Let's Kick It Off

Here we are already into the second month of the year 2007. Totally wild, isn't it? It is blowing past in a whirlwind and I still feel like I am scratching at an icy surface trying to come up for air

Welcome to my world. It will never get any better than it is right this very instant. I've come to accept those limitations and to try and enjoy the moments when I can languish in the moments of a placid time of sanity and quiet. Those times only seem to last nano seconds and so should be savored and held in highest esteem.

Since the last entry Halloween was a huge success with the grandbabies all dressed adorably...we had 2 of the 3 muskateers and a little black kitty with pink trim. All made a killing in the candy department and even had enough for us adults.

The grandsons celebrated birthdays and turned  8 & 7 and Pat had a birthday and turned 64. Octber was a happening kinda month.

November brought us Thanksgiving, for which I worked to ensure that I could be off for Christmas, and it worked.

Christmas was fantastic, and probably one of our best ever. We had the family over for Christmas dinner and we temporarily lost one of the grandchildren in a pile of Christmas paper when packages were being unwrapped.

Then there was New Year's and I worked it too, so that I could be off for Mardi Gras which will be on Feb 20th this year and we will all be riding a float in it again this year.

Pat and I will also be riding our Harleys in 3 other parades this carnival season...one on the 11th and two on the 18th and the 18th is also Mama's birthday.

March will also bring a visit from the new found sister and her two children right about the same time as the St. Patty's parade, which we simply MUST attend, and that falls around our anniversary.

April will bring tax time, my birthday (which I plan to sneak in silently) and JAZZFEST!!!!!!! And on the 20th, we have a wedding that I have been in the process of planning for my stepson and his future bride.

Then we are into May....sweet May, which takes us to my beloved Ireland and Scotland for a vacation, a much needed vacation. I am so tickled that John Clod is going to be joining us for this trip. It is the trip of a lifetime and I can't imagine him not going with us.

I can't even think of what comes after that. I know that John Clod and Pat want to plan a trip for us to go on the bikes somewhere in late summer or early fall and I am all for that, especially since the two of them got new bikes. In a sense....so did I. You see, when Pat got his new one, I more or less inherited his 2004 Wideglide because he and John Clod feel like I need to get away from my 1997 one and get onto a fuel injected model that performs better in the mountains and in cooler weather. I've agreed, but it'll need some "modifications".

Well...still, it is a new year, and I am ready to kick it off!

Deep Breathing & Relaxing Is A Myth

Don't you just hate it when someone is always right? Well, surprisingly, this time it was me. If you read my last blog entry, I was talking about how it'd been such a good day, and in general...life seemed to be going eerily well for me and how I was having a hard time just sitting back and enjoying it rather than waiting for the other shoe to fall. Life has never seemed to go smoothly enough to allow me to relax completely if things went uncomplicated for more than a single day, otherwise I'd suspect I was living in some parallel life instead of my own.

 My goal had, however, become to strive to change all that. I wanted to put forth serious effort in learning to kick back more, to be able to be like those people that could stop and smell the roses, to just be able and kick back and take life slow and easy and believe that I was entitled to good times, to take deep slow full breaths. Sounded good, right?

Cut to the very next morning, to the wake up call I get from my mother, who is terribly upset over a series of phone calls she has been receiving, first from a woman who claims to have gone away with my late father almost 50 years ago, and after having an affair with him, in the fall after my parents had just married, saying she'd conceived a daughter during that time. Then my mother tells me she's been receiving phone calls from the alleged daughter.

Welcome to my world.

Needless to say, after that wake up call, my day started with a bang. It took many phone calls that day, to my poor mother, who's been through so very much already, to our attorney (to find out what I should or shouldn't do - should or shouldn't say....funny, it almost felt like if I were to ever be arrested for something and just making sure you didn't do the wrong thing, you know?). And I made calls to the girl..well, not really a "girl" I don't guess...she's older than I am and 48 years of age after all, anyway she tells me her story and I take it all off my mother's shoulders.

By early afternoon, I sit with my husband, recounting all of it over to him and feeling pretty much blasé about the whole thing. And you know, THAT hit me as strange. I mean, I kept thinking, I think I should be feeling something here...I don't know, either excitement over the prospect of a long lost sister, or rage that our whole family unit has been disrupted and that my mother's world is turned upside down (again), or distrust....SOMETHING! But I just felt nothing. Numb with shock perhaps? I don't know. Confused? Certainly. That was what I was feeling. Well, at least it was something. I could go with that. But for some odd reason, stranger to myself and stranger to explain, I found myself totally believing the possibility, no the probability that this was all true, and that was even without one shred of evidence. I say that because let's face it...it isn't like my father was still around to ask, he passed away in 1985, and all I have to go on for the past few hours is the story some stranger has given me over the phone. Weird, huh?

