Friday – ARGH!!!!

Last Friday was a challenging ordeal. It began at about 2:00 a.m. when I woke up with the whole right side of my heard throbbing in pain. The root cause (literally) of this discomfort being a tooth that had a filling several weeks before. The dentist mentioned at the time that he had barely hit the root and that if there were problems with it, I might need a root canal. I was having a sinking feeling that a root canal was in my immediate future.

I drug myself out of bed at about 5 a.m. took a shower and got ready for work. On the way to the park and ride I stopped at Safeway to pick up some aspirin, because the only thing I had at home was Advil PM. That wasn’t going to get through the day.

While I was there I picked up a hot chocolate at the Starbucks, I couldn’t eat anything and thought the milk would help my stomach. Anything cold was out of the questions since the cold would only aggravate my tooth more, it possible. It took forever since the two people working were doing more conversing than cranking out the hot stuff. It felt like I stood in line forever, but it probably wasn’t all that long, it just felt like it.

On to the park and ride where I got the bus driver from Hell. He decided to cop a total attitude with me. Not the morning for that and we got into it bit. I did make a complaint to the local bus company when I got into the office, but I still haven’t heard back.

Into the office to wait until I can call my dental provider for an emergency appointment. Interestingly, my provided informed me I could be seen as an emergency but it would cost an extra $20. Really? I of course agreed, it’s not like I could wait weeks to be seen. I did point out that if the dentist hadn’t nicked my root doing the filling I wouldn’t need an appointment. The customer service person suggested I mention that when I paid my bill. That turned out to be good advice. Goes to show you should poke at every corner.

I madly bang away at work to get a mailing out the door before I have to leave for my appointment. Got out just at the last possible moment.

Dentist informs me that yes I have a bad tooth and will need a root canal. Now here’s the deal, I have really good teeth, but bad plack so I need deep cleanings three times a year by a periodontal hygienist. Think root scraping, and an hour in the chair. I’ve heard all the worst stories about root canals: 8 hours in the chair, horrible pain, failed procedures. I told the dentist all this and let her know I didn’t think I could sit in a chair for hours, and then have to have the tooth pulled later. She really listened and agreed to pull the tooth, but wanted me to give it a try and she would stop at any time and do the extraction. I agreed, reluctantly. Aside from the one shot in the roof of my mouth it was amazingly pain free, and it took just under an hour. Of course this was just the first half of the procedure. The will finish it next month.

Of course by the time the dentist is through the pain is already starting to come back. I go out and wait to be called to pay my bill and my medical reimbursement payment card wouldn’t go through, so I had to pay out of pocket. I then head over to the pharmacy with my prescriptions, one for a pain killer and one for antibiotic. And the payment card still isn’t working so more out of pocket money. I pop those puppies as soon as I get them and head home and into bed. I hit the sheets a little after 2:00 p.m. and slept like the dead for 6 hours when the pain killer wore off. More antibiotics and pain killers, and back to bed.

I was never so glad to see a day end, at least not in recent memory.

Where Are We Centered?

I was listening to NPR (OPB-Oregon Public Broadcasting) the other day, no shocker there since I usually listen to NPR whenever I’m in the car and in the mornings when I’m getting ready for work. The host was interviewing an author about his new book on maps. One of the points the author made was that over the centuries maps have been centered relative to what the maker or user felt was most important. So it might be Rhodes which was the center of trade a really long time ago, or Jerusalem for obvious reasons.


So this gets me to thinking. It’s no wonder so many people act like they’re the center of the universe, they’ve been using their GPS! As soon as they pull up the GPS what does it show you? Where you are, and where are you? In the center.

I think we need to come up with a new center. But what should we center on? Not Hollywood, not New York, or London, or Tokyo, or Hong Kong or any other of the world capitals or centers of business and money. We need a center that focuses us on a wider view, one that focuses us on something apart, but something we want to care about. So we need an app! (I can’t believe I’m saying that.) We need an app that allows us to center our GPS on something like the neighborhood school, the community garden, animal shelter, or food bank. We’ll call it TrueCenter.

2012 and the End of the World

OK, I’ve been thinking, yes it happens from time to time. Anyway, if this is the year the world ends we have really screwed up and missed a huge opportunity. Why, oh why, are we holding elections?

We could have done away will all the debates, political ads, party politics and extremist emails. No Obama said this, Romney said that, and the analyst’s take on it all. No more cares about the state of world banking, or what China is doing. Pack up all the troops, all over the world, and bring them home to their families. No more talk about budgets or taxes. Put it all away because it’s not going to matter anyway.

So basically if the world is ending, what are all these newly elected people going to do? Why are we fighting over the national healthcare program, or the immigration policy, or who says what about whom?

Instead, we could take all the money being given to super pacs and have a great party! Let’s just chill, make a few margaritas, fill the wading pool, listen to the birds sing, and enjoy the sunsets. In the end, (pun intended) even if the world doesn’t cease to exist, this is probably the tack to take anyway. We’d all be a lot more happy.

