Thursday, 25 February 2010

the sea was angry that day, my friends

candy-coated misery

This song has nothing to do with what I am about to disclose. I just happened to notice that the setting for this Carrie Underwood song reminded me of that of the last You Tube I chose to post. Being ADD and addicted to HGTV, I tend to become preoccupied with backgrounds and sets and am constantly making associations. SO i compared the two and I am wrong. Different, but similiar. That said, onto the next.

Okay. So. You know what they say about hanging around with the wrong people? Bad company corrupts good habits? I suppose that also goes for the things we read and choose to watch on TV and the computer. My dad recently got this book " ARE YOU A MISERABLE OLD BASTARD?" It sounds kind of funny, and though I have yet to read it, and probably won't, I happened to see it in the bathroom, and flipped through. I noticed it was more a collection of related quotes and anecdotes. I've also noticed that since this book has been lying around, my Dad, normally laid back with a dry and witty sense of humor, has actually taken on more of the M-O-B persona. I really don't think the man is all that miserable but geepers, it seems that way. I wonder if he's believing a lie, or if, thanks to this book, he's been liberated? Is this a good thing?

So, the other morning I noticed his face looked a bit puffy, and I asked him, point blank (whatever that means). "Dad, your face is a little puffy lately." He crankily responded, "I KNOW."

" are you having a toothache? Or something? "


Come to find out, the poor man has had an absessed tooth and never told anyone. "Geewhiz Dad, Why don't you just tell someone so we can take care of it and get some relief?" He's such a tough guy. Rarely complains about anything. You know, it's really not for me to be annoyed at anyone here. I love my father and only want him to be 100% WELL. You see, we almost lost him last summer and I feel partly responsible for that, since being a nurse I probably should have noticed his decline in health. That's another story which I am sure he would NOT want aired. The main thing is that he is alright. But geez, how long before you get some attention?
Actually, I really don't think he features dental work. Can't blame him. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzz.....

Anyway, the dear man was in his dentist's chair within an hour, and then to an endodontist the same day. Dad was started on antibiotics and will have to go back for surgical intervention tomorrow. While he's still cranky, and I do blame the book to some degree, maybe it's time some of these miserable old B-tards had their teeth checked out. And get some of that Testosterone cream the holistics are talking about. A dab'l do ya, as I understand it. Sheesh, do something beside reading a stinking book so we don't ALL have to suffer on account of your changes, for Pete's Sake. (jk- i'm in the midst of a perimenopausal meltdown.)

Poor Dad. Being miserable is about as funny as a root-canal.

Thursday, 18 February 2010

time and time again

we have to hear about Mickey Rourkes facial changes, most of which are directly related to the aging process. Leave Mickey alone!

Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man is a 1991 action film, starring Mickey Rourke and Don Johnson. The film was written by Don Michael Paul and directed by Simon Wincer. The film was a critical and financial failure, earning only $7,000,000 at the domestic box office (the budget was estimated at $23,000,000).[1] It became somewhat of a cult classic following its release to video.

be still and know

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

help is on the way, dear!
Drop off Sites:

Trinity Bible Church
3801 Allenwood-Lakewood Road
Allenwood, NJ 07719

Monmouth Executive Airport
1717 State Route Highway 34 S
Wall, NJ 07719

H & R Welding
307 Drum Point Road
Brick, NJ 08723

Calvary Chapel Cornerstone
6550 Rt. 9 S.
Howell, NJ 07731

A weird New Jersey story:
Thanks to the generous people at Marlboro-Manalapan Rehab with the cooperation of Management at Geri-Care and Pine Brook Care Center's Dept of Housekeeping (Deb and Doris) and Maintenance (Salvo), we were able to secure a donation of used medical equipment for the needy and injured in Haiti.

I called the church to be sure there would be someone on the other end to receive the items and help me get them into the trailer containing stuff which will be shipped out via the Disaster Response Team of America from Wall New Jersey to Haiti sometime this week.

I had asked Phil, one of the guys I work with if I could borrow his pick-up. Phil has a heart of gold and is ALWAYS helping us one way or another, so I knew that if his truck was available, I could count on him. After explaining the situation, that the trailer would be open until 5PM, Phil handed me the keys and I took the truck over to the garage where the equipment was loaded to capacity.

After securing the load, I said a quick prayer, and took off for the church in good time. The church is about 20 miles down Rt.9. I was taking my time so as not to disturb the balance of the cargo. I'd hate to drop a wheelchair, crutch or walker on the road, or worse, the hood of the car behind me.

Everything is moving along just fine until about a mile away from the church, it occurs to me that I had left without my warm coat and though dressed in several layers, realize I should have brought it along.

