Tick Tock

Last night at work went by super fast. I had a bunch of paperwork that I had been putting off for a while and so I played catch up. After about 5 minutes of working I looked up at the clock and noticed it was 0530. I haven't had a night go by so quickly since that one time when I went to work sick and was unconscious for most of it.

I took some photos of ICE STORM '09. Nothing spectacular but I'll share a few of my favorites. We got a pretty good sheeting of ice around here, but it was gone by 11am or so. The air was clear, the sky was clear and the color was magnificent.

Things I Like About Winter

...

Sigh...

News reporters that are reporting on the weather should only be allowed to read from a script and not be allowed to comment on things like their 10 dollar hat that they are glad they bought or, OMG there is ice on the ground! And, look at our CAR we've been driving in all day and OMG my soda is frozen! Tell me what roads are backed up, show me the accidents, give me the freaking information I really tuned in to see instead of your tiring and pitiful attempts at getting an anchor job. And OMG do you HAVE to call it ICE STORM '09? Seriously... I can't believe I haven't turned off the TV yet.

Ice Ice Baby

No work for me tonight. It's 820pm and my front porch has a nice layer of ice developing... lots of sirens in the last 15 minutes or so... electricity flickering... the sound of ice pellets and freezing rain hitting my windows... my car a nice green ice cube. It's been many years since this area has had a really bad ice storm. Like snow days, it seemed we had a lot more ice storms when I was a kid. My most vivid memories of childhood are of snow and ice days. They always seemed so magical. In fact, they still do. I can't wait to get up in the morning and go outside and take some icy shots. I hope the sun comes out to light up the icicles.

A sincere thank you to those who worked in my stead.

New Employee At Work

We had a new officer sworn in at work last week. He's been riding out for a little over a month, but last week it was official. He's the sweetest guy, a very hard worker and I've loved working with him this past month. He's from the Netherlands and he's quite large. He looks a lot meaner than he is, too. His name is Nero... and he's quickly become a part of my second home. For the small city that I work for, this was quite a monumental occasion. I never thought I'd ever get to work with someone like him, and I feel extremely honored to do so.

Mom Update #3

We had a good morning yesterday, but by evening time mom was no longer able to keep anything down, not even jello. Don't know if she will get to go home today or not.

Mom Update #2

Went to see my mom this morning. She said she had a bad pain night, but mostly because she was waiting too long to push her morphine drip button. My dad is there now pushing the button for her every ten minutes or so. I pushed it a couple of times while I was there. Nothing like doping your mom up.

Mom Update

The surgery went great. She's got a brand new hip and we all expect my mom to dance out of the hospital on Sunday. She was uncomfortable after the surgery, but the pain was much milder and different than what she's been dealing with for over a year. I think after hurting for so long, it might take my mom a bit to get used to not hurting. She was still a bit dopey, but seemed to be in good spirits and thankful that it was over with.

...and now I breathe a big sigh of relief.

Thursday Thoughts

My mum is getting a new hip tomorrow. I'm going to go hang out with her today, although she doesn't know it yet.

It's been a long hard road for my Mom these past 5 years or so. She is working on her 6th year as a breast cancer survivor. We all say Woo Hoo to that. But within the last year she's had some major hip issues and it has gotten to a point where she can hardly even move her leg unless she is using a walker. A couple of months ago, we noticed the atrophy that has affected the calf muscles of her weak leg as well. The time had just come for this.

My Mom started Weight Watchers way back in the early 80's. Today's Weight Watchers is nothing like it used to be, except for the meetings. I went with my Mom on several occasions when I was young. Not because I needed to, though. No, back then, unlike now, I was skinny. Anyway... when my Mom started Weight Watchers, she also started power walking and she lost a ton of weight. She is 5 feet tall. My Dad and I are 5'7" and 6'0" and when we three would go to the mall, my Dad and I would be exhausted trying to keep up with her mini legs that worked like tiny pistons in an engine. She's been very active since that time.

So it's hard to watch her move now. It hurts my heart... and I have seen the pain eating away at hers. She's nervous about the surgery. We all are. But she's a strong lady and I know she can't wait to start walking... really walking... again. And I can't wait to see her walk, or sit, or move, or talk... without pain.

