I’ve thought long and hard about this entry and have gone from “yes, post it,” to “no, it won’t make any difference anyway” numerous times. So in an effort to clear some of the air here I decided to do this. Also, last time I checked, this was the United States, a place where you’re supposed to be innocent until proven guilty.
Apparently, according to a lot of you, I made a great mistake when I befriended Art and contributed to the Rescue Zipper fund. When I sent the money I had no intention of getting it back. I sent it out of good will and because I was concerned about Zipper and what his fate would be. I also thought that getting Zipper back would help Art’s emotional state. And I also thought that Rosie was a wonderful person going to all the effort that she did – giving of her time and energy to help Art out not only in rescuing Zipper but in taking him into her home and helping him to come out of his shell so to speak.
I had no idea what was going on behind the scenes at Rosie’s house, although Rosie made some vague statements that things were not all okay. Then Art started blogging about “issues” and the next thing I read is that Art had been asked to leave. When he opened up a new locked blog he left a very negative rant about Rosie. I guess that was to be expected considering the circumstances and Art’s state of mind. I must say that Rosie continued to be a lady and just kind of skimmed over it in her diary, only stating that things weren’t right and that Art was gone. One of the negative comments that Art had left in his blog was a reference as to how Rosie had spent the money collected for the Rescue Zipper fund. I was so taken aback by the reference that I questioned Art in the comments of his LOCKED diary and asked for clarification, which I never got from him. When Art initially sent the email out to his friends announcing that he was opening a new blog, all the addresses were on the top of the email. Obviously someone who was on that list was also good friends with Rosie and felt it their duty to either give Rosie the password, or pass the information on to her, I don’t know which. But it didn’t take long and I received a defensive email from Rosie regarding the question I left about how she spent the money. I also wrote in my diary (http://thelifetimesofolelena.blogspot.com/2008/07/theres-mole-in-our-midst.html ) referencing the fact that I felt someone was overstepping their bounds by sharing information that was supposed to be private and that I found that very distressing. It really wasn’t hard to figure out who it was that gave Rosie the information. I thought I made it plain in that entry that I wasn’t upset about however Rosie had spent the money. That was water under the bridge and couldn’t be changed now. What I was upset about was that someone had so little respect for another blogger who had trusted them with their password, to pass on private information.
NEVER ANYWHERE IN MY WRITING DID I MENTION POOLAGIRL’S NAME AS THE OBJECT OF MY SUSPICION. In fact she even called me after I had posted that entry and asked me point blank if I thought it was her, and I said NO!! We got that cleared up and followed with a nice chat. I enjoyed our visit and told her that I was sorry that I wouldn’t be in Tombstone to meet her in person. I assumed we had the issue cleared up at that point. But I guess not.
She followed with a post that her heart had been broken: (http://poolagirl.diaryland.com/grandheart.html) and everyone jumped on the bandwagon to support her, which I think is wonderful with the exception that it seemed to be at my expense.
Reading comments like the following and knowing they were aimed at me got a little old and hurtful. You’re all up in arms about someone hurting Poolie, but yet it’s okay for you to put out bullshit, make no nevermind about how it makes your target feel. But I guess it shows true colors, doesn’t it. The following comments were posted after I decided to close my blog.
“The good thing is that after all is said and sifted, the people who are real will still be there, and the dead weight will have dropped away.”
And from a different blogger:
“And you are right about the dead weight! It seems to be dropping away as we speak. People that live in their perfect little world and wear blinders, alluding to innocence (HAH!) have no fooking clue!”
One last thing: I DID NOT ACCUSE POOLIE. I DID NOT MENTION HER NAME ANYWHERE IN MY DIARY IN REFERENCE TO THIS ACT OF GIVING AWAY PRIVATE INFORMATION.
I have tried to make this entry as accurate as I can. If any of you who have been part of this fiasco feel it’s inaccurate in anyway, please feel free to leave that information here.
One of the statements that keeps recurring in people’s blogs and in comments is that you should be able to write whatever you want – it’s your diary. That’s my right and I’m going to express it now:
To you who have participated in this mess - Go to hell, all of you.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Adios
I've had enough.
I've had enough of all the "oh, poor me" syndrome and everyone feeling sorry for those who write about the "oh poor me" syndrome.
I'm done.
I've received the LAST of the emails sputtering excuses, etc., and the last of the emails written in self-defense when trust has been breeched and entries have been exaggerated to protect one's self.
It's time for everyone to take personal responsibility and be truthful. Lies only hurt not only themselves but also those surrounding.
Good bye Cyberworld. I'm signing off. I don't need this.
I've had enough of all the "oh, poor me" syndrome and everyone feeling sorry for those who write about the "oh poor me" syndrome.
I'm done.
I've received the LAST of the emails sputtering excuses, etc., and the last of the emails written in self-defense when trust has been breeched and entries have been exaggerated to protect one's self.
It's time for everyone to take personal responsibility and be truthful. Lies only hurt not only themselves but also those surrounding.
Good bye Cyberworld. I'm signing off. I don't need this.
There's a Mole in our Midst
After much discussion with Ole, I’ve decided I won’t be attending the Great Javalina Hunt in October. The major reason is because of Ole’s health and the strong possibility that he may be having surgery on his leg in October. But there is one other reason for my not attending, and I might as well just put it out there for ya’ll to know because I'm VERY disappointed.
Remember, I’m a Minnesota girl – born and bred – grew up a conservative Norwegian Lutheran – and I admit that I’m naïve and a very trusting soul when it comes to people. I take folks at face value and expect them to be what they say they are. In turn – what you see – er – read is what you get. That’s me. No fluff, no pomp and circumstances, just me. That’s the way Ole is too, and I think we’ve raised Lovely Daughter to be the same way. There’s a term up here called “Minnesota Nice,” which means there’s some morals and ethics involved somewhere.
There is a foul wind that has blown up among some of those planning to attend the Javalina Hunt. It’s gotten rather ugly on both sides, and now has widened out to include several others. I’ve become very disillusioned with some of the Javalina Hunters, and all the backbiting and posturing that is taking place, not to mention trust issues – like sharing passwords to locked diaries, or passing on information that was entrusted to you by giving you the password to a private diary. You know who you are. I won’t mention names, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Just the fact that I left a comment in Blogger #1's private diary, and immediately received a rather caustic and defensive email from Blogger #2 regarding that comment because I know that Blogger #2 didn’t have the password. The comment I left was certainly not negative about anyone; I was just asking a question. And I certainly feel that I should be able to make a comment in a LOCKED diary without fear of repercussions from an outsider – one who isn’t supposed to be there in the first place!! I guess I was very wrong when I thought I could trust mutual bloggers. There’s a mole in the midst.
Just to make things perfectly clear, I'm not now, nor have I in the past, taken sides with either Blogger #1 or #2. They each have their own opinion. Not having met either of them in person, and knowing that folks aren't always what they appear to be, I believe the truth is somewhere in the middle. I could have dealt with that, but when the mole entered the picture things became a bit skewed. I can do nothing more than throw up my hands and excuse myself because I now have a trust issue.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
Remember, I’m a Minnesota girl – born and bred – grew up a conservative Norwegian Lutheran – and I admit that I’m naïve and a very trusting soul when it comes to people. I take folks at face value and expect them to be what they say they are. In turn – what you see – er – read is what you get. That’s me. No fluff, no pomp and circumstances, just me. That’s the way Ole is too, and I think we’ve raised Lovely Daughter to be the same way. There’s a term up here called “Minnesota Nice,” which means there’s some morals and ethics involved somewhere.
There is a foul wind that has blown up among some of those planning to attend the Javalina Hunt. It’s gotten rather ugly on both sides, and now has widened out to include several others. I’ve become very disillusioned with some of the Javalina Hunters, and all the backbiting and posturing that is taking place, not to mention trust issues – like sharing passwords to locked diaries, or passing on information that was entrusted to you by giving you the password to a private diary. You know who you are. I won’t mention names, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Just the fact that I left a comment in Blogger #1's private diary, and immediately received a rather caustic and defensive email from Blogger #2 regarding that comment because I know that Blogger #2 didn’t have the password. The comment I left was certainly not negative about anyone; I was just asking a question. And I certainly feel that I should be able to make a comment in a LOCKED diary without fear of repercussions from an outsider – one who isn’t supposed to be there in the first place!! I guess I was very wrong when I thought I could trust mutual bloggers. There’s a mole in the midst.
Just to make things perfectly clear, I'm not now, nor have I in the past, taken sides with either Blogger #1 or #2. They each have their own opinion. Not having met either of them in person, and knowing that folks aren't always what they appear to be, I believe the truth is somewhere in the middle. I could have dealt with that, but when the mole entered the picture things became a bit skewed. I can do nothing more than throw up my hands and excuse myself because I now have a trust issue.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Ole gets released - for now
Remember, I said I couldn't wait to see how things would be changed today? Ole was discharged this afternoon and is currently at home.
But, I'm okay with it this time. Even I could see marked improvement in his leg.
When I called Ole this morning about 8:30 and he told me he was to be discharged this afternoon, I blew. Indian lady doctor was at it again. She had instructed her senior resident to write the discharge orders and the process had begun. By the time I got up there I was fuming and went straight to the nurse's station and asked for a patient advocate. I also informed them that I would not take Ole home until he had been seen by both the infectious disease doctor and the surgeon. It just so happened that both of them happened to be on the floor at that time and a meeting was arranged in Tony's room. Yesterday the surgeon had ordered a surgical stocking to be put on his leg all the way up to his hip. That apparently helped tremendously because a lot of the redness and pain had disappeared over night and he was now able to walk with very little discomfort. Both doctors very thoroughly examined the leg, ordered further blood work and after getting the results they decided they were comfortable with Tony going home this afternoon. The blood work indicated there is very little infection left. Of course Indian lady doctor was nowhere to be found.
I questioned them thoroughly about activity levels, etc. so both Ole and I understand just what can and can't be done.
I can't tell you how relieved I was after talking with both of them. Prior to this I felt like I was being kicked in the stomach every five minutes.
One very interesting thing about this entire scenario. When Ole was admitted to the hospital on Monday he was put in a double room and had a roommate. Never during the entire time that he was in this room did anyone gown when they came in. I thought this was rather strange because I know that staph is very contagious. But at that point, I ASSumed they knew what they were doing.
Thursday, when the infectious disease doctor got involved they were suddenly able to find a private room for him and everyone started gowning when they entered with the exception of the ID doctor. When he was in the room at one point and a nurse came in gowned he asked her why. He then informed her that Ole definitely did not have staph - the bloodwork that he had done indicated that it was strep. Now all week long he's been being treated for staph, which requires different antibiotics than strep. When a second antibiotic was added that treated strep, that's when he started making progress. Then the damn lady doctor would come in and change the orders and hang something entirely different, something I'm assuming that was for staph only, as each time she would change the meds his situation would quit improving.
Lovely Daughter and I met with the patient advocate about noon and laid everything out. We had both been keeping notes so there wasn't much that we forgot. Lady Indian doctor has only been at MeritCare for 30 days. I don't know where she came from, but she is titled as the attending physician and has a senior resident and an intern following her around and teaching them - if you could call it that. I informed the advocate that the nursing staff was superior, but of course they have to take their instructions from the attending physician. The attending physician is Internal Medicine. And what right she had to override the specialists orders amazes me. So the patient advocate wrote up the report and assured me that it would be turned in as they supposedly take these kinds of things very seriously. I requested a follow-up call because I want to KNOW what the results are. I'm sure she'll just get her fingers slapped, and then be told to go on her merry way - if that.
I also told the advocate that I was just happy to be bringing Tony home alive and with all his parts - at least at this point. I assured her that if there was a reoccurrence of this I would certainly NOT bring him back to MeritCare. Nor will I bring him to Innovis, the other large medical facility we have in town as I've heard horror stories about things there also. I'll just put him in the van and head for the Mayo Clinic in Rochester.
He has 3 followup doctor appointments next week - one with the surgeon, one with the ID doctor and one with the senior resident that was following Indian lady doctor around. We'll definitely keep the two specialist appointments, but we'll have to THINK about the resident appointment.
I'm exhausted. I'm going to go take a nap.
But, I'm okay with it this time. Even I could see marked improvement in his leg.
When I called Ole this morning about 8:30 and he told me he was to be discharged this afternoon, I blew. Indian lady doctor was at it again. She had instructed her senior resident to write the discharge orders and the process had begun. By the time I got up there I was fuming and went straight to the nurse's station and asked for a patient advocate. I also informed them that I would not take Ole home until he had been seen by both the infectious disease doctor and the surgeon. It just so happened that both of them happened to be on the floor at that time and a meeting was arranged in Tony's room. Yesterday the surgeon had ordered a surgical stocking to be put on his leg all the way up to his hip. That apparently helped tremendously because a lot of the redness and pain had disappeared over night and he was now able to walk with very little discomfort. Both doctors very thoroughly examined the leg, ordered further blood work and after getting the results they decided they were comfortable with Tony going home this afternoon. The blood work indicated there is very little infection left. Of course Indian lady doctor was nowhere to be found.
I questioned them thoroughly about activity levels, etc. so both Ole and I understand just what can and can't be done.
I can't tell you how relieved I was after talking with both of them. Prior to this I felt like I was being kicked in the stomach every five minutes.