I decide to pull into WAWA for a long hot cup of 'Lemon Lane' Tea (with added lemon and honey) to warm the cockles. While in there, "Glory Days" is wrapping up and I am thinking 'how nice it is to get out of work while it is still daylight'.

As I'm in there, pouring up the tea, my boss calls to tell me that Bruce Springsteen was working out on a nearby elliptical. She act's like it's not that huge a deal for her. Though socially poised, we both know she's having a 'David Cassidy Moment'. I asked about his color.
"How's about his color?"
"He's tan. Very dark. He must have been away".
...Haiti? I don't know. I wonder if the man owns one of those 'super stand-up' tanning booths. Maybe.
"How's about his hair?"
"It looks good. I'll tell ya Gee, he's much cuter in person."

I tend to think most people are. Better looking in person. Well, not everyone, certainly not fashion models who are often air-brushed. So I pay for my tea and get back into Phil's truck. Yes, it's a beautiful but cold and windy day on the Howellbama side of the Jersey Shore, but nice to get out. I decided to put an end to after work internet nonsense and get outside sooner.

I pull the truck out and put it into gear and take off. The engine cuts out. I sit for a moment, and try it again. Nothing. The truck, loaded up like Fred Sanford's, is sitting in the middle of the parking lot. Completely blocking cars from getting out. The one guy tells me I can't park there.

"You can't just park there! People have to get out!"

Crazy woman driver. I tell him it's broken down, and have to physically push the truck out of his way. Still, it's not in a space. He pulls out and I walk into WAWA.

They find an employee (the guy who pumps gas) to jump Phil's truck. It works momentarily, and then cuts out again. Two other guys take notice of the situation and try to jump the thing with two other sets of cables. Finally the last guy, the one appearing most knowledgeable on the subject breaks it to me that something 'more serious' is going on here, and that I'd best have it towed to my mechanic. They all agree and push the truck into a parking spot off to the side. I thank them for their efforts. The cab is still warm and I have a cellphone and hot cup of tea. Hmm...I wonder what's going on here? I mean besides the obvious. If, according to Romans 8:28, 'ALL things work together for good for those who are called according to His purposes', then I should just thank God and do the next best thing. Still, sometimes I don't get it. I mean, wouldn't it make more sense to have me break down after the stuff was delivered? Being that I don't know the end from the beginning, and I have an active imagination, it's not hard to imagine all of the possible darker scenarios that I could have encountered had this not happened at WAWA at that time of the day. Ought I have ignored my hot tea longings and stayed the course? I decided it was for the BEST that this happened and only God knows why. As for the ending, I would have to do something here, and wait and see.

Naturally, I decided to call triple A and have it towed to Pep-boys, but on a whim first I called my friend Al instead.

Al V, my ex-H, but still a caring and dependable friend. He works in Camden but just happened to be within 5 miles of my breakdown. I explained what had happened. He drives up, lifts the hood and within 2 seconds discovers the loose terminal wire and tightens it up. It's a hero's moment. I love the sound of a car or truck starting up!

Yay!!! It was like Winnie The Pooh getting unstuck from his hole in the ground. I'm NOT STUCK here in the freezing cold!!! AND the wheelchairs, walkers and crutches will make it to Haiti this time around! Momma's gonna WALK, baby!

My hero then follows me to the church and helps to unload the wheelchairs walkers and crutches into the trailer, which by the way is piling up with all kinds of good things for Haitians. Thanks SO MUCH to Phil and Al and the other 3 guys and all of you people whoever you are for your effort to help others out there in the freezing cold or heat of Haiti.

Friday, 12 February 2010

Day one- Apicoectomy, Song - Blue

It felt as though he was scraping out a piece of my skull, and I suppose he was. Not that I had any real reference point, since against the advice of my sister, I had refused to educate myself with You Tube's vivid images and explanations of an "Apicoectomy". I hear you can view most any surgical procedure on You Tube. No thank you. I don't want to glimpse the carnage. Recently I had expressed my professional distaste for the internal and excremental side of patient care. For some reason some people think that nurses ought to enjoy every aspect of patient care. It's our wonderful 'calling'. How dare we admit aversions.... While I have cared for both pre- and post-operative patients, professionally I have steered clear of the OR and trauma areas of hospitals and eventually found my niche in Adult Medical Day Care ( i.e. the Happy Place). Since I've been a nurse for 25 years, having worked in various areas, I can claim to have seen 'it all', but am no where closer to feeling comfortable with surgery and I even less inclined to be interested in visualizing my own.

