(((help))))

The mood swings around here are pretty dramatic these days.
Being civil takes extra effort, and every ordinary function like making coffee or getting dressed takes some determined effort.
(Not a window in the house currently has a shred of drapery for privacy...)

The kitchen cabinets are in...but not the floor, or doors or counter tops or sink.

Every light switch and outlet is without a plate cover.
(And how did they decide to use EVERY possible switch color and style in one row?)

The kitchen appliances still grace the living room, with lawn chair, bar stool and $5 teak chair find at the thrift store.

Oddly, guests are still welcomed when they drop by. And they do...we are meeting the neighbors one by one.

(You can still see the kitchen's original color in this shot in the book case in the background.)

The office is painted...baseboards still to go.

And the floor will be sanded and refinished too.

Master bedroom color has been decided via sample flat coat painting of a peachy coral.
Now a "real" layer in eggshell finish will be done.
And of course the floors and baseboard work, outlet covers,closet clothes pole etc...need to be done too

It took some doing to find the pink I wanted that would still be acceptable by my hubbie.

Lots of tries...and a swing through blue as well.

Upstairs bath: Needs the floor tile, doors, sink, toilet, tiles, light fixture, and of course, baseboard paint.

Guestroom: Atmospheric blue is a winner here. It feels like being in a tree house in there.
Sand/finish floor, baseboard, plates, light diffuser...still to go.

Stairs to the basement. Recap the treads and center carpet? Money/time is all we need.

Bob at least is still laughing. He is a good sport, the cat litter box and cat food stink in the unventilated room is no fun.

He will stay until after the 220 moving boxes arrive and get unloaded into this room.

Meanwhile I will need to find closet space for the boxes already here.

Too bad the closets are all being worked on right now..

Not even going to try to make the only completed living space look good.
The table under the window is our coffee pot area. The cereal and cups/spoons are in the cold storage area at the other end of the room, the milk and OJ are upstairs and out in the refrigerator in the garage.
Just getting coffee, juice and cereal pulled together each morning is quite a journey.

My eventual sewing room. Outside they (former owners) merrily piled up dirt against the unsealed wall. Naturally damp seeped in, and the paint blistered off the wall. It will take a special fix..not just a once over easy with Spackle affair.

The bathroom has a frosted window...good to change in. Right now the shower drips, and the cats like to drink water from in there. The drips also splash on the tile floor. Grrr...

The laundry room which is now simple a large sink that B. put in so we could wash paint brushes and cups and spoons and so forth. A folding clothes drying rack holds anything that needs to dry.

Some day...it will be a cute room.

Some day.

Our 220 boxes arrive in 12 days.

(...help....)

I sure hope the contractor can pull all this stuff together before then and I can finish all the painting.

Boy do I ever sympathize with those folks who live in disaster areas long term.

And boy oh boy do I ever hope no one murders us in our sleep.

I would just die if the newspaper showed pictures of our house looking like this!

People would think we were crazy slobs or something.

Well, at least they would have the crazy part right.

Remodeling...renovation.

Crazy.

Just plain old crazy all the time.

Cocktails Anyone???

I have a dream...that once the 50's house is all pulled together, I can host a cocktail party there one evening.
You know the kind of cocktail party that I am talking about: one where the women all wear kicka** cocktail hats and everyone makes witty conversation over drinks.
(Non-alcoholic drinks would be made available for those who abstain from liquor, extra wittiness will be required from them however.)

For this event I see myself providing a nice selection of my cocktail hats to be worn by those who have never thought to acquire such a delightful item for themselves before.

In an effort to add a little reality to this vision, I recently added *yet another* such hat to my collection.

My usual model "Joan" is in storage right now, but real human person Kellie, our campus receptionist was game to model the hat for me.

Kellie is a treat to work with: she wears vintage designer fashions with such grace and confidence that most people just think that she has found fabulous modern items. She couldn't fool me though. You can't get that kind of style except in clothing from the past.
She's in her junior year at the University of Utah, and will become a commercial airline pilot.
Answer phones and taking messages is just a temporary gig...

The dark navy hat with the well known millinery label "Amy" has navy bead work that glow with rainbow irridescence and similar colored sequins that are wrapped with a bias silk strip is held on with two velvet covered side V shaped clips.

The veil is in perfect condition, and can be untied for full face coverage or just pushed back. Kellie found full face to be a bit claustrophobic. It is an option that takes some gutty determination to wear for long.

The Hat Diva sent me a link to see a vast collection of vintage hats...if this one hat leaves you wanting to see more, click here and here!

If it leaves you wanting to own one yourself, get moving to your local antique shop or ebay website.

They are out there, and I got this one for only $20!

(PS: I wore the hat just for fun at work for a moment. Put it on with a ski vest and slacks and turtleneck and headed down the hall to a full to the brim break room with probably 50 students roaming around. NO ONE even blinked an eye. And to think that people say they would feel self conscious in a hat!)

Ohhh too cute!

Another adorable ceiling light diffuser:

Bidding...crossing my fingers....

Baby Central

It seemed to me that years had gone by since anyone I knew had become pregnant.