One very interesting thing about this entire scenario. When Ole was admitted to the hospital on Monday he was put in a double room and had a roommate. Never during the entire time that he was in this room did anyone gown when they came in. I thought this was rather strange because I know that staph is very contagious. But at that point, I ASSumed they knew what they were doing.
Thursday, when the infectious disease doctor got involved they were suddenly able to find a private room for him and everyone started gowning when they entered with the exception of the ID doctor. When he was in the room at one point and a nurse came in gowned he asked her why. He then informed her that Ole definitely did not have staph - the bloodwork that he had done indicated that it was strep. Now all week long he's been being treated for staph, which requires different antibiotics than strep. When a second antibiotic was added that treated strep, that's when he started making progress. Then the damn lady doctor would come in and change the orders and hang something entirely different, something I'm assuming that was for staph only, as each time she would change the meds his situation would quit improving.
Lovely Daughter and I met with the patient advocate about noon and laid everything out. We had both been keeping notes so there wasn't much that we forgot. Lady Indian doctor has only been at MeritCare for 30 days. I don't know where she came from, but she is titled as the attending physician and has a senior resident and an intern following her around and teaching them - if you could call it that. I informed the advocate that the nursing staff was superior, but of course they have to take their instructions from the attending physician. The attending physician is Internal Medicine. And what right she had to override the specialists orders amazes me. So the patient advocate wrote up the report and assured me that it would be turned in as they supposedly take these kinds of things very seriously. I requested a follow-up call because I want to KNOW what the results are. I'm sure she'll just get her fingers slapped, and then be told to go on her merry way - if that.
I also told the advocate that I was just happy to be bringing Tony home alive and with all his parts - at least at this point. I assured her that if there was a reoccurrence of this I would certainly NOT bring him back to MeritCare. Nor will I bring him to Innovis, the other large medical facility we have in town as I've heard horror stories about things there also. I'll just put him in the van and head for the Mayo Clinic in Rochester.
He has 3 followup doctor appointments next week - one with the surgeon, one with the ID doctor and one with the senior resident that was following Indian lady doctor around. We'll definitely keep the two specialist appointments, but we'll have to THINK about the resident appointment.
I'm exhausted. I'm going to go take a nap.
%&@#*^!+!!!
I was so tired when I got home from the hospital last night there was no way I could sit down to write an entry and have it make any sense. I'm really not sure I'm any better off this morning, but I'll give it a try.
Recap: When I left the hospital on Wednesday night the Infectious Disease (ID) guy had been in, changed the medication in the IV drips and told Ole he would be there for at least a couple more days. He also ordered an MRI. The interesting thing is that the doctor from the ER that had admitted Ole also ordered an MRI way last Monday. Obviously Indian lady doctor didn't think it was necessary, because there hadn't been one done. Remember - she's the one that wanted to discharge him on Wednesday. She also changed the IV drip meds AGAIN that had been prescribed by the ID guy. I think this woman has a control issue. And I think it's at Tony's expense. I'm going to connect with a patient advocate today and discuss things with her.
The MRI was done on Thursday afternoon. It showed that the infection has not reached the bone, but some of the subcutaneous tissue has started to degrade (die). That's the tissue that is right below the surface of the skin. This is definitely not good. So the ID guy called in a surgeon to consult (another Indian by the way) So far we haven't seen a white doctor other than in the ER. The ID guy was Indian also.
The surgeon came in last night while I was still there so I got the whole lowdown. I was a bit taken aback when I read his name badge and it said, "Dr. Mistry - TRANSPLANT DEPARTMENT." He feels that Ole doesn't need surgery right now, but will in the future. How far in the future depends on how he heals at this point. Ole's leg is still very red, the tissue is very hard and causes him a lot of pain when he walks. It's this doctor's opinion that the pain is not being caused by the infection, but by the large varicose veins that Ole has in that leg. He thinks they need to be removed or this problem will be frequently reoccurring. He also told us he wouldn't be discharging Ole before Sunday - depending on how things go. I wonder if Indian lady doctor will come along and change those orders too.
So far, since being admitted to the hospital Ole has seen 5 different doctors and has received 5 different opinions. It makes my head spin and I don't know which way to turn anymore. I truly need some added advice from someone who has Ole's best interests in mind - not their own ego trip.
I'm headed to the hospital shortly to sit in the chair and wait for the doctor(s) arrival. I just can't wait to see how they're going to change things around again today.
The one good thing that happened yesterday is that they moved him to a private room.
More as things develop.
Recap: When I left the hospital on Wednesday night the Infectious Disease (ID) guy had been in, changed the medication in the IV drips and told Ole he would be there for at least a couple more days. He also ordered an MRI. The interesting thing is that the doctor from the ER that had admitted Ole also ordered an MRI way last Monday. Obviously Indian lady doctor didn't think it was necessary, because there hadn't been one done. Remember - she's the one that wanted to discharge him on Wednesday. She also changed the IV drip meds AGAIN that had been prescribed by the ID guy. I think this woman has a control issue. And I think it's at Tony's expense. I'm going to connect with a patient advocate today and discuss things with her.
The MRI was done on Thursday afternoon. It showed that the infection has not reached the bone, but some of the subcutaneous tissue has started to degrade (die). That's the tissue that is right below the surface of the skin. This is definitely not good. So the ID guy called in a surgeon to consult (another Indian by the way) So far we haven't seen a white doctor other than in the ER. The ID guy was Indian also.
The surgeon came in last night while I was still there so I got the whole lowdown. I was a bit taken aback when I read his name badge and it said, "Dr. Mistry - TRANSPLANT DEPARTMENT." He feels that Ole doesn't need surgery right now, but will in the future. How far in the future depends on how he heals at this point. Ole's leg is still very red, the tissue is very hard and causes him a lot of pain when he walks. It's this doctor's opinion that the pain is not being caused by the infection, but by the large varicose veins that Ole has in that leg. He thinks they need to be removed or this problem will be frequently reoccurring. He also told us he wouldn't be discharging Ole before Sunday - depending on how things go. I wonder if Indian lady doctor will come along and change those orders too.
So far, since being admitted to the hospital Ole has seen 5 different doctors and has received 5 different opinions. It makes my head spin and I don't know which way to turn anymore. I truly need some added advice from someone who has Ole's best interests in mind - not their own ego trip.
I'm headed to the hospital shortly to sit in the chair and wait for the doctor(s) arrival. I just can't wait to see how they're going to change things around again today.
The one good thing that happened yesterday is that they moved him to a private room.
More as things develop.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
AAAACCCCKKKK!! Where do I start??
It’s been a long day and I think my brain may be a bit on the fried side, so please bear with me, and I hope this all makes sense.
First of all Ole has made more progress in the last 24 hours. The area of coverage is reduced and the intensity of the redness is reduced. So that's all good. But he still has a lot of pain. Says when he steps on the leg it feels like it's going to explode from the pressure.
Yesterday the doctor I spoke with on the phone said they were going to keep Ole for a minimum of two more days with IVs. Today I was supposed to meet with the two doctors and one intern that are overseeing him. Well, I did. That's where the AACCCKKK comes in.
All three are Indian, and difficult to understand. I'm beginning to wonder if The Big Hospital even HAS any white doctors anymore - doctors that speak AMERICAN ENGLISH.
Anyway, the head doctor of the team is female - not that there's anything wrong with that - BUT - - she marched in, looked down her nose at me and told me that they were discharging Ole today. They were going to take him off the IVs and send him home with two new oral antibiotics. She assured me that these new oral pills would cover a broader spectrum of "bugs" than the ones he had been sent home with before. And IF he didn't get better on these pills then I should just bring him back.
NOT!!
First of all, if he's finally making progress on the meds he's on now, why not let him make a bit more progress before changing things again. Second, why was I told one thing late yesterday afternoon and now the whole plan was 180 degrees different - yesterday I was told he had to be there for at least two more days and now you want to discharge him. What happened that made such a drastic difference in the treatment plan? Third, these three Indian doctors are Internal Medicine. Why hasn't someone from Infectious Disease seen him, as was ordered by the doctor in the ER on the day Ole was admitted.
Lady Dr. informed me that she had consulted ON THE PHONE with someone from Infectious Disease, but she didn't feel that anyone needed to see him from that department. She felt that he had made sufficient progress in the last 24 hours that he could be taken off the IVs and put on oral meds. I explained to her AGAIN what had happened the first time he was taken off IVs too soon - that's what caused him to end up in the hospital. I told her I wanted him to make MORE progress than just 24 hours worth before I would be willing to take him home.
We battled verbally back and forth for several minutes but she would not change her mind about anything. Finally Ole just gave in and said, okay, let's try it. I gave up also - because I could see there would be no changing this woman's mind. I think her ego was getting in the way and she was refusing to listen to what we were saying.
After Lady Dr. left I called Lovely Daughter and explained to her that her father was being discharged. I could hear the explosion from where I was sitting – 3 miles from her office. I guess there are times when it's okay for your daughter to be assertive and aggressive. She came over to the hospital immediately and asked to see Lady Dr.. She and I went through the same scenario again - let's get him a bit better before we make changes, and again she wouldn't hear of it. Finally Lovely Daughter pulled out the Big Guns and told her that we wanted a second opinion - according to the Patient's Bill of Rights we have the right to have a second opinion and we wanted it from someone from Infectious Disease. Lady Dr. was so taken aback - you could see in her face that she didn't like it, but that she couldn't deny us the second opinion, and said she would make arrangements for someone from Infectious Disease to come over tomorrow morning.
Meanwhile the doggers had been shut up in the garage for more than 8 hours so we decided to run home and let them out. By the time we got back to the hospital the Infectious Disease guy (another Indian by the way) had been to see Ole, looked at his leg, shook his head and said there was no way that he should be sent home. His plan is to keep him on IVs for another 48 hours THEN evaluate. His theory is that once you find something that's working you don't change it - let it work. Although he has added Augmentin to the "syrup" that Ole’s getting. Augmentin is a kind of penicillin specifically used for skin infections - and is super powerful - more so than the oral drugs he had been given.
WHY should things have to be this difficult. I think this woman's ego was getting in the way of practicing good medicine.
Following this entire scenario, Ole's nurse, came in and told us that she was caring for 4 patients on the floor. Lady Dr. wanted all four of them discharged today. In the nurse's opinion only one was ready to be discharged, and if the other three (which included Ole) were discharged she was going to write up a safety report on each case so that if they had to be readmitted to the hospital there could be some documentation regarding care. If this were to happen she advised us to contact a patient advocate and proceed from there. She also told us we could fire Lady Dr. from Ole’s case. If this kind of care continues we just may do that.
So there you have it - at least as much as I can remember as I think my brain has turned to mush. It's been a long day with a lot of stress. You shouldn't have to go through this type of thing when you are in, or have a loved one in a medical facility. You should just be taken care of and not have to worry about getting correct and proper care.
First of all Ole has made more progress in the last 24 hours. The area of coverage is reduced and the intensity of the redness is reduced. So that's all good. But he still has a lot of pain. Says when he steps on the leg it feels like it's going to explode from the pressure.
Yesterday the doctor I spoke with on the phone said they were going to keep Ole for a minimum of two more days with IVs. Today I was supposed to meet with the two doctors and one intern that are overseeing him. Well, I did. That's where the AACCCKKK comes in.
All three are Indian, and difficult to understand. I'm beginning to wonder if The Big Hospital even HAS any white doctors anymore - doctors that speak AMERICAN ENGLISH.
Anyway, the head doctor of the team is female - not that there's anything wrong with that - BUT - - she marched in, looked down her nose at me and told me that they were discharging Ole today. They were going to take him off the IVs and send him home with two new oral antibiotics. She assured me that these new oral pills would cover a broader spectrum of "bugs" than the ones he had been sent home with before. And IF he didn't get better on these pills then I should just bring him back.
NOT!!
First of all, if he's finally making progress on the meds he's on now, why not let him make a bit more progress before changing things again. Second, why was I told one thing late yesterday afternoon and now the whole plan was 180 degrees different - yesterday I was told he had to be there for at least two more days and now you want to discharge him. What happened that made such a drastic difference in the treatment plan? Third, these three Indian doctors are Internal Medicine. Why hasn't someone from Infectious Disease seen him, as was ordered by the doctor in the ER on the day Ole was admitted.
Lady Dr. informed me that she had consulted ON THE PHONE with someone from Infectious Disease, but she didn't feel that anyone needed to see him from that department. She felt that he had made sufficient progress in the last 24 hours that he could be taken off the IVs and put on oral meds. I explained to her AGAIN what had happened the first time he was taken off IVs too soon - that's what caused him to end up in the hospital. I told her I wanted him to make MORE progress than just 24 hours worth before I would be willing to take him home.
We battled verbally back and forth for several minutes but she would not change her mind about anything. Finally Ole just gave in and said, okay, let's try it. I gave up also - because I could see there would be no changing this woman's mind. I think her ego was getting in the way and she was refusing to listen to what we were saying.
After Lady Dr. left I called Lovely Daughter and explained to her that her father was being discharged. I could hear the explosion from where I was sitting – 3 miles from her office. I guess there are times when it's okay for your daughter to be assertive and aggressive. She came over to the hospital immediately and asked to see Lady Dr.. She and I went through the same scenario again - let's get him a bit better before we make changes, and again she wouldn't hear of it. Finally Lovely Daughter pulled out the Big Guns and told her that we wanted a second opinion - according to the Patient's Bill of Rights we have the right to have a second opinion and we wanted it from someone from Infectious Disease. Lady Dr. was so taken aback - you could see in her face that she didn't like it, but that she couldn't deny us the second opinion, and said she would make arrangements for someone from Infectious Disease to come over tomorrow morning.