I'll see ya here in a little while, Mom.

Happy Birthday, Son

Today, my first born is 23. This mom is so proud of all the things he has accomplished in such a short amount of time.

I can't help but think back to when I was my children's ages. When I was his age, he was already 5 years old with a little sister who was 3. I can remember thinking when he turned 19, that he was the same age as his dad when we got married. I can remember thinking when my daughter was 17 that I was her age when I got married. Each time I think about that, I can't help but wonder how my parents survived my being such a young wife and mother. I felt much older at 17 then my kids appeared to be at the same age. But then again, when I look at my son today, I still see him as a young child. I can remember asking my Mom not too long ago... "Does he look like a man to you?" This was after I had seen my oldest nephew that I had not seen in several years, who is only about 3 months older than my son and who looked very much like a man. My mom assured me that my son most definitely looked his age and that I would probably always see my son as a boy. I wonder if my 105 year old grandmother sees my 68 year old dad that way.

This past year, my son bought his first new car. A Mazda RX8. He became a store manager at the high end grocery store he's worked at for several years. He's a highly accomplished musician, working on the last year of college with a degree in business (I think). This child of mine... this man... has a very bright future. And nothing calms a mother's heart more then knowing her son will be successful to the point that he will be able to afford the old folks home he'll eventually have to pay for his momma to stay in when she's old. Hey... that's why we have kids, right?

Happy Birthday, J. I love you like only a proud mother can. Have a most blessed day, my dear.

J and D(my son's new "friend") at the Mav's game:

Myrene Law aka My Nanny

I could fill pages and pages about my Nanny. I'll try and keep it short.

I helped celebrate her 105th birthday yesterday. When my Dad and I brought her down to the room full of people (local residents, friends and family)I instantly started to tear up. I wasn't sad... not at all. I just had a moment of an overwhelming sense of pride to be related to this strong, independent woman.

There are two specific times in my life that I remember where my Nanny was semi famous. The first was when I was still a teenager, the second when she turned 103.

There used to be a small private airport less than a mile from her(this)house. She would sometimes take me there and we would sit in the parking area and watch the planes land and take off. When they would fly over her house, they were usually very low since the airport was so close.

One day, when I was still a teenager, my Dad got a call from her letting him know that she just had one of those planes land in her yard. The pilot was shook up but not injured. My Nanny gave him a glass of water. One of the plane's wings was about 3 inches from her house. The news people came out and she was on it. I searched the WWW but was unable to find anything on this event. I guess, "when I was still a teenager", was too long ago.

When my Nanny turned 103, somehow the Jay Leno show found out and asked her to come out to be on the show. She had been featured in The Star Telegram and they wrote up a very good story on her. I'm thinking somehow the Leno Show found out through the paper. She politely declined the invitation to fly out to Burbank. She's a well traveled lady and she knows what it's like to travel and felt she just didn't have the strength to do something like that. She was quite famous around her retirement community and the paper came back out and interviewed her about turning down the Jay Leno Show. About a month after that, Gary Cogill from a local news station came out on Valentine's Day and did a big Valentine's Day story on her. It was SO freaking sweet.

Yesterday there were no news people. Just some guy in a tux singing songs from the 20's and 30's karaoke style. My Nanny said she didn't prefer that "contemporary style" music. He had a very nice voice, though. Kind of Frank Senatra-ish, but not as croonery. And although the whole thing had a very cheesy atmosphere to it and I wondered out loud to my mother on how much he was getting paid, the other attendees of the party seemed to enjoy him. Plus there were cake and balloons and a birthday crown.

The picture of the little doggy below has a sad, but sweet story. Her owner was once a resident of the community but she passed away several years ago. The dog was adopted by the whole place and as you can tell, she fits in quite nicely with her grandma sweater, painted toes, and her old lady walk. I'm not sure how old the sweet thing is, but she's up there with the rest of the gals and guys that live there. She was out and about enjoying the party as well.