Driving improvments?

I hardly ever pay any attention to TV ads, especially car ads, or sports ads, or reality show ads, or ads for wrestling. Basically I just tune it all out or fast forward on my tvo. (How much do you love tvo!!!)


For whatever reason, I happen to catch a little piece of the description for some new and improved car. It seems that if there are adverse road conditions ahead you will receive a vibration from the driver’s seat.

Well, as you can imagine this sent my imagination off into some funny and strange areas. Remember that movie Crash where everyone was getting into car crashed because they found them sexually stimulating? It now seems your car can give you a little extra boost in that directions. Kinky!

After more than a century of developing and improving driving instruments to make driving safer, we’re right back were we started, driving by the seat of our pants. Really, did no one on the design team ever think of this? LOL

Where are we headed?

I’ve been noticing some strange things in the news lately. OK, I know there are always strange things in the news, that’s what makes a lot of them news. It jsut makes me shake my head and wonder where we're headed.

Some of this stuff is what you’d have expected to see in the Dark Ages where science was the enemy of the righteous man. You know the kind of thing – the sun can’t be the center of the solar system because the Church says the earth is. Or we can look a little closer in history where, regardless of selected breeding in our farm animals to improve breeds, evolution can’t be real because God created us in his image. You know little gems like that.
Jump a few centuries or decades ahead and now science is under attack not because its conclusions are wrong, immoral, or blasphemous, but because they’re incontinent. Recently North Carolina has made it illegal to report on or make accurate projections on rising sea levels that will impact their coasts. This was quickly followed by Virginia demanding terms such as “climate change” and “global warming” be removed from a bill before voting. Then this morning I hear that a federal court has struck down EPA rules that limit cross state pollution.
So in North Carolina the legislature was apparently under the pressure from developers who want to develop coastal properties and sell them without future owners having any chance of knowing their properties could be under water in the near future. In Virginia, republican lawmakers are pushing their party’s stance that global warming does not exist. And, in the federal case polluters don’t want to be responsible for what happens to the toxins they spill into other states.

It’s all really about greed. Rather than do the right thing and building a better future for everyone, it gets down to me, me, me, me. And, now, now, now, now. When did we stop being innovative, forward looking, and driven to be the best? Just exactly when did this happen to American? When did we become smaller, blind, and without sympathy for our fellow man? When did we become so individually self-centered?
More importantly how do we get our big ideas, and change the future attitude back? How do we move back to a place where “he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother” is the aspiration of all? Where we leave a better world for our children and not just a bigger bank account? Where we inspire our children, and each other, to dream in big and without self centered blinders on?

I’m just wondering, and hoping we haven’t let the sun go down on the great experiment that is the United States.

2012 and the End of the World


OK, I’ve been thinking, yes it happens from time to time. Anyway, if this is the year the world ends we have really screwed up and missed a huge opportunity. Why, oh why, are we holding elections?

We could have done away will all the debates, political ads, party politics and extremist emails. No Obama said this, Romney said that, and the analyst’s take on it is this. No more cares about the state of world banking, or what China is doing. Pack up all the troops, all over the world, and bring them home to their families. No more talk about budgets or taxes. Put it all away because it’s not going to matter anyway.

So basically if the world is ending, what are all these newly elected people going to do? Why are we fighting over the national healthcare program, or the immigration policy, or who says what about whom?

Instead, we could have take all the money being given to the super pacs and have a great party! Or, let’s just chill, make a few margaritas, fill the wading pool, listen to the birds sing, and enjoy the sunsets. In the end (pun intended) even if the world doesn’t end, this is probably the tack to take anyway. We’d all be a lot more happy.

Bottle of water vs fireworks

Ok, I have some more issues with national security. I can’t take a bottle of water onto a plane, but I can go buy thousands of dollars of fireworks without showing ID or proof of what I plan to do with it. I can transport them anywhere and no one is going to care about it. Now really, does this make sense? Let’s just forget that spending that much money on something you’re going to burn is just crazy anyway!

So, I guess if money is no option, terrorists should just skip the fertilizer order, and the chemistry classes, and web searches, and go to the neighborhood fireworks stand and everything I need is right there. In fact I could wait until the last day of sale and get everything at a huge discount!

I’m just saying, this is nuts!!

4 women, 3 kids and the beach

I am getting ready to go on a small vacation. “Small” may be the wrong word because work has been so busy and will be even more so when I return. Perhaps this is really a big vacation even though it is only for about a week and a half and I will not stray too far from home.

At work I have been feeling like the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dike, all the time knowing I am only delaying the inevitable deluge that will fall on me like a 50 foot wall of water and stay at nose level for the next year and a half. So, this is an opportunity to kick up my heels, and/or lie on the beach and let it all drop away for awhile. Calgone take me away!! – Shit I have to pee now from all this water metaphor crap!