Meanwhile the doggers had been shut up in the garage for more than 8 hours so we decided to run home and let them out. By the time we got back to the hospital the Infectious Disease guy (another Indian by the way) had been to see Ole, looked at his leg, shook his head and said there was no way that he should be sent home. His plan is to keep him on IVs for another 48 hours THEN evaluate. His theory is that once you find something that's working you don't change it - let it work. Although he has added Augmentin to the "syrup" that Ole’s getting. Augmentin is a kind of penicillin specifically used for skin infections - and is super powerful - more so than the oral drugs he had been given.
WHY should things have to be this difficult. I think this woman's ego was getting in the way of practicing good medicine.
Following this entire scenario, Ole's nurse, came in and told us that she was caring for 4 patients on the floor. Lady Dr. wanted all four of them discharged today. In the nurse's opinion only one was ready to be discharged, and if the other three (which included Ole) were discharged she was going to write up a safety report on each case so that if they had to be readmitted to the hospital there could be some documentation regarding care. If this were to happen she advised us to contact a patient advocate and proceed from there. She also told us we could fire Lady Dr. from Ole’s case. If this kind of care continues we just may do that.
So there you have it - at least as much as I can remember as I think my brain has turned to mush. It's been a long day with a lot of stress. You shouldn't have to go through this type of thing when you are in, or have a loved one in a medical facility. You should just be taken care of and not have to worry about getting correct and proper care.
A Teensy Bit of Progress
I spent the evening at the hospital last night and I'm happy to say that there has been a SLIGHT improvement in the infection in the last 24 hours. His leg is slightly less red and the area encompassed is slightly smaller. So maybe we're making progress. They added a second medication to the IVs and that seems to have made the difference. He's now getting vancomycin and ampacillan constantly. It takes approximately two hours for the bags to run through, and each two hours there are new bags put up. They're still giving him meds for pain and will gave him a shot of morphine last night so that he could sleep.
I spoke with the doctor over the phone tonight. He's Indian, so I had a bit of trouble understanding him, but I think I got most of it. I'll be meeting with the three doctors today at noon, so I'll clarify everything at that time. But here's what I think I understood.
They intend to keep him for a minimum of another couple of days and then will evaluate at that point. Depending on how he's doing they may send him to a transitional unit, which means possibly a nursing home (isn't he going to LOVE that) because they may want to have IVs administered for another 10-14 days. If they feel he's doing well enough they may send him home and have a home health nurse or a pharmacist come out to the house and administer the IVs. Or they may just keep him in the hospital for the duration. That would be my choice, but I guess we'll see what happens.
Then, after he's over the infection and has had a chance to heal, about 6 weeks later he will have to see a vascular surgeon about his leg. He was real happy about that also. The doctor I spoke to said if he doesn't do something about the surface veins he will guarantee that this will come back again.
They still aren't sure whether it's a staph infection or a strep infection. When I asked the doctor why they couldn't tell he explained that the latest blood cultures that they did were masked because he has been on antibiotics for so long so they couldn't get a true picture. So at this point they're treating him for both.
HE thinks he's still going to Sturgis and will go to the VA hospital down there to have his IVs administered. I wonder what fantasy world he lives in.
Thanks to all of you who have sent good wishes and said prayers for both of us. I’ve passed on all the messages to him. And K-Lo, I delivered your very best smooch last night and told him it was from you. That gave him a good chuckle. His comment was, “Well, at least in this position she could reach my lips. Standing up she would have only reached my belly button!”
Ole had a lot of company yesterday, even Jane stopped in after work. She ONLY stayed an HOUR AND A HALF!!
Well, I’m off to the hospital.
I spoke with the doctor over the phone tonight. He's Indian, so I had a bit of trouble understanding him, but I think I got most of it. I'll be meeting with the three doctors today at noon, so I'll clarify everything at that time. But here's what I think I understood.
They intend to keep him for a minimum of another couple of days and then will evaluate at that point. Depending on how he's doing they may send him to a transitional unit, which means possibly a nursing home (isn't he going to LOVE that) because they may want to have IVs administered for another 10-14 days. If they feel he's doing well enough they may send him home and have a home health nurse or a pharmacist come out to the house and administer the IVs. Or they may just keep him in the hospital for the duration. That would be my choice, but I guess we'll see what happens.
Then, after he's over the infection and has had a chance to heal, about 6 weeks later he will have to see a vascular surgeon about his leg. He was real happy about that also. The doctor I spoke to said if he doesn't do something about the surface veins he will guarantee that this will come back again.
They still aren't sure whether it's a staph infection or a strep infection. When I asked the doctor why they couldn't tell he explained that the latest blood cultures that they did were masked because he has been on antibiotics for so long so they couldn't get a true picture. So at this point they're treating him for both.
HE thinks he's still going to Sturgis and will go to the VA hospital down there to have his IVs administered. I wonder what fantasy world he lives in.
Thanks to all of you who have sent good wishes and said prayers for both of us. I’ve passed on all the messages to him. And K-Lo, I delivered your very best smooch last night and told him it was from you. That gave him a good chuckle. His comment was, “Well, at least in this position she could reach my lips. Standing up she would have only reached my belly button!”
Ole had a lot of company yesterday, even Jane stopped in after work. She ONLY stayed an HOUR AND A HALF!!
Well, I’m off to the hospital.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Never count on anything
My friend, Genny, told me a long time ago that she's just quit counting on anything because she always gets disappointed. She also doesn't plan anything in advance because she gets the same results - disappointment. She kind of flies by the seat of her pants throughout most of her life and has learned to roll with the punches.
I need to learn how to do that - desperately.
Ole and I were supposed to leave on our month's vacation yesterday. This is the third trip we've planned since last March that we've had to cancel. Ole was admitted into the hospital yesterday instead. He wasn't getting any better over the weekend so on Monday morning I threatened him with either getting in my car and going back to the ER or calling 911 and having him taken in by ambulance. (I have my ways, you know.)
After waiting for over two hours to see a doctor, it was decided to admit him where they will pump him full of antibiotics every four hours instead of ever 12. Along with that they'll give him IV pain meds because he was in pretty bad shape. After talking with him on the phone this morning he sounded pretty droopy - hadn't had much sleep last night because somebody was always poking and prodding him. The doctor had been in to visit this morning and said he was surprised that there was very little change in his leg, although the blood work showed the infection was localized and not spread throughout his bloodstream. Thank heavens for that. I know that staph is an extremely difficult infection to get rid of and with Ole's complications of diabetes and crushed cells and surface veins in his affected leg, this will only be more complicated.
I have one friend whose husband died from a staph infection that couldn't be brought under control, and another friend whose uncle died from it also. I'm extremely worried - and a lot scared. So put in a good word with the Man Upstairs for Ole, please, and I could use one too, to keep my sanity. Thanks in advance.
One little bright spot in my life right now is Lucy. Isn't she a pretty little thing?
I have a lot of difficulty working on the computer because as soon as she sees me sitting here she's up on the desk in front of the monitor chirping at me. She doesn't meow, she kind of chirps like a little bird. I had her in for shots and to be spayed so she's truly mine now. For a free little cat that came to my house I've now got over $300 invested. Oh, well, if you can't afford to take care of your pets you shouldn't have them.
Senior Citizen Simon has been such a gentleman throughout Lucy's arrival. Never a fuss or fume from him about anything regarding her. When they're outside she follows him around like a little shadow and he acts like he's showing her the ropes. I can't believe how much she's grown since she came here, but I guess getting some good food in her helped that issue. No more ribs and backbone sticking out. And she's such a little lover. I'm so glad she came into my life.
I need to learn how to do that - desperately.
Ole and I were supposed to leave on our month's vacation yesterday. This is the third trip we've planned since last March that we've had to cancel. Ole was admitted into the hospital yesterday instead. He wasn't getting any better over the weekend so on Monday morning I threatened him with either getting in my car and going back to the ER or calling 911 and having him taken in by ambulance. (I have my ways, you know.)
After waiting for over two hours to see a doctor, it was decided to admit him where they will pump him full of antibiotics every four hours instead of ever 12. Along with that they'll give him IV pain meds because he was in pretty bad shape. After talking with him on the phone this morning he sounded pretty droopy - hadn't had much sleep last night because somebody was always poking and prodding him. The doctor had been in to visit this morning and said he was surprised that there was very little change in his leg, although the blood work showed the infection was localized and not spread throughout his bloodstream. Thank heavens for that. I know that staph is an extremely difficult infection to get rid of and with Ole's complications of diabetes and crushed cells and surface veins in his affected leg, this will only be more complicated.
I have one friend whose husband died from a staph infection that couldn't be brought under control, and another friend whose uncle died from it also. I'm extremely worried - and a lot scared. So put in a good word with the Man Upstairs for Ole, please, and I could use one too, to keep my sanity. Thanks in advance.
One little bright spot in my life right now is Lucy. Isn't she a pretty little thing?
I have a lot of difficulty working on the computer because as soon as she sees me sitting here she's up on the desk in front of the monitor chirping at me. She doesn't meow, she kind of chirps like a little bird. I had her in for shots and to be spayed so she's truly mine now. For a free little cat that came to my house I've now got over $300 invested. Oh, well, if you can't afford to take care of your pets you shouldn't have them.
Senior Citizen Simon has been such a gentleman throughout Lucy's arrival. Never a fuss or fume from him about anything regarding her. When they're outside she follows him around like a little shadow and he acts like he's showing her the ropes. I can't believe how much she's grown since she came here, but I guess getting some good food in her helped that issue. No more ribs and backbone sticking out. And she's such a little lover. I'm so glad she came into my life.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Oh, what a week
Oh, what a week it’s been. I haven’t posted anything for eleven days – sorry. Beat me with a piece of lutefisk then, if you must.
I’ve been trying to get my yard in order because the Ya-Ya’s are coming out on Thursday afternoon. We’re visiting each other’s houses to see our flower gardens. And I’ve got weeds that are higher than my flowers in some places. Things have really gotten away from me this year. It’s either too hot to work outside, the bugs are too bad, or it’s raining. Do I need any more excuses? We had one cool, windy day last Saturday and I managed to get a lot done, so at least part of it looks good. I’m on my way outside now to spray some more thistles – better living through chemistry you know. You just can’t dig those suckers out because of their long taproot, and not all sprays will kill them. So I’ve managed to come by a farm chemical that Farmer Neighbor Dave introduced me to, and when you hit those babies with this spray they’re dead – they just don’t know it yet. So MAYBE I’ll have everything ready for the Ya-Ya’s. Then we’re going to sit by the fire pit and have a margarita or two.
Ole was going to make us margaritas and a burger or two on the grille, but I think that went by the wayside. I think Ole will still be hobbling around and maybe spending a better portion of that day on his back in bed. Remember me saying that every time we have decided to take a trip ever since last spring, something has happened and we’ve had to cancel? Well, that might be happening again.
Last Wednesday night Ole went to bed feeling just fine. About 3 o’clock in the morning he woke up in a terrible amount of pain in his neck, shoulders, back and legs. He was running a temp, hot and cold, all the symptoms of a good old-fashioned flu. During this time he wouldn’t eat anything because he also had a sore throat. Didn’t matter what I did, he wouldn’t eat, and if you’re a diabetic, you know that doesn’t work very well. Friday afternoon the end result was that he started to go into diabetic shock. Really scary. I told him if he wouldn’t start cooperating I was going to call 911 and get the First Responders out here. And since he IS one, he thought that might be a bit embarrassing, so he drank the orange juice and the regular Coke that I gave him and ate the PB&J toast that I made. About 45 minutes later he felt better in that respect. Damn men – you have to beat them over the head sometimes, right?
Then I noticed that his left leg was turning bright red from his ankle to his knee. About 30 years ago Ole was in a motorcycle accident and crushed some of the surface veins in that leg right above the ankle. Diabetics have issues with circulation in their legs anyway, so those crushed veins didn’t help his current situation. His leg was red and hot to the touch and swollen and I was afraid a blood clot was developing. I tried to get him to go into the walk-in clinic on Saturday morning, but again – men – beat them over the head with a stick and they still don’t cooperate when it comes to medical things.
So Monday morning I picked up the phone and told him I was dialing 911 and he finally consented to let me take him into the ER.
Well, if THAT wasn’t an experience. We waited an hour and a half to see a doctor (very kind man) who ran ultrasound tests and determined that there was no blood clot – thank heavens – but that he has a bad case of cellulites. That’s bad enough, but at least much more easily treated than a blood clot. He received an IV of some very strong antibiotics that took two hours to drip and then was told that he has to report back to the ER every 12 hours for the next 3 days to receive a 2 hour IV drip each time. From then on he’ll be on oral antibiotics for at least 30 days. But, according to the doctor, at least we’ll be able to go on our trip. We would both have been extremely disappointed if we’d had to cancel again.
So Ole was scheduled to go back to the ER last night at midnight. What a zoo. You can’t imagine what comes out of the woodwork between midnight and 2 a.m. in an ER. They’ve recently done a remodel of the triage area in the ER. All the nurses previously were out in the open or in a little cubicle. They are now all behind walls with bulletproof glass in the windows and steels doors that are locked. I can understand this in big cities like New York or LA, but our little town – it’s only 150,000 people.