HOW TO PARTY SENIOR STYLE

Baby, It's Cold Outside

I'm sitting here trying to remember what it was like to have central heating and all I can remember is a high electricity bill. I've been awake since about 5am and now it's 0645 and I've finally gotten the temperature in here up to 60 degrees. Don't get me wrong... I love my Dearborn heaters. They keep me from freezing and it's obvious that Spazz and the Dearborn heater have a very intimate relationship. And do I really have any right to complain about how cold it is here? I mean... it's 20 degrees here and sure, that's cold. But it's SO not -20 degrees... that was NEGATIVE 20 degrees... which it is right now in some places of this country. How does anything keep working in that temperature? My car would implode.

In this area of the world we often get cheated by old man Winter. We get plenty of cold air and wind, but we rarely get the snow. I think if it's going to go to all the trouble of getting so cold here, we should get the snow as well and if we don't get the snow, then it should always be 70 degrees... with just a hint of a soft breeze to carry the scents of the year round exotic flowers in bloom and the sounds of distant jungle animals. Yes, I DO live in my own little fantasy world over here.

My grandmother... my Nanny... Myrene to her friends... is 105 today. This evening I will be attending her birthday party. I've offered to be her designated driver. I've heard rumors that if she gets one more DUI they are going to put one of those breathalyzer thingies on her walker. She swears she wasn't drunk and that the plants she had growing on her windowsill really WERE Japanese Maples.

The Sounds...

...of the season premier of American Idol are echoing in my living room. I'm very happy.

Looky Daddy Dot Com

One of the blogs I follow is called Looky Daddy! It is hosted by a stay at home dad that goes by the name of Brian Sargent, or "The Dad" to his readers. He has two twin daughters who are 3, I believe, and an older daughter who is in the 3rd grade who was recently just diagnosed with epilepsy. Aside from the heartbreaking stories of his oldest daughter, Mr. Sargent's humor is undeniable. For a quick sampling, may I suggest visiting his FAQs page.
The following video is of his twins girls going off to preschool for the first time. I laughed, I cried, I felt his joy and his pain. You will, too.

The First Day of Preschool from Brian Sargent on Vimeo.

Conundrum...

...is a word I will use in my head but never out loud.

I have a decision to make. Thought I would throw it out here to see what others might think about it. This may get long and rambly. Just a warning.

So I told you about rescuing my photo albums from the depths of hell... I mean, my garage not too long ago. All my children's baby pictures... a few pictures of me when I was WAY young. I had a box of tossed in photos and one day I decided to organize them all. Took a while, but I got most of them in order and in photo albums. Not long afterward, the digital camera age hit big time and I've only added a few pictures since. Anyway... I sat down the other day and opened each and every one of them and looked at all the pictures very slowly and brushed away the cobwebs from long ago memories.

Towards the end of the albums I came across the reason the photo albums had been abandoned for so long in the garage. There were pictures of HIM... still pasted and covered in clear plastic as they were when they were lovingly placed there about 8 years ago.

I can only assume that my subconscious was guiding me the day I brought the photo albums in because the 9th of this month marked 5 years since the day he walked out the door. I've noticed my subconscious is evil that way.

Seeing the pictures of him, of us, of places and times that were some of the happiest moments in my life... it was odd. In a way it was very painful to look, and to remember. But I know the pain part comes from seeing what was lost. The memory itself, the moments in time captured by a photo... all of those are good. Aside from the day he left and onwards, and the 9 days leading up to it, all the memories of him are good. Which brings me to my conundrum.

Should I take out the photos of him? If I take out the photos of him, should I include any photos of him and my kids, because there are many. Should I cut him out of those photos and leave the kids? Should I take out the photos he took of me while we were someplace special and any photos taken while there? Should I leave them in because they were very special moments in my life?

I drunk called him, or emailed him (can't remember... can't remember a lot of things during that time) one time... well... one of a few times... and told him that I had taken out all of his pictures from my photo albums and I wasn't going to cover up the holes where his pictures were so I would be reminded of the holes he had left in my heart. Kind of makes you wanna party with me, huh?

I asked my daughter these questions and her answer was to ask me how the pictures made me feel when I looked at them. I immediately said, "not good". So she said, "You should take them out then". Then I said, "what if I want to look at them later?" And then she said, "Then leave them in". We help each other like this often.

