Thursday, January 31, 2008

Thor's Day

Thor is my special little guy. I have never had a cat who is such a ... cat. Jason says Thor is "cat, distilled".

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Not Always a Bitch

Karma that is. She gets a bad rap sometimes. But this morning, she was good to me. I awoke to find the giant puddle that has been on the street in front of my house evaporated, visible only by the residual mud. The plumber I called showed up on time, was very nice, did what ever plumbers do and found no evidence of a leak on my side. He offered to dig up the yard and look, but with the water puddle having evaporated overnight, I was comfortable watching it for a few more days. He thinks that there was a leak on their side but something someone did yesterday must of have fixed it. Then he didn't even want any money for coming out to look!

Maybe when I go to work tonight, I won't get out of breath walking down the hall. A girl can hope.

Two for Tuesday presents:
Clash of the Titans!

Note: there is cat nip on the newspaper. Thor gets a little stingy with the nip.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Stress Test?

How is this for a stress test?

Go to bank to resolve a "final notice and we're going to ruin your credit" issue with the company that manages my bank's loans. Problem: they say I've dropped the bank as lein holder on the car's insurance. Thought I had it solved by having my insurance company fax a copy of the policy. Get final notice. My bank, the wonderful place that they are, solved it for me with one phone call.

Get home to realize that front yard is a boggy mess with water collecting in the street. Call Charleston Water System. Have company that installed new meters show up, pump water out of the meter, tell me it isn't the meter and I have to recall CWS. Call CWS, explain it all again.

Have CWS truck show up just as I am leaving for my cardiology appointment.

Get to Mount Pleasant. Find doctor's office dark and locked. Call doctor's office. Have them tell me a lie about how they tried to call me this morning but my answering machine must not be working. Spend twenty minutes trying to get another appointment and trying to make the lady understand that I'm a new patient and I really don't' give a flying fig who I see, I just want to be seen before I go into V-fib and die one day.

Drive back home to find a horribly ungrammatical note on my front door from CWS saying that the leak is on MY side of the meter, so I have to fix it. (Funny, the sogginess is all on the street side.)

Get inside and find three messages, one at 2:30pm from someone at work saying the cardiologist's office had called there looking for me, the second at 2:40 from the cardiologist's office saying they were cancelling my 3:00 appointment (for which they had asked me to come in a half an hour early to fill out paperwork, which was why I was knocking on their locked door at 2:30 instead of answering phone calls at home). The third message was from me, testing my answering service to make sure BellSouth..... I mean A&TT....hadn't had some sort of technical problems.

Call the plumber I got a recommendation for and arrange for him to come out tomorrow to confirm the location of the water leak.

My heart is sort of going thump...swishity....thump, thump....swishity. That can't be good?

I'm going to go sit with Loki and have him lower my blood pressure.

Loki: Okay, but it's gonna cost ya!

Matters of the Heart

No, not my heart. We'll find out if anything is wrong with it later today.

I am practical enough and mature enough (in some ways!) to know that when my heart(emotion) and my head(reason) are in conflict, I should go with the head. It just usually turns out better.

And that was my conflict over voting this weekend. My heart was for Obama. My head was saying Clinton.

My heart listened to Obama and just soared and swelled with hope and excitement for the future.

My head coolly quantified the administration talents of Clinton.

So torn was I last week, that I feared I would be standing staring down at the voting screen still undecided.

But in the end, I could not vote in good conscious for Clinton because of her husband. Yes, because of Bill.

Hillary is running on the platform that she is the best qualified to lead this country. She says her being a woman has nothing to do with her qualifications. She is saying she is tough enough to endure the dirty politics of the campaign and tough enough to deal with the vast difficulties ahead for our country.

So why does she have her husband out doing her dirty work for her? Why is Bill out there bristling like a curr dog when someone says something about his woman?

If a male candidate's wife said half the things about an opponent that Bill has, she would be labeled a bitch and told to go back to attending luncheons and playing nice.

Hillary claims to be a feminist, but she is using her husband to be her attack dog. She is using sexism. She is not attempting to neutralize it or point out the blatant use of it by others, but she is keeping it alive.

That completely turned me off. It is dishonest. It is dishonest to decry a practice, but then use it when it is to your advantage. It is one of the things I despise about the Bush administration, they talk values and honor, but behave quite the opposite.

Thor sez: Hillary! Loki sez: Barack!

