a choice between the two, the parent side should win.

2. NO is not a four letter word. It can be said without being abusive or hateful. It can actually make a positive difference in someone's live. It is not "the saddest experience you will ever know."

3. Values are meant to be passed down. What I feel to be right and wrong, regardless if I did it or not, is valid to teach.

4. Relationship is key. Unless you have a knowledge of the person and a relationship of love established first, the discipline will really be difficult to handle.

"State of Fear"

I just finished reading this book. I usually love Michael Crichton books and on the one hand this was no different. There was a lot of action and had a page turner plot. It doesn't take a lot to please me with a fiction book. Just make it interesting and MC accomplished that no problem.

On the otherhand, I felt as if I were reading some propaganda. I have to tell you I get quite sick of celebreties getting on their soap box and going off. This was a little different. It focused on that ever debated topic--global warming. Also different from the norm is he actually sited scientific journal articles to the arguments. While reading I could hear MC's voice speaking through intellegence agent Kenner, who of course, is the only character that seems to have all the information. Could a real life person just pull out stats like that from his butt? Not to mention how completely ignorant and crazy the environmentalist were portrayed in the book.

I do appreciate that MC did lay bare his biases through the Author's Message at the conclusion of the book. "A novel such as State of Fear, in which so many divergent views are expressed, may lead the reader to wonder where, exactly, the author stands on these issues." Not really Mr. Crichton. You spoke well through Agent Kenner. I did agree with MC on several points though.

I do not believe that the effects of CO2 are truly and fully known, though to deny they are increasing would be foolish. I do believe that surface warming does come from human activity, especially given that cities are hotter than outlying rural areas. I do believe that Americans should set the example of cutting waste and pollution, but do not need to force this on developing countries. I believe that we need a new environmental movement with more scientist getting the press than lawyers.

This was a good book, if anything to spark new discussion on a worn out topic--global warming. I would recommend it.

Stained Glass

I do stained glass. And I have to confess I become very philosophical while cutting and souldering the pieces. And when I get philosophical, I sometimes get a little cheesy (there is the warning for you).

I view working with stained glass very much like working with people. First, glass is at the same time amazingly fragile and hard at the same time. There is no question that glass is fragile. It cracks, it shatters, it explodes. But have you ever been surprised by glass. Perhaps you have dropped a dish and found out that it doesn't break. Glass is hard. In much the same way, people are amazingly fragile and hard at the same time. I am always astounded by how resilient the kids I work with are. They survive so much and still thrive. Then I have seen the same kid that has survived abuse and practical torture, break down by a slight from a friend. Glass is strong and difficult to break (and work with), but score the glass and watch the crack grow.

Second, there are many different types of glass. Even at a limited shop such as Hobby Lobby, you can find many different varieties. You can get transparent, opaque, translucent, pearlized, waterglass, baroque... Just like people. They are so varied. Some are easier to work with then others, some are more beautiful than others, some are intracate and complicated, some are simple. And don't fool yourself that what you see is what you get. Even though transparents let more light through the glass, they have a tendency to distort whatever image is behind it. People also have a tendency to seem transparent, but distort what you see. Others are more opaque. They don't want to let anyone in.

Third, you have to make pieces and put them together to make a beautiful creation. Life hurts. Just as the craftsman cuts the glass to shape the pieces to fit his plan, life has a tendency to cut us, to shape together the different pieces needed for the final product. Then the glass has to be souldered together. Another painful process, using a hot iron to melt the soulder into place. Sometimes we have to go through a painful time, maybe not even understanding what is going on, but afterwards, it just fits, it just makes since.

Forth, the finished product has to be clean and displayed in the best place for that piece. People shine better when they are where they fit. You cannot force a large stained glass in the back of a closet and expect it to look its best. Also you have to give attention to what its characteristics are and where it would look best. Sometimes I make a stained glass with a place in mind and other times I have done a stained glass and would have to wait to hang it when I know I have the right place for it. Either way, the key is that it fits in that place. People too have to find their right place to really be at their best. This means that the person has to know themselves well before making big placement decisions: career, spouse, etc.

Babies

I love babies. Most especially, I love my niece that I just met. She is 3 months and very expressive. She has so much personality. I went out to Colorado as I already explained. It was a great trip. And most importantly I got in some baby-time.

See, I can't have babies. I'm not saying that to bum you out. It's something that I have come to terms with this year and I'm very excited about adoption. More than likely we will be adopting older kids rather than babies, so I try to get as much baby time as possible. So, in order to have some bragging rights, here is a Lily picture to ooh and aah over.

Colorado Rain

I'm in Denver CO visiting my neice. Too cute for words. The only glitch with the trip so far--the rain. It was raining when the plane landed, making for a bumpy ride. It has been raining ever since. I will have to have some pics when I get back and show you just how cute my neice is.

It takes all Kinds

A friend emailed me this web connection:

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/bk.html

It took me to a sight that had recordings of 911 calls. I don't know if they are all real, but this one cracked me up. The gist--a lady called 911 because she was unhappy with the way that Burger King had fixed her hamburger and wanted the operator to send someone out to make the manager fix it correctly.

I get a little tired of people who seem to think that the world revolves around them. I understand the frustration of a wrong order, but cannot imagine ever thinking that this frustration entitles me to call 911 and tie up their lines. Let us define what emergency is for those that have forgotten since school. Is somebody bleeding, is somebody choking, is somebody collapsed or even hurt (feelings don't count).

What a day.

Gross

My dog Delmar is part Rat Terrier. One of his favorite pastimes out in the yard is to dig up moles and kill them. My husband and I have noticed that Delmar has been smelling a lot when he comes inside for the night. Today I found out why. I was mowing the grass in the back yard and I ran over a dead mole. This, of course, scattered the mole and a horrendous smell was the result. I started gagging and ran inside to get some water and away from the smell. The other dog, Miriam, actually did throw up. The smell was bad!!! I go out with my husband to see if the mole was still stuck in the blade of the mower. No, but there was a piece of flesh on the wheel. By this time, the flies were beginning to swarm. Thousands of them in the yard and on the spot on the wheel. So we hose down the mower and I go inside, still feeling slightly queezy. As I get myself some water I look out at the lawn. Delmar and Miriam were inspecting the "mole." They would sniff a spot then roll around on top of it. Over and Over again. Periodically, Delmar would stand up and pee over the spot. I do believe my dogs will be getting a bath today.