In between all of this the county fair opened and of course Ole, Lovely Daughter and I always enter exhibits. Ole entered two bottles of homemade wine this year and won Reserve Grand Champion on one of them. He’s pretty proud and of course plans to bring a stash along down to Tombstone so the Javalina Hunters can all sample. And Lovely Daughter won Grand Champion on an afghan that she crocheted. She was amazed that she had gotten Grand Champion, but she did a beautiful job on this particular piece. I didn’t enter any photography this year. Things have just gotten away from me this summer and I didn’t have time to get anything ready that I thought was exhibit quality. Oh, well, there’s always next year. And with our upcoming trip I hope to get some great pictures.
Then also in the midst of all of this commotion we had to deal with the dike guys. We’re trying to get our property diked so that we don’t have to worry about the mighty river flooding our property every time we get a heavy rain. When we first moved out here back in 1974 we didn’t have all these problems. If they got 3 inches of rain upstream from us you wouldn’t even notice the river rise. Now if they get 3 inches of rain upstream from us the river goes up 3 to 5 feet within a matter of 36 hours. So there is a program in the state of Minnesota where the feds will pay for 50% of the cost of a dike, the state will pay for 25% and the landowner pays the other 25% to have a ring dike built around your property. We’ve been dealing with the Watershed Board for two years and they finally agreed they would start proceedings by having the soil tested to see if it’s stable enough to support a dike. You can’t imagine all the hoops you have to jump through to get something like this done. Then the board has to get permission from FEMA and from all the landowners for many miles surrounding our property to see if there are any objections and run tests to see how our dike will impact the water flow and the level on everyone else’s property. I won’t go on because I just get angry, but at least the proceedings are started. We’ll see how far we get.
I took little Lucy in to the vet this morning to get spayed. I will be able to go pick her up this afternoon sometime. I have errands to run in town before I pick her up. Need to go to Best Buy and buy some lens filters for my new camera. I particularly like a star filter and used it a lot on my old camera, but haven’t gotten that far yet with my new one. Also need to pick up a stand and a case for my new keyboard, as Ole wants me to bring that along in the RV also. I’m not sure why, because we’ll be spending most of our time on the bike, but I’ll bring it along to humor him.
I know this is a cartoon about a dog getting neutered, but it still fits with Lucy getting neutered. Hope you get a chuckle out of it.
I’m also chairman for a parking lot party that our church is putting on Wednesday night. We’ve hired a band to play in the parking lot and will serve free ice cream and lemonade throughout the concert. We just want to do something fun for the community and show them we aren’t a bunch of stodgy old Lutherans, and especially the Finlander Lutherans that K-lo wrote about recently. The band is a group that has been together for many years, from the local area, and they do a terrific job on the old 50s and 60s stuff so we hope to have a great turnout.
Now I need to go get busy and start packing the motor home.
Later Guys - -
I’ve been trying to get my yard in order because the Ya-Ya’s are coming out on Thursday afternoon. We’re visiting each other’s houses to see our flower gardens. And I’ve got weeds that are higher than my flowers in some places. Things have really gotten away from me this year. It’s either too hot to work outside, the bugs are too bad, or it’s raining. Do I need any more excuses? We had one cool, windy day last Saturday and I managed to get a lot done, so at least part of it looks good. I’m on my way outside now to spray some more thistles – better living through chemistry you know. You just can’t dig those suckers out because of their long taproot, and not all sprays will kill them. So I’ve managed to come by a farm chemical that Farmer Neighbor Dave introduced me to, and when you hit those babies with this spray they’re dead – they just don’t know it yet. So MAYBE I’ll have everything ready for the Ya-Ya’s. Then we’re going to sit by the fire pit and have a margarita or two.
Ole was going to make us margaritas and a burger or two on the grille, but I think that went by the wayside. I think Ole will still be hobbling around and maybe spending a better portion of that day on his back in bed. Remember me saying that every time we have decided to take a trip ever since last spring, something has happened and we’ve had to cancel? Well, that might be happening again.
Last Wednesday night Ole went to bed feeling just fine. About 3 o’clock in the morning he woke up in a terrible amount of pain in his neck, shoulders, back and legs. He was running a temp, hot and cold, all the symptoms of a good old-fashioned flu. During this time he wouldn’t eat anything because he also had a sore throat. Didn’t matter what I did, he wouldn’t eat, and if you’re a diabetic, you know that doesn’t work very well. Friday afternoon the end result was that he started to go into diabetic shock. Really scary. I told him if he wouldn’t start cooperating I was going to call 911 and get the First Responders out here. And since he IS one, he thought that might be a bit embarrassing, so he drank the orange juice and the regular Coke that I gave him and ate the PB&J toast that I made. About 45 minutes later he felt better in that respect. Damn men – you have to beat them over the head sometimes, right?
Then I noticed that his left leg was turning bright red from his ankle to his knee. About 30 years ago Ole was in a motorcycle accident and crushed some of the surface veins in that leg right above the ankle. Diabetics have issues with circulation in their legs anyway, so those crushed veins didn’t help his current situation. His leg was red and hot to the touch and swollen and I was afraid a blood clot was developing. I tried to get him to go into the walk-in clinic on Saturday morning, but again – men – beat them over the head with a stick and they still don’t cooperate when it comes to medical things.
So Monday morning I picked up the phone and told him I was dialing 911 and he finally consented to let me take him into the ER.
Well, if THAT wasn’t an experience. We waited an hour and a half to see a doctor (very kind man) who ran ultrasound tests and determined that there was no blood clot – thank heavens – but that he has a bad case of cellulites. That’s bad enough, but at least much more easily treated than a blood clot. He received an IV of some very strong antibiotics that took two hours to drip and then was told that he has to report back to the ER every 12 hours for the next 3 days to receive a 2 hour IV drip each time. From then on he’ll be on oral antibiotics for at least 30 days. But, according to the doctor, at least we’ll be able to go on our trip. We would both have been extremely disappointed if we’d had to cancel again.
So Ole was scheduled to go back to the ER last night at midnight. What a zoo. You can’t imagine what comes out of the woodwork between midnight and 2 a.m. in an ER. They’ve recently done a remodel of the triage area in the ER. All the nurses previously were out in the open or in a little cubicle. They are now all behind walls with bulletproof glass in the windows and steels doors that are locked. I can understand this in big cities like New York or LA, but our little town – it’s only 150,000 people.
In between all of this the county fair opened and of course Ole, Lovely Daughter and I always enter exhibits. Ole entered two bottles of homemade wine this year and won Reserve Grand Champion on one of them. He’s pretty proud and of course plans to bring a stash along down to Tombstone so the Javalina Hunters can all sample. And Lovely Daughter won Grand Champion on an afghan that she crocheted. She was amazed that she had gotten Grand Champion, but she did a beautiful job on this particular piece. I didn’t enter any photography this year. Things have just gotten away from me this summer and I didn’t have time to get anything ready that I thought was exhibit quality. Oh, well, there’s always next year. And with our upcoming trip I hope to get some great pictures.
Then also in the midst of all of this commotion we had to deal with the dike guys. We’re trying to get our property diked so that we don’t have to worry about the mighty river flooding our property every time we get a heavy rain. When we first moved out here back in 1974 we didn’t have all these problems. If they got 3 inches of rain upstream from us you wouldn’t even notice the river rise. Now if they get 3 inches of rain upstream from us the river goes up 3 to 5 feet within a matter of 36 hours. So there is a program in the state of Minnesota where the feds will pay for 50% of the cost of a dike, the state will pay for 25% and the landowner pays the other 25% to have a ring dike built around your property. We’ve been dealing with the Watershed Board for two years and they finally agreed they would start proceedings by having the soil tested to see if it’s stable enough to support a dike. You can’t imagine all the hoops you have to jump through to get something like this done. Then the board has to get permission from FEMA and from all the landowners for many miles surrounding our property to see if there are any objections and run tests to see how our dike will impact the water flow and the level on everyone else’s property. I won’t go on because I just get angry, but at least the proceedings are started. We’ll see how far we get.
I took little Lucy in to the vet this morning to get spayed. I will be able to go pick her up this afternoon sometime. I have errands to run in town before I pick her up. Need to go to Best Buy and buy some lens filters for my new camera. I particularly like a star filter and used it a lot on my old camera, but haven’t gotten that far yet with my new one. Also need to pick up a stand and a case for my new keyboard, as Ole wants me to bring that along in the RV also. I’m not sure why, because we’ll be spending most of our time on the bike, but I’ll bring it along to humor him.
I know this is a cartoon about a dog getting neutered, but it still fits with Lucy getting neutered. Hope you get a chuckle out of it.
I’m also chairman for a parking lot party that our church is putting on Wednesday night. We’ve hired a band to play in the parking lot and will serve free ice cream and lemonade throughout the concert. We just want to do something fun for the community and show them we aren’t a bunch of stodgy old Lutherans, and especially the Finlander Lutherans that K-lo wrote about recently. The band is a group that has been together for many years, from the local area, and they do a terrific job on the old 50s and 60s stuff so we hope to have a great turnout.
Now I need to go get busy and start packing the motor home.
Later Guys - -
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Bing, Bang, Boom & Splat
I didn't miss the 4th of July - I just didn't have time to post - life was just a bit busy yesterday. I trust that you all had an enjoyable day and didn't lose any fingers or toes blowing up fireworks.
Now isn't this just the epitome of an old fashioned Independence Day celebration. I wonder if anybody has frog jumping contests anymore? One of our little local towns has turtle races, but no frog jumping contests.
When I was a kid, celebrating the 4th of July was a big deal. We'd have tons of fireworks that we would work on all day long and then at night there would be many neighborhood displays. Do you remember those little cracker ball thingies that you would throw at cement and they would pop? How about snakes and zingers, and all those kid things that were so fun. And sparklers - how we would wait for twilight so Dad could light the sparklers and we could make all kinds of spectacular designs.
Today, in the state of Minnesota, it's against the law to buy or set off any kind of fireworks with the exception of what is called ground based fireworks of 75 grams or less (that's pretty small). Anything that goes up in the air is illegal. So in our little town last night, there were a lot of law breakers. There were a number of neighborhoods that spent several hours exploding beautiful things high up in the air. You could also see displays throughout the countryside where people were celebrating by blowing things up. I often wonder what it would be like to be flying in a plane and looking down on the 4th of July night.
Ole also participated in making loud noises last night. Several years ago he built a black powder cannon and loves to outdo everyone else with the big boom that he can make. He announced our arrival at Bob & Carol's house last night by blowing the cannon and rattling the neighborhood windows. Everyone was in the backyard and I was told jumped out of their skins when the cannon shot. Of course, that's just what Ole's looking for so he got his chuckles last night. Oh, and don't worry - he doesn't use cannonballs when he shoots it - he wads up kleenx and just blows shreds all over (snicker).
Today, in the state of Minnesota, it's against the law to buy or set off any kind of fireworks with the exception of what is called ground based fireworks of 75 grams or less (that's pretty small). Anything that goes up in the air is illegal. So in our little town last night, there were a lot of law breakers. There were a number of neighborhoods that spent several hours exploding beautiful things high up in the air. You could also see displays throughout the countryside where people were celebrating by blowing things up. I often wonder what it would be like to be flying in a plane and looking down on the 4th of July night.
Ole also participated in making loud noises last night. Several years ago he built a black powder cannon and loves to outdo everyone else with the big boom that he can make. He announced our arrival at Bob & Carol's house last night by blowing the cannon and rattling the neighborhood windows. Everyone was in the backyard and I was told jumped out of their skins when the cannon shot. Of course, that's just what Ole's looking for so he got his chuckles last night. Oh, and don't worry - he doesn't use cannonballs when he shoots it - he wads up kleenx and just blows shreds all over (snicker).
When I was a kid we always used to travel to my Uncle Emil's who had a dairy farm in central North Dakota. This was always the best because I got to spend several days with my favorite cousin, Jean. She was a year older than me and we were just like sisters. Celebrating the 4th of July there was always a really big deal. The celebration lasted for a couple of days. It always started with a pancake feed and lots of visiting around with the town's folk and the people who had come back to celebrate. There was a big parade in which Uncle Emil always rode his horse, all decked out in a beautiful saddle and red, white and blue ribbons. The horse was a gorgeous Palamino and was extremely well trained to do tricks. Then there was a big family picnic in the park and horseshoe tournaments. And a big rodeo in the afternoon - this was cowboy country, you know. The evening encompassed a musical play on stage out at the ball park and ended with a spectacular display of fireworks put on by the City. Somewhere around midnight our parents would pile us in the car where we would fall asleep in the backseat before they could drive us the two miles home and toss us into bed.
Cousin Jean and me
So belated happy 4th - I've got places to go and things to do.
Later, People.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
And in the Words of Forrest Gump -
Well, here it is Monday – the weekend is over – and I bet you’re all just dying to hear about Jane’s big surprise party for Dick, heh?
Ole and I didn’t arrive until about 6:30; visited with various folks for a while, put the steaks that WE brought on the grille and ate from all the dishes that were “brought to share.” Mmmm, there was some good stuff there. Potlucks are wonderful in that way, aren’t they? You get to taste everything. Anyway, there was a lot of food there and if anyone went home hungry it was their own fault.
About 8:30 the sex toy lady started hauling her suitcases full of stuff in and setting up her display. There were more colors and glow in the dark dildos than I could have ever imagined. There was stuff on that display table that I had no idea what it was used for – but then that could be my Norwegian Lutheran upbringing too, ya’ know. Kept in the dark all my life, that’s me.