I am really excited about my beach trip, or as we say here in the Pacific Northwest, my trip to the coast. We have rented a house right on the beach, like you step out of the door and into the sand and surf. Big picture windows for prime sunset viewing. And, best of all I’m going with my three best friends! We have talked for years about taking a vacation together, but this will be the first time. Granted there is the potential for disaster on a truly heroic scale, but I have faith in us. We practically live in each other’s pockets now. I think it is safe to say we know each other, warts and all. Not that I’m saying any of us are possession of any warts. I’m a good friend and will stridently proclaim that they are all, all three of them, absolutely perfect in every way. Even better than Mary Poppins, who was only practically perfect in every way.

I think the real hic-up potential for the trip will be the kids. I say this for three reasons, 1. We are taking three children and three kids can only get along for just so long and then two will either gang up on the third, or close them out, both actions creating hard feelings. 2. As much as we love each other, we are all mothers before anything else and bears when protection out cubs. And, 3. None of them are mine so I can truly be objective. Oh yeah, and two are girls and one is a boy. Even thought I know we will work out whatever comes, I fear we are on a collision course to drama.

Tonight we have our first big challenge, the packing! Our plan is to pack up Wendy’s SUV with almost all our stuff. This is stuff for four women, two adolescence girls and one boy. Thanks goodness we’re not flying, it would cost a fortune! Tomorrow morning Danna and I will drive over, with the kids, in my little red car. Wendy and Debbi will follow after work. By themselves, no kids. Danna and I are so screwed if they don’t show up!!

I’m still really excited and despite of all that can go wrong, I know we will have a great time!

I think our next vacation together will be Vegas. No kids, No man. And, what happens in Vegas will stay in Vegas.

Osama is Dead

Last evening we learned that Osama bin Laden has been killed by a unit of Navy Seals. My first reaction was to not believe it, simply because it seemed impossible. Once I believed it, I felt excited, but not so much I wanted to jump up and down. I was conflicted, for a couple of reason: 1.) his death will probably not have a big impact on terrorist activities, and 2.) it just wasn’t right to be happy that someone was dead.

Hopefully bin Laden’s death will mean that some of his money will stop flowing into Al Qaida and that will hamper their ability to pull so many misguided people to the organization. Of course this bring up the question of is a fractured Al Qaida any less dangerous? I don’t know.

I am very proud that our president carried through on his promise to make getting bin Laden a priority, and actually got the job done!! I know that an ongoing frustration within the military is when they have a group or a person pinpointed and then can’t get the go ahead to make the move. In this instance, our president made the right decisions all along the way. Our service members are second to none in the world, especially when they are allowed to do what they do best.

How sad is it that someone with so much influence and power, chose to focus it on evil actions to so many around the world? He was a man with every opportunity, and a vast amount of resources at his disposal and at every point seemed to be unable to make a choice that would truly benefit the world he lived in. He made an art of attracting the disenfranchised and building on their insecurities and then using them in the most thoughtless ways, and without regard for them or their families.

The really sad thing is the loss to all us of the positive potential that he and his followers do not live up to.

Damn I'm Old

The other day I was replying to an email from a co-worker, giving my opinion on some proposals from a consultant. I went to wrap up my missive with, “There’s my 2¢.” It took me awhile to find that cent mark. I’m old enough to remember when it was just above the 2 on the typewriter key. Of course, I’m also old enough to remember typewriters. In fact, I actually learned to type, not keyboard.

Typing was a skill I learn under complete duress. I fought hard to stay out of that class in high school. Once I was in the class I only learned the bare basics. Because there were more students than working machines I spent most of my time ready books for pleasure and giving the teacher oral reports once I finished.

Fast forward more years than I care to think about, and here I am spending a good deal of my time typing away at over 70 wpm, with a decent degree of proficiency. Who would have thunk? Certainly not me!

Today I was in a meeting with said consultants, and over the corner of the conference room was a stereo with an 8-trak player. Holy cow Batman!! Where did that come from? Half the people in the room didn’t know what an 8-track tape was. I’m not kidding. I’m so freaking old!!

A Soldiers' Angels Christmas

The day was young, and the sound of music was light,
We gazed round the room and cherished the sight.
The items were heaped, over flowing from a chest,
Food, snacks, toys, books, silly thing and, all the rest.
We divided and stacked, the socks a pile of white,
Christmas cards, and multicolored stocking filled with delight.

This weeks shopping was better then we could believe,
There would be enough for all our soldiers on Christmas Eve.
Our eyes were bright, as we packed the boxes deep,
The liquids were baggied so they wouldn’t seep.
The heavy items placed in cardboard corners, near the seam,
And little tiny candies and mixes, fit in tight spaces like a dream.

As we packed we laughed, and wished our soldiers were near,
But instead told stories of emails and letters in each others ears.
There were special things, to each other we wanted to show,
Things with meanings, we knew our soldiers would know.
We each told stories, so fun to hear,
And in our hearts, holding our solders dear.