Then suddenly, every time I turned around, someone else was talking morning sickness and due dates.
Right now wife of the guy in the next office is carrying, the co-worker two offices over is expecting, two women in our church fellowship group are pregnant, plus two of my friends are expecting fresh supplies of grand kids, one blogging friend is expecting grandkid #1, and three bloggers that I don't know personally but read daily are also preggers.
Count 'em...that's ten babies on the way.

(This just in within the hour: make it 11...another friend just called with good news!)

Babies on the way in despite the trying times we live in.

(No surprise there, when the economy tanks, it is easier to just stay home and go to bed early, if you get my drift...)

I'm excited for all of them. Only two (make that three) of these kids in the making are going to be first borns. One is a third, one is a fourth.
The mom of the fourth born is so cool about it.

When I was talking about all the fuss and bother that was generated over first babies (with blog postings along the lines of: I felt the baby move 9 times today. I just praise the Lord for this little one, and ponder how he or she will be used to further His kingdom. I read Scripture aloud to my tummy so he can hear it daily! He is already one and a quarter inches long according to my pregnancy book, and I can't believe I only have 252 more days to go! This is just happening so fast! I also have decided to use Winnie the Pooh classic wall trim instead of the new WTP design, and to show a picture of my bare pregnant tummy each and every week on my blog...) while later, Baby #2 only gets mentioned in passing between further reports of Baby #1 becoming "a little man" (at age 18 months and shaving already presumably) and that he is now able to sit on a trike ALL BY HIMSELF (with five pictures following to document...)

Mom expecting #4 comment: Yeah, that was SOOO three babies ago....

Each baby is miraculous; especially if they are a first born. Subsequent babies, while quite miraculous also, are also rather boring after awhile. They sleep, they eat, they get runny noses, they poo... while that earlier edition baby in the house is tearing up the tracks with all kinds of new tricks.

I don't think I have ever read a blog post about baby #2 that managed to record the wonder of a filled diaper that had nearly the same zeal as the prior blog post about baby #1 grunts and digestive outcome.
It is hard to understand how such amazing events just don't continue to fire up one's interest after awhile.

The kid I grew up with had his first kid a few years back, and being several states away from his mom at the time, he video taped "Baby Margaret" for hours and hours and hours at a time.
Serious...HOURS.

His mom, (who had became a first time mom herself at 40) admitted to me that watching her ONLY child's first born baby sleeping on video just didn't hold her attention for more than a few minutes.

Ditto just about everything else that the 10 day old grandchild did...especially since it was the same stuff Margaret did as a 9 day old grand child, and an 8 day old grandchild etc etc..

Two years later Baby #2 "Thomas" apparently was not quite as interesting...his naps went completely unrecorded. Hopefully Thomas will never find out about the large UStoreIt unit that was rented to hold all the "Baby Margaret" tapes...

Naomi Wolf had an interesting experience with being pregnant the first time.
(You remember her don't you? No? She is a third wave feminist writer with a stunning inability to do decent documentation. I trust, dear reader, that you have managed to keep up with the defining differences between first, second and third wave feminism. If not...perhaps you should. It will make for far more interesting conversation at the next baby shower you attend than sharing exactly where you were when your water broke.)

Yale graduate and Oxford University Rhode scholar Naomi wrote a book called "Misconceptions."

In brief:

Misconceptions examines the modern problems surrounding pregnancy and childbirth. Most of the book is told through the prism of Wolf's personal experience of her first pregnancy. She describes the "vacuous impassivity" of the ultrasound technician who gives her the first glimpse of her new baby. Wolf both laments and rages against the doctor who performed her C-section, (I'm with you there Naomi...) and advocates a return to more personally attached practices akin to midwifery.

Ah yes...when you are a first time mom, naturally every single detail of your pregnancy is so awe inspiring that it is just unfathomable that a person who does something like 16 ultrasounds a day just couldn't work up a giddy over seeing *yet another* jelly bean with a heart beat.

How callous. How sad! How unfair!!!

Following the birth of her children, Naomi made a stunning connection: Abortions kill children.

More stunningly, she also connected the second wave feminism of "women have the right to abort" with the concept that abortion kills a woman's child. She managed a third wave spin on this dilemma: Women must, sadly, sometime make the decision to kill their unborn children, and because that is a sad decision, abortion clinics should be surrounded by women and medical personnel who will grieve and mourn those children while being supportative of the moms.

Naomi lost me there.

Now if she wanted to talk about the fact that sometimes a woman feels she must make the decision to kill her surly teenage, I could probably get on board with that. There's a reason why God included the passage about stoning rebellious children in the Old Testament. God knew parent of teens usually don't have the energy to go collect enough stones to get the job done, but it does give them something to dream about.

I made an interesting discovery over my three decades of parenting:

Everyone blab blab blabs the baby years. Pictures abound!

Everyone brags brags brags the school years. A few pictures are taken!

Everyone drops names of where first born is going to college. A zillion senior pictures get taken!

Everyone get really quiet after that...even if the kid graduates and gets a job.

Everyone is totally silent if the kid drops out of college and doesn't get a job.

Everyone starts talking again once a wedding is in the works. Thousand of wedding pictures!