Sunday, January 27, 2008

My Friends Are Funny

Yesterday, we were heading out to vote when I got a phone call from a friend. She was at work and since we live in the same district, she wanted me to report voting conditions so she could plan to leave work and go vote. When you work 7am to 7pm, your place of employment has to allow you time to vote.

First funny thing she said was, "Everyone else here has already voted."

Snicker. It's lonely being blue in a red state.

Second funny thing she said was, "Call me back and tell me how long the lines are."

Double snicker. In our lily white, middle to upper income district? And the other districts combined at our polling site were even more lily white and more upper income?

I walked in, showed them my voting card, signed the paper, got a pass, got escorted to a machine, voted, waited for Jason, went home. Took me longer to type that.

By the way, it's Loki Sunday.

Loki sez: Diet food????

Friday, January 25, 2008

Karl Rove, Your Crops are In

I saw a clip on CNN's Headline News this morning - I know I'm not supposed to watching the news these days, Jason, kthnxbai - and a story shown there unfortunately did not shock me.

A young woman in jail awaiting sentencing for killing a man while driving drunk laughs as she gets a phone call from a friend telling her she should get a medal for killing a "tree-hugging ******* liberal bicyclist French gay guy".

Gosh. See what having our leaders and newscasters vilify those different from themselves leads too? People laughing and thinking it is a good thing that one of those people was murdered by a drunk.

You reap what you sow, baby, it's right there in Bushie's bible.

Thor sez: But I love my tree-hugging liberal brother!

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Wild Kingdom

This morning while talking to my mother on the phone, I was gazing out my kitchen window. In the back yard I saw: Mr. Cardinal, two Northern Flickers, a Bluebird perched above the bluebird house I put up last year, several Mourning Doves, at least half the platoon of Sparrows that live under my house and several Carolina Wrens.

Add a couple of squirrels and you've got a pretty good show.

My point?

I have none!

By the way, it's Thor's Day.

Thor sez: You may begin the worship now.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Deadly Lies and the Dastardly Liars Who Tell Them

What would you do if your child told you 935 lies?

What would you think of a person if human beings died as a result of 935 lies being told to you by that person?

Have you even told 935 lies in your entire life?

Nine hundred. Thirty five.

Lies told to you by the President of the United States of America and his closest advisers. A president who claims moral superiority because he is "born again". The president of the "American Values" party.

Sorry, but I got my butt smacked if I told a lie.

Truth was one of my family's American values.

Thor sez: Holy Pinocchio's nose, Batman! Even Nixon didn't lie that much!

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Time to Play..

My favorite game: what are we reading? I haven't done an expose of my unchecked biblioholism lately. Or my unseemly habit of reading four or five books at a time.

So, what are we reading?

Almost done with: Deep Survival by Laurence Gonzales. Very interesting look at the personality traits that favor survival in life threatening situations. Conclusion: I'm toast!

Thumbing through: Fodor's Budapest. Prague is getting too expensive, even for my fantasies of ex-pat status.

About half way through: Shopping for God, How Christianity Went from in Your Heart to in Your Face by James B. Twitchell. Fascinating! Must read!

Nibbling around the edges: The Far Traveler, Voyages of a Viking Woman by Nancy Marie Brown. Looks at the sagas and legends of Gudrid, sister-in-law of Eirik the Red and her travels. She may (I haven't finished yet) have been the first European woman to give birth in North America.

Fiction: American Gods by Neil Gaiman. Weird. Not saying I don't like it, it's just strange. It's my bed-time story book so unfortunately it is being read two pages at a time and I don't think I'm smart enough to maintain the storyline at that pace.

Loki sez: Perhaps you should read this one next.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Marching to My Own Little Beat

I have been, as some dear readers already know, having trouble the last month or so. Shortness of breath with ordinary activities. I know I'm old and fat and out of shape, but one should not have to rest after showering so that one may towel off without hyperventilating.

My dear doctor found my symptoms puzzling, not readily indicating one thing or another, but with my history of smoking (quit five years ago after smoking for...let's just say many years, shall we) and reactive airway disease (a cousin to asthma) added together with some vicious seasonal allergies, we decided on a new allergy medication to see what that would do.

And it made my allergy symptoms much better, but alas, did nothing for my breathing. So today I went back with my diary of symptoms that I've been keeping since the last appointment and my doc decided to start with a cardiology consult. But first, she did a baseline EKG there in her office.

Which showed I have a funny little short in my electrical system, a "pre-excitation of the ventricles". Of course, this is the first EKG I've ever had, so this might not be anything new or even the cause of my symptoms, but it is a place to start. So next week, I have to drive over the Ravenel Bridge (which is sure to upset my cardio-vascular system) to get wired up and do the treadmill thing.