As the day went on and turned into night, I found myself feeling more strange about the entire set of circumstances. I also had memories come flooding back, both good and bad and found myself having to deal with all of that again. There was some resentment that crept in as a result of that but I fought it off. I've tried so hard to unpack the useless baggage in my life that I never want to have to deal with any of it again, no matter what comes up in my future.

What a weird ass day!

Want the highlights of all this? Okay, now stay with me here.

Keep in mind that my parents met July 22, 1958 when my dad, who'd been divorced for a few years, was living in New Mexico and was traveling to Mississippi to pick up his very young son (aged 5or 6 at the time, I think), for a weekend visit. He could only have him for the weekend and had to work that Friday so he was driving like crazy. My dad stopped in Shreveport, Louisiana to pick up his youngest sister to help with the driving so he could get some sleep on the rest of the drive to Mississippi and she asked if a friend of hers could come along and help with the night driving since she wasn't too good at it. He agreed. The friend turned out to be my mother. He was immediately taken with her and after he'd picked his son up and returned to Louisiana with him for the weekend, he asked my mother out. She agreed and joined him and his son for dinner and a movie. After he had to drop his son off at the end of the weekend, he made plans to return to Shreveport every weekend from New Mexico to court my mother. He'd get off work on Fridays, drive in, get up Sunday mornings and drive back to New Mexico, and go to work on Mondays. By the end of August, he told her she'd have to marry him or kill him because the driving was doing him in and he was head over heels in love with her. They married September 15, 1958. My father died from cancer in 1985.

Now not too long after he died is when the woman that claims to have gone away with him for a weekend contacted my mother. That was 21 years ago. I remember my mother telling me about the woman calling her. She was very upset, as you can imagine. We had just buried my father, and now some strange woman is calling, telling my mother that she'd had an affair with her husband, AND had a child out of wedlock with him.

There were a few problems with her story though. It wasn't that she'd waited until after he had died to make contact, because even though she never said it, I could have given her credit that maybe...just maybe she was a decent human being that didn't want to take a chance on upsetting his home life or possibly ruining his marriage or something. I mean, it was possible, right? Once he was dead, she didn't owe anything to his widow or his children by his widow, but maybe thought only for her child. I could see that as a possibility. M-a-y-b-e. I was giving a LOT of room for doubt there, but no, that is not where the problems with her story were, but when she said they went away in the fall of 1958...my mother said it was impossible because my parents were together every weekend from July 22nd on that year and my father went back to Louisiana with my mother for Christmas to see her parents that year, so there was never a weekend that she and my father could have gone away together that fall. That was problem #1.

When she told the woman that, she said then the woman told her "Well, it was '57 or '58." She didn't know which one?!! I think if I'd had a child from a guy...especially a married one, I'd damn sure know which year I got pregnant! Problem #2.

It just didn't make any sense to me, so when my mother told me about the call, I told her not to worry about it. People read names in the obituaries and sometimes try to scam people - especially if they think there is any money to be had. It is sad that they try to profit on someone's grief and at their most vulnerable and hurting times, and it was just lucky that I couldn't find the woman at that time for causing my mother so much more pain.   That was 21 years ago that she got that call.

My father's birthday would've been on the 6th of this month. He would've been 80 years old. My parents' 48th wedding anniversary would've been on the 15th. September has always been an emotional toughie for my mother an me. Add to it the fact that 7 years after my father passed away, my mother remarried to an angel of a man, and after about 10 years of marriage, he unexpectedly died on September 1st....well, we almost hate to see the month even appear.

Earlier this week, she got the 1st in a series of phone calls from a woman that calls herself my father's illegitimate daughter, who says she was born exactly one month before my parents got married.

When she and I spoke, she explained she wasn't raised by her mother for most of her life. she was 11 when a hateful grandparent (her words) told her the man she thought was her father wasn't. She wasn't sure if it was true or said to be hurtful but that the grandparent added she had "an older sister that looks exactly like you that lives in Hobbs...and we are the same age for one month and then she turns a year older on Sept 15th" (so I guess they are 11 months apart). so then there are TWO?!! She says as she got older, she noticed she didn't really look like her siblings or other family members and when her mother came around again, she started asking questions. At first, she says her mother neither confirmed nor denied, but later only gave her a name, saying she didn't even know if it was his real name or not (guess I don't have to ask if they knew each other well or were really close or not, do I?). She finally named the town and state. The girls says for the last month she's done a lot of digging on the internet and made phone calls and found out my father only has one surviving brother left as one had just passed and she named them. She knew all the siblings sisters, but she didn't know my father's full name. Strange?