And then it is back to step one all over again.

My mom has been in a prayer group since I was about ten years old. The ladies have prayed their way through their kids, and have just about finished up praying their grandkids to adulthood.

Those grandbabies were just so precious!

And ultimately they were just as messy as teens as their parents had been, if not more.

(Shaking head...prayer meetings are confidential you know.)

The great grand kids?

Oy vey. Maybe the less said the better!

Wonder what Naomi would feel about all that?
Can't wait until she becomes a grandmother!

Constant Cooker Takes a Day off...

I've got another gift for her, but if the mail would allow me to, I would be sending her this for her Golden birthday.

Because I don't think anyone else would think of it.

Shouldn't every birthday have some gifts that are a total surprise?

It is golden colored after all...

Have a BLAST today, my friend!

Lightening up '50s Style

(Before: Light in our sunroom, which is currently being used as our bedroom.)

Three of our rooms have this cheesy cheap looking replacement "diffuser" on the ceiling fixture, (or what I call them: a ceiling lamp shade.)
I took a look at the BigBox hardware stores and discovered this was the only kind they offered.

I remember when I was growing up in the 50's every bedroom had a ceiling light with a pretty wavy glass diffuser. Some, like my brother's, even had brown cowboys as a motif that was painted onto the glass.

Sorry, this plain disc shape thing just didn't measure up. The round against the subway tile pattern ceiling tile just didn't work. Nor did the fact that the diffuser failed to cover the light bulbs themselves when view from the doorway.

Totally NOT cool.

What to do...what to do...

Well, thankfully here in SLC, there is a splendid building salvage business known as George's Architectural Salvage store. It is quite an experience. The place smells of feral junk yard cats pee, which is only natural as there are several cats around the property, keeping tabs on everyone as the metropolitan versions the classic junk yard dog

You can get just about anything you can image there. Including lots of pink toilets and sinks and even bathtubs for those of us who have taken the pledge to Save the Pink Bathrooms.

(I shared that link with the young woman who waited on me. She is a TOTAL fan of pink bathrooms and it just pains here to see all the torn out pink bathroom fixtures that people bring in to sell. If anyone reading this needs a pink bathroom fixture, just give them a call!)

Anyway, back to the light shade: I was first drawn to this diffuser, which hangs like a bowl from the light fixture by three chains. Isn't it gorgeous? It would look so great in master bedroom with the coral pink paint that I am thinking about.

Sadly, it was already sold.

But...

There was this lovely blue one. The guest room is to be blue; hmmm....

Trouble is, this is actually a style from the 1930s-40s.

Frankly they are gorgeous style, and each bowl is decorated as nicely as a birthday cake.

It took only a little bit to decide against going with that look though. Too fussy for a mountainside ranch house.

You have to be willing to hunt around a bit.

Get a little bit dusty and dirty...

I did find a pile of diffusers.

A few had chips.

Finally I found the perfect one for our sunroom.

It was dusty and dirty, and had a bit of paint speckle on it from a sloppy ceiling paint job long ago.

Ten dollars later, a dunk in sudsy water and some thumbnail scraping on the paint speckles and I had....

After: I love how the grey painted foliage looks like cut glass!
Isn't that a thrifty way to fool the eye.

I'd really like to have a glass or silver nut to hold the diffuser on.

The other rooms have brass nuts.

(Another small detail to be hunting down.)

The botanical theme works well with the garden view room!

I can't wait to continue the hunt for diffusers for the other two rooms.
The search is on!

Whoo hoo!



(PS: Ebay has TONS of the three chain hanging lights selling for well under ten bucks. One vendor suggested using them as bird feeders. I decided to take a spin on ebay right after I posted this, and guess what I saw? This ADORABLE diffuse with a little girl in pink jumping rope. Yup...I bought it. It was under ten bucks too!)

Updating Mark

We just got a call from Bernie's mom. Mark is out of surgery. They didn't have to remove his colon, which was especially good news, and he lost very little blood. The removed organs are at the lab, after the results come back more will be know about the spread of the cancer.
There was one area tied up in major arteries that could not be removed, that will be an area of intense radiation therapy after Mark recouperates a bit.

We are so thankful...

Lights and Shadows

When I said a lot has happened over the past week, I really meant it.

Not only are we up to our eyeballs with a house renovation...

Not only did we have my friend Gail fly in on Thursday...

And our son's future in-laws flew in on Friday for a first time meeting...

We also got a call on Friday evening about Bernie's younger brother Mark.

This is what we learned; none of us had suspected a thing:

Mark was diagnosed with Retroperitoneum Sarcoma in his left upper abdomen on Friday Feb. 13. Mark is to go into surgery prep Thursday, February 19th at 10:00 am.


THAT DATE IS TODAY.

His actual surgery is scheduled for 12:00 PDT. The doctors feels the cancer is malignant. The mass is extremely large and involves the left kidney, spleen, pancreas, stomach, large intestine, rib muscles, and is obstructing his bowels.

During the surgery the doctor plans to remove the kidney, spleen, approx. 1/3 of the stomach, up to 1/2 of his pancreas, colon (large intestines). He will do a possible transverse/descending colon removal/resection. Because of the extent of the damage, the surgery will be quite long.