Such fun. My doctor did say my funny beat was similar to WPW syndrome, which I immediately Googled once I got home - something I do not recommend that people do because the internet is a good way to scare the pants off yourself. But Marilyn Manson and MeatLoaf both have this syndrome. Lucky me, huh? MeatLoaf and Marilyn Manson.

Told you I was a freak.

Thor sez: Paradise by the dashboard lights!

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Loki Sunday

Get it? Low key Sunday? Ah, sometimes I just amaze myself with my razor sharp wit.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Hanging With the Kewl Kids

Last night we attended the first annual Chix with Stix Tournament. It is a charity pool tournament/education seminar to raise money for and awareness of ovarian cancer.

I spent much of the night discovering that many long-lost buddies were attending and playing.

I watched a familiar looking dude wander around with a video camera and I wondered where I knew him from until he stopped nearby to speak with one of the event coordinators and I heard his English accent. Then we had a weird round-about conversation where I introduced him to Jason's daughter and it turned out she had been photographed by his wife, Leigh, for Skirt!, which was one of the sponsors of the event.

Then I ran into a couple of my buddies from the writing group I used to attend regularly, got all the updates. Someone got hitched, someone gotta boyfriend! (Extra happy about that one!)

Then I got ever so politely asked by one of the most awesome women I've ever had the privilege to call friend to go back this morning and sit in on the seminar she was giving on "How to Communicate with Your Doctor". I think I managed not to embarrass myself.

It was a ton of fun and if you missed it this year, they are planning to make this an annual event.

Thor sez: Waaaaaaaahhhh! I wanted to go toooooooooo!

Friday, January 18, 2008

The Cult of Perfection

I did not know this young lady. As the article states, officials may never know what happened.

So it is with pure speculation that I take this opportunity to address what is still a huge problem in our culture.

The perfect mother.

The perfect mother is always overjoyed 100% of the time with her child(ren). A perfect mother needs no assistance with her baby. A perfect mother never makes a parenting mistake. A perfect mother keeps her house sparkling clean, cooks delicious and nutritious meals, keeps her husband sexually satisfied. A perfect mother loses her pregnancy weight within weeks of giving birth.

A perfect mother only breastfeeds and never, ever, ever gives her infant formula. A perfect mother's children are always clean, always dressed perfectly, always polite and always developmentally ahead of other children.

Or at least that is what many new mothers believe they are supposed to achieve. So they walk around pretending, a smile on their faces, pretending to their families and friends that they are okay.

We still equate post-partum depression with failure and being a "bad mother". So new mothers ignore their symptoms, are embarrassed to bring it up with their doctors, ashamed to admit it to friends and family.

We need to make post-partum depression as easy to talk about as smelly diapers or sore nipples. We need to be able to admit that we have bad days, that constantly caring for children is not always the glowing portrait of Madonna and child.

We need to be able to say that we are scared. Or frustrated. Or sad. Or feel like a bad parent. Or angry. Or mourning our child-free days.

We need it. Our babies need it.

Loki sez: I'm just going to sit in my basket and be sad for a little while.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Thor's Day

Sorry folks. Can you tell I'm at the tail end of my work week?

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Two for Tuesday

Today's theme:
No, we weren't trying to bust the screen out, honest!

Look into our sincerely innocent eyes!

Monday, January 14, 2008

Counting Coup

I would like to begin by saying that as I type these words, my one and only child is on a Navy vessel in the Persian Gulf. (Or near abouts he can't tell me exactly.)

That out of the way, I would like to know if anyone in the uppity-ups of the military, or even the news media, has ever heard of counting coup?

If not, perhaps they should look it up.

Five Iranian speedboats were not attacking the US Navy. They were counting coupe. And our media, falling right into their hands, played it up like the Iranians were boarding the Navy ships with nukes strapped on their backs.

There by making the incident appear more serious than it was, making it seem like a few little speedboats had scared the mighty United States.

We gave even more honor to their coup.

It would have been nice if we had a diplomatic relationship with Iran, so we could send our own ambassador (instead of Russia's who always has the United States best interest at heart, right?) directly to the Iranians to say, "Yeah, hey, that was funny and ain't your boys got a set of balls on them, but um, if it happens again, we're gonna just blow their boats up, okay?"

The men and women on those Navy ships are keenly aware of the Cole and what happened there. They will shoot to kill if necessary. And if Bush hadn't squandered all our good will in the world there would be minimal political impact if that happened.