She said all she wanted was to know what he looked like, what he was like, some medical history to give to her children (daughter-aged 10 and son-aged 6).

I went ahead and answered her questions. No DNA matching, no hard evidence, no pictures of my father and her mother together, no just reasons, why? I don't know. I just did.

Do I believe it? I don't know.

Do I think it is possible? In my life? Oh hell yeah! I probably have 96 brothers and sisters running around that I don't know about!

Deep breathing and relaxing is a myth.

Getting My Groove On

I think I am starting to get my groove on. Can it be? At long last? Or am I getting suckered into a false lull? There is a part of me that wants so desperately to just sit back and enjoy this moment of peacefulness before the next storm hits, but then there is the other part of me, the part that REALLY knows what's going on, that says you better keep your left up so that you don't take one to the head and go down for the count.

 Why is it so damn hard for me to just relax and enjoy the good times?! I mean, hell, I know they aren't going to last. I know that I am going to have to deal with the crap soon enough, so I should just take a little breather and just enjoy this moment and reprieve while I can. Why then, is it so difficult for me? Why is it so unnatural for me?

I guess this is one of those things that I am going to have to work on myself about. (THIS could be tough.)

 Okay then, this has been a good day.

I got to sleep in late...sort of. I mean, I started to get up early and go to a department meeting this morning at 07:30, but then decided, "screw it...I will go to the 7:30 p.m. meeting...roll over and go back to sleep", and I did! It was great. In many ways, it was even better because it was almost like a form of rebellion.

Then I had breakfast with my loving husband, and we had a nice visit. We played with our puppies, Tegan and Tarren, and then, before I left to go and get my hair done, I booked our flights to Ireland for this coming May.

We found flights to Ireland that were cheaper than they have been being and that would be able to have my best friend, John Clod, able to fly in from New Mexico for cheaper AND to be able to join up with us where we can all fly together. How cool was that?! I was also able to reserve us a SUV at the airport in Dublin for when we land, for the week that we will be there.

I called John Clod, told him what days to schedule for, and then set about my tasks for the day. I even ordered books on driving tours for Ireland and Scotland and contacted a travel agent for suggestions for the dates we will be there.

So...it is a start. We should be leaving just about the time the boys will be leaving to go back to Texas for the summer, so I won't have to be here for that (IF they go).

September is always a tough month for my mother and me, but I am fighting it.

The first was the anniversary of Ralph's (my step-father...that I loved so very, very, very much...even more than my own father in many ways) death. The sixth was my biological father's birthday, and the 15th would have been my parent's anniversary.

 I called to check on my mother and she was doing good. I was glad. I wish she lived closer to me, but maybe it just isn't meant to be.  Who knows? Seems like every time we get so close, something messes it up. Destiny? I just don't know. Everything happens for a reason, though.

Another good thing has happened. Pat got his boat. That means he will finally be able to go fishing in the places he has wanted to go for so long, and do it safer. He's wanted a bigger boat since about a year after we got together, probably longer. I'm not real keen into getting overly hot or sweaty, and with my fair skin, certainly not into getting too much sun, but I'll fish with him and may even get Desiree to go with us sometimes to go diving while he fishes. He has several guys that are just aching to go fishing with him though, and I think it will be good for him to get out with them and go, and now he has a safer boat to do it with. It is a pretty boat too. I think the grandsons will like it too.

We went to dinner tonight at a new restaurant, Couchon, and it was very enjoyable.

Yeah, it was a good day.

The Air Is Too Heavy On Katrina's First Anniversary

Pulled Down By The Undertow

Have you heard the screaming? You have? Well, sorry, but I just couldn't contain myself anymore.

 I am feeling overwhelmed and fried beyond compare again. I take spells like this where I don't know if it will ever pass or not, if I should go and see my doctor for a physical or if I should just break down and ask for some anti-depressants. I can't seem to get ahead of it anymore. I'm still clawing for solid ground while getting pulled down by the undertow.  And the worst part is...this has been going on for so very long now, with no end in sight. I'm tired. So very tired.

 I think this time the fatigue comes from the stress of my daughter's recent illness and hospitalization. The doctors, three of them, never could get their heads together for an agreement on the diagnosis, but two out of three of them decided it was meningitis. They all three decided that she had to at least be treated as such, but because of the uncertainty of the final diagnosis, it left her with an urgent desire to get out of the hospital and ready to get on with her life and running. It also left her rather curt with physicians that were only working in her best interest and trying to save her life. She couldn't see it that way and couldn't understand why she had to remain in the hospital when she finally got her fevers down from the 103s and 104s and when she was finally able to get rid of the migraines that came as a result.