The Fun Bus arrived promptly at 9 p.m. and all the guys that “were allowed” to go got on the bus. Dick was kind of hanging back, I’m not sure why. In fact I heard him say to another guy, “Do I have to go?” Anyway, the bus was full when it left Dick’s house, with the promise that they would be back in an hour or so. Bwahaha! What a joke.
Bob & Carol, Ole & I left shortly after that, stopped at Krabby’s for a drink, got blasted out by the music and were home by 10:30 – such party animals we are.
Bob said he saw Dick the next day (Sunday afternoon) and he was still in the bag with slits for eyes. Dick said Jane was still in bed after having been up all night. So I have no racy stories to tell about the happenings because we chose not to hang around and witness all the garbage. Besides, I have a difficult time being in the same room with Jane anymore and find it’s much better for my peace of mind to vacate the premises when she’s around. The only reason we went at all is because of Dick.
But tonight is half-price burger night at the Watering Hole, so I’m sure we’ll hear some stories tonight and I’ll fill you in.
Now, here is my philosophy. If you don’t want to hear it, just click the little red “X” in the upper right hand corner.
I am not a tea-totaler by any means. I do my share of consuming and I’m certainly not against anyone having a good time. Where I do have a problem is when someone gets so trashed they’re still in the bag the next day. Life is too short to waste the entire next day recuperating from the night before. Most generally the only thing you do when you’re in that condition is make an ass out of yourself, anyway.
So in the words of Forrest Gump, “And that’s all I have to say about that.”
Ole and I didn’t arrive until about 6:30; visited with various folks for a while, put the steaks that WE brought on the grille and ate from all the dishes that were “brought to share.” Mmmm, there was some good stuff there. Potlucks are wonderful in that way, aren’t they? You get to taste everything. Anyway, there was a lot of food there and if anyone went home hungry it was their own fault.
About 8:30 the sex toy lady started hauling her suitcases full of stuff in and setting up her display. There were more colors and glow in the dark dildos than I could have ever imagined. There was stuff on that display table that I had no idea what it was used for – but then that could be my Norwegian Lutheran upbringing too, ya’ know. Kept in the dark all my life, that’s me.
The Fun Bus arrived promptly at 9 p.m. and all the guys that “were allowed” to go got on the bus. Dick was kind of hanging back, I’m not sure why. In fact I heard him say to another guy, “Do I have to go?” Anyway, the bus was full when it left Dick’s house, with the promise that they would be back in an hour or so. Bwahaha! What a joke.
Bob & Carol, Ole & I left shortly after that, stopped at Krabby’s for a drink, got blasted out by the music and were home by 10:30 – such party animals we are.
Bob said he saw Dick the next day (Sunday afternoon) and he was still in the bag with slits for eyes. Dick said Jane was still in bed after having been up all night. So I have no racy stories to tell about the happenings because we chose not to hang around and witness all the garbage. Besides, I have a difficult time being in the same room with Jane anymore and find it’s much better for my peace of mind to vacate the premises when she’s around. The only reason we went at all is because of Dick.
But tonight is half-price burger night at the Watering Hole, so I’m sure we’ll hear some stories tonight and I’ll fill you in.
Now, here is my philosophy. If you don’t want to hear it, just click the little red “X” in the upper right hand corner.
I am not a tea-totaler by any means. I do my share of consuming and I’m certainly not against anyone having a good time. Where I do have a problem is when someone gets so trashed they’re still in the bag the next day. Life is too short to waste the entire next day recuperating from the night before. Most generally the only thing you do when you’re in that condition is make an ass out of yourself, anyway.
So in the words of Forrest Gump, “And that’s all I have to say about that.”
Thursday, June 26, 2008
The Big Surprise Party
I got tagged from Yankee Chick – she actually wants me to use a bit of brain power and write a six-word memoir. Now how in the world am I going to describe myself in six itty-bitty words when there’s so much to me, you know. I have so many wonderful traits and characteristics and to have to sum them all up in such a minor manner – I just don’t know if it can be done (snicker).
Lena loves lefse but not lutefisk.
So how’s that one then. I guess it certainly brings out my ScandiHOOvian characteristics. Now I’m supposed to tag five more bloggers and invite them to play too. Here’s the rules if you want to play along.
Write a six-word memoir.
Post it to your blog including a visual illustration if you would like.
Link to the prson who tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogsphere.
Tag 5 more blogs with links.
Don’t forget to leave a comment in the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.
So Saturday night is the night of the big surprise party. Just to refresh your memory, Jane is having this big surprise 50th birthday party for Dick. The invitation came out to bring your own meat to put on the grille, bring a dish to pass, BYOB. At 9 p.m. there will be a bus to pick up all the men WHO ARE ALLOWED TO GO and take them to the local strip club. Please be prepared to share in the cost of the bus. Once the guys are on their way there will be a sex toy party for the ladies. And because it’s a surprise party her last statement on the invitation read: “Now don’t let the pussy out of the panties, okay?”
It will be interesting to see how many guys hop on the bus.
Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. I'm supposed to tag 5 bloggers to play. Okay, let's see now - - -
Cosmic, Capitolady, Bluesleepy, Art, Meggie Lou
Okay, Folks, let's see what you can do.
Lena loves lefse but not lutefisk.
So how’s that one then. I guess it certainly brings out my ScandiHOOvian characteristics. Now I’m supposed to tag five more bloggers and invite them to play too. Here’s the rules if you want to play along.
Write a six-word memoir.
Post it to your blog including a visual illustration if you would like.
Link to the prson who tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogsphere.
Tag 5 more blogs with links.
Don’t forget to leave a comment in the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.
So Saturday night is the night of the big surprise party. Just to refresh your memory, Jane is having this big surprise 50th birthday party for Dick. The invitation came out to bring your own meat to put on the grille, bring a dish to pass, BYOB. At 9 p.m. there will be a bus to pick up all the men WHO ARE ALLOWED TO GO and take them to the local strip club. Please be prepared to share in the cost of the bus. Once the guys are on their way there will be a sex toy party for the ladies. And because it’s a surprise party her last statement on the invitation read: “Now don’t let the pussy out of the panties, okay?”
It will be interesting to see how many guys hop on the bus.
Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. I'm supposed to tag 5 bloggers to play. Okay, let's see now - - -
Cosmic, Capitolady, Bluesleepy, Art, Meggie Lou
Okay, Folks, let's see what you can do.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Life with Lucy
Anybody know who Connie is? She left the following comment on my previous post regarding the picture of the young man standing in the tractor bucket with a chain saw. She identified herself by her first name but signed in as ANONYMOUS and left no link to let us know if she’s a blogger or not.
“Sorry but my husband is a safety expert and that photo just became part of his photo gallery of how to kill or mame yourself quickly and easily.Connie”
Sorry to have offended your senses, Connie, but the method used in taking down that tree was not Ole’s idea – he’s a bit smarter than that. Bulletproof Man is in the business of taking down trees and that’s the method that HE chose. He carries his own insurance, etc., and was paid to do the job. Maybe I took your comment wrong, but it sounded rather critical of Ole’s intelligence. Besides that, it would have been nice if your safety expert husband would have asked permission to use that picture as part of his gallery considering it’s part of his business.
Life with Lucy continues to be exciting. I’m dogger sitting this weekend as Ole, Lovely Daughter and Lars are all in Minneapolis attending the Annual Back to the 50s Weekend at the State Fair Grounds. Lucy was out with me yesterday afternoon when I was working in my flowerbeds, sticking quite close, rubbing up against me and chattering to me as she sat in the dirt watching me work. Beau and Daisy were lying out in front of the garage waiting diligently for Ole to come home. Suddenly, around the corner came Beau, saw that Lucy was outside and decided it was time to play Chase the Cat. Lucy, being afraid of dogs in the first place, took off running but unfortunately Beau caught her by the hindquarters. She screamed in terror, I yelled at Beau, who dropped her and came slinking back and lay down on the ground in front of me. Lucy managed to keep going and ran up a tree somewhere down by the river.
The most humiliating discipline that either of the dogs can receive is to be swatted across the behind with one of Ole’s caps, which I promptly did. Beau got about four hard swats and decided that he was going to growl and snap at me. I knew I couldn’t back down or he would win and then think he ran the show. NOT AT MY HOUSE! So he got four more swats and he growled and snapped again. So he got four more swats, this time across the nose. And I won – he gave in and cowered on the ground. I promptly took him in the house and made him sit by the door in the back hallway for the remainder of the afternoon. There will be no kitty chasing of any kind at my house.
Daisy is such an easy-going dog. She minds so well and does what she’s told. Beau, on the other hand, being a boy dog is much more stubborn and thinks that rules are made for everyone else but him. As a result he always has to be told two or three times before he’ll mind. When you’ve got big dogs you HAVE to be in control at all times. Beau has been quite meek and mild and minded quickly since that scenario.
Lucy finally came back to the house last night about dark, none the worse for wear fortunately. I think it will be a long time before she goes outside again. Poor little thing.
Her week’s worth of regular meals is beginning to show. There seems to be a bit of meat on her little ribs and her backbone doesn’t stick out quite so far. Big Brother emailed me this morning and asked me to take her in for shots. It’s his intention to take her home with him this fall when he comes to visit. That was my intention also, as I truly don’t need another cat, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to let her go by that time.
I had best sign off for now. I’ve got work to do and I have to go give Lucy a cuddle.
Love Lena
“Sorry but my husband is a safety expert and that photo just became part of his photo gallery of how to kill or mame yourself quickly and easily.Connie”
Sorry to have offended your senses, Connie, but the method used in taking down that tree was not Ole’s idea – he’s a bit smarter than that. Bulletproof Man is in the business of taking down trees and that’s the method that HE chose. He carries his own insurance, etc., and was paid to do the job. Maybe I took your comment wrong, but it sounded rather critical of Ole’s intelligence. Besides that, it would have been nice if your safety expert husband would have asked permission to use that picture as part of his gallery considering it’s part of his business.
Life with Lucy continues to be exciting. I’m dogger sitting this weekend as Ole, Lovely Daughter and Lars are all in Minneapolis attending the Annual Back to the 50s Weekend at the State Fair Grounds. Lucy was out with me yesterday afternoon when I was working in my flowerbeds, sticking quite close, rubbing up against me and chattering to me as she sat in the dirt watching me work. Beau and Daisy were lying out in front of the garage waiting diligently for Ole to come home. Suddenly, around the corner came Beau, saw that Lucy was outside and decided it was time to play Chase the Cat. Lucy, being afraid of dogs in the first place, took off running but unfortunately Beau caught her by the hindquarters. She screamed in terror, I yelled at Beau, who dropped her and came slinking back and lay down on the ground in front of me. Lucy managed to keep going and ran up a tree somewhere down by the river.
The most humiliating discipline that either of the dogs can receive is to be swatted across the behind with one of Ole’s caps, which I promptly did. Beau got about four hard swats and decided that he was going to growl and snap at me. I knew I couldn’t back down or he would win and then think he ran the show. NOT AT MY HOUSE! So he got four more swats and he growled and snapped again. So he got four more swats, this time across the nose. And I won – he gave in and cowered on the ground. I promptly took him in the house and made him sit by the door in the back hallway for the remainder of the afternoon. There will be no kitty chasing of any kind at my house.
Daisy is such an easy-going dog. She minds so well and does what she’s told. Beau, on the other hand, being a boy dog is much more stubborn and thinks that rules are made for everyone else but him. As a result he always has to be told two or three times before he’ll mind. When you’ve got big dogs you HAVE to be in control at all times. Beau has been quite meek and mild and minded quickly since that scenario.
Lucy finally came back to the house last night about dark, none the worse for wear fortunately. I think it will be a long time before she goes outside again. Poor little thing.
Her week’s worth of regular meals is beginning to show. There seems to be a bit of meat on her little ribs and her backbone doesn’t stick out quite so far. Big Brother emailed me this morning and asked me to take her in for shots. It’s his intention to take her home with him this fall when he comes to visit. That was my intention also, as I truly don’t need another cat, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to let her go by that time.
I had best sign off for now. I’ve got work to do and I have to go give Lucy a cuddle.
Love Lena
Thursday, June 19, 2008
I Love Lucy
Good grief, Charlie Brown - where has the last week gone. I haven't posted anything since last Thursday. And I bet you've all been wondering/worrying about me too, right? Well, never fear - I've been busy.
First of all, we have a new little resident at our house. Her name is Lucy.
This picture doesn't do justice to the bright blue eyes that she has.
She came wandering up to the deck one evening when we were all sitting around the fire pit. She was very tentative and needed a lot of encouragement, but Lovely Daughter finally got ahold of her. She was skin and bone - you could see every rib and her backbone stuck out. Poor little thing was so hungry. I suppose someone dumped her off. What usually happens is the poor dumped animals find a haven in our storage building to get out of the weather and eventually due to loneliness make their way up to the house to find some human companionship. That's how Senior Citizen Simon arrived about 12 years ago.
My guess is that she's only about six months old - just a baby yet. She's very loving and appreciative of anything you do for her. For the first few days I fed her in the screen room and put an old blanket in a chair for her to sleep in. She snarfed her food down so fast I thought for sure it was all going to come back up. I don't think she slept in the screen room at all, because every time I would see her outside she was coming from the river in a heavily wooded area. She always had muddy feet from being on the river bank and her fur was full of leaves and seeds. I'm surmising that she was living in some brush pile or a hollow tree or something down there.