Once the boxes were filled, and taped down tight,
We broke out the markers, and decorated them bright.
There were angels, and flags in colors so bold,
And then we added trees and snowmen so cold.
Once we were done, with gladness we smiled,
Standing over our boxes, we whooped it up wild.

"I think mine looks best?" I said without fear,
"Look at the halo, and the wings right here!
There’s a nice red heart, and trim on the sleeve,
She’ll bring a smile come Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw their eyes shift,
Away from me, to their boxes their sites did drift. .

Their opinions differed, and their voices weren’t light
They sighed and then said "You’re looking for a fight,
Ours are great, too. We think we all did alright.
You can just simmer down, and put your box back in line,
There’s still more, it’s Customs Form time.”

" I hate Customs Forms and they hate me,
All that writing and writing until I can’t see.
My hands turned to pains, and cramps,"
I sighed, "Let’s get start, go get the lamps.
Why must there be 5 pages, man oh man,
We press down with the pens, as hard as we can.

In the north is Mosul, and a little east is Kirkuk,
Baghdad is central, and for the west at the map we must look.
There is Jason at HHC, then there’s Nicole at CID,
And Elizabeth and Dat in Company C.
"I hope they have decorated, and aren’t feeling alone,
I wish they were with family, in a house and at home.

Those retched forms are done, and we rise to our feet,
It was time for the post office, through the rain and the sleet.
We can carry the weight, we’re each a mother,
Stacking the boxes in the car, next to one another.
We have the Customs Form for one and all,
Ready for that cute postal clerk, John Paul.

"Wal-Mart has socks on sale," Mom said, "and a little flashlight,
We can stop on the way back, just take a right."
"After that we can stop at Target, their price for deodorant is best,
And toothpaste," I said, "and then it’s the Dollar Store for the rest.
We’ll still need to add some things, like Hunny Buns,
Wouldn’t it be a great idea to add some magnets, maybe of a sun.”

As we drive off down the road, we plan our next box,
"Do you think it’s possible, perhaps to pack some lox?”.
Angels live for letters and cards, received and sent,
For a good themed box, and hoping they don’t get bent..
Angels love and care, always knowing it’s important that things are said,
We remember that our soldiers fought and bled.
We carry soldiers in our hearts, and in our pockets a Solidiers’ Angels coin,
and we hope you will visit www.soldiersangels.org to join."

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

1. How many steps does the guard take during his walk across the

tomb of the Unknowns and why?

21 steps. It alludes to the twenty-one gun salute, which is the

highest honor given any military or foreign dignitary.



2. How long does he hesitate after his about face to begin his

return walk and why?

21 seconds for the same reason as answer number 1



3. Why are his gloves wet?

His gloves are moistened to prevent his losing his grip on the

rifle.



4. Does he carry his rifle on the same shoulder all the time

and if not, why not?

He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from the tomb.

After his march across the path, he executes an about face

and moves the rifle to the outside shoulder.



5. How often are the guards changed?

Guards are changed every thirty minutes,

twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.



6. What are the physical traits of the guard limited to?

For a person to apply for guard duty at the tomb, he must be

between 5' 10" and 6' 2" tall and his waist size cannot exceed 30." Other

requirements of the Guard: They must commit 2 years of life to guard the

tomb, live in a barracks under the tomb, and cannot drink any alcohol on

or off duty for the rest of their lives. They cannot swear in public for the

rest of their lives and cannot disgrace the uniform {fighting} or the tomb in

any way. After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin that is worn on

their lapel signifying they served as guard of the tomb. There are only

400 presently worn. The guard must obey these rules for the rest of their

lives or give up the wreath pin.

The shoes are specially made with very thick soles to keep the heat

and cold from their feet. There are metal heel plates that extend to the

top of the shoe in order to make the loud click as they come to a halt.

There are no wrinkles, folds or lint on the uniform. Guards dress for duty

in front of a full-length mirror.

The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to anyone, nor

watch TV. All off duty time is spent studying the 175 notable people laid

to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. A guard must memorize who they are

and where they are interred. Among the notables are: President Taft, Joe

E. Lewis {the boxer} and Medal of Honor winner Audie Murphy, {the most

decorated soldier of WWII} of Hollywood fame.

Every guard spends five hours a day getting his uniforms ready for

guard duty.



ETERNAL REST GRANT THEM O LORD, AND LET PERPETUAL LIGHT SHINE UPON THEM.

In 2003 as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching Washington, DC, our

US Senate/House took 2 days off with anticipation of the storm. On the ABC

evening news, it was reported that because of the dangers from the

hurricane, the military members assigned the duty of guarding the Tomb of

the Unknown Soldier were given permission to suspend the assignment. They

respectfully declined the offer, "No way, Sir!" Soaked to the skin,

marching in the pelting rain of a tropical storm, they said that guarding

the Tomb was not just an assignment, it was the highest honor that can be

afforded to a serviceperson. The tomb has been patrolled continuously,

24/7, since 1930.



God Bless and keep them.