The lumbar puncture (aka spinal tap) came back with a terrible infection in it but yet was "clean" and so they had to do tests for days before they let her out. When they finally did, it was on the condition that she continue to come to the hospital everyday for IV antibiotic therapy for 11 days. She was, shall we say, less than enthusiastic about this. It was mentally draining to have to work with her on this. It was also embarrassing to have to see the way she spoke to the doctors after she'd had no sleep for two nights. It wasn't that I didn't understand, and she did apologize to one of the doctors, but it will still be strange for me to see this physicians the first few times at the hospital when I return to work. It'll pass, true enough, but still...

And then, the hospital has screwed up her schedule, the payment system, and everything else, which just amplifies everything worse...so that adds to the stress of everything, making me worry that she won't continue with the treatment that will keep her alive.

 Add to this the test that I've got on Monday that could make or break this new job. It could also make or break providing safe care for a patient.

 Then there is the fact that I just don't feel good. I mean I just don't feel right. I am feeling lethargic almost all the time, even when I get enough sleep, which seldom happens, true enough, but still...I feel exhausted all the time. I can't get a good night's sleep in the bed, and our new bed is now not going to be delivered for another 5 weeks or so.

 I worry about money, Pat's health, my mother's health, getting the rest of this house finished...which I might as well give up on...heck...I will NEVER get even the door knobs on the closet or the doors put up that I've had for YEARS! Much less, the rest of the interior painted, so therefore, I can kiss off ever being able to clean out the craft room and being able to do my oil painting again. I might as well just get rid of the supplies for it and the easel.

 Okay, I've vented now. Well, I have to go and study. Not that I am retaining anything, but I have to go and give it the good old college try.

The Witching Hour

Okay, I am trying to get better at keeping up with my blogging since I noticed how terrible I've been the last couple of months, but I still make no promises on this, as I still have a very full plate, and it is likely going to be a few weeks before I get to do this again. The only reason I find myself having the time to do it right now is because I am sitting here sipping on my wine and having to unwind and waiting on yet another load of clothes to finish in the dryer so I can put the last load from the washer in the dryer. Does it ever end?

I convinced myself earlier today that I was going to finish all my Susie-Homemaker chores today and tomorrow so that I would have enough uninterrupted time to study properly on "day 3" because last week got so screwed up and I can't afford that to happen anymore.

Oh yeah, I really DO need to catch everyone up to date. I think I mentioned that I changed jobs. I did go ahead and end up taking the ICU job at my old hospital, well, this required my old and antiquated brain to go back to school, in effect, and I have classes every Monday and then work with my preceptor two other days a week. I am finding that my brain is not nearly oxygenated enough for me to be taking any sort of classes again, and the old text anxiety that I used to suffer from???? Well, I still have that! If anything, it is worse.

 It's been almost 4 weeks now, and I think I am going to enjoy it, or at least I was feeling pretty sure about it, until yesterday, and then there was a sudden shift in the management that could create an upheaval and present problems in the unit now, but I hope it doesn't. I'm hoping that I am enough of a little Indian this time and not so high on the totem pole anymore that I have to worry about all the politics, but I know that it always has a trickle effect.

One of the V.P. of the hospital made the decision to terminate the Dept. Manager that had been there for 22 years and the Patient Care Supervisor (who was up for the position of Nurse Manager and a winner of the Rosen Award), who had been there for 14 years. The V.P. said she felt that "new management was required at this time" and so she let both of them go. There were a lot of upset staff members and many of them were not happy about the PCS's loss, especially when they knew that she was willing to go back into staffing if it was felt that they wanted someone else in Management, but....a lot of times, it happens "out of sight, out of mind", so it may be the case this time as well, and I suspect that is what the Administration is banking on, but I foresee a great deal of changes coming down the river on this one.

 It leaves me feeling a tad uneasy in a way, as I knew the PCS fairly well, and was hired by the Dept. Manager, but then, I guess we all were, so maybe I won't be standing out in the crowd. I hope not, anyway. I want to blend in like beige, for a change. It would be nice just to show up, do my job and be able to go home at the end of the day, knowing I've done all I could do, and everyone was pleased with my work and that's a wrap.

 As for the house...most of the work on the exterior if finished and it looks pretty good. Especially if you like Mediterranean colors. I'm not sure that was the look I was going for on a Victorian house of 170+ years old, but that is the look I am going to live with for the next several years after what has been spent on it, that's for darn sure.

 Truth is, I really wanted a house painted a pale shade of pinks, like a house that is in the Garden District of New Orleans, on the corner of 7th and Prytania, but my husband was not having any part of a pink house. He felt that pinks was for old ladies. Heck, that's what I feel like!

