Recorded

I did this collage for my sister's blog page. Random pictures of the family from random years. As I look back at these pictures it reinforces the thought that it's all about random. Who knew when each of the pictures were shot where we would be one year from that date, or 10 years or even 20 yrs.

Did we have plans that went astray, sidetracked by events we didn't expect and move down a different path?

When I was 16 I had no idea I would be living where I am right now. Hell, when I was 30 I had no idea I would be living where I am right now. It's all about about randomness. Sometimes I feel as though I have tumbled along without rhyme or reason. I thought I had a plan but maybe I didn't or maybe it didn't matter if I had a plan or not.

I'm always amazed that some people manage to be born, live and die in the same place. I also wonder how they coped with that. I can't imagine never having lived in places I've lived across the USA and the sites I've seen. Would I have been just as content to never have been to those places. Would I have dwelled on things I thought I had missed? I have no desire to pack up everything and move. I'm not saying I don't still have the wanderlust; it's a part of me although it was easier back in the day when everything we owned would fit in a travel trailer and be towed with a truck. It was easy to pack up and move to a new location. Those days are gone and sometimes I feel as though possessions are just something to weigh a person down. Spontaneity was left aside when the furniture and the lawnmower arrived. Furnishings mean a home and a lawnmower means a lawn of your very own. Sounds like settling down to me.

For thirty years we pay for a house, retire and then sell the home and live our remaining days on the proceeds. During all those years of home ownership we cope with the improvements and maintenance of that house and yard. The American dream is home ownership? When I hear that I always wonder at the limits of our dreams.

It appears I'm in a mood tonight. I have itchy feet. It feels like it's time to wander about for a while. I need to take a trip somewhere. I'm not real particular about where just that I break out of the routine. Routine has never been one of my favorite words.

Need to Know Basis

Out of the mouth of babes, sometimes Carrie's conversations cause us laughter, astound us or suprise us. This was a day for one of those conversations.

I've kept Carrie's potty chair in the bathroom even though she can get up on the toilet without any help. Sometimes we are in the bathroom together; she on her potty and me on the toilet. It's a girl trip we do together and she enjoys this bit of bonding.

This evening she went to the toilet and used her potty chair. A little later she followed me to the bathroom while I used the toilet. She helped me to the bathroom; she led me by holding my hand. She wants to help me because she realizes I have some difficulty walking.

We got in position; me on the stool and her standing directly in front of me. She engages me in conversation. I'm a captured audience.

She says "boys have this thing", she says this while grabbing her crotch. I keep silent wondering what is coming next. The best thing to do is not repond till we see where this conversation is headed.

She says "they stand up and they have this long thing they put over the toilet and pee" "I don't know what it is, do you?"
I told her it was called a penis and only boys have them. She states again " um..yeah..and they don't have to sit down but Nana, it's called their privates".
"Ah" , I said, "and who calls it that". She says "my daddy".
She was done sharing on this subject. We finished our bathroom visit and left the room. We will continue our sex education conversation as her questions require answers. I'm hoping she waits untill she is at least 4yrs old! Sometimes she makes me nervous. I never know where are little talks are leading. I just follow silently for as long as possible.

Just when you thnk....

sometimes you realize you just haven't seen it all. It's at times like these that I realize there will always be surprises in store for me. Always something new and to be in awe of and this is one of those times.

I had to actually google these Penis peppers. Yep, that is what they are tagged and even for sale on ebay. When I looked them up on the web it said they were from a couple of states and one of them was Louisiana. I have to say, I've visited the Tabasco Mfg. place here and didn't see a pepper one that was pornagraphic in nature. I'm wondering when peppers became x rated. I can see growing them in the garden beneath a blanket hidden from the sight of youngsters. Should they be grown in a seperate section of the garden away from the baby peas and the fresh corn? Will the gardens have to be rated as the movies and music albums are rated?

Are there other x rated veggies out there? I'll be paying close attention to harvest time now.

It's Not My Turn, It's His This Time

Up bright and early, showered and dressed, we were out of the house and on our way to the Imaging Center to get tests done. Afterward, to the lab to have blood drawn. These tests had to be rescheduled to today because hubby had to leave town on the original scheduled dates. At least it's done and he is expecting to leave town any day now so we are grateful that we could get these tests rescheduled so quickly and completed.


I have a two-step ladder in the living room parked in front of the tv. I position myself on it standing only on the ball of my foot with the heel unsupported by the step. I lower and raise myself up and down on my foot to stretch the muscles. It's painful as it stretches. Rehab is never fun. I'm hoping this corrects my problem and I won't have to get a steroid injection. Can you hear me whimper? I do that when someone hints that I might have to have any sort of injection. A needle pointed in my direction will cause me to hyperventilate.

I remember the first time I applied to a hospital after graduating from nursing school. I had to go to the hospital lab for blood work for preemployment. I whimpered, cringed and pulled away when the phlebotomist leaned toward me with the needle. She knew it was a preemployment requirement from the orders she had received but she didn't know where I would be working. She didn't know I was a nurse albeit a new grad nurse.
When she asked where I would be working, I answered with one word "housekeeping". I was too embarrassed to tell her I was an RN.
Now, don't think you have misread this. I said I didn't like getting an injection; I don't mind GIVING them at all! I figured out a longer time ago it was better to give then receive. I do have a lot of empathy for my patients because of this. I'll continue my rehab exercises and hope to avoid the needle!