The doctor said Mark will be in ICU, then transferred to his own room. The hospital stay will be 7-10 days.

4-6 weeks after the surgery he will begin Chemotherapy for approximately 5-6 weeks. The doctor is requesting the maximum dose for Mark because he wants to kill any other cancer cells in his body.

At the same time he will also undergo Radiation treatment for 5-6 weeks.


Mark became a Christian about seven years ago, and is a part of his Fresno church's worship team, playing drums and writing music. He is also a radiation therapist, he is all too familiar with cancer treatment. Both their church and the hospital staff where Mark worked are "there" for Mark and Kathie.


Please be praying for Mark and his wife Kathie, Bernie's parent Barbara and Hal, Bernie and his sister Shari in KY too.

My dad has also had surgery this past week to remove large skin cancers from his face and scalp. He has been battling skin cancer for years, but this surgery was larger than usual.

Bernie has been down with a flu like condition since Sunday, he is better today.

Yeah...a lot and more has been going on. The mixture of happy and painful happening in the midst of household renovation has been surreal. My brain hardly knows what to focus on.

All I can say for certain is that I know all of what is happening in our life has come to pass and not stay. And that a lot of other people face joy and pain today as well.

All of which is to be experienced best simply one day at a time, with patience and grace, and the loving support of friends and family who also care.

Our daughter, Mark's niece has been a cancer nurse for many years. She posted the following prayer guide on her blog; I'm copying it here for anyone to use for Mark and for anyone else who faces such kinds of surgery:

Today is a big day. It starts with me doing my first "civic duty" in being called to jury duty. Admittedly, I am glad for the break from work.But bigger, and way more significant that that, my uncle Mark is about to be placed under anesthesia, and his life is going to be placed into the hands of doctors, nurses, anesthesiologists, and scrub techs. He is going to have a massive tumor removed from his abdominal area, and to spare all the non-medical people out there the gorey details, it is going to be massive.So my heart is heavy, and because of his medical background, he and I both know exactly what he is up against. Sometimes knowledge is a blessing, sometimes it just makes it that much worse.I can't imagine what he is feeling, and how emotionally and physically drained he is.But I know this. He is a strong Christian man. I know he has the best surgeons on his team. I know God has His hand on Mark.I have peace amongst the fear, even though I don't know how the next few days will play out. I know the plan, I know the medications they will be using, I know how the surgeons will pass the scalpel. I know how they start the IV's. I know how they will call the "time out" and I know how they will be composed.And then I know God will do what needs to be done next.So I pray. I pray for the hands of the surgeons. I pray for the pre-op nurse to get the IV in without any trouble asceptically. I pray that the wait time is minimal. I pray that the team in the room is anointed, and blessed by the Holy Spirit. I pray that no bacteria come into the room. I pray that sterile technique is maintained throughout the surgery. I pray that the team in Marks room slept well last night, and is at their peak today. I pray that God reveal anything that needs to be revealed during the operation. I pray that Marks veins and arteries remain intact, and that he does not bleed any more than absolutely needed. I pray that the edges of this tumor remain intact, and that the tumor is able to be removed. I pray that while Mark is under the anesthesia, that he is at peace. I pray that his organs operate in the way God intended them to work, and that he does not drop his pressures, and that his cardiac rhythm remains in sinus rhythm. I pray that when the doctors have removed the entire tumor, that there are no unseen cancerous cells left in his body. I pray that he comes out of anesthesia comforted, and that he does not become nauseated or have pain. I pray for the discernment of the nurses to recognise any symptoms before they manifest themself, and take swift action. I pray that God uses this terrifying experience to bring healing and blessings to everyone involved. I pray for my grandmother, that she have strength to get through this, and say just the perfect words that need to be said at just the right time. I pray for my grandfather through this frightening experience. I pray for Kathie that the peace light upon her and she can be a pillar of strength through all of this.Thank you for joining me in lifting up Mark and our family in prayer. It is good to be me, and to have such a wonderful support through this blog. So thank you, everyone who is reading this, for being a blessing to me.

Meet the In-Laws

Bernie, Bruce, Debra and Jill:

"The In-Laws"

Yes, Valentine's weekend my future DIL Rachel, ( or "Jill's Dil" as I call her..) parents came out for a visit.
It was time for the parents of the happy couple to meet.
Friday evening we met at a restaurant, had a marvelous dinner and were chattering away like old friends within minutes.
Later we went to Jeff's for dessert.
I had specifically brought my camera to record the momentous meeting, but completely forgot to use it.
The conversations over dinner and dessert were just too interesting!
Later Debra bemoaned the fact that she didn't get a picture of us meeting...
yup, I think we were destined to be friends!

We all attended church together and later they came by to see our house.
I made Debra promise to come to see it again after it all was done.
(It just rattled me to think of her forever more picturing us camping out in our crazy colors chateau!)

(I laughed when I enlarged this picture. Honestly, have you EVER seen an engagement ring glow like the one on Rachel? No wonder the guys were wearing sunglasses in the first picture. Beware of blinding bling!)