So then I'd found a teal that was pretty close to what we had on the house to start with, and I've always liked teals and lavenders together, so thought that the lavender trim would be a nice touch, but we ran into two complications on that one. The first one was when Pat came in and said "There sure is going to be a lot of purple on the house, isn't there?" Well, that was all I needed to hear....if it looked purple to him, he would never like it and it didn't matter how light a shade of lavender it was or that it was just on the trim....it would be too much and look like something that should belong on a house belonging to Jack's character on "Will and Grace", so I had them change the trim color to go with the teal....a lighter shade. That probably turned out to be a blessing anyway, because the teal for the house color turned out to be a turquoise. W-A-Y off.... I felt like I was back in Santa Fe, New Mexico. What a nightmare! The paint had already been purchased, so I couldn't go back and just start all over and go with a green or something else, so what I did do was have him add a tint and darken it up. Thank goodness it helped. However, it came out with a very tropical oceanfront property looking Mediterranean look. One of our neighbors told me he loved it and how it looked like a house that should be sitting out over the ocean. I told him "one more hurricane, and it just might be!"

Actually, I've had every neighbor come over to me and tell me how great the house looks and how much they love the color. So I guess, that is a good deal, because if they were like me, they would just smile, wave and zip off without saying anything about it at all if they thought it was a travesty or mistake.

I laughed when Pat told me he thought we should change the color of the doors, though, from the butter yellow I'd picked out to go with the teal and I told him that those were the only original colors left and they still worked and I was keeping them...LOL. He just laughed and told me he didn't care, whatever I wanted was fine with him.

So, I guess when they finish replacing a couple of window sills, and touching up a couple of places, the exterior will be done. I noticed a patch job they did on one window sill that wasn't so hot, but other than that, the job has been outstanding.

And slowly but surely, the house is getting clean. Who knows, I might someday even be able to do my oil paintings again?! What a delight that would be!!!! I long to do that, but have vowed not to do it until the craft room is cleaned up enough to set my paints and easels up where I can leave my things set and walk away if I need to take a break. To do that, the rest of the house must be done.

 I'd thought the library would be finished by now, but just as I feared on it...it will probably NEVER get completed. I will probably never get my box locks and door knobs put on, or my shelves put up on the end of the closet, or my toilet put in as I'd planned, or my library ladder put up. I think I'd settle for the box locks, knobs and ladder at this point, but doubt if I'll have them done even in 2 years from now. I've been trying to get a door put up in my kitchen for almost 5 years....AND I HAVE THE DOOR!!! LOL. But I am learning. And I saw how to do a lot of things, so you just never know....I just might have that bad boy put up.

I've got the paint for the dining room and for the craft room and will get them painted, and have a chandelier for the dining room to be put up, but I don't know how to mount it, but I'll figure it out.

Yeah, it's coming along.

Well, it's that time now...the witching hour...

WOW! talk about a l-o-n-g time since updating!  Well, it's gonna be even longer....I have studying to do, cleaning to do, and tons of other things going on, but just wanted to let everyone know that I'm not dead.

 Seems like I have some relatives that are, however, that I just found out about. Would've sent flowers, card, memorials, etc, but didn't know about it in time, so......well....guess they find me out of the loop. Guess I AM out of the loop. Maybe that isn't so bad in a way.

 Any hoooo.....gotta run guys. Take care and I will try to update later.

 For those interested, yes, I do seem to like the new job, so far at least.

Vignoles Wine
Wow, it has really been a while since I put an entry into my blog. I bet some of you people thought I had fallen off the earth. I bet still others wished that I had. Sorry. I'm still here.

I had to take some time to myself and get a few things together.

Let's see, since my last entry, I've had a birthday, managed to survive it. We've had another election, and it seems that we have C. Ray Nagin for Mayor for another 4 years, in spite of my puny little vote otherwise. Well, New Orleans and the rest of the nation...I tried.

To tell you the truth, I was originally hurt by a few rash statements that were said by the Mayor back around...oh, I believe it was a certain February holiday that has three initials in it...but I was able to let it go...I really was. I came to the conclusion that it was either a man that needed to rally support from a direction that he felt he was lacking it for the past few years...or that he was, what was it that I heard so many times????"swept up in the moment?" Yeah, that was it. Whatever. The point was, I got past it. I moved on. I let it go. I even got past a few other comments that were made. The problem that I had was that I feared the nation and all the other voters in the USA would NOT be able to get past it, or their opinions of our beautiful city, and how narrow minded and backwards they might find we might be if we continued to keep the same leadership that we had.

I also had concerns that they might not feel too warm and fuzzy about giving over their hard earned dollars to a state other than their own, or to a city run by a man seen too many times as a "maverick" (his word, not mine) when they might be able to convince their Senators and Congressmen to keep their funds reserved for their own states instead, or to send it to other states' needs instead of ours. We look too much like a hot roman candle to be worth it.