I thought this was worth knowing.

Dialing "1" under pressure

To dial one, or not to dial one, that is the question. At least it’s kind of the question I asked myself yesterday. There are two different area codes for the city of Portland, one of them is 503, the other one is something I can never remember. In part, because I just don’t run across it very often, and considering the number people I talk to every month, tells me that there really aren’t that many people with this other area code. So, I’m in the process of calling someone back who has left me a voice mail. I dial “9” to get the outside line, then the area code (not 503) and the number. Well, of course this area code is not that other area code I can never remember. It’s for someplace other than Portland, even though the caller is calling about a their home address here in Portland.

So, you know what happened, I got that annoying recording telling if I need to dial “1” when calling this number. Usually I just hang up and dial again using the “1” as directed. I’m such a mindless drone! For some reason yesterday, this recording really irked me. For one thing aren’t area codes unique? So if you’ve dialed an area code doesn’t the system know where to send the call? How does dialing “1” add anything to the process? The system obviously knew it needed a “1” so why didn’t it just send the call one. Why to I have to put in something you already know is part of it? And, why does the “1” on a long distance call still even exist?

Why can I make the same call, without the “1”, on my cell phone and there’s no annoying recording. It goes through, no problemo lameo! Why are land lines not keeping up with cell technology? I have a theory, of course. They want to piss up all off so we will all move over to cell phone service. Which we are as individuals, but at work we still have land lines to deal with.

My co-work, the ever sane Stephen, watching me have my mini meltdown over the issue of the “1”, just smiled and said, “Rhetta, I hope you’re not going to lose sleep of this.” He is now my meditation master. The one to call me down from the ledge. The one who will gently take the gun and unload it, while speaking in a calm and steady voice.

After my run in with the “1” I heard about the flight attendant who had the meltdown, gave a piece of his mind to an ill behaved passenger and then lowered the escape ramp and left with a couple of beers. You know I can really sympathize with this guy, and there have been many times over the past 15 years that I’ve worked with the public, that would have loved to do something very similar. Hell, I wanted to do it yesterday with phone company! You’ve read my blog on municipal black ops hit squad. But, so far I’ve managed to walk away without losing it. I’m just hoping that trend will continue.

It’s only a matter of time before there is a really nasty issue in the air, not involving a terrorist. It will however, involve a customer who has reached the absolute end of their rope. Flying used to be a civilized activity, people dressed nicely, and were treated very well. Now some passengers don’t even bath before getting on planes, and we’re all treated like cattle being transported to the slaughter house. Hell, cattle are probably treated better.

You have to have the patience of Job to fly commercial today. You wait in line to be checked in, unless you’re paid an extra fee so you can pass through the express line. Then you have to pay if you actually want to take luggage with you on your trip. Airlines used to want you to check your luggage and NOT carry it onboard with you. Now they have devised a system that has everyone carrying their luggage onboard. Next, you wait in line to pass through security, unless you’ve paid extra to pass through the express line.

Once through security, you’re alone and lugging all the stuff, you used to check, with you down the long hall looking for your gate. Along the way you want to pick up a bottle of water, since you had to leave your’s at security. You even think about getting a magazine to read while you wait to board the plane. After paying five dollars for a small bottle of water, you decide you can’t really afford to look at magazines and continue your three mile trudge to the gate, to wait some more.

Because you didn’t buy a first class ticket, an obviously indictment against your worth to society, you have to wait while the “special” people board first. Of course, as you board, somewhere in the middle of the pack, it’s impossible to get down the aisle because everyone is trying to stow their luggage. Once you find your seat, you have to try to find a place to stow your luggage. It worse than fighting off a pack of wild wolves to get your stuff put away before some else grabs the spot, usually some tall, oblivious 20 year old.

You’re finally seated and now you have to start worrying about who will be setting next to you, and in front of you, and behind you. These people will, to a great extent, be determining the level of your comfort for the next several hours. You get the mom with the screaming baby, of the child that likes to kick the back of your seat, or the guy in front who thinks it acceptable to lean his seat all the way back. Who is there a reclining function on an airline seat? Who thought that was a good idea? There are also the people with stinky feet who take their shoes off, the ones who pass gas and the ones who smoked a pack of cigarettes just before boarding. And, the heavy drinkers!

Then, just because this experience isn’t as awful as it could be, let’s just throw in a machincal difficulty that delays takeoff for, oh I don’t know, two hours!

It’s true that planes should have a warning, like aerosol cans, “Caution: Contents under pressure.” In fact, this warning could be spray painted across most public buildings as well.

Hawks and chickens

During the day, at work, I occasionally pull up the Raptor Cam and check out a Red Tailed Hawk nest in downtown Portland. This year a pair of Red Tails laid three eggs and they all hatched. While the little ones were still all fuzzy we lost one. The other two have grown and continue to develop well. At the moment they are busy flapping around the nest and hopping onto the railing and window ledge. It won’t be long until they take up flying. I can’t wait to see that!