To tell the truth, I fretted about meeting them.
What if they were people that I wasn't comfortable with?
What if they didn't laugh or talk or share about themselves?
I wanted SO much to have my future grand children's co-grandparents be people I liked.
Well, the word "like" just doesn't do it to describe how I feel about these people.

Frankly, I wish they would MOVE to SLC so we could hang out together more often.
I absolutely adore these two!
Bruce shared about his mission trip to India to build a water/sewer treatment facility that also provided methane gas for cooking...
Debra shared about how much she likes her principal at the school where she is a special ed speech pathologist.
These are the kinds of things that makes me nod my head and say "Cool!!"

So the six of us gather on the deck, and we said a prayer and we toasted our future as a family.
Siblings we all are anyway through Christ, but now we are to be family in another way too.
It already just feels natural.

PS: Debra brought out her MIL (whoops, I mean MOB...thanks Lovella!) dress to show me.
She got it at killer price.

Oh such a deal she got. You just would not believe me if I told you so I won't.
Now that's the kind of lady I can relate with!

The wedding colors are navy and fuchsia. Debra's sleeveless dress and 3/4 length jacket is a soft duponi silk texture mauve fabric with a scattering of sequins and bead work. Just perfect for a morning wedding with just enough sparkle to balance the sparkle of a tear of joy or two.

I loved how she shared with me that she shopped with one of her best friends, and when she noted that the dresses seemed to look like Mother of the Bride dresses, her friend told her she had a flash for her: You ARE going to be the Mother of the Bride. Get on with it, buy a dress already!

Valentines of all sorts

Ahhh yes...Valentine's Day!
Celebrated with loving made (ahem...OK, store bought...) Valentine's cookies AND chocolate covered strawberries.
YUM!
OK, enough of that mushy stuff.
Back to work.
We've got a whole house to paint!

Best Girl Friend Gail came out to help with the painting efforts.
You know how you can tell a Best Girl Friend?
It is the person that when you call on a Friday afternoon in melt down mode, calmly says:

"I'm driving out to see you right now."

(She lives in Colorado Springs; it is an eight hour drive in best conditions.)
A quick check on the cost of gas, and the time, and a quick look at airfare lent a bit of sensibility to the offer and minutes later a flight was booked for the following Thursday afternoon.
I explained that we were basically camping out with one bathroom sink, and no kitchen.
She would have to sleep on an air mattress and bring her own towels.
She said she didn't care.
She would come anyway to be with me.

Gail flew in this past Thursday afternoon, and I was able to show her all the places in SLC that I had been wanting to go to with her.
You know; girl time.
Valentine's Day it snowed like crazy and Gail, Bernie and I painted the kitchen, living room and a couple of closets.

Mid 50's bodies painting mid 50's house = {I'm pooped!}
Such a way to celebrate a day devoted to love!

Please notice that Gail is wearing a pink turtle neck.
She had brought grubbies to paint, but then asked if I had a long sleeve shirt that she could borrow to paint in as well.
I handed her the old pink turtleneck that I had used another day under a sweat shirt to paint before.
(it was now freshly washed...)
She put it on and went to the rollers with zeal.
Later when we looked at the walls totally knackered, she took a moment to point out to me just how much she loved me.
No, it wasn't the painting (although that is not her most favorite past time...)
It was the fact that she meekly slipped on the PINK shirt.
Gail HATES pink.
She almost becomes ill at the suggestion of pink anything.
Knowing how we are "just basically camping and making do" she just this once swollowed her revulsions and put the shirt on and got on with what needed to be done.

I knew how she felt about pink; and just plain old forgot it in the craziness of the tasks at hand.
She was bearing the pink for me.
The funny part?
I can't bear to listen to the music while I work.
(Earworms and all...)
The contractors had left a radio in the living room; Gail switched it on to an oldies station and together we rocked and rolled while we paint rolled.
If Gail wanted to listen to music, then music it would be!
Cuz' I just love my friend and whatever Gail wants, as far as it is possible for me to make happen,
Gail gets.
Including listening to that old time rock and roll!

(please be praying for Gail...she was one of the 1/3 reduction of work force at Focus on the Family. It looks like she has found a new job...but until you sign on the dotted line...you just keep looking, you know what I mean? She is her own sole support....)

In the name of....

Moving...and a slow Internet connection in the area made blogging with my own pictures impossible the first week in our new place.

SOOO much happened in that week; now we have a different provider, and it is possible to post with picture of my own again.

The first Sunday in February, at the local Aquatic Center....

At last our son...

was immersed, and baptised.
He has been a Christian since childhood; yet became a wayward teen and young adult.
Recently he has renewed his dedication to Christ, and heeded the commandment to be baptised.
He was dedicated as an infant; the decision as to when to be baptised was left to him.
At age 28 years and 11 months...it was at long last the appointed time.

And his fiancee was there to see it too, and take pictures to record the event as well.
She got the first kiss after he came out from the water.
I got the next.
Years of prayers had been answered in that moment.
A long time coming, but it came.

Happy 200th Birthday! You Should Of Been An E Ticket!

Happy 200th Birthday Mr. Abraham Lincoln!