But May 20th came and went, and apparently not enough of my fellow New Orleanians felt the same, as the elections came and went and the decision was made. Good, bad or indifferent, the ballot has been cast and now we must live with it...or at least until the final demise of our city.

Since my last entry, I also took a much needed break and went on a mini vacation with my husband and met with my oldest and dearest friend. We met in Branson, Missouri, a place none of us had ever been to before. It was a rather strange location for us to decide upon when you consider that none of us really like country western music, or those types of shows. We never even went to a show the entire 8 nights that we stayed there.

What we did do was ride our Harley Davidsons all over the Ozark mountains and look at some beautiful scenery. We took a tour through a cave, and found that the Ozarks are actually filled with caves, some that even served as speakeasy's during prohibition. I can only imagine getting really loaded and getting lost or falling in one of those caves back then!

We also rode down to Eureka Springs, Arkansas, which is known for it's bath houses and massages and spas, where we took them up on that.

Then there was the tour of the built to size Titanic, complete with artifacts from the beautiful White Star ship itself, and even an underwater model that was used for part of the filming of the movie.

We drove up to Springhill, Missouri in the truck one day to check out the Bass Pro Shop and I thought Pat and John Clod had gone to heaven. That store was several blocks in size. It was as big as a mall.

But my overall favorite, and I think if they admitted it, everyone's favorite, was the Stone Hill Winery, that we went to, and took the wine tasting tour. Okay...we went to it several times while we were there, and we are now VIP members, but hey, when you find something that good...you just gotta go with it! (And they ship to our state and to John Clod's state!!!)

While having a moment of clarity, I made some decisions job wise and I go on an interview this Friday. I will see what they say. It will mean a 14K/yr cut in pay, but I think it will be a better move for my mental health. I just need to see what they offer benefit wise.

And this house....oh yes, this house. I will be hiring someone to finish the outside of this house before it kills me. I will finish the inside of it, and then eventually be able to clean it, but it has become too hot to do the outside, and I have gotten estimates to do the outside. They will hopefully be able to get started on it in a couple of weeks.

I had hoped to be able to spend some time with my grandsons this summer, now that school is about to be out, and was sooooo happy to hear that their sperm donor wasn't going to be able to get them this summer, but was informed upon my return from being out of town, that he has now changed his mind and will be taking them after all. It seems that his parents were very upset with him for not wanting to get the boys this summer and read him the riot act, so now he has to get them after all. The oldest one, aged 7, doesn't want to go and it breaks my heart to tell him that he has to go. I hate our court system. Any court system that makes a child go with an abusive parent is just wrong. Still, I just try to tell myself...we will get through this, and I will go to visit them while they are there.

Sanity, what is thy name? Ah yes...Vignoles Wine...

I Need A Cookie
There comes a time when you know, like Hansel and Gretel, you should've left a trail of shiney white pebbles to find your way back. Or maybe have a magical cookie like Alice in Wonderland did, so I could get myself out of the hole later, but I fear I didn't.

Instead, I find myself in an abysmal digression that is taking me in a direction that it seems no matter how valiant a struggle I put up, I seem to be sliding into. Even though compared to so many others around us, we are still some of the luckiest ducks in the pond, but even with that knowledge, or even perhaps because of it, I find myself filled with an emotional contemplation that has me knotted with all the complexities and self pity.

I am tired, and I don't mean the "I just need to go lay down and take a little nap" tired, I mean, I am tired to the bone kind of tire. The kind of tired where you no longer derive any joy from anything, the kind of tired where you don't see where things are getting any better-but you know you just have to hang in there because you have too many people depending on you, the kind of tired where you are tired of people depending on you and you not being able to fix it all for them, the kind of tired where you would like to do something just for the sake of it's mindless entertainment but you know that even if you do it you will likely be too tired to be able to derive any pleasure from it.

I read about the husband that came home from work, to find his wife had shot and killed her two teen aged children in their beds, before turning the gun on herself, one of her children had been developmentally delayed. People wondered what had made her crack after the Hurricane, because they had moved into another perfectly normal house into a different town, and seemed to be doing so well. I felt so sorry for her husband. He has lost so much. How will he cope with all of this. How will so many cope with all their loses.

I know of so many that have had such a hard time managing and coping with the aftermath of this storm and the changes it has brought about. It becomes so overwhelming that I have to make my mind change the subject and focus my thoughts on something else.

I grasp for something, anything positive. I have to, but that is where I find myself running into complications of late. And I find an anger and a disappointment formulating not just from the situation but also from withing myself.

