15 years ago...



Today...

Happy 15th Birthday, Caleb!!!!!

Well, the last day of the week is here. And it hasn't consisted of much unless you want to hear about stack and stacks of paper. So many stacks of paper full of numbers, names, dates, and check boxes that it feels like they - and the walls - are closing in on me. I hope I make it through this audit with some of my sanity remaining.

So I was never so thankful for the weekend. Did some chores around the house in-between other things. Headed to Dallas to attend the "surprise" 50th birthday party of a nurse I work with. It was a lot of fun and a little funny. Ever get that feeling that people are talking about you? Well, I did. A few moments later, all the ladies (none of whom I had ever met) at the other end of the table lean down towards my end and say, "Did you know that you look a lot like Sandra Bullock?" If only! They insisted, though, and then added that I should marry Jesse James. Like I ever had an inclination to marry anyone with the name of one of America's greatest outlaws.

This evening, my friend Jenny and I ran around town finding dinner. Finally settled on take out at Chilis. Then came back to Grandpa's to watch an Esther Williams movie. Now I'm sitting about, jabbering away on this blog, and watching the last Rosemary and Thyme episode. I should probably pay closer attention - it is a mystery, after all. But my brain has closed down, so I'll just say good-night!

Real Spring

This weekend, Texas experienced what I call real spring. That means temperatures in the thirties and snow on Sunday. Very strange. Perhaps even stranger is that in NH, it was over seventy.

So, with that wonderful weather (which meant I could wear sweaters, and boots, and corduroy!) came failed plans – sort of. On Sunday, I had two girls from my church over. We had planned a picnic. Instead, we just ate our meal indoors. Then we played Super Scrabble. That means more tiles, more spaces, and more fun. For the first time I ever, I played all my letters at once. I spelled the word “Justice”. With that and a triple word score, I made 154 points on that one word! I think I’ll remember that for a while…

Then we played a little bit of Hand and Foot. We chatted, we laughed, and we enjoyed ourselves. It was great fun. A real spring day.

A LLLOOONNNGGG Week

Well, it's been a long week. And it all started with a letter my boss received on Monday. Amazing what can turn your week upside down. But the government will do that to you...

So, my week has consisted mostly of paper. And paper. And more paper. Paper, that if piled into a stack would probably be taller than I am. We're talking 16 charts of patients we've had (or did have) on service for at least two years or more. They all have to be gone through with a fine tooth comb. Then they all have to be copied...and finally sent to the government. Why? Well, let's just say that if you live longer than two years after you're declared terminally ill the government will come after you with a sledge hammer.

So the office has been a hive of busyness. Wherein it is usually quiet - give or take - most of the nurses have rescheduled things so they spent hours helping myself, my boss, one of our chaplains, and the DON go through charts. The office hums with voices and flipping paper. Perhaps it would make most office managers delighted to have company. But by Thursday, I felt like the walls were closing in on me. My boss finally leaned over my desk and said, "You are going OUT for lunch today, right?" I didn't care about going OUT for lunch - I wanted OUT for sanity! So OUT I went.

It's not over by far. All 16 charts have been searched through once for any glaring mistakes. Two charts have been copied and sit on my desk waiting for a few more pieces of information. But that leave 14 that still need to be "detailed". And all this has to be done in the next two weeks. Not to mention trying to keep up with my regular work.

At five till five on Friday, I had one more stack of copies to make so I decided just to do it and finish. Then my mom called with some questions about fabric I picked out so she can make me some summer skirts. We got to talking, I finished copying and stacking, and by then it was 5:15. I just wanted out of that prison, so I grabbed my stuff, flipped off lights, and darted out the door.

Fast forwarded through my evening of playing on the wii, getting the oven ready to clean tomorrow, a movie, and some reading. I laid my head on my pillow and then jumped up with a start: I forgot to forward the phones!!!!

Now in a stereotypical world, I should be out every weekend until midnight. After all, I'm a young, single working girl. But as I far prefer a good book or BBC drama series, I'm hardly ever out past nine. But last night I pulled on a pair of jeans, grabbed my keys and stuff, and darted out the door at ten till midnight. Work is about ten minutes down the road without traffic - which, of course, there was none at midnight. I arrived at the office, checked messages which I scribbled down, transferred the phones and jumped back into my car. On the way back I scared the on-call nurse half to death by calling her with one message she did need to call and check on.
Then I went to bed - for the second time that night.