What would you do?

Four Cats And Me

Spazz - I had just made the decision to leave my job and pursue other avenues. I was burned out. After almost 12 years of being a dispatcher, I was done. Every time 911 would ring, I would just cringe. This was mid 2001. I remember thinking of Spazz as my going away present. One of the officers came in through the front door and held it open and this meowing little thing with huge ears came in with him. The officer said, "Here you go. I found something for you." I picked him up and held him the rest of that night and took him home with me. I carried him in a basket to work with me several nights after that. He never tried to crawl out of it. Our city had a fair not long after I got Spazz. I loaded him up in his basket and we walked the fair together. People oooed and aaaahed over him. You know... the whole kitten in a basket held tilt thing. I have kitten pictures of Spazz, but they are not digital and I really don't feel like dismantling my photo album to TRY and scan these tiny photos. Look at these full grown pictures of him and imagine him 1/4 the size he is now, with the same sized ears.
Jynxy - I'm at my new job. I've made a few friends while I'm there. One of the girls I worked with, her husband was in pharmacist school down in Houston and she told me of this calico cat that hung out at her husband's house where he was staying while he was down there. She told me the kitty was pregnant and she talked about me getting one of the kittens. I laughed it off not really thinking seriously about it. I was co-habitating with my boyfriend by this time and we already had Spazz and his evil, nasty feline. The kittens came and of course I weakened at the thought of a kitten in the house and I agreed to take one. About a month or so after Jynx came home, my boyfriend and his evil, nasty feline both left. Jynxy had this certain way that he would lay with me at night. I would lie on my right side with my right arm extended out and he would crawl into the crook of my arm, put his arms over my shoulder and I would wrap the rest of my arm around him... like you might hold a teddy bear. During my darkest days and the dreadfully quiet nights that followed the sudden departure of, what I thought of at the time, my entire world, he would comfort me. He always seemed to know when I needed it the most. He still sleeps there ever so often. He stills seems to know.Jynxy's favorite toy when he was younger was a rabbit's foot. He eventually tore that thing to shreds.Spazz and Jynx used to best friends. But Spazz is best friends will ALL the kittens I have brought home over the years.Ex-boyfriend's Evil Feline
Libertine - The new job didn't work out and eventually I came back to work at my old job. It was like coming home. My second day back, our Animal Control person came in with this kitten that she was bottle feeding. This very tiny, very colorful fluffball. I don't think I have ever seen anything as cute since. It was love at first sight with me. Libby came home with me that day. She became my homecoming present. She was only about two weeks old. Her eyes had just started to open. She took to the bottle well and she is still the sweetest thing, yet very mischievous.This is how small she was compared to Spazz. I was terrified of squishing her.

Cricket - Cricket came about a year after Libby. Someone had brought up this kitten to my work because they thought a car had hit it in a parking lot. The person that saw this happen was the one that brought it to the station. I was not working at the time. The dispatcher that was working had called the Animal Control person and the Animal Control person asked that dispatcher if I was coming in and she told her that I was indeed coming in that night... so the Animal Control person (knowing FULL WELL how weak I am around kittens) decided not to show up... and then I came in... and it should be obvious by now what happened. Cricket might have been about 3 weeks old. She would not take to a bottle at all, but she was able to eat a little canned food after some practice. She had NOT been hit by the car.
I can't have any more kitties in my family. I find my time with each of them is stretched to the limit and another one would take away from the others and I don't see that as fair to any of us. On rare occasions we have some jealousy issues. Usually just with the boys, though. Libby and Cricket play together all the time. Libby tends to pick on Jynxy. I'm not really sure why. I think she just likes to see him run, but sometimes she gets kind of mean. On most days, though, we all get along just fine.

I talk to my cats. Often.

My Brain On Work

Thanks for the suggestions I've gotten the last couple of days on things you might like to read about here. I've almost finished about how my cats came to live with me, but I need to go picture hunting for some kitten pictures before I post it. Oh, and dearest daughter of mine... I find it absolutely fascinating that you think your mom is such an interesting lady. We must get together over sparkling cider and grape juice so you can let me in on all the interesting facts, since I just don't see it. I guess my job is kind of interesting, yet I'm bound to keep silent about the most interesting things.