I tell myself that given the challenges of the storm, the life changing events that have taken place, that I am entitled to my feelings, and that I am within my rights to have feelings of melancholy about a life that, although it has never been perfect, (I doubt I would even recognize what that would be like short of reading about one in a book), I miss the concept that it was at one time within my grasp that the ideal of a perfect or at least a "normal" life was within a fingertip's distance to me. Now, I don't see that as happening anywhere for years and years in the future, if ever, and that is scaring me.

My days, no...my weeks are filled with the routine of getting up on Mondays through Fridays and working on a house that a contractor, Raul Valle (just so no one else will be ripped off by this same person) has taken too much of my insurance money to do the work on the exterior of my home repairs. He vanished, taking with him the money, and never bringing the supplies that he said he needed the money to order, or delivering the crews that he said he needed it for to secure them with. Although I am much wiser now, I am also much poorer, too poor to hire another contractor, and with a husband too ill from cancer, I find myself now taking the remainder of the insurance money and purchasing the equipment and supplies myself and doing the work myself on the exterior of the house. I am learning it as I go, but I am learning it. I am also learning just how big this house really is, and just how old my body really feels.

I wait until I feel my neighbors won't want to shoot me off the ladder in the mornings before I suit up in my environmental protective suit, complete with full face respirator and protective eye wear. And for anyone that isn't familiar with Louisiana, more specifically, southern Louisiana and New Orleans' heat and humidity...try wearing a respirator for 7-8 hours a day. Maaaaaannnnnnn! But since this house is over 170+ years old, I have no idea if there was ever any lead based paint used on it, and can't afford to take the chance. I also have 14' ceilings, and this is a raised house, so that means a LOT of ladder work, which I am getting better at.

We add on the additional hazard of a recent buck moth caterpillar epidemic that took over the oak tree in the backyard. Their stings can leave sores that take weeks or months to heal up, so that had to be sprayed this past weekend. It is hard to work on the back of the house when you are dodging them, and now they have started to crawl up the sides of the house.

That's how the mornings to say 3-4 in the afternoon goes. By then, it is just too warm to wear the respirator, and so it is time to come in and work on the interior of the house. You know...the house that is filled with sawdust, sheetrock dust, basically, every kind of dust that can cause every kind of respiratory illness in the world. Not to mention, there is certainly some lead paint flakes to be found somewhere, I certain!

The room that had a plaster wall blown down and a ceiling blown down was one that we'd talked about someday building a closet into, and perhaps converting into a bathroom, or a library, or something. Well, when the hurricane took out the wall and ceiling, it seemed like a good time to go ahead and put the closet in. And when deciding on doors, we opted to put in old 4 panel doors like were already throughout the house. A decision to stain those beautiful doors was made, as it would've been sinful to put paint on them, and with all that beautiful wood showing...why not strip all the old paint off the other doors and baseboard, windows, picture moulding and trim in the room? WHAT WAS I THINKING????!!! That turned out to be a nightmare!!!! I should have just painted the damn doors! Stripping 170+ years of paint off doors and all that other trim has turned out to be a colossal job. Of course, with all that moulding having all those curves, nothing was easy, and with there being so much in that room, and then there was just the overall sanding of the room it's self. Is it any wonder we've all been sick?

This is all just my Monday through Friday gig...then there is the real nightmare...the weekend job that I hate. The position that the corporation has found for me to do until they can get my hospital back up and running. IF, they get it back up and running.

And that leads me to another decision that I find myself having to decide upon. Will I still want to be a Director of Nursing? Will I really want to have to tackle the responsibility of having to worry about evacuating another hospital if and more likely...WHEN another hurricane comes to New Orleans? Then I would be obligated to not only evacuate again, but then, even worse...to have to STAY with them where ever we evacuate to. That would be a prison sentence. Other hospitals fly them off and then they go on and be with their families. They have done their jobs. Finished. Not this corporation. They have another hospital in another city, and would likely send them there, and then expect you to go with them and follow up on them there. I think that would be unrealistic for me.
So why am I staying where I am? In a job that I am hating? The pay? Yes, that is certainly good right now. The hours? Yes, that is certainly helpful right now with this house situation. Vacation? Yes, I was eligible for it March 31, and will be taking it May 11-21, so that whatever I decide after getting this house done, I won't have lost that. I'm thinking about a couple of options at this point, actually...

There is an ICU job coming up in June, but they require a 2 year contract, and I don't expect it pays quite what I am making now. The up sides for that are that it is 0.8 miles from my house and ICU nurses usually only have 2-3 patients. Down side...2 year contract, I hate contracts, ICU nurses are usually cats (but then, so are most females), it is at a hospital that I used to work at and there are some people there that didn't like it when I advanced over them before and once I left-they advanced up into those positions and they might now be in positions to be over me.