Come on now, really, he is over in Palestine trying to get a peace treaty signed while two of his Middle Eastern wars are still raging and he is actively trying to begin a third? Does that make freaking sense to anyone? It's like trying to steal a kiss from a girl while your friends beat the shit out of her date right in front of her eyes. Then acting surprised when she isn't receptive to you.

But I'll tell you, I really don't want my child to have to kill someone, no matter how justified. I want him to do it if it means his life or the lives of those he serves with, don't get me wrong. But I don't want it to have to happen at all.

I don't want it to happen because Bush wants it to happen so he can start another war. I don't want it to happen so the oil companies can continue to rake in huge profits because the region is unstable. I don't want it to happen because Bill O'Liarly needs something to puff his chest up about and rage until his dick gets firm. I don't want it to happen so Keith Olberman can once again put Bill O'Liarly on his "worst person list". I don't want it to happen so the candidates for 2008 can have another debating point.

I want someone who knows how to talk to people. I want someone that the rest of the world will hopefully come to trust and respect. I want someone who understands people, who understands cultural differences that can make communication and understanding difficult and who will commit to attempting to bridge those differences, not cowboy up and pull out the six shooter because someone is different.

That's all.

Loki sez: Give peace a chance!
(My stupid spelling errors now edited. Sheesh. Spell check should have known what I meant!)

Sunday, January 13, 2008


Like the bloated, reeking corpse of the good ole boy system, JGA floats to the surface in today's Post & Courier.

"Reminded why

The Hillary Clinton of today reminds a lot of men of why they're really glad they didn't marry someone like her 30 years ago.

John Graham Altman

Folly Road"

What kind of woman would that be, when-Johnnie-comes-marching-home-again? Highly intelligent? Competent? Ambitious?

No matter what you may think of her politics, she is an accomplished human being. See, Johnny, let me let you in on a secret - many men, real men who are completely sure of themselves, actually like smart, accomplished, successful and ambitious women.

Can I find the words to express how glad I am that I didn't marry someone like him?

Thor sez: That smells worse than my litter box!

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Friday, January 11, 2008

Label Tampering

I'm tampering with my labels today. There are many of them, scattered around, haphazardly slapped in place by myself and others. Some are so old it is hard to read what they say. Some are stuck in place like glue and may rip off chunks of skin if I try to pry them loose. Some contradict others as I have accumulated them over the years, growing and learning and changing as we all hopefully do.

Today I've been picking around the edges of my feminist label, testing the strength of its glue. Seeing if, like a scab, I can get it off without too much bloodshed.

It isn't that I don't want to be a feminist. I do. I think that the world is still far too dangerous a place for us (here in America especially) to stop speaking out on issues that, at first blush, seem to impact only women. But in reality, the denigration and oppression of women (mostly in third world countries, but make no mistake - the levels of domestic violence and the murder rate of women in America by husbands and lovers qualifies as denigration and oppression in my opinion) harms us all. We are not isolated anymore, what happens to a poor woman with no means in the dusty streets of some small town in the Middle East can impact us. When she gives her son up to be used by the terrorists because she has no other options to support and protect herself and her children, it impacts us.

I've been having a bit of trouble with the idea that as a feminist, I should vote for Hillary Clinton because she is a woman. I like Hillary. I've spent the past few months in a heated debate with myself over who I will vote for. It's a rather novel experience to realize that of all the candidates running - on both sides- there are only a couple I would not be, at the least, satisfied with.

But I can't bring myself to vote for a person based only on gender. No more than I could vote for someone only on skin color. No more than I could vote for someone based on his/her stand on a single issue.

And I understand the position some feminists are taking, that we must support Hillary as a pioneer of sorts. That once this barrier is broken, it will be easier for women to move into positions of leadership in America and abroad. I agree, it will.

I like Hillary. I may vote for her in the primary. I may not. If she is the Democratic nominee, I will vote for her.

She just isn't my favorite right now.

So I'm thinking perhaps I'm not a feminist. Perhaps I should change that label to humanist.

Thor sez: Fine. Just don't take my Skirt! away.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Make Sense!

Yesterday, while out running errands, I mused aloud, "I wonder what would happen if I put enlarged photographs of nude women on poster board and stood at the intersection of Hwy. 61 and Sam Rittenberg, showing the pictures to passing vehicles."

Jason said, "You would be arrested."