The guy I posted about in my previous post is a regular caller. He's not one of the crazy ones, as far as I can tell. But he is almost completely deaf. He has often complained about his neighbor kids and I do believe that they harass him on occasion or have harassed him in the past. He can not hear someone knocking on his door. Let me reword that... he can not hear the police knocking on his door... and we all know how loud a cop can knock on a door. They are specially trained in door knocking. For someone to play music loud enough for this guy to hear it, at 3am, while he's asleep, without his hearing aid in... I would be getting a lot more calls than just his.

The most frustrating thing about this guy is that I can't communicate with him. Our department is equipped with a machine that we can talk to deaf people on. It's called a TDD (Telecommunications Device for the Deaf). It's been around for many years. I would even go so far as to say it was the first true Instant Messenger. Why this man does not have one I cannot even begin to guess. But then again... I don't know the story of his life and how he came to call me last night. And because of that, it frustrates me that I was so put out about him calling... because I really was. I quickly classified him in the stupid people category. Sitting here at home, away from the work environment, I can clearly see he doesn't even come close to that, though.

In my mind, some 5 hours later, I think back to 3am and this is how I see it while sitting behind my home desk and not my work desk... He lives alone and he's deaf and he's had trouble with the mean kids being mean in the past. We've had a cold front blow through and the wind is kicking it up with a mighty force. He's asleep, yet wakes up because of the vibration of the wind. Could the wind's vibrations on his house be confused for the vibrations that loud music makes? I think it's a good possibility. So now I'm feeling horribly ugly about making immediate assumptions about this guy. 'Cause that's just how I roll.

I am not the same person at work as I am when I'm off the clock. There are pieces of me that go both ways (nooooo... not THOSE ways!), but they act differently depending on where I am. It's difficult to explain. I don't like to take personal phone calls at work. I also don't like to blog at work. Not because I'm afraid I'll get in trouble, but because I'm in the work frame of mind and I have a hard time being the person I am at home while I'm at work... yet on occasion I'll get a call and to help the person on the other end be more at ease, I will bring in pieces of my home self to help make the person feel as if I can relate to them and their situation. I am not conscious of these switches as they are happening.

I have hours upon hours to sit and think and because I am an obsessive compulsive self analyzer, I am able to see how different I am between here and work. I'm sure there's some sort of personality disorder that applies here, but I don't dislike how it all seems to work... except when I'm at home and I think about that other person, I find I don't have a lot in common with her... except the preference for solitude.

At Work Post

Where else can one work and get a phone call from someone who is so hard of hearing that they can not hear a word I say to them, yet they are calling to complain about their neighbor's loud music... at 3am in the morning.

I want to go home now thanks...

Who Am I?

If this blog has taught me anything, it's that I have no life. Sure, I get a little adventure out to the store or to mow my lawn ever so often... but I don't travel, so I can't regale you with pictures of a foreign land... my kids are grown and moved out, so I can't share with you their daily little funnies... my cats, who entertain me on a daily basis, only get up and get after it a couple of times of day and most of that is already shown on the Kitty Cam so there's not much use in re-living those moments by words. I'm not out dating every weekend and if I were the feedback on all of that would probably be quite negative. Nothing big ever really happens at work, and even if it did, I'm not suppose to talk about it.

So... what am I to share with you reader? What are you hoping to read about when you come here?

I have 18 blogs that I read almost every day. The one thing I am always curious about are who these people are? Where do they come from, who are their families? Where do they live? How did they come to be where they are now? I've always been a curious gal. On family road trips I would often sit in the back seat and look at the other people driving by wondering who they were and where they were going and what they were thinking at that very moment.

Maybe I'm not the only one who is curious this way? Who knows? I thought I would spend January delving a little deeper into who I am. Maybe you care. Probably you don't. But it gives me something to write about and what are blogs here for if not to talk about oneself?

As always... comments and questions are welcome.