If you’re interested in seeing them you can go to: http://www.kgw.com/community/blogs/raptor-cam/KGW-Audubon-Raptor-Cam.html

At this same site there are also some photos of the Peregrine Falcons that nest on the bridge.

I guess this is my year to be fascinated by birds. I go home every evening and let my chickens out to roam the back yard. I love watching them. I also love that as soon as they see me coming out the back door they all run to the end of their enclosure. It’s great to see six little faces all so happy to see me.

I’ve been giving them new and different things to eat: bread, grapes, strawberries, and peanut butter on bread. The last is by far their favorite! They like them all, but something about the peanut butter really get them excited. Wel,l that and the flowers in my containers along the edge of the patio. I keep a spray bottle handy, full of water to shot them with when they start wrecking havoc. I think they are beginning to learn not to mess with the containers, but at the same time they still need regular reminders in a liquid form.

The other day Sugar, who does everything first, started clucking. I mean really clucking, not just a screech as they have all been doing from time to time. The whole gang was all clustered up at the edge of the garden pecking away at grass and leaves, when she began to cluck. Cluuuuck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck……Cluuuuck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck …..Cluuuuck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck. She looked quite distressed, like she couldn’t figure out what was happening. She wasn’t the only one. All of the other girls ran across the yard, next to the run, huddled together and stared at her. They kept their distance for awhile after she had gotten over her little spell. None of them are quite sure what happened but they don’t seem to be looking forward to a repeat.

They are all taking their turns at flying. This usually happens when they have been spooked by something. This could be such terrifying things as a gust of wind, a falling leaf, a butterfly, or nothing at all. All the squawking starts, the running, the wing flapping, and then at least two or three will lift off. At first the landings were a bit rough, but they seem to have gotten the hang of it now.

People keep telling they will fly up into trees if I don’t clip their wings. I don’t have any trees in my yard, and they all seem determined to get back to the run as quick as possible when they get spooked, so I’ve decided not to worry about that. At least not until one of them actually flies up onto a limb of a neighbor’s tree. Then I will be faced with how to get them down. What fun!!

Craigslist and treasure hunts

I have a wire rabbit hutch for sale on Craigslist. This is the first time I’ve tried to sell anything on there, and I have to say I’m not having the best of luck. My ad says, “Rabbit Hutch, wire, $40.00. Wire rabbit hutch in excellent condition.” And, I’ve included a photo. I didn’t think I really needed to say anymore, you know a picture is worth a thousand words, which is a good thing because Craigslist won’t let me use a thousand word. Honestly I don’t think I could come up with that many words for it anyway.

So everybody that has emailed me, all 3 of them, have wanted to know something. Mostly the dimensions, or if it has trays in the bottom. I guess I should go in and edit my ad to include that info, but I can’t seem to find any of the 9 million tape measures I’ve bought over the years! I even buy them in neon colors so they will be easier to find!! I have been reduced to giving approximate dimensions.

My brother can throw up an ad on Craigslist that says, “Ratty old fencing and post, $50.00” with no pictures, and people will get into a bidding war. I am definitely missing the salesman gene!

My brother and his family are coming to visit next month and I sure hope I have this thing sold and off the patio by then. Of course there are other things I need to get off the patio as well, like what is left of the dresser I bought for the drawer to use as nesting boxes, and other parts for other things. Luckily the neighborhood cleanup is just around the corner and just before they arrive for vacation, so this could be a good thing.

Speaking of our soon to arrive family, my family is really heavy on boys, so these visits are always rowdy affairs. Over the past few years we have been doing a treasure hunt. Its great fun weather you’re a treasure hunter part of the planning and set up. Last year, the kids were all old enough to have our treasure hunt spread out over the neighborhood. It took them about an hour to make it through all the clues and arrive at the final location, the field behind my house. My sister, sister-in-law and I were all on the back patio watching them search for the treasure. For 20 minutes they crawled all through the grove of tree trying to find the treasure. They went around the tree the treasure was hanging in about a hundred times. It had a red rope tied to the tree to let it down. But, around and around they went. Those of us on the patio were laughing so hard we were in near hysterics. I’m already planning the hunt for this year, I can’t wait.

The sun is shining, the temps are up, the garden is growing, the chickens are happy and life is good… outside. Unfortunately I’m stuck inside at my deck wishing I was home and outside. Damn! Who came up the idea of work anyway?

Of course on wet and miserable days I don’t mind working inside, or on those hot and humid day. We have so few really exceptional days that I feel staying inside for them is just plain offensive. I’m in search of a car at this very moment so can do some site visits on some of my projects. I won’t even have to carry along my wet gear, just my sunglasses.

I’m in the market for a new warm weather drink. Yesterday I went to lunch with a coworker and she ordered an Arnold Palmer. I was a little taken aback thinking she was drinking during work hours, and she is so not the type to do that. Apparently an Arnold Palmer is half ice tea and half lemonade. Doesn’t that sound lovely? I’m going to mix up a batch this weekend with some good tea, and maybe even splash in a bit of something more potent. I’ll be on the patio if anyone wants to come try it out with me.