I slept till past eight - very unusual for me. And then dozed until nine. But it's cold and rainy here today, so I didn't need to get up for my usual Saturday morning long run. I just had a few odd chores to do (which no longer included the major one of washing my car). And now I still have a few tasks to finish. Then? Well, I need to relax. Get a hair cut, maybe a bit of shopping, and finally something mindless. For next week this routine starts all over again - but without the midnight visit to the office, I hope!

The Ides of March

My day started out with no internet access at work. I pulled every plug, pushed every button and threatened every piece of equipment I knew how - nothing. And Verizon couldn't figure it out, so they have to send us a new piece of equipment which won't arrive until - hopefully - tomorrow. And what does one do without an internet connection? Good question. I had to find a nursing facility we had never heard of.

"I'll look it up online...um, no I won't."

Someone called about a patient they insisted we had on service.

"I'll look it up...um, no I won't."

I couldn't get directions anywhere, find phone numbers, check payments, receive or send e-mail, or print off calendars from a few years ago that we sorely needed. And nor, does it seem, I can imagine what life was like before 24/7 access to the world wide web.

Then...while my boss and I passed off the phone trying to get the internet working, he opened the mail. I hear an "Oh, no." Not a good sign. The last time I heard that, the earth may as well have opened up and swallowed us whole. This time we wished the earth would open up and swallow us whole.

You know, our government has nothing better to do with its time than chase after small business owners for money. When they could go after huge hospitals that have huge budgets that get huge amounts of cash from the tax payers pockets; they pick on small hospices with a grand total of 50 to 70 patients at a time. This time they wanted information: charts so large they make up six stacks of paper all over two feet in height each. We have to go over it all with a fine tooth comb, copy it all and then mail it all. And did I mention this has to be done in 30 days? Perhaps the way to fight this one is to sic the tree-huggers onto them. For before this is over, we'll have cut down several trees worth of paper...

"Beware of the ides of March," Shakespeare wrote.

Next time, I think I'll just follow my inclinations and stay in bed.

Thoughts of Home

I find it funny what can make me homesick. Last Sunday, it was pouring down rain. I pulled into the church parking lot and thought of home. Why? Because whenever the weather was bad on a Sunday, Dad would pull up to the front of the church and let us all out so we wouldn’t get wet. But I had no one to do that for me, so I had to pull out the umbrella, juggle my belongings, somehow manage to get only a tad wet in the maneuver, and walk into the building myself. I miss my dad.

Then on Monday, I used some of my birthday/Christmas money and bought a wii and balance board. I set it up that evening, created a new mii name Karly, a little puppy named Wiggles, and played for over an hour. But somehow it wasn’t as much fun as it is at home. Not because no one is there to mock my athletic skill, but because there was no other miis to yell at. At home there is a whole collection of miis to blame for not going into the holes in table top, or kicking a ball wrong in soccer, or hitting the ball out of bounds in tennis. I guess I need to create a Texas mii family. The only problem is, it will be like yelling at myself instead of Jenny (via Jazzy), Grace (via Gracie), Caleb (via Bub), Abby (via Charlie), or Sally (via Marshall). And what’s the fun in that?

Or how about Easter candy? I couldn’t resist buying a couple of favorites when I was at Walmart this week. But there is no one to pick out their favorite Starburst jelly beans but myself. Nor is it good for my waistline to eat a whole bag of candy all on my own…

And don’t forget to turn your clocks back on Sunday. I might forget…for there are no post-it notes attached to every clock in the house which is how my dad reminds himself to spring ahead (or fall back). Might have to find some of my own yellow stickies.

Into the World of Fantasy

As a big sister and a tutor of two teenage boys, I try to keep up a little with the world of Christian fantasy fiction – although it is not my favorite genre. However, I truly believe author Chuck Black is a brilliant writer, tying in the truths of our lives as Christian warriors with the stories of the Kingdom of Arrethae. Lady Carliss and the Waters of Moorue is no exception. A tale of great heroics not only on the battlefield but in the heart and soul make for an exciting and thought-provoking read. “Tween” girls will especially enjoy it for Lady Carliss is a brave heroine.