I eventually allowed her in the house and she very tentatively went through the patio door and investigated the entire house then wanted out again. Senior Citizen Simon was very much a gentleman, touched noses with her and then followed her around from a distance. It was like he just wanted to make sure she didn't get herself into any trouble of any kind. The first couple of evenings that she spent in the house, but along about midnight she always went to the door and wanted out. It was like she just wasn't sure about being in the house. Like her escape route had been shut off. Last night was the first night she spent the entire night in the house. When she got up she wanted out immediately and went to the screen room to find HER food bowl. She absolutely will not eat out of Simon's bowl and he's very willing to share. I've even tried to feed her from a separate bowl in a different area of the kitchen but she prefers to eat in the screen room by herself.
There's already five cats on this property. Lovely Daughter has four and I have one, so I'd really like to find a good home for her. Big Brother is coming to visit in September and would like to have her, but that means I have to keep her until then. I'm afraid if I do that I probably won't be able to give her up. She's already wormed her way far to deeply into my heart. I'm such a sucker for animals that haven't been treated properly. I guess we'll see what happens. As of this moment Lucy is tucked deeply into a wooly afghan on my bed, sound asleep.
The YaYa's met again yesterday. Our group is growing. It started way last fall with three of us and now we're up to seven. One of the gals drove all the way across the state to get together - and we do have fun.
First of all, we have a new little resident at our house. Her name is Lucy.
This picture doesn't do justice to the bright blue eyes that she has.
She came wandering up to the deck one evening when we were all sitting around the fire pit. She was very tentative and needed a lot of encouragement, but Lovely Daughter finally got ahold of her. She was skin and bone - you could see every rib and her backbone stuck out. Poor little thing was so hungry. I suppose someone dumped her off. What usually happens is the poor dumped animals find a haven in our storage building to get out of the weather and eventually due to loneliness make their way up to the house to find some human companionship. That's how Senior Citizen Simon arrived about 12 years ago.
My guess is that she's only about six months old - just a baby yet. She's very loving and appreciative of anything you do for her. For the first few days I fed her in the screen room and put an old blanket in a chair for her to sleep in. She snarfed her food down so fast I thought for sure it was all going to come back up. I don't think she slept in the screen room at all, because every time I would see her outside she was coming from the river in a heavily wooded area. She always had muddy feet from being on the river bank and her fur was full of leaves and seeds. I'm surmising that she was living in some brush pile or a hollow tree or something down there.
I eventually allowed her in the house and she very tentatively went through the patio door and investigated the entire house then wanted out again. Senior Citizen Simon was very much a gentleman, touched noses with her and then followed her around from a distance. It was like he just wanted to make sure she didn't get herself into any trouble of any kind. The first couple of evenings that she spent in the house, but along about midnight she always went to the door and wanted out. It was like she just wasn't sure about being in the house. Like her escape route had been shut off. Last night was the first night she spent the entire night in the house. When she got up she wanted out immediately and went to the screen room to find HER food bowl. She absolutely will not eat out of Simon's bowl and he's very willing to share. I've even tried to feed her from a separate bowl in a different area of the kitchen but she prefers to eat in the screen room by herself.
There's already five cats on this property. Lovely Daughter has four and I have one, so I'd really like to find a good home for her. Big Brother is coming to visit in September and would like to have her, but that means I have to keep her until then. I'm afraid if I do that I probably won't be able to give her up. She's already wormed her way far to deeply into my heart. I'm such a sucker for animals that haven't been treated properly. I guess we'll see what happens. As of this moment Lucy is tucked deeply into a wooly afghan on my bed, sound asleep.
The YaYa's met again yesterday. Our group is growing. It started way last fall with three of us and now we're up to seven. One of the gals drove all the way across the state to get together - and we do have fun.
We're tossing around some fun ideas - like a 50 year reunion for our 6th grade class. So far we haven't gotten the guys from the 6th grade involved yet, but they all live within an easy driving distance, so it certainly would be possible.
One of the gals who hasn't been able to join us yet runs a restaurant in a little town about 50 miles from here. So yesterday we decided if she can't come to our gathering we'll bring the gathering to her. We'll all hop into the YaYa Mobile and make an afternoon of it. Drop in on her for lunch and a bit of chatting.
We're all big into gardening also with the exception of one gal who lives in an apartment. So we decided we're going to have a garden tour and go to everyone's house. The gal in the apartment says she has a big flower pot on her deck so we'll go to see that too. Anyway, we'll end up at my house, Ole can cook us some burgers on the grill and we'll have a fire in the firepit that night - even if it's warm it will at least chase away the bugs.
We had to take a large tree down in our backyard. It had so many weak branches, and with the storms we've been having lately we were afraid it would come down on the house. And having just replaced the roof, I don't think our insurance company would appreciate having a tree come through. So down it came. The young man who helped Ole take it down was 19 years old (bullet proof at that age, you know) and was like a monkey with a chainsaw. He climbed in the bucket of the tractor and just stood there hanging onto nothing while Ole raised the bucket. And there he stood - stretching out with this running chain saw in his hands to reach the lowest branches and cut them down. My insides were tied in knots the whole time he was up there.
Then the main trunk came down. The tree was approximately 75 feet tall, so it made quite a crash when it hit the ground. I had my very own Axemen that day. 
Well, guys, suppose I better go accomplish something.
Later, okay?
Lena
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Pickled Javelina Feet??
Don’t you sometimes wonder how some people’s brains work? Where do their ideas come from? Their creativity?
My Internet provider has a filter system that keeps all the junk mail and viruses from reaching my computer. Periodically I’m directed to their site to check out the spam mail box and the virus mail box to see if they caught anything they shouldn’t have. As I was checking through things this morning I took notice of some of the email addresses. They really made me wonder. Here’s a sampling:
jimmyinelastic@
ferdinandsexoticboner@
dagmarshooters@
sallyscrumptious@
randyscreepycox@
Hmmm. I’m not going to say another word – I’ll just leave all that to your imagination.
Say, I want to comment on what a wonderful job all thehead honchos organizers of the Great Javelina Hunt are doing. If you haven’t checked out their pages, please go over there and do so. Sounds like there will be lots going on to keep us all informed and entertained throughout the weekend. And if you haven't made plans to go, you really should because you'll be missing not only a lot of fun, but a great education in blogging. Rosie, Ole’s wondering if he can go along on the great javelina hunt – just in case there’s a javelina that decides to get rowdy he wants to be available to protect us all as he says he’ll be ‘packin’. (That’s a joke here, People, a joke. He wouldn’t shoot a cute little javelina!)
I guess there is a difference between a javelina and a wild pig, huh? Big Brother lives in New Mexico in an area where there are quite a few wild pigs/boars. A couple of years ago his neighbor was outside in the evening checking out some strange noises that she had heard. She located the strange noises, all right. They were emanating (neener) from her backyard where she found a big boar rooting around in her garden. She turned to run back to her house with the pig after her. He caught the back of her leg with his tusk and ripped it open. She made it into the house and managed to call 911 and the neighbor who came over with a large rifle, but by the time he got there with the gun the pig was gone. This guy was definitely not cute little Porky Pig.
Now I know I’ve talked in the past about eating some strange things – not necessarily me, but strange things that have been eaten by my family or folks I know. Of course there’s the well-known lutefisk fiasco. My mother used to make both blood bread and blood sausage (put a clothes pin on your nose as it smells as bad as lutefisk.) Then there was headcheese. Read about it – it’s disgusting. In Iceland we were offered sheep's head, which had all the wool singed off it,
My Internet provider has a filter system that keeps all the junk mail and viruses from reaching my computer. Periodically I’m directed to their site to check out the spam mail box and the virus mail box to see if they caught anything they shouldn’t have. As I was checking through things this morning I took notice of some of the email addresses. They really made me wonder. Here’s a sampling:
jimmyinelastic@
ferdinandsexoticboner@
dagmarshooters@
sallyscrumptious@
randyscreepycox@
Hmmm. I’m not going to say another word – I’ll just leave all that to your imagination.
Say, I want to comment on what a wonderful job all the
I guess there is a difference between a javelina and a wild pig, huh? Big Brother lives in New Mexico in an area where there are quite a few wild pigs/boars. A couple of years ago his neighbor was outside in the evening checking out some strange noises that she had heard. She located the strange noises, all right. They were emanating (neener) from her backyard where she found a big boar rooting around in her garden. She turned to run back to her house with the pig after her. He caught the back of her leg with his tusk and ripped it open. She made it into the house and managed to call 911 and the neighbor who came over with a large rifle, but by the time he got there with the gun the pig was gone. This guy was definitely not cute little Porky Pig.
Now I know I’ve talked in the past about eating some strange things – not necessarily me, but strange things that have been eaten by my family or folks I know. Of course there’s the well-known lutefisk fiasco. My mother used to make both blood bread and blood sausage (put a clothes pin on your nose as it smells as bad as lutefisk.) Then there was headcheese. Read about it – it’s disgusting. In Iceland we were offered sheep's head, which had all the wool singed off it,
fermented shark, which was cut into slabs, burried at the high tide mark for 6 weeks, then dug up and eaten,
and large slabs of whale meat. This looked like a huge chunk of beef, although much grainier with absolutely no fat.
There’s also pickled eggs (put a cork in the backside of anyone who eats those), pickled herring, pickled beets and pickled pigs feet. My father always thought they were a great delicacy. He would sit by the table and eat them as a bedtime snack. Can you imagine?
Now maybe the Javelina Crew has ulterior motives planning this hunt. Maybe Chef Art is going to prepare some great delicacy for us. Just don't put too many hot peppers in mine, okay, Art? My spice cabinet consists of salt, pepper and ketchup. This could end up bein' a lot for a Meat & Potatoes ScandiHOOvian girl to swallow. Just sayin' is all.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Happy IVGLDSW Day!!
I got this in an e-mail from one of the YaYa’s this morning and I wanted to share it with all of you. It says it’s for women, but I certainly don’t want to be sexist, so I’ll share with everyone – men included. Today is International Very Good Looking, Damn Smart Woman's Day. Remember this motto and live by it:
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand,wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming 'WOO HOO what a ride!’
I’m workin’ on it, Folks, how about you? I’ve got my chocolate in one hand, but I don’t do beer or wine so I’ll have to find a substitute for that, the ole’ bod’ is beginning to show signs of wear and tear, and I have been known to yell “WOO HOO” on more than one occasion.
Speaking of wine and those of you that I know are winos wine aficionados, Ole plans to bring a few bottles of his homemade wine along to the Great Javelina Hunt. (Don’t worry – it definitely won’t be a drunkfest .) He’s got his own label and everything – The Barefoot Winery, from the Valley of the Buffalo River. He wants all you wine lovers who might want to taste it to know that he always wears socks when he stomps on the grapes, so everything is totally sanitary. Besides that he’s been a blue ribbon winner at the county fair now for several years in a row. He doesn’t share his homemade wine with just ANYBODY, you know. You have to be very special people to be awarded that pleasure.
His homemade wine goes really good with a sheet of lefse smeared with butter and sugar or a few lingonberries. You non-ScandiHOOvians just don’t know what you’ve been missing all your life.
Speaking of non-ScandiHOOvians – I have some very special events planned for some of you. You can actually become honorary ScandiHOOvians at some point during the Javelina Hunt. What greater honor could you possibly want. There will be a very short course at the Uff Da University and you’ll get a diploma and everything!! How about that!!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Three Cheers for the YaYa Mobile
I really should be outside running this huge magnet with wheels over the lawn and driveway to pick up all the nails and staples that have come flying off the roof while the roofing project was happening. I really should be out doing that while it’s not raining and before we get the heavy rains that are forecast for tomorrow. Ole is up on the roof all by himself finishing up some odds and ends making sure everything is sealed down and waterproof. He finished up the first half of the garage last night at 10:30 p.m. using a big construction light that he has. It’s so bright I’m sure you could see it from outer space – you know – just like the Luxor in Las Vegas. We’ve got the front half of the garage to go yet, but because of the forecast for tomorrow he’s going to leave it all intact and wait for a sunny day when he won’t have to fight the weather.
We have a tragedy in our midst, Bloggers. If you’ve been reading KitchenLogic2.0 for the last couple of months, you know that she’s had some issues in her family that are going to prevent her from going to the Great Javelina Hunt in October. I’m going to miss her dreadfully because we would have been two Minnesota-sisters-in-arms. We would have been excellent examples of what folks from the Far Nort’land are like. (She’s Norwegian, too, ya know.) But now I’m going to have to wing it on my own. That’s a heavy load to carry, but I’ll do my best.
So Ole and I were brainstorming the other night – that gets dangerous around this house. Just to let everyone know how generous Ole truly is he made this proposal: We plan on loading Ole’s little 1929 Model A that’s been street-rodded, onto a trailer, along with the Harley, and pull it behind the RV. Now Ole has a very strict philosophy about our motor home. It party’s 12, feeds 6, but only sleeps 2. Period. But Ole said that K-Lo could ride in the Model A on the trailer – all the way down to Tombstone – free – no fuel to buy – but ONLY if she promises to make motor noises when we’re on the road.
We have a tragedy in our midst, Bloggers. If you’ve been reading KitchenLogic2.0 for the last couple of months, you know that she’s had some issues in her family that are going to prevent her from going to the Great Javelina Hunt in October. I’m going to miss her dreadfully because we would have been two Minnesota-sisters-in-arms. We would have been excellent examples of what folks from the Far Nort’land are like. (She’s Norwegian, too, ya know.) But now I’m going to have to wing it on my own. That’s a heavy load to carry, but I’ll do my best.