Just got back from vacation recently and I thought I should let you all know that my trips through the Kansas City Airport were a great improvement over my previous trip. I made it through without a single meltdown.

Time with the grandkids was awesome!! They’re brilliant, and amazing, and totally wonderful!! I wish I could have packed them all up and brought them home with me.

My daughter is so brave. I don’t think I could what she is doing. Starting college again, with two very small children while here husband is deployed and having no one close by that she knows well. She just makes me so proud! I wish she was closer, or that I could be there more often to help out.

I was driving down the road the other day when I saw one of those things that just make you scratch your head and say, what were they thinking? There is a road side business with a sign out front, and erected next to the business is a big billboard. Now these two signs were stacked on in front of the other, so the first is for the business and says, “XXX Adult Videos”, the billboard is for the Boys and Girls Club and giant letters is says, “Be passionate!” I nearly wreck the car for laughing.

Kansas, not exactly what I thought

OK, I knew Kansas would be a little different, but what do you say when Kansas gets weird? "You're not in Kansas anymore" just doesn't fit the occasion.

This morning on the radio I heard the D.J.s do a phone in contest to give away Extreme Midget Wrestling tickets. I mean really, not just midget wrestling, but EXTREME midget wrestling? I don't even want to think what that might involve. And what was the contest you might ask, well you had to guess the age of the Guinness Book of World Record's smallest person, who could walk. This was a man who recently passed away in China. He was 21, a chain smoker and had reached rock star status in his home country. Or, at least according to the D.J.s.

Following this contest, of which there was no shortage of phone-in participants, they went right into their headlines. The headline given the most attention was of a woman who found an unlit cigarette in the bottom of her son's Happy Meal. The D.J. went on to say that MacDonalds had offered the mother a settlement including free meals for the family and money. The mother has refused and is planning a suite against the food chain. Now apparently the D.J.s had a photo of the child, who happens to be a year old. They made a few comments about the mother in choosing to give her 1 year old son a Happy Meal, then went on to describe the child as a "tank". In fact, they spent quite a bit of time discussing the size of this little boy.

Just driving around here in the sticks of Kansas you will notice a lot of things with the word cowboy, spelled with a "K", Kowboy.

Manhattan, Kansas, where I happen to be is the home of Kansas State University, which by all accounts is an excellent school. Their school colors are purple and white, so everywhere you go there are people wearing purple, purple flags, purple dumpsters, purple everything. No ruby slippers, but I'm dead positive that at least one person here owns a pair of purple glitter shoes.

We visited Ft Riley the other day for a childrens' festival and after wards we went to the PX on post. Along the way we noticed a group of what we thought were horses in a field, but turned out to be mules. Apparently Army mules. Who knew they still existed?

While driving through the post, in its more wooded areas, you will see signs that say "Tank Crossing". These signs should be taken seriously. Drivers should slow down or stop and watch for tanks. Tanks always have the right of way. Well, duh!!

Oddly enough I haven't seen a single scarecrow, even though this is big farm country. The radio is filled with ads for crop insurance, farm equipment, and seeds.

So the next time you think about using the pharse, "You're not in Kansas anymore", you might consider if it really fits the situation, because it may more like Kansas then you imagine.

Vacation to Kansas

This is my last day of work before I leave for vacation, and never has a day gone by so slow! It is now 4:02, and I have decided to leave at 4:30, just in time to catch the bus home. Once I arrive at my car, I will then get in it and head back to Portland, and a party for a co-worker who is leaving us at the end of the month. Very sad for us, good for him. I also need to arrange a ride to the airport. Should have gotten that taken care of sooner. Just realized today that I didn’t have a ride. May need to schedule a taxi.

Tomorrow morning I will register for my boarding pass at exactly 10:10, which is 24 hours before I leave. I’ve set the alarm on my Blackberry. What did we do before we had all these little helpful devices? Then I will have a dentist appointment at 11:00, pick up my prescription in the pharmacy afterwards and head out to get a little shopping done. I have to get a presents for my grandchildren, buy travel sized (or at least something smaller than the super economy sized) shampoo and conditioner. Oh yeah, and I have to go purchase a new camera, because mine broke over the weekend. Ugggh!

In the afternoon I will do the last bit of laundry, plant some tomatoes, and have a good bye conversation with the cat and the chickens, my girls. Then I will do my packing, watch Idol, and get some sleep.

When I would fly to Hawaii, it was a five hour flight and all there was to see was water. It was like the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, “Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink.” or something like that. I was on a plane so I obviously had access to a drink, of many kinds. But, because the flight was 5 hours long and I didn’t want to use the on-flight facilities, I kept my fluid intake to the bear minimum for the 24 hours before my flight landed on the island.