(And shame, shame, SHAME on Google, again. Last year they didn't bother to give Lincoln's birthday a nod via a re-do of the Google logo.

Last year I wrote a whole post about that appalling disrespect.

But...I figured they would probably acknowledge the big 200th birthday though.

I was wrong. Today they acknowledged Charles Darwin's birthday instead.

Because, you know, Charlie D. has done soooooo much for mankind.

Grrrrr....)

Thinking about Mr. Lincoln brings back a memory that perhaps other my age share.

A time when we had to chance to sit before Mr. Lincoln, and see him stand up and talk about his dreams and visions for mankind.

An opportunity that most of us took mostly because it was hot outside, the room Mr. Lincoln was seated in was air conditioned, and because it didn't require any ticket to get in.
That memory came back to me the other day while I was chatting with B. about Disneyland "E" tickets.

Those of us who grew up in the '50's and '60's in Southern California know exactly what I mean by that phrase. To get everyone else up to speed, let me explain the significance of an E ticket:

It used to be, long, long ago, in a far away galaxy called "Disneyland" people would purchase ride tickets in booklets. The booklets had A, B, C, D, and E ticket which corresponded to the amusement park's rides.

E tickets allowed you to ride the really BIG rides, like the Matterhorn. There were something like eight E ticket rides in the park; the booklets only contained six E tickets.

You had to chose which ride you would have to miss.

Or at least most of us had to chose. The purchase price of an extra ticket was substantial, and "back in the days," parents had no problem staying in budget AND letting kids learn that you can't have everything they want. That was just part of life, and it was good to learn that fact at an early age.

Today Disneyland has one price entry fee for ALL rides, and you can even make reservations so you don't have to stand in line for an hour and forty five minute to take a ride that would last 45 seconds. (This is a true life experience: we did exactly that with our kids when they were little, and just HAD to go on the Dumbo the Flying Elephant ride.)

Now there were always more D tickets than E tickets, more C tickets than D tickets and so on. The most tickets in the booklet were the A tickets. The A tickets were to stuff that little kids would like, like the Merry-Go-Round, and a kiddy car ride.

And there was one attraction in the park that required NO ticket at all: Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln, sponsored by Lincoln Savings.

Disney had just perfected the animation technique which would later be used to make those wily pirates come to life in the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. But while we were kids, all that Mr. Lincoln could do was (amazingly!) stand up from a seated position, and talk, moving his head and mouth and hands as he "talked" through his famous speeches.

I (and most other kids) found the speech to be pretty dull. But as I mentioned before, it was a place where you could sit in a nice theater seat in an air conditioned room and take a break from all that standing in line stuff.

I can still see Mr. Lincoln's blue eyes opening and closing as he talked. I just can't remember a word he was saying.

The conversation with Bernie about E tickets drifted to the free exhibit of Mr. Lincoln. Why, we wondered, did Mr. Walt Disney feel so strongly about Abraham Lincoln that he dedicated an entire building to him?

Mr. Lincoln was originally present at the New York World Fair in 1964...right around the 100th anniversary of the Civil War. There were still enough folks around that had family members that had fought in the Civil War that it all must have seen pretty important still.

Our conversation drifted to today. If Mr. Disney was to create an entire theater to showcase just ONE historical figure, who would he choose?

Sadly I think I know. He likely would have chosen the man for whom a major street is named in every American town (unlike Lincoln...or even Washington for the matter.)

He would likely have chose the man for whom parades are still held, and in the City of Houston, TWO parades are held each year.

A man that has his own holiday day. Lincoln and Washington now share a single day designated as "President's Day." I'm afraid most school children would be unable to name the two people who were presidents and who used to each have a holiday for celebrating their February birthdays.

He is the man that children have told me WAS a president. (He wasn't...)

Yes, I believe Mr. Disney would have capitulated to popular culture and would have build a theater to present another assassinated historical figure: Dr. Martin Luther King.

When we were kids, we wiggled and squirmed and got very little out of the "Great Moment" with Mr. Lincoln. The adults that shepherded us around the park rarely made much of the speech or the man.

I wonder...if it was today, and it was MLK, would all children be allowed to give scant heed to what was being said?

I don't know. Perhaps by 2060, we will be over the popular culture greatness of MLK.

I just never imagined that by 2009, America (and Google...) would be so over Mr. Lincoln as well.

Looking back, I think a Great Moment with him should have rated an E ticket at the very least.

(You can experience the Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln via YouTube at this link. Good stuff, huh? Even when you don't need a place to sit in air conditioning!)

A Good Reason for Regretting Becoming a Librarian

I've just been asked to research what is precisely permitted by law in student esthetician clinics/classes in terms of practicing Brazilian waxing.

OMG.

(everyone sing along...)

Mama don't let your babies grow up to be librarians.
Don't let 'em pick titles and drive them book carts.
Make 'em be doctors or work at Walmart.
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be librarians.
They're always researching and they're always alone
Even with data they love.

Librarians ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold
And they'd rather give you information than diamonds or gold
Wearing big hair buns and old clunky shoes, each night begins a new day
And if you don't understand her and she don't die young
She'll probably just research away.