So Ole and I were brainstorming the other night – that gets dangerous around this house. Just to let everyone know how generous Ole truly is he made this proposal: We plan on loading Ole’s little 1929 Model A that’s been street-rodded, onto a trailer, along with the Harley, and pull it behind the RV. Now Ole has a very strict philosophy about our motor home. It party’s 12, feeds 6, but only sleeps 2. Period. But Ole said that K-Lo could ride in the Model A on the trailer – all the way down to Tombstone – free – no fuel to buy – but ONLY if she promises to make motor noises when we’re on the road.
Just kidding, K-Lo. We’d love to have you come along – even inside the RV – but I know your circumstances and understand. We all yust need a little laugh even when things are on the bleak side. But isn’t that a cute word picture? Can’t you just see K-Lo riding in the Model A that’s on the trailer, windows rolled down, wind blowing through her hair, steering that steering wheel back and forth and making motor noises going down the interstate? Come on – you know it’s funny.
I’ve told you many times about the YaYa Sisters – the gals that went to school together from 1st through 12th grade and now get together periodically and laugh and have lots of fun? Well, one of the gals was in need of a car – just something to tool around town in when she’s running errands. She wanted something economical – hubby wanted something that she would be safe in. He bought her a 1965 Cadillac Deville convertible. It’s a hoot. We’re calling it the YaYa Mobile and we’re going to have a magnetic sign made up stating that. Our first road trip will be to a small town about 60 miles from here where one of our old high school friends owns a restaurant. We’ll have to pick a nice day so we can put the top down and wear scarves that blow in the wind just like the real YaYa’s did. We’re having SO much fun. I guess there are some positives about growing
The YaYa Mobile - isn't it cute?
Well, I guess I better get my butt outside
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
A DOUBLE NEENER ENTRY
A Double Neener is about all any Swede is capable of.
Okay – it’s official – the reservation for the Great Javelina Hunt has been secured.
You see, we aren’t too concerned about a shortage of hotel/motel rooms because we travel like turtles and bring our house along with us. I made reservations for our rig and Big Brother’s rig out at the Tombstone RV Park and Resort, just north of town a stone’s throw. We’re bringing both a car and the Harley so Ole can play taxi for me as I come and go to the various events. And Big Brother will come along to help keep Ole out of mischief while I’m busy with the Javelina Hunters. I think that’s pretty well planned out, don’t you?
I’ve printed off the Javelina Hunt registration form, will write a check and get that in the mail to the appropriate folks within the next couple of days. Javelina Hunters look out – here we come!!
After The Hunt our plan is to wander around the southwest for a while, possibly spending some time on the beaches of Puerto Penasco (Rocky Point) in Mexico, visiting long time friends in Lake Havasu City, AZ, and definitely wending (neener) our way to Las Vegas where my nephew lives. We just may not come back north until the following spring because we haven’t traveled for the last two winters.
Anyway, by that time we should be good and bankrupt with the price of diesel doing what it’s doing.
Maybe I’ll have to have Ole and Big Brother set up shop on a street corner in Tombstone with a tin cup, asking for contributions to fill the tank of the RV. That would certainly keep them out of mischief, huh.
Let’s see. What else.
I spoiled myself today. I had a pedicure. It was so nice and relaxing that when I got home I had to take a nap. Senior Citizen Simon didn’t mind that at all. He noogied (neener) right down in the fluffy blanket I was relaxing under, rolled over on his back asking to have his belly rubbed, and snored up a storm. Sometimes he even drools, but you can expect that from any old man, can’t you?
Ole’s been quite frustrated today. It started raining last night and hasn’t stopped all day. That doesn’t make for good roofing weather for a garage that’s half stripped of its shingles. It did stop about an hour ago so leave it to Ole to be creative. He climbed up on the roof with the leaf blower and dried the tarpaper that way. I hear the thump of the airnailer now so he must be back in business.
Oh yes, by the way, all Javelina Hunters will be welcome to stop by our campsite for a visit if you would like to meet Ole. I know he’s got some paparazzi out there. You’ll be able to tell which rig is ours because Ole will be sitting out front wearing his Vikings helmet and munching on lefse. No lutefisk though. I promise I won’t pollute the clean, clear Arizona air. And then, as I was making our reservation online this morning, the thought came to mind about what kind of clothes should I bring along for the Javelina Hunt. What does one wear when hunting javelinas? I mean, other than carrying a wash cloth to wipe one’s arm down after the sticky puffy marshmallows have dripped all over, does the javelina have a preference? Well, I think I’ve solved that problem – here’s part of my wardrobe.
You see, we aren’t too concerned about a shortage of hotel/motel rooms because we travel like turtles and bring our house along with us. I made reservations for our rig and Big Brother’s rig out at the Tombstone RV Park and Resort, just north of town a stone’s throw. We’re bringing both a car and the Harley so Ole can play taxi for me as I come and go to the various events. And Big Brother will come along to help keep Ole out of mischief while I’m busy with the Javelina Hunters. I think that’s pretty well planned out, don’t you?
I’ve printed off the Javelina Hunt registration form, will write a check and get that in the mail to the appropriate folks within the next couple of days. Javelina Hunters look out – here we come!!
After The Hunt our plan is to wander around the southwest for a while, possibly spending some time on the beaches of Puerto Penasco (Rocky Point) in Mexico, visiting long time friends in Lake Havasu City, AZ, and definitely wending (neener) our way to Las Vegas where my nephew lives. We just may not come back north until the following spring because we haven’t traveled for the last two winters.
Anyway, by that time we should be good and bankrupt with the price of diesel doing what it’s doing.
Maybe I’ll have to have Ole and Big Brother set up shop on a street corner in Tombstone with a tin cup, asking for contributions to fill the tank of the RV. That would certainly keep them out of mischief, huh.
Let’s see. What else.
I spoiled myself today. I had a pedicure. It was so nice and relaxing that when I got home I had to take a nap. Senior Citizen Simon didn’t mind that at all. He noogied (neener) right down in the fluffy blanket I was relaxing under, rolled over on his back asking to have his belly rubbed, and snored up a storm. Sometimes he even drools, but you can expect that from any old man, can’t you?
Ole’s been quite frustrated today. It started raining last night and hasn’t stopped all day. That doesn’t make for good roofing weather for a garage that’s half stripped of its shingles. It did stop about an hour ago so leave it to Ole to be creative. He climbed up on the roof with the leaf blower and dried the tarpaper that way. I hear the thump of the airnailer now so he must be back in business.
Oh yes, by the way, all Javelina Hunters will be welcome to stop by our campsite for a visit if you would like to meet Ole. I know he’s got some paparazzi out there. You’ll be able to tell which rig is ours because Ole will be sitting out front wearing his Vikings helmet and munching on lefse. No lutefisk though. I promise I won’t pollute the clean, clear Arizona air. And then, as I was making our reservation online this morning, the thought came to mind about what kind of clothes should I bring along for the Javelina Hunt. What does one wear when hunting javelinas? I mean, other than carrying a wash cloth to wipe one’s arm down after the sticky puffy marshmallows have dripped all over, does the javelina have a preference? Well, I think I’ve solved that problem – here’s part of my wardrobe.
I think I'll bring along Ole's Red Ryder BB gun with the compass in the stock.Monday, June 2, 2008
How NOT to Start Your Monday Morning
How NOT to start your Monday: Head out the back door intending to go to the garage fridge to grab a diet coke (I don’t do coffee). Just as you reach for the door handle your left foot lands in something soft and squishy. Pick it up instantly and say, “Oh yuck,” and put your right foot down which also lands in something bigger that’s soft and squishy. Say, “Oh, shit,” in a louder voice and before you place your left foot back on the floor you look to see what you’ve gotten into.
Hairballs and all that go with them!!
And there, out on the back step, looking lovingly up at you is Senior Citizen Simon, depositor of said hairballs on the rug inside the back door. He must have puked, decided to vacate the premises so he wouldn’t be blamed, run downstairs through all the flippy cat doors and outside. Why complete your job OUTside when you can do it INside!! Oh well, a good shake and another load of laundry will make everything right – right?
Ole, Lovely Daughter and Lars are all having a hard time wiggling this morning. I don’t know about Dick, Ted or Scott as I didn’t witness their attempts to wiggle (ugly word picture, huh?) All this after a marathon-roofing project this weekend. All the shingles are replaced on the house, one side of the garage is stripped and tarpapered, and the other side has yet to be done. And of course the forecast is for rain off and on for the entire week. As cool a spring as we’ve had so far, wouldn’t you know that this weekend, the weekend Ole chose to do the shingling was the hottest so far this year. It was in the mid 80s with high humidity. I couldn’t keep enough cold water on hand to keep these guys going as they were sweating it out faster than they could consume.
I will be so glad when the job is done and the mess is cleaned up. Then we’ve got to go over the yard and driveway with a BIG magnet that Dick has to pick up all the staples and nails to avoid any flat tires.
I played gopher for this project. You know – go fer this and go fer that? But that’s okay. I’d rather do that than be up on the roof. Somebody had to be on the ground goferring to the fridge and throwing water bottles up on the roof. I even hit Scott in the head once – sorry Scott. But at least I got it up on the roof, right?
Anyway, one of the things I had to do was run to town for forgotten parts, or things they didn’t know they were going to need. One of these things was a 3-inch roof vent cap. After Ole explained to me what it was used for, I knew pretty much what I was looking for. You can’t be married to Ole for 41 years and not know about construction stuff. Anyway, just to make sure the Big Construction Supply Store had it in stock (duh), Scott called the store to verify. He got the name of the young man he talked to in Building Supplies (Brian) who knew that I would be coming within 15 minutes to pick this piece up. Now this is a new Big Construction Supply Store (from here on known as BCSS) that has just opened up close to us, a subsidiary of another one just across the river in the sister city. The interior of the store covers about 7 acres (so they advertise) and it’s only been open about 3 months, so I’ll give the sales clerks some slack that they may not know all their inventory yet.
So I trot into the store and head for the building supply department and ask for Brian.
“Who?”
“Brian.”
“There’s no Brian here. Oh, yeah, he went on break. Can I help you?”
“Okay. I need a 3” roof vent cap.”
“A what?”
“A 3” roof vent cap.”
“Oh, that’s not in this department. That’s over in plumbing. I’ll take you over there.”
So I follow young clerk 1, (that you could tell was really green) over to the plumbing department where he looks and looks and looks and doesn’t have the foggiest idea of what he’s looking for.
“Just a minute, Lady, I’m going to find the guy in charge of this department.”
“Okay.”
I can see young sales clerk wandering up and down various aisles looking for a coworker but not finding one. Finally sales clerk 2 walks by and I snag him, tell him what I’m looking for and he says, “They’re not in this department, they’re over in heating. I’ll take you over there.”
First of all, the building supply department is in one corner of the store. The plumbing department was in the opposite corner of the store, and now we’re going to the heating department, which is in a third corner of the store. All of this in a store that covers 7 acres, and I’ve got a knee that is flaring up saying “Don’t be doin’ this stuff – don’t be walkin’ this far on all this concrete flooring.”
We got to the heating department where clerk 3 and clerk 4 were standing around bullshitting, leaning up against the shelves. Clerk 2 tells them what I’m looking for and clerk 3 pulls one off the shelf and dumps it into my cart. BUT – I knew that wasn’t what I was looking for. What I wanted had nothing to do with heating; it had to do with venting your sewer stack off the roof. I told him politely that wasn’t what I needed, and explained to him what I did need.
“Oh, that’s over in plumbing.” (which is 18 miles away over in the other corner of the store.)
By this time, I’m losing my cool and my knee is screaming at me saying, “We’re bone on bone here – don’t do this.”
But I headed out across the tundra, following clerks 1, 2, 3 and 4, none of whom knew their backside from a hole in the ground, when I just couldn’t help myself and said, “You know, Guys, I’ve been across this store three times and I still don’t have what I need,” when clerk 3 turns to me, puts his hands on his hips and sarcastically says, “Well, Sooorrrryy – but we have SO MANY different kinds of stacks that unless you explain yourself thoroughly we have no way of knowing just what it is you want.” Clerk 3 was an arrogant little shit about 22 years old named Billy who thought his you-know-what didn’t stink. And I was about to tell him so when I thought better of it and just decided to get the piece I needed and get the hell out of Dodge.
Now it was obvious that Billy was in charge of teaching the newbies, clerks 1, 2 and 4, the ropes. What he was teaching them was how to destroy customer relations and send them somewhere else.
For all you Billies out there, what your teaching the newbies, and what they will eventually find out is, “I am the customer. I am the reason you have this job. You treat me badly and I will go away. And if I go away you will eventually not have a job.”
BCSS’s first faux paux was when they were supposed to deliver the shingles to the roof on Thursday between 1:00 and 4:00 p.m. Dick even took time off from work to come out and help Ole offload the shingles from the crane device that they use to get them to the roof. This was just over a $4000 order – not exactly what I would call chicken feed. So here sat Dick and Ole waiting for the shingles. Four o’clock came – no shingles. Five o’clock – no shingles. Finally Ole called the delivery desk and the young man claimed they hadn’t set a time for delivery. Only that they would be delivered on Thursday SOMETIME. Funny thing – Ole had it written on the paperwork (a photocopy of the young man’s handwriting) they were scheduled for 1-4 p.m. on Thursday Then it started to rain and after many phone calls back and forth between the delivery desk, the truck driver who was supposed to deliver the shingles and Ole, the truck driver called at 6:30 p.m. and said he wasn’t going to deliver shingles in the rain. What? What’s the difference – shingles are going to get wet eventually when they’re on your roof anyway. And it wasn’t doing more than just sprinkling.