Back in '96 I had one of these procedures, but was put into a semi-conscious state. This time I had no insurance and didn't want to pay the added cost ( about $300) to be anesthetised. My sister had the same procedure weeks before and reassured me that it was
"NOTHING", Funny. I had reassured her of the same prior to her wakeful surgery." Little did I know. Unlike my barren self, my sister has birthed 5 children, NATURALLY, and the last baby weighing in at over 11 lbs. What does she know about pain? Everything. Enough to be able to deal with the sights, sounds and sensations of a simple Apicoectomy. She must take after my mother who refuses to take Novocain prior to having a tooth drilled.

Suddenly, the pressure and internal sounds of scraping were hardly bearable. Soon he was packiug something into what I surmised was a huge hole left above my number 13. Soon the packing process stopped. This was followed by what felt like suturing. Then quiet. I opened my eyes. The surgeon had gotten up and left the room. An x-ray was taken, and they waited, the three assistants, for the surgeon's return. I sat there quietly with a gauze in my mouth, and asked the muffled question: "So, he is done? It is all sutured up?"

"Not yet."

Bad question when the stitches are yet to come.

So he came back into the room. Said everything looked good. No fractures. Hopefully the apico would save the tooth, clear away the infection. G

I closed my eyes and went back to the happy place. He said the word "little sutures" and I put the music on in my mind and tried NOT To envision the process. This was followed by a sudden shot of Novacaine (long lasting anesthesia) and 2 Advil. He told me that he wanted to see me in 2 weeks. He said I'd wake up swollen and feeling as if I were punched in the face.

I was told to get my prescriptions filled and go home to rest and ice. Because I felt no pain, I took care of my other errands and came home. Baked cookies. Checked out internet. Made dinner for Dad and Mom. I have not rested yet, or applied ice, but I will, right now. Tomorrow, Day 2.

To look into the face of Heaven...

birds do it. bees do it. I'd like to get into the habit of doing it.

Flying south for the winter, of course, would suit me just fine.

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

Preparing for the beast...

hmm...i wonder if I have adequate provisions for this upcoming monster storm and whether Cousin Eddie will be inviting me to recite my poetry at Clan Sweeney jig next week? Will the roads even be clear by then?

dough knots?

... or Don Knotts?

Oh. I've just been informed that both are no longer available. Figures.

Monday, 8 February 2010

The Quest for Warmth G-Clair

captured there in orange, beneath the old street light
a cloud of breath exhaled, hangs heavy in the night
waiting on the 409 has never been this bleak
the fierce wind nips your ear lobe, and ice cold stings your cheek

I watch you turn your collar up, your back against the bite
one hand on that coffee cup, the other out of sight.
each morning getting colder, the forecast is for snow
in fleece and wool you face the frost, and how I'll never know

I see you’re green, my blue faced friend, the green before the fall
you've never been about the perks, it's conscience above all
the last thing on your mind just now would be to get a Lynx
traffic is lame, road rage insane, and air pollution stinks

don't EVEN get you started upon the SUV
spews out nitrous oxide and guzzles Texas tea
public parking, another rare find, for what you get they rob you blind
and what they miss, the vandal takes, leave you with migranes the car alarm makes

better for all we all take the train
or one car per family 'stead of one car per brain.
watching you stand there with ice crystals forming
Hypothermantic, you NEED global warming!

I know you ain't no girlyman, my ever-ready mate
but my duracel is waiting, and the 409 is late
I jump out from my hiding place, approaching from the rear
my work cut out, without a doubt, the ice lymric is near:

poetic license pending,
I call for a herione's ending
like a frozen filet
without word or delay
I can lift you without even bending

once inside and thawing, you start in about the gas
I turn down the heat, but turn up the seat that's warming up your carcass
and I'm certainly all for the planet, and all for your thinking what's best
but for mornings like these, with your jewels in a freeze, come with and we'll heat up the QUEST.

Sunday, 7 February 2010

what it's not- G- Clair

come on in to what is real, and I will make a nice hot meal and
you can turn the TV on, sit back, and watch the game that's on...
put your feet up on the chair and grab that blanket over there
I'll light a fire, stir the pot, don't get me wrong, it's what it's not

it's not that I you are all that great, but good enough, the hour is late
it's not that you are all that cold, but last I looked, we're getting old
it's not that I am in the need of someone here to bathe and feed
a homeless, worse, an invalid, a chatty friend or someone's kid

so come on in to what is real, and I will make a nice hot meal and
you can turn the TV on, sit back watch the game that's on...
put your feet up on the chair and grab that blanket over there
I'll light a fire, stir the pot, don't get me wrong, it's what it's not