Probably. But it begs the question, why are people allowed to display doctored images of dead fetuses? Images doctored to be especially gruesome and bloody?

No matter what your stand on abortion, allowing children to see these bloody images is not good for them.

And, please, hold the "abortion isn't good for those dead babies either" come back. I know that. But I ALSO care about the children who are here, alive now. Unlike many anti-freedom of choicers who don't give a hoot about the babies once they are born - let them live in poverty and abuse and horror that you can't imagine until the baby pops up dead on your local news channel and you click your tongue and shake your head and write comments on the on-line paper about how "some people shouldn't breed."

What is it about American culture that we will allow our children to see people shot and stabbed and mutilated in graphic bloody detail in movies and on television, but OH MY GOD, my ten year old saw a BREAST!! Call the networks!

Jason shook his head and said, "See, you just want these things to make sense."

Yes, I do. I don't think that is asking too much.

Loki sez: Leave me out of this one!

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

I Know I Should Be Ironing Shirts or Something...

but could some-one please -pretty please with sugar on top - tell that impossibly phony plastic political parody of rich white man in charge Mitt Romney to stop referring to his rankings in the primary/caucus races as "silvers" or "golds"?

They are not trophies to prop up your ego and money making machine, Mitt, they are the votes that represent real American citizens who have decided to place their trust in you. It is demeaning to your supporters to relegate them to the status of a thing.

And while you are at it, Mr. Perfect Plasti-man, can some-one teach you how to answer a question? I mean, like use the words "yes" or "no"? I've not heard you give an answer to one single question put to you, you merely twist the meaning around (many times breathtakingly so) so that you can give your preplanned Plasti-man speech. You don't even seem to notice or care that the words that come out of your mouth have nothing to do with the question you were asked.

Don't you get it yet? That is precisely what voters are voting against this go round. Toss out the hair dye and the giant economy sized bucket of hair gel. Prick your puffed up ego with a pin and get real.

For Pete's Sake.

Loki sez: Yes, Mr. Romney, saying that every child deserves a mother and a father sure tugs at the heart strings, because, dang it, who doesn't think two loving parents are in a child's best interest. But just how will you accomplish this as president? And will accomplishing the establishment of two parent homes in America take precedence over ending the Iraq War, stopping the hemorrhage of American jobs to other countries, the middle class disintegrating before our very eyes, repealing tax cuts for the wealthy and giving them to the middle class or fixing our very broken education system?

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

As Sand Through the Hourglass

these are the days of our lives. I can still hear the melodramatic reading of something similar to those lines from whatever few huddled neurons in my brain store childhood home-sick-from-school memories.

But our days do slip by, seemingly more quickly each passing year.

And then you get the phone call and suddenly you are pushed into a new generational category.

I've graduated from Aunt to Great Aunt. My brother is a grandfather (and the father of a 5 year old and a 1 year old, just to mess with the family genealogy). My mother is a great-grandmother. I suppose Auntie Anonymous can claim Great-Great Aunt status? The Yankee genes in me hinder the genealogical plotting skills that pure bred Southerners seem to do so easily.

But it was a girl. Eight pounds, twelve ounces. Pictures when available.

Thor sez: Betcha I'm still cuter!

Monday, January 07, 2008

Since I've Been Loving You

Not the Led Zeppelin song, but The Novel. That is the title I've finally decided on for the project formerly known as either Meg or Garden of Weeds.

One day I was cruising down the road, stereo volume hovering around 16, as is required for Led Zep listening when it just hit me.

"Since I've been loving you, I'm about to lose my worried mind.
Everyone tried to tell me that you meant me no good."

And now in her third year of shuffling from door to door, nose pressed a la Stella Dallas against agents' windows, peering into the world of warmth and love reserved for the few chosen ones, but never knowing such herself, poor little Meg has dusted herself off and is once again in search of her place in world.

Thor sez: Does this mean you'll be cussing at the printer again?

Sunday, January 06, 2008

Sunday Afternoon

"Honey, I need to blog today."


"But I need something to blog about."


"Napoleon? The cat? The dessert? The Emperor?"


"But I don't know anything about the Emperor."

"He invaded Russia in 1812."

"Yeah, and that was a big success."

I once saw my cat Napoleon jump at least four feet and snatch an escaping bird right out of the air. My mom had said he had the same color as a Russian blue, which is why I named him Napoleon, which just proves my point that I don't know anything about the Emperor Napoleon.

Napoleon snoozing, circa 1979. (for some scale, that hot 70's orange pillow was 18x18)
I know, I'm boring.