My flight to Kansas is much shorter, but will still be planning my fluid intake to avoid the on-flight facilities. Unlike the flight to Hawaii, there should be plenty to see outside my window, so I don’t have to stay up all night so I can sleep through the flight. Yeah!!

I will fly into the Kansas City airport. This will be my second time. The last time I was 13, and it was my first time to travel by plane. Because my parents didn’t what to have to change planes, they chose a flight that took to Des Moines, Iowa without a plane change, but it stopped at every airport between there and Houston. Kansas City happened to be one, and be the time we make it there, I was really hungry and starting to feel a bit sick. The attendant, for stewardess as we called them then, suggested I get off and grab something from the vending machine and come right back. We had plenty of time for that. So I did.

I found the vending machines just where she said they would be, quickly made my selections, and hot footed it back to the gate. The gate was closed and my blue Branaff was taxing away. I had a melt down. There was shriking and crying and all kinds of goings on. Finally the gate attendant settled me down and pointed to a blue Branaff at the next gate and said, “That’s your plane.” I said, “Oh” I felt like a complete idiot, which I was, and to make matter worse I couldn’t just hope on my plane and avoid all the stares. No, I had to wait for two other plane to clear the terminal before I could reboard my flight. It was the longest 5 minutes of my life. I’m hoping to comport myself better this time around.

Weather, day lilies, and the police

Where is the sunny warm weather? I’m starving for decent temps and some nice warm rays I can bath my aching joints in! Not to mention, I have chickens I need to get in a chicken coop. Of course, I need to get the coop finished first, which means I need some decent weather! Wait, I’m dizzy. It feels like I’m running around on a hamster wheel.

I got a nice email for my friend (hi Wendy) to say she had left me some day lilies on my back porch. (Thanks!) I’m hoping I can get them into the ground this evening when I get home, and I’m really hoping I don’t to do it in a down pour! They should look lovely very soon when they bloom.

My cat is also panting to go outside. She has managed to get out a couple of times under the covered patio in back, but that is about as far as she is willing to venture in the rain. Of course if the rain is too hard, that just freaks her out and she has to run back in and hides under the bed. That’s my fearless kitty!

I am currently in a tug of war with my local police department over my volunteer status. After being approved for volunteer training, I have been suddenly denied with no explanation. To say the least I’m shocked and have asked for an explanation, and been told pretty much, -- tough noogies we don’t have to tell you anything. Since I have been background checked for employment and volunteer work in the past with police and schools, I’m quite taken aback by this development, and stunned by the hard line I’m coming up against. I was a crime prevention specialist for Portland for over 6 years for pity sake! I had a key that allowed me access to every building they occupied. I trained officers in various subjects involving community policing, and routinely sat in on mission and daily briefings. Now Vancouver has a problem accepting me, after I’d been approved?!!

My fear is that this has all arisen as the result of my recent resignation from the board of my neighborhood association, which I have not wanted to make a big deal over. One of the board members is a member of this program, and I think that person has, in some way thrown a wrench in this business. It is just a bit too coincidental that my sudden denial came just after my resignation. I can not let this matter go since there is a very good chance that I will need a background check from the police department in the future related to volunteer work or even future employment, and I can’t have an incident showing where I was denied. This means I may have to drag some issues out of the neighborhood closet I really didn’t want to have to drag out. I’m really hoping someone comes to their senses before this has to get really ugly, that would not do certain neighborhood board members, or the police department, any good.

More over, I really believe in the value and effectiveness of community policing. I have often wished that Vancouver had a program like this one. I have been very eager to recommend this program to people up to this point, but now I don’t think I can in good conscience do that anymore, and that really sucks! I will now have to warn people off, for fear they could end up in a similar situation. I hate this! I could just spit!!

Ok, I’m sure everyone is like this, but maybe not. There are things in weird places all over my house. Most of them I’m sure I have left there, others I’m not sure who left them where they are. For instance there is a glass desk top leaning against the wall in my bedroom. I’m sure I put it there thinking it was temporary when I dismantal it for the new desk. I'm sure I meant to move it out to the garage, the rest of the desk is out there. It’s still in my room and has been for at least a year. It has become invisible to me. I’m hoping now that I’ve embarrassed myself by telling all you this, I will finally remember to get it moved. Maybe I even get it, and all the rest of the odd stuff I have into the neighborhood cleanup this year, or onto Craig's List.

Other items end up in odd places for really odd reasons. Like the cracker box sitting on the vanity in my bathroom. – I should point out that my bathroom is so small that calling the counter a vanity, or a counter for that matter, is being really generous – It got there because I was using it to cover the top of a bucket while carrying my young hens. I was putting them in the bathtub. – I know weird! But, it was raining outside and I had to clean the cage. Where else could I put them? – I put the box there while unloading the chickens and forgot it. It’s been there for two days now.

I’m a little concerned that I will continue to forget it, and then everyone coming into my house and going to the bathroom will think I eat crackers in there. How embarressing would that be?

By the way, who is Craig, and how did he get a list? I'm just wondering.