Another option I might could do would be Agency nursing. That has pros and cons too. The good side would be that it pays really well and you get to choose which hospitals you want to go to and which days you want to work and you get paid daily. The down side is that you float all over the place and you only get called in when they are really short so you already know that it is going to be crappy when you get called in. It isn't always good to get paid daily if you are not good at managing your money.

There are also my grandsons to consider. My daughter is constantly needing some help with them, and I need to be in a position where I can help her.

So, I have some decisions to make after vacation.

I feel like I am reaching into the cooking jar. My uncle told me once that if you reach in and try to take out too many cookies, you can't get your hand out and get anything out....just get one or two...then you can do it.

Another thing that has had me in a downer mood has been our local news and politics. Everything was so depressing right after the storm. Everything was flooded, people drowned and missing, homes burning. Then hope began to spring up. Help began to start arriving. People began to start working together. Neighbors began to start working together. National Guard had people feeling so safe and things were getting done.

Then promises were made and broken. Horrific and embarrassing statements were made. Shame was brought to a city that was striving to bring itself back to life like the phoenix. We had outsiders bringing help and equipment inspite of it, and we had some religious fools bringing bus loads of "local" that only added insult and injury to an already overburdened city. Still, we had hope.

More promises were made and broken. We began to lose faith. Or at least, I did.

Now I see all these people that are making political statements for their own reasons, and while this country was founded on the very rights of political and religious freedoms (along with the 2nd amendment, I might add), I see people working for their own agenda and not for the betterment for the city, and that saddens me, because I have always been very active in my voting habits since I was legally able to vote, and I find myself unsure in which direction to go this time, at least for Mayor.

I was so proud of Nagin for how he stayed in New Orleans and how he handled himself immediately after the storm. I honestly don't think anyone else could have done a better job with what they had given to them, but with what he did to New Orleans later has only harmed our future and made it impossible for us to be taken seriously with him at the helm, and for that, it saddens me, and it embarrasses me for ever having supported him. As for the other candidates, none of them have said anything yet that have been a concrete plan for how to help this city survive with what we have left and how we will make it compared to the rest of the United States. That is, of course, IF we have a decent levee system. I pray that the nationalized debate between the candidates shows me something to hope for, because I so desperately need some hope at this point. I need that cookie in the cookie jar to reach for.

April Already
Hard to believe it is April already, but it is. In just a few weeks, Jazz Fest will be beginning. I already have my tickets to two consecutive Fridays since I can't attend the weekends like I always have in the past (because of my current work schedule). Of course...the way things are going around here, I am going to be lucky to be able to be able to break free from here and be able to go on the Fridays.

I didn't think I would EVER get over the pneumonia. Man, it was rough! I am still coughing. I have, however, been able to sneak outside the past two days and get some sanding done on the house. I say sneak, because my husband would throw a fit if he knew that I was doing it, because he still thinks that I should hire someone else to do it. I can't seem to make him understand that the insurance money only goes so far, and that thanks to the crook Raul...it is now impossible for me to be able to hire someone to do the sanding and still have enough money left over to buy the necessary supplies to finish priming the house and caulking it and painting it, not to mention replacing the bad weather boards and wood around the windows.

So...I wait till he goes to work, then till the neighbors have had time to wake up, then it's out to the grind I go. I've been working on the rear of the house to get away with it, so he doesn't notice, and I should get hazard pay for it. We have been infested with Buck Moth caterpillars!!!! They are vicious! If they get you, they leave huge sores, and it isn't funsies. The oak tree in the back yard is about 50 feet tall and is absolutely covered up with them. So in addition to having to wear a full face respirator, eye and ear protection, something over my hair, now I am having to use my peripheral vision to watch for those creatures and do the "constant buck moth dance" to keep them off me. It has to be quite a sight. The up side of it all, is that I suspect I could lose up to 12 pounds this week as a result of this.

Another thing I have found in this process is that sanding creates upper body toning. You ever hold onto a sander for 8 hours non-stop? Well, I've done it for 2 days now. It's like riding a Harley hardtail on gravel! When I tell you my hands are still vibrating and my shoulders are aching, that doesn't even begin to describe it. I guess that could have an upside too, as we are planning to go on vacation during the second week of May, and we are planning to go motorcycle riding with my friend, John Clod, in Missouri. I should be in better shape.

Tomorrow I think I am going to take the day off, however. With my weekend work schedule. I have been getting screwed in the grandmother department. My grandsons are in school, and the only time I get to really see them is on school nights and that just isn't enough time before they have to go to sleep, or on the weekends, when I have to worry about getting enough sleep before I have to wake up at 04:20. So since my daughter wants me to babysit tonight while she goes on a date...I am going to just plan on the boys playing hookie from school tomorrow, and they can have a day with Grandmama. We may just go fishing, or do something else together...just us. I need some one on one time with my guys.