Saturday, January 05, 2008

Begin the Resolutions!

Resolutions begun:

Make the room-formerly-known-as-Danny's/junk room habitable. (Jason carried the boxes to the attic, we've swept, extensively vacuumed the rug stored in there, moved furniture. It is now fit for a human to inhabit.)

Vitamins and supplements. Daily, not whenever you think about it.

Start transitioning bill paying to on-line paying. The 21st century: deal with it.

Exercise. It's a good thing.

And my most ambitious goal: Put 10% of my paycheck (gross, not net) into savings every single pay day. And as I can do that on-line as well, I really have no excuse other than not wanting to do the little bit of belt tightening required.

Loki sez: My resolution: more naps!

Friday, January 04, 2008

I'm So Excited!

My fella, Barack, won in Ohio!

And in other breaking news:

I could put on socks this morning!
(That will make sense to other back problem sufferers)

I've been trying to stay away from the news channels and even the network news election coverage. It annoys me too much. A huge part of the nasty and vile tone that come to be accepted as normal politics by the public is the media's fault. They don't ask questions to seek information. They ask questions to have a "gotcha" moment or a nasty sound bite to run over and over and over. They are deliberately obtuse when it suits their needs and over full of righteous indignation when it also suits their needs.

Television coverage has nothing to do with reporting the news or even the facts anymore. It has become entertainment. And that is fine, I just think they should be required to acknowledge the fact (if they can recognize one) that they are not journalists, but network shills spouting a certain veiwpoint that they think will bring in the ratings.

Bill O'Reilly is the first and the worst. But others have begun to believe their own press clippings and you can watch the rhetoric expanding alongside the egos. Lou Dobbs and Keith Olberman come to mind. I used to enjoy them, they used to be somewhat honest in their presentations of their "shows". Now they have gone around the bend and are just as slanted and biased as the show-men they decry.

So I just read my news online so I can check the story from several different angles. I read the candidates on-line sites to hear what they are saying without the right/left bias their message is filtered through by the networks.
I listen to them give speeches unedited and commentator-free.

And I think that Barack Obama's message of change was supported by the people of Ohio says something. I think it says that I am not alone out here in my little corner of the world. I think it says that the American people can see right through all the little sound bites and twisting of points. I think it says that we just want the pundits to STFU and report what the candidate said, not what they -the pundit or the pundit's boss - says it means.

I'm not a starry eyed college age kid participating in my first election. I know that Obama probably won't be able to accomplish everything that he says he'd like to do to change the insider power structure of Washington DC. But he is the only one who has been saying it needs change all along. Oh, the others jumped on board when they saw it was striking a chord with the public, but it is Obama's message.

As for me, I've got hope.

Thor sez: I've gotta new toy!

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Dazed and Confused

Not the Led Zep song, although I was listening to that on my way to gas up the Cruiser. It seemed appropriate for the pump shock.

And I wouldn't have been driving at all except for a critical shortage of cat food (human food also, but it is more dangerous to be out of cat food).

Sometime Monday, I aggravated an old back injury -assisting with a stretcher to bed transfer of an obese patient (before I worked in the nursery, of course) and the patient "thought it would be funny" to let go of the overhead bar and leave me hanging on to almost 300 pounds on a sheet.

Can you say torn muscle? I thought you could.

It flares up from time to time just to remind me I'm not 20 anymore. That a couple of ibuprofen and a little ice is no longer a sure fire cure for what ails me.

I soldiered on as best I could, but by Wednesday morning, the pain was so bad I had to hit the muscle relaxer stash. Drugs, ice, heat, rest. Twenty four hours later and I can actually sit in a chair for more than five minutes. Still not doing too well on the standing in place yet, but I can walk.

Not an auspicious start to the new year.

Loki sez: This is my mom on Flexoril.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Happy New Year!

Last night, I arrived at work to discover a wonderful new contest - H&R Block is giving away a goodie basket for the last baby born in 2007. How neat is that! There were also bibs for babies born on 12/31 that said "I'm a new tax deduction".

I thought it was cool.

I haven't heard (possible because I just woke up ten minutes ago) where the first baby was born in the county. We had one in the first hour, but it is hard to beat MUSC.

There are fixings for hoppin' john, ham and collards in the kitchen, so we will have an abbreviated traditional New Year's Day supper. Abbreviated because sleep and a requirement to return to work at 7pm tend to put a squeeze on time.

Vulcan Loki performs the mind meld: Ham. You will feed it to us. Now!