THE BASICS:

I am a 41 year old female who lives in the Fort Worth area of Texas. I have lived here my entire life. I am the youngest of three children. I have two older brothers. One month a year, my brothers are the same age. There are 5 years difference between me and my brothers. My parents have been married for almost... 46 years, I think. Maybe almost 47. My grandmother on my Dad's side will be 105 years old in 8 days. I have 3 nephews and 1 niece. I have two grown children. My daughter will be 21 in March. My son will be 23 in 13 days. I have 1 aunt and 3 uncles, none of whom I ever see. I think I have about 3 or 4 cousins. I'm not sure on that one, which is kind of sad, but it's hard to miss what you've never had. I have 1 ex-husband and 0 current husbands. All of my immediate family still live in this area. I have 4 cats.

Crazy Night

There were some awesome icicles hanging from my back porch and my big wooden bird feeder as I left for work last night. My intentions were to take a picture of them when I got home this morning. Overnight, though, it went from 32 degrees when I left, to 38 by the time I got home. Needless to say, they weren't there when I got home. I need to get a digital camera that attaches to me somehow.

Work was dead last night. Not only where I was, but all of Tarrant County as well. My police computer was as dead as my telephones and my radios. Just a couple of calls from the crazy lady that calls me almost every night. She's got a list of complaints that she will always call about. Never anything new. Each night we have a choice of the following: The cars are speeding down her street. There are dogs running around loose (she lives right by our animal shelter). Her husband's wallet or keys got stolen. Someone will also often steal her personal items, like her eye liner or her green sweat pants. I wish I was making at least one of those things up. One thing I can say about her... when she calls to complain about something, she is always very polite. I did get her riled up one night and she called back and gave me a "go to hell" and hung up on me. On occasion, I'm thinking it runs with her menstrual cycle, she will call and say, "You're not doing your job", and then she will hang up. Sometimes she will time those calls just as I prop my feet up in the extra chair and get relaxed for the movie of the night. It's like she knoooows.

Weather Watcher

It got up to 84 degrees day before yesterday. I had to sleep with my air conditioner on. In January. Shameful. Now I am sitting here and it is 31 outside with freezing rain. Ah, finicky Texas weather... how you like to show off! Since I've never lived anywhere but this area, I don't know if it does this sort of thing in other states. Here... it does it all the freaking time. Our native plants have to be given anti-depressants because they are so confused... it's the only way we have any vegetation here. If you were to take a native Texas plant to a state with a stable environment, it would take over your yard, your neighborhood, your city...

I watched the sweetest documentary last night at work. (Yes... I DO have the best job ever!) It's called, 'The Wild Parrots Of Telegraph Hill'. It's about this homeless guy who befriends these wild parrots in the San Francisco area. The city I work for has wild parrots. I think they call them Quaker Parrots. They have thrived in the city for at least as long as I've been there, and I started in 1990. They build these HUGE nests around the electrical poles that hold transformers. They won't build on the support poles for some reason. They are allowed their freedom and the only time we intervene is when one gets hurt. I've taken several calls on injured parrots. Most of our citizens are very protective of them.

Nothing of interest has really been happening, aside from the crazy weather. Cricket caught her bum on fire on my birthday. Luckily, I saw that it was about to happen and I got there in time to smack it out quickly. You can't even tell it happened I was so quick. But there was definite flamage in hind quarters. I scared the crap out of Cricket by attacking her the way I did. When I pet her after I knew she was no longer on fire, I saw her flinch. That killed me. I don't hit my cats. I don't play rough with them either. I've been asked how come my cats are so calm and friendly and the answer is simple. I treat them with calm kindness, I love them, I let them play as hard or as gentle as they want. I don't throw them, I don't wrestle hard with them, I don't encourage their use of biting or nails. If my cat jumps up in my lap, yet under navigates the jump where they fall off, my cats will most often never use their nails to keep from falling off. They will act, most often, like they are raised. So... yeah. Cricket got her bum swatted... but only to put out the fire. The candle has since been moved.

I Should Have Thought Of This!

I predict this website gets very popular this year. Thanks K!

Kitty Toupee

Freedom!

No regrets. Just wish I was brave enough to cut off more.