Mama don't let your babies grow up to be librarians.
Don't let 'em pick titles and drive them bookcarts
Make 'em be doctors or work at Walmart
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be librarians
They're always researching and they're always alone
Even with data they love.

Need work? Love animals?

Ever wish you could have more wild wolf interaction in your life?
Of course you do!
Well, did you know that with just a few short months of training, you could become a professional wild wolf massage therapist?
And best of all, there are job openings happening all the time, even in today's troubled economy.
Call you local massage therapy school and register for classes TODAY!

From: Massage Therapy Journal Winter 2008

Wendy Van de P*ll has answered the call of the wild in her practice. She runs a successful business in rural Sandwich, New Hampshire (....) She has been a licensed massage therapist since 2000.

Q: What inspired you to take up animal massage?

A: I used to be a wolf ecology professor. A group of us were studying wolf behavior in the wild, and one day an alpha male wolf woke up paralyzed. No one knew why. We brought in health care providers including an acupuncturist and a massage therapist. I saw how beneficial massage was for the wild wolf. He survived, walked and maintained his alpha status. At that moment, I realized massaging animals was my calling.

Q: Where do you work?

A: I travel to my four-legged clients...

Q: What are some common animal aliments?

A: It depends on the sport.

I just wish Wendy didn't live on the east coast. I think she would make one heck of an interesting dinner party guest. Can't you just imagine how it would go?

"Oh Steve, Mary...come over here. I want you to meet my friend Wendy. She massages wolves in the wild. Why don't you three chat and get to know each other a little better while I get the dinner rolls out of the oven."

Does the CIA know about this?

One of my tasks at work today was researching Aesthetic school's spa menus around town.

You know...the places where you can go to get beautiful, via masks and wax, manicures and pedicures.

Some of those menus made restaurant menus seem dull by comparison.

Vanilla Creme facials...Chocolate Raspberry Pedicures...Orange Spice Lymphatic Massage.

It was so hard to stay at the desk when such dreamy body care is available for a pittance at the local beauty schools.

On the other hand...one school offered eyebrow, upper lip, bikini, Brazilian, underarm, leg and arm waxing.

Not quite so tempting...

Nothing new there. They are just somewhat painful beauty treatments that are sometimes necessary to look well groomed.

Then I read:

Nostril Waxing.......$5.00

Just reading the words makes my eyes water.

How would they get the wax up there?

How would they get it OUT of there?

It occurs to me that at $5 a pop, perhaps this is the perfect solution to water boarding torture.

I can imagine how it could go at one of the terrorist holding camps:

"Tell us what you know about jihad...what is being planned...when, where...tell us NOW or we'll be giving you a spa treatment! Tell us or your ugly hair spouting nose is going to be

sorry, I PROMISE you. Hahaha haaaa ha! And you thought the chest waxing we did yesterday was bad...you haven't seen nothing yet!"

Later, when confronted by the media about possible torture, the captors can say with a perfectly straight face:

"We treated them well! We even gave them spa treatments!"

Basement: Before, After and a Surprise

Before: Dark gloomy basement: View to the west.

Low loop pine green carpet.

Ewww...

After: Not gloomy now basement: View to the west.

A tad bland, but pictures on the walls and furniture will jazz it up later.

The new carpet: beige with fireplace rust flecks and sage green flecks.

(and it is super soft....)

Basement before: view to east.

Basement after: View to east.

I've been researching a lot about 50's ranch houses. The basement was usually used as a recreation room.

With very specific elements.

As the carpet guys started tearing up the old rug, I watched and waited, hoping....

And my hope was not in vain.

A true 50's style entertainment center: an INLAID shuffle board court was under that dismal old carpet.

Ahhh...one of the joys of discovery that comes with remodeling an older home.

Can't you just picture it now?

A roaring fire, bottle of soda pop and chex mix...

The kids all dressed like Richie and the gang from "Happy Days"?

Cool!

It just broke my heart to have to cover it all up again.

But since floor tiles are made of that oh so popular '50's style asbestos...

(which is fine is you don't scuff or buff or break it in anyway...with scuttling shuffle board pucks for instance)

it had to be safely covered again with wall to wall carpeting.

Sigh.

At least I know it is there.

The packers will be here in the apartment in an hour, gotta run.

It is moving day again...the third time in five months.

One more 'moving day" to go, when our Houston household furnishing gets moved into the house in March.

After that, I just want to find a good (safe surface) shuffleboard court and play away the day.

Monday , Tuesday, Happy Days....we're gonna rock around the clock tonight!

Ranting For Our Future RNs

I am livid.
Stark raving pitch a fit in the front office ranting until my eyes bug out livid.

One of our employees is signing up for a skin care program now being offered by our school.
Why is she doing that?
She figures that with that training, along with her massage therapy degree she will be able to make enough money to fund her true academic goal:

Getting a degree in nursing.

That is, of course, if she can get into a nursing program.

She is plenty smart. The problem is that there are not enough nurses who are willing to become college faculty at $20-40 thousand a year (after getting a Master's Degree) when they could be out there making twice that much money working as a nurse with just a basic degree.