It's not that I invite your gassing, true we've seen our best years passing
Frankly I have much preferred one's tendencies, like those, deferred
and even though I am not the type to get involved with TV hype
it's not that I'd could really care, or even stare were you not there

so come on in to what is real, and I will make a nice hot meal and
you can put the TV on, sit back and watch game that's on...
put your feet up on the chair and grab that blanket over there
I'll light a fire and stir the pot, don't get me wrong, it's what it'snot

It's not that I am tired of being... here alone, and never seeing
anyone of any kind, I might be lonely, but you'll find
that I am good at making due and if you think you have a clue
then any time you want the best of what it's not, please be my guest!

on rolling alone

Let's roll.

a summer night song G-Clair

a song I wrote to the rhythm of the crickets and katydids outside of my window tonight. It's a nice cool evening with a full moon.

I stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
can't lie, not the first time I'm thinking of you
but the night bugs are out, life's distractions will do

too many months have gone by without hearing
the music which blends with the night bugs, I'm fearing
it's too late to hope for those sounds in my life
but these night bugs revive good ol' summertime strife

With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps,you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
remember, they're here for the rest of our lives.

I looked to the west as the day slowly fadydid
sighed in the dusk, as the crickets and katydid
rhythm rubs life in the darkness outside
steer clear of the blue light or get yourself fried

And back in the house, now I rolled down the screen
protecting myself from the lurking unseen
from the critters which drawn by the lure of the light
would make feast in their famine on food, flesh and fright

we handle the things that intrude in our spaces
the bugs in the dark and the unwanted faces
we roll down the screens and we listen to voices
those sweet summer sounds, and this night bug rejoices

With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
bittersweet bugs, for the rest of our lives

Whining Eyes- ( to evoke a nice sweat ) - G Clair

he waved her down to where he stood, but lost her in the neighborhood
of several hundred thousand other people
and by the time she found him there, his drink was lost, she couldn't care
but stood there, drenched in sweat, beneath the steeple
slumping down to dusty ground with legs to watch, old Stanky Brown
is dragging through his medley, nasty fella
next time carry her own chair, ice cold water, put it there
a shady spot, not hot, beneath the 'brella

whining eyes, like her mother
he never knew it, but she cries like no other
he'll see her through it 'til she dies
oh no

sometimes, takes you years to learn, the smartest way is not to burn,
though some folks like to hang out in the trenches
next time then, she'll plan ahead, carry her own banner head
and wave it high above the other wenches
as for now, she doesn't care, he'll find her here, or meet her where
the mist is cool, and nearer to the porties
she only wants to find her place, a laggard in the human race
and rather cold, she's old, for in her forties

whining eyes, like her mother
he never knew it, but she cries like no other
he'll see her through it 'til she dies
oh no

Creation's Love Song- G Clair

There's this music that's playing deep down in my soul
where the wilderness beckons us all to be whole
from a faraway place it calls like the loon
it was written for us and it's always in tune

In tune with the weather as clouds, rolling in
bring the music of thunder and the rain on the wind
In tune with the valley as I climb to the peak
yodel lay he! Who goes there? To the echo I speak

Sunlight cuts through forests and glistens on streams
and pine-needles carpet the throne room which sings
the birds do not worry, they have no concern
they're singing the song that I have yet to learn

It flows down the creek bed and the rivers grow wild
rhythmic waves on the shores where I walked as a child
and the breath I exhale like the one you breathe in
keeps us all in this lifetime, how strange it's all been

This natural world, truly awesome and wild
where the worst things can happen and take down a child
the smallest and delicate flower of life
snatched up, and the music is bitter with strife

Then the tone of my song is of pure aggravation
and way out of tune with the whole congregation
and I just can't relate to the choir and organ
so I wander alone down to Stanley and Morgan.

Distracted by life and in wanting much more
lost time with the singers, forgotten the score
I yearn for the song which brings faith to the living
love to the lost and joy in the giving

Born for a purpose, not just to survive
to walk certain of hope while we're all still alive
and in search of a God who can touch my heartstrings
in sickness and health, through the questions life brings

Who in still quiet places or noisy train stations
in subways and alleys and the worst situations
speaks peace in the midst, overriding my brain
adding fuel to my fire and I'm drawn back again

Sitting alone, somewhat stuck in the mire
Reminded of Psalm Forty two, taken higher
"As the deer longs for water, my soul thirsts for You;
You alone my desire, to worship, my due.

And in speaking those words, all frustration exhaled
for alone on that cross was my Jesus was impaled
"Father, forgive, they know not that they're wrong
His voice to God's ears, the Creator's love song!

Monday, 1 February 2010