Month: February 2016

From God’s Lips to Daddy’s Ear

lbeth1950's avatarNutsrok

Daddy was “the Boss.” God put him in charge, so we didn’t have to worry about what God wanted.  If we had any questions, we could go straight to Daddy.  He always had a Bible verse at the ready to back him up, if needed.  Most of them sounded suspiciously fresh-coined and self-serving, lacking book, chapter, and verse.

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I Wish They’d Had ADD When I Was a Kid (Part III)

I Wish They’d Had ADD When I Was a Kid (Part II)

I Wish They’d Had ADD When I Was a Kid (Part I)

Terror in the Night

Reblogging an old post

lbeth1950's avatarNutsrok

man and womanMother awoke to the chilling realization that someone was trying to break in the house. “Bill! Bill! Wake up Bill! Someone’s trying to get in!!”   Daddy didn’t normally sleep: he went into a coma, but adrenaline jolted him into action. He grabbed his loaded shotgun and crept to the window.  In the darkness, a tiny light glowed in the darkness of the front porch.  It wasn’t just Mother’s imagination!  Someone was trying to get in!

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Don’t Spin Your Greens, Granny (Part 2 of Multi-Function Appliances)

greens 2https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/2016/02/04/high-efficiency-multi-funtion-appliances/

When you live in the South and visit old folks in the country, the first thing you have to do is admire their garden. You’re liable to come home with a “mess of greens.” For the unenlightened, greens include turnips, collards, or mustard greens. Boiled down low, with a bit of pork, and garnished with a splash of “pepper sauce,” greens make a delicious meal. A true connoisseur polishes off by sopping up the juice, or pot-liquor with cornbread. If you’re above the Mason-Dixon Line, try a roll.

That’s the happy ending. Now, we get down to the nitty gritty, literally. Greens have to be “looked and washed.” The first step is dispossessing the wildlife who habituate greens. Nobody wants to find half a worm or a cluster of bug eggs in their pot-liquor. You have to give both sides of each rumpled leaf a good look, wash, and then wash and rinse copiously.

I’d heard the glorious news that greens could be washed in the washing machine, cutting down tremendously on prep time. The next time Bud came in wagging a bag no of greens, I didn’t moan like normal, having recently heard the good news that greens could be washed in the washing machine. As usual, the basic information registered, not the total technique. I loaded the washer with dirty greens and detergent and hit the start button. Quite a while later, the alarm sounded, and I went to retrieve my sparkling greens. Alas, no greens remained, just a few tough stems and a few bits of leaves. A follow-up conversation with my friend revealed that I should have only washed them on gentle and not continue to spend.

Though I hoped he’d forget, Bud came in that night expecting greens. I feigned innocence. “What greens?”

It didn’t fly. “The greens I brought in yesterday.”

It’s hard to come up with an excuse how precious greens went missing. I gave up and told the truth, though I don’t like worrying Bud stuff with gets his blood pressure up. I’m considerate that way. “They went down the drain.”

“How in the Hell did they go down the drain?” I don’t know why he gets all up in my housekeeping and cooking business.

“They just did. Now don’t keep asking nosy questions!”

“Exactly what drain and how did that happen?”

“The washing machine drain.” I hoped if I answered matter-of-factly, he’d move on. I didn’t work.

“You put greens in the washing machine? What in the Hell were you thinking?” I hate it when he apes back what I’ve just said. I’ve told him it gets on my nerves.

“It takes forever to look and wash greens. Jenny told me she puts hers in the washer and it works great. I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to put them through spin.”

“Grouch, grouch, grouch @^%&( , #@$%! Don’t ever put )(^%&# greens in the washer, again.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t go on forever about it. I get tired of your nagging”

Since then I’ve been careful not to spin them. It works great.

High Efficiency, Multi-Funtion Appliances

imageI probably won’t have a lot of time for WordPress once I post this. Design and idea people will be beating a path to my door by tomorrow morning, or maybe even later today, once California gets this. Appliances should be multi-functional. I’ve already done my own research and can tell you some pitfalls, but the idea is great.

Ovens make excellent emergency dryers, but don’t do your hair.  Putting your head in the oven makes a bad impression. Properly done, ovens could be used for clothes, shoes, and other stuff you might not want, or be able to put in your clothes dryer. Also, the dryer might be on the blink. (Possibly from Multi-Function Appliance research) I do have a couple of cautions, however.  When drying your dainties in the oven, pre-heat it to a nice warm temp, then turn it off. Be sure to put them on a nice cool cookie sheet before you slide them in. When mine hit the hot oven rack they sizzled and melted.  Long crosswise burns across the butt was not a look I could live with.

I ran into a little problem drying my son’s tennis shoes in the oven before I’d worked all the kinks out of my system.  His only pair had to be dry for school the next morning, so in the oven they went.  It’s a lot easier to set the temperature higher than you think, believe me.  In just a bit, I smelled rubber burning.  By the time I got to them, melted shoe soles dripped to the oven floor.  Still thinking they could be salvaged, I worked the shoes free, hoping I could saw the drippy soles off smooth.  Didn’t work.  The toes curled up till the shoes looked like skis.  We ended up making a flying trip to the store with him in his socked feet, getting there just before the store closed at nine.

Bud was totally unreasonable about the whole situation.

to be continued

 

 

How to Catch a Cat Meme…

From Chris the Storyreading Ape.

Chris The Story Reading Ape's avatarChris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

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Lessons From Michael

A few months into my first nursing job, I met Michael, the patient who put me on the road to true nursing. Still limping down the painful road from enjoying success in nursing school to putting it into practice, I drove home most days thinking, “I can’t go back tomorrow. I can’t go back tomorrow.” I lived in terror of getting caught alone with a patient whose survival depended on all that “nursing magic” that had so far eluded me.  Orienting on an acute dialysis unit, my only useful skills were a pretty good nursing vocabulary, understanding of aseptic technique, and the complete understanding that there was no question too stupid for me to ask. I would have never have made it if my supervisor had been one of those who “ate her young.” (terrorized new nurses)

I was assigned to care for Michael. Though I didn’t voice it, I thought Michael’s family ought to think twice before subjecting him to dialysis. He was thirty-six years old with Down’s Syndrome and its many cardiac complications, diabetic, had hepatitis B, and now needed dialysis. I worried about how he would deal with it at his three-year-old functional level.  Selfishly, I dreaded caring for him, thinking he would challenge my meager nursing skills.

I could have saved my worry. Michael stole every heart in the dialysis unit. He was smiling when his mother brought him in, did everything he was asked, dealt with his pain, and was the kindest patient I ever had the privilege of caring for. I loved him dearly, and treasured every moment I got to spend with him over the short three years I had the gift of being his nurse. Thanks to Michael, I learned compassion and humility. Every soul has value and something to share.