So selfish of them....

Now why does this girl's plan to "Mask and Moisturize for Moolah" make me livid?

Because if she was a guy who wanted to go to college to play a sport, her entire tuition would likely be paid for.

And if she was good at her sport (in the same way that she currently is "good" at nursing related skills) she would not have to worry about not having anyone available to teach her required course work at a greatly reduced salary.

Why is that the case you may ask?

Answer: Because the "Faculty" for a degree in football get paid...are you ready for this?

Typically One MILLION dollars. Or more. Per year!

For "teaching" a goofy sport for five months a year.
Other kinds of sports "teachers" get paid almost equally well.

(oops, there isn't really a degree called "football" or "basketball" or "golf" , but there is money given to people who go to college to PLAY those games.)

Of course people (and by that I mean MEN) would argue that a good sports team brings lots and lots of money into the school.

So true.

Call me a sicko, but frankly seeing the owner of the Utah Jazz having a double amputation makes me wonder: was it important to him that he had nurses available to assist him as he recovered?

Or would it have been enough to have a couple of B-ball boys hanging with him until his stumps scabbed over?

Was the owner of the Carolina Panthers appreciative of the nursing staff following his recent heart transplant, or did he really wish the RN could have been a RW or QB instead?

Those guys make a living from the those sports scholarship folks that brought lots and lots of money to their schools. Money which in turn mostly gets used to build bigger and better sports programs which will bring in more money to build...you guessed right, more sports programs.

Once, just once, I'd like to see universities give all their sports program dollars to build their nursing programs, and pay nurses a six figure salary to teach LIVE SAVING INFORMATION for a change.

I'd like to see ALL aspiring nurses be PAID to go to school. A stipend, which they would get in addition to their "Paid in Full" tuition, just like the sweaty (but useless in an emergency) jocks get.

And if that is not possible, then I would suggest an alternative strategy:

Everyone involved with college sports and professional sports will not be able to have nurses available to them when they need them.

Just like the rest of us won't be able to have nurses when we need them either in a few years.
Maybe it will all even out: No nurses to care for sports injury = no sports.

It would be a lose-lose, but we can take comfort in knowing that if we won't be able to see professional football games, we can just tune into porn instead.

Lately, between Janet Jackson and this past SuperBowl, I'm not sure we could tell the difference anyway.

(Aside: Comcast apology: We are mortified by the incident and we apologize to our customers.
Apparently, like the child molester who was mortified by being caught but not actually mortified for molesting, we can be sure Comcast will continue to deliver porn with nary a twinge of guilt. Isn't the Super Bowl the only time that men aren't paying to view the stuff? That free sample was probably a great idea to get the guys back to it after the game was over!)

Learn more about the nursing shortage here.

And the next time someone wants to talk about sports, talk about nursing instead.

(This post is dedicated to LauraRN and RunningWildlyRN, PG and all the other nurses out there who should actually have their very own trading cards, Bowl Games, cheerleaders and product endorsement deals for fancy cars and nursing shoes. You go girls!)

somebody...please...help us....the colors...aggghhh!!!

So on Friday we figured out PERFECT downstairs carpeting.
Easy peasy, after one trip to Home Depot and Lowes who assured us carpet could be delivered in three short weeks.
Oops...want NEW carpet BEFORE taking up residence downstairs.
Headed over to a local carpet company, found just the thing, and dragged a sample home, just to be sure.
It was PERFECT!
Great price, great color, great texture, love how it feels...so happy are we!

Jeff dropped by.
"You are getting that carpet? Everyone has that carpet."
(No Jeff, actually everyone does NOT have that carpet. We don't have that carpet...yet. After we get it, THEN everyone will have that carpet.)

The carpet folk will measure on Tuesday and the new carpet will be deliver on Friday.
That means we've got to get the downstairs painted NOW!

So you tell me: what wall color goes with this?
$75 per hour interior decorator suggested very dark grayish green.
(Dark grey green for a basement room with one window???)

As you can see, those wacky '50s folk have knocked themselves out with combining pinkish mauve mortar and orangey red bricks with dark brown speckles.

This is the pit of heck where I am trying to get the "naughty pine" to give up it's nearly black brown bottom paint and white white top paint.
We went ahead and painted the rest of the room a color called Friendly Beige.

Or maybe it was named Light Beige.
Whatever.
Something fairly blah.
You can see it on the wall beyond the fireplace.
It really made the room look great, except where The Paint That Will Not Be Stripped lives in the corner.
Today I made progress on it using a hair drier and sand paper with grit the size of bird gravel.

After painting the walls and the rest of the panelling, we needed to paint the baseboards some color.
White seemed too pure next to the fireplace, so we dropped down three tone on the seven chip paint sample stick to stay in the same color grouping.
Bought a sample jar, and B. painted up the baseboards and door casing.

I was very suspicious of the color which was called Toasty. It looked like baby poop golden brown to me, and oddly it clashed with the somewhat pinkish Friendly Beige.

B. said he needed to see more of the baseboards painted to decide.
After two more hours of painting down on his hands and knees, he was sure he didn't like the color either....

And that, boys and girls, is why God made hot tubs.