If you like tales of worlds that are full of strange creatures, mysterious histories, heroes and devils – then you will enjoy Jeffrey Overstreet’s Raven’s Ladder. Although the author can spin a wonderful tale, I found it very difficult to follow. I could not understand what the hero was truly seeking, there was very little description of the strange creatures of the land, and the dialogue often confused me. The tale is more for adults that teens. (Warning: The book does not stand alone. I haven't read the first two in the series - or have an inclination to - but I hope they make this story more complete.)

Interested? Find these two books here:

http://www.randomhouse.com/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9781400074679

http://www.randomhouse.com/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9781601421272

These books were provided by Waterbrook Multnomah Publishers for review.

For the LORD thy God hath blessed thee in all the works of thy hand: he knoweth thy walking through this great wilderness: these forty years the LORD thy God hath been with thee; thou hast lacked nothing. Deuteronomy 2:7

We all go through wilderness experiences. We walk through valleys. We walk through deserts. Deserts are the worst. At least in a valley there is grass and water. In a desert there is neither.

Growing up I always had the impression the Israelites spent forty years going in circles through something that resembled the pictures I’ve seen of the Sahara. Sand, sand and sand. Probably a little extreme, but the wandering Israelites surely felt like they lived in a desert. You don’t have to read far into the account to hear their griping.

We all like to think we wouldn’t complain as bad as they, but look at your wilderness moments. Did you get through those complain-free? I haven’t – not ten years ago, not now. And I haven’t even lived for forty years.

The last fifteen months of my life have been a wilderness journey for me. In the plains of Indiana and Texas, I might as well have been in some flat desert. And my journey hasn’t been made much easier since I tasted New Hampshire last week and have been left homesick. Perhaps that is why Deuteronomy 2:7 meant so much to me when I read it this morning.

“See, Melissa?” that quiet voice spoke to my heart. “I know you are walking through a wilderness. I’ve been with you through it all. I will be with you for as long as it continues. You will lack nothing you need. And I will bless you. Just trust Me.”

Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief.

Charm

This time last week, I was stuck at the Baltimore airport waiting to – hopefully – get a flight to snowy New Hampshire. I think the nearly six hour delay put some in a foul mood. They worried about driving home in the hard snow, work the next day, or scowled upon being stuck in an airport. Personally, I didn’t care. After fifteen months, I was going home. And I would see snow!

I could go on for hours about my visit to New Hampshire. I could show you the two or three hundred odd pictures I took (aren’t digital cameras wonderful?). I could wax eloquent on the wonders of New England that no other part of this country has. But I won’t bore you to death. In a nutshell, once back it felt like the last fifteen months of my life had never been lived. I think that means I have officially found home on earth – even if I don’t live there.

So what makes New Hampshire (or New England in general) so wonderful? Well, you’d have to live there many years to figure it out for the first time I moved back, I hated it. The people do talk funny (my name is not “Melissar”). They’re not very nice on the surface. And unless you enjoy the cold and snow like I do, you’ll find the winters long and depressing. But live there a while and it just might become home. Why? Because New England has charm.

Oh, I know other places have charm – even Texas. Granted, the downtown squares of Texas or the River Walk in San Antonio have charming features. I hear the western part is nice, and the eastern part does have trees. But it doesn’t have forests so thick you can’t see the house for the trees. And the neighborhoods are full of cookie cutter houses on postage stamp lawns. They do little to inspire the local joggers (like me). But, of course, Texans love it.

Of course most Texans also have no clue where “New England” is, let alone been there. If you say Boston, they have a general idea. Otherwise, most of them think you’re from outer space. They don’t understand forests, or mountains with granite tops, or beautiful old Colonial homes surrounded by acres of land. They have their tiny towns that you’ll miss if you blink, but they don’t usually include an old white church with a towering steeple nestled in the hills. And they certainly don’t include a blanket of fresh snow in the winter.

But I am as biased as a Texan, for New England is home – not just because I’ve lived most of my life in four of its six states but because I was born there. And I can be as proud of my little birthplace of Newport, Rhode Island as any Texan is of their grand state with the lone star. For while everything in Texas is supposedly bigger and better, I’d like to see them produce a charming summer cottage like this one:

The Breakers

Newport, RI

Nor will you see a lovely winter scene like this one in Texas:

Wilton, NH

But, then, in New Hampshire you won’t see daffodils blossoming in late February. And if you like spring in February, that’s grand. Personally, I would like to see about twelve more inches of snow.