Back to the delivery desk:
“Okay, when can you deliver the shingles? Tomorrow morning?” (Meaning Friday morning.)
“No, our schedule is all booked for Friday. MAYBE after everyone else is delivered we could run them out – say – after 6:00 p.m.”
“Uh – no – I think you better put us ahead of your scheduled deliveries for Friday.”
“We can’t do that sir. I can send them out after 6 only if the driver is willing to work overtime. Otherwise it will be next week sometime.”
And Ole didn’t explode here – good thing I wasn’t on the phone. Ole just gritted his teeth and said thank you. I’ll call you back when I decide what I want done. Ole went into BCSS on Friday morning and after much negotiating and discussing the issue with the manager he got them delivered Friday afternoon – only about 28 hours after they were SUPPOSED to be here. Ole’s aim was to start shingling on Friday morning instead of Saturday morning. If that had actually happened we could have been done with the project by Sunday evening instead of still having the garage left with rain in the forecast for everyday this week.
BCSS, as I said, has only been open in this location a few months, but Ole and I have had three major episodes of poor or nonexistent customer service in dealing with them already. Lovely Daughter and Lars have had several also. So once this roofing job is over with I doubt that they will get anymore of our business. We’ll go back to their sister store across the river even though it is farther away, where we can be treated like people, not a pain in the neck, and when they say they’re going to deliver, they deliver.
I’ve been making notes and will write the manager of the new store a letter stating situations, dates, and names. Will anything come of it? I doubt it, but at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that I said something. After all, it’s management that allows this kind of behavior – shit rolls downhill, you know.
As I get older I get bitchier and refuse to take the shit that a lot of people dish out.
Customer service is virtually nonexistent anymore – and that’s a sad thing.
Hairballs and all that go with them!!
And there, out on the back step, looking lovingly up at you is Senior Citizen Simon, depositor of said hairballs on the rug inside the back door. He must have puked, decided to vacate the premises so he wouldn’t be blamed, run downstairs through all the flippy cat doors and outside. Why complete your job OUTside when you can do it INside!! Oh well, a good shake and another load of laundry will make everything right – right?
Ole, Lovely Daughter and Lars are all having a hard time wiggling this morning. I don’t know about Dick, Ted or Scott as I didn’t witness their attempts to wiggle (ugly word picture, huh?) All this after a marathon-roofing project this weekend. All the shingles are replaced on the house, one side of the garage is stripped and tarpapered, and the other side has yet to be done. And of course the forecast is for rain off and on for the entire week. As cool a spring as we’ve had so far, wouldn’t you know that this weekend, the weekend Ole chose to do the shingling was the hottest so far this year. It was in the mid 80s with high humidity. I couldn’t keep enough cold water on hand to keep these guys going as they were sweating it out faster than they could consume.
I will be so glad when the job is done and the mess is cleaned up. Then we’ve got to go over the yard and driveway with a BIG magnet that Dick has to pick up all the staples and nails to avoid any flat tires.
I played gopher for this project. You know – go fer this and go fer that? But that’s okay. I’d rather do that than be up on the roof. Somebody had to be on the ground goferring to the fridge and throwing water bottles up on the roof. I even hit Scott in the head once – sorry Scott. But at least I got it up on the roof, right?
Anyway, one of the things I had to do was run to town for forgotten parts, or things they didn’t know they were going to need. One of these things was a 3-inch roof vent cap. After Ole explained to me what it was used for, I knew pretty much what I was looking for. You can’t be married to Ole for 41 years and not know about construction stuff. Anyway, just to make sure the Big Construction Supply Store had it in stock (duh), Scott called the store to verify. He got the name of the young man he talked to in Building Supplies (Brian) who knew that I would be coming within 15 minutes to pick this piece up. Now this is a new Big Construction Supply Store (from here on known as BCSS) that has just opened up close to us, a subsidiary of another one just across the river in the sister city. The interior of the store covers about 7 acres (so they advertise) and it’s only been open about 3 months, so I’ll give the sales clerks some slack that they may not know all their inventory yet.
So I trot into the store and head for the building supply department and ask for Brian.
“Who?”
“Brian.”
“There’s no Brian here. Oh, yeah, he went on break. Can I help you?”
“Okay. I need a 3” roof vent cap.”
“A what?”
“A 3” roof vent cap.”
“Oh, that’s not in this department. That’s over in plumbing. I’ll take you over there.”
So I follow young clerk 1, (that you could tell was really green) over to the plumbing department where he looks and looks and looks and doesn’t have the foggiest idea of what he’s looking for.
“Just a minute, Lady, I’m going to find the guy in charge of this department.”
“Okay.”
I can see young sales clerk wandering up and down various aisles looking for a coworker but not finding one. Finally sales clerk 2 walks by and I snag him, tell him what I’m looking for and he says, “They’re not in this department, they’re over in heating. I’ll take you over there.”
First of all, the building supply department is in one corner of the store. The plumbing department was in the opposite corner of the store, and now we’re going to the heating department, which is in a third corner of the store. All of this in a store that covers 7 acres, and I’ve got a knee that is flaring up saying “Don’t be doin’ this stuff – don’t be walkin’ this far on all this concrete flooring.”
We got to the heating department where clerk 3 and clerk 4 were standing around bullshitting, leaning up against the shelves. Clerk 2 tells them what I’m looking for and clerk 3 pulls one off the shelf and dumps it into my cart. BUT – I knew that wasn’t what I was looking for. What I wanted had nothing to do with heating; it had to do with venting your sewer stack off the roof. I told him politely that wasn’t what I needed, and explained to him what I did need.
“Oh, that’s over in plumbing.” (which is 18 miles away over in the other corner of the store.)
By this time, I’m losing my cool and my knee is screaming at me saying, “We’re bone on bone here – don’t do this.”
But I headed out across the tundra, following clerks 1, 2, 3 and 4, none of whom knew their backside from a hole in the ground, when I just couldn’t help myself and said, “You know, Guys, I’ve been across this store three times and I still don’t have what I need,” when clerk 3 turns to me, puts his hands on his hips and sarcastically says, “Well, Sooorrrryy – but we have SO MANY different kinds of stacks that unless you explain yourself thoroughly we have no way of knowing just what it is you want.” Clerk 3 was an arrogant little shit about 22 years old named Billy who thought his you-know-what didn’t stink. And I was about to tell him so when I thought better of it and just decided to get the piece I needed and get the hell out of Dodge.
Now it was obvious that Billy was in charge of teaching the newbies, clerks 1, 2 and 4, the ropes. What he was teaching them was how to destroy customer relations and send them somewhere else.
For all you Billies out there, what your teaching the newbies, and what they will eventually find out is, “I am the customer. I am the reason you have this job. You treat me badly and I will go away. And if I go away you will eventually not have a job.”
BCSS’s first faux paux was when they were supposed to deliver the shingles to the roof on Thursday between 1:00 and 4:00 p.m. Dick even took time off from work to come out and help Ole offload the shingles from the crane device that they use to get them to the roof. This was just over a $4000 order – not exactly what I would call chicken feed. So here sat Dick and Ole waiting for the shingles. Four o’clock came – no shingles. Five o’clock – no shingles. Finally Ole called the delivery desk and the young man claimed they hadn’t set a time for delivery. Only that they would be delivered on Thursday SOMETIME. Funny thing – Ole had it written on the paperwork (a photocopy of the young man’s handwriting) they were scheduled for 1-4 p.m. on Thursday Then it started to rain and after many phone calls back and forth between the delivery desk, the truck driver who was supposed to deliver the shingles and Ole, the truck driver called at 6:30 p.m. and said he wasn’t going to deliver shingles in the rain. What? What’s the difference – shingles are going to get wet eventually when they’re on your roof anyway. And it wasn’t doing more than just sprinkling.
Back to the delivery desk:
“Okay, when can you deliver the shingles? Tomorrow morning?” (Meaning Friday morning.)
“No, our schedule is all booked for Friday. MAYBE after everyone else is delivered we could run them out – say – after 6:00 p.m.”
“Uh – no – I think you better put us ahead of your scheduled deliveries for Friday.”
“We can’t do that sir. I can send them out after 6 only if the driver is willing to work overtime. Otherwise it will be next week sometime.”
And Ole didn’t explode here – good thing I wasn’t on the phone. Ole just gritted his teeth and said thank you. I’ll call you back when I decide what I want done. Ole went into BCSS on Friday morning and after much negotiating and discussing the issue with the manager he got them delivered Friday afternoon – only about 28 hours after they were SUPPOSED to be here. Ole’s aim was to start shingling on Friday morning instead of Saturday morning. If that had actually happened we could have been done with the project by Sunday evening instead of still having the garage left with rain in the forecast for everyday this week.
BCSS, as I said, has only been open in this location a few months, but Ole and I have had three major episodes of poor or nonexistent customer service in dealing with them already. Lovely Daughter and Lars have had several also. So once this roofing job is over with I doubt that they will get anymore of our business. We’ll go back to their sister store across the river even though it is farther away, where we can be treated like people, not a pain in the neck, and when they say they’re going to deliver, they deliver.
I’ve been making notes and will write the manager of the new store a letter stating situations, dates, and names. Will anything come of it? I doubt it, but at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that I said something. After all, it’s management that allows this kind of behavior – shit rolls downhill, you know.
As I get older I get bitchier and refuse to take the shit that a lot of people dish out.
Customer service is virtually nonexistent anymore – and that’s a sad thing.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
How to end the war on Terrorists
Mornin' Folks - Ole here.
Lena's busy cooking in the kitchen and said she wouldn't have time for an entry today, so I'm just sneaking in here to put my two cents in. She's out there slaving over a hot stove cooking up a storm because we've got the threshing crew here today and they're going to be hungry. Well, actually it's the shingling crew. Dick, Ted, Scott, Lars, Lovely Daughter and I will be up on the roof ripping off all the old shingles and installing new ones.
Lena has told me that she rarely gets into anything political or religious on her blog - everybody has and is entitled to their own viewpoints and regardless of what you say you're never going to change someone else's - so she just leaves it alone. But - - I have some thoughts on how GW could end the war and come out smelling like a rose politically.
Here goes:
Send Service Vets over 60. I am over 60 and the Armed Forces think I'm too old to track down terrorists. You can't be older than 42 to join the military.
They've got the whole thing ass backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35.
For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old farts only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.
Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. My back hurts! I can't sleep, I'm tired and hungry. We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for awhile.
An 18 -year-old doesn't even like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee so what the hell. Besides, like I said, I'm tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical son-of-a-bitch.
If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser.
Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at, and we're used to soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling. (Uh-oh - here comes Lena with the rolling pin - Just kidding, Lena).
They could lighten up on the obstacle course, however. I've been in combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. I can hear the Drill Sgt. in the New army now, 'Get down and give me ... ER .. one.' Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I've never seen anyone out run a bullet.
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave and to start up a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn't figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head.
These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see right now is a couple of million pissed-off old farts with attitude and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them.
If nothing else, put us on border patrol...we will have it secured the first night!
And that's all I have to say about that.
It's been fun, Folks. Enjoy your day!
Ole
Lena's busy cooking in the kitchen and said she wouldn't have time for an entry today, so I'm just sneaking in here to put my two cents in. She's out there slaving over a hot stove cooking up a storm because we've got the threshing crew here today and they're going to be hungry. Well, actually it's the shingling crew. Dick, Ted, Scott, Lars, Lovely Daughter and I will be up on the roof ripping off all the old shingles and installing new ones.
Lena has told me that she rarely gets into anything political or religious on her blog - everybody has and is entitled to their own viewpoints and regardless of what you say you're never going to change someone else's - so she just leaves it alone. But - - I have some thoughts on how GW could end the war and come out smelling like a rose politically.
Here goes:
Send Service Vets over 60. I am over 60 and the Armed Forces think I'm too old to track down terrorists. You can't be older than 42 to join the military.
They've got the whole thing ass backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35.
For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old farts only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.
Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. My back hurts! I can't sleep, I'm tired and hungry. We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for awhile.
An 18 -year-old doesn't even like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee so what the hell. Besides, like I said, I'm tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical son-of-a-bitch.
If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser.
Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at, and we're used to soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling. (Uh-oh - here comes Lena with the rolling pin - Just kidding, Lena).
They could lighten up on the obstacle course, however. I've been in combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. I can hear the Drill Sgt. in the New army now, 'Get down and give me ... ER .. one.' Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I've never seen anyone out run a bullet.
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave and to start up a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn't figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head.
These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see right now is a couple of million pissed-off old farts with attitude and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them.
If nothing else, put us on border patrol...we will have it secured the first night!
And that's all I have to say about that.
It's been fun, Folks. Enjoy your day!
Ole
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Tweaking Mrs. OCD
Okay, Folks. I know your chomping at the bit to find out how Jane acted at our potluck and bonfire on Sunday evening.
Just as I expected.
Dick and Jane arrived with their daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter and daughter’s 3-month old puppy, none of whom were invited. She arrived with a very sour expression on her face and the only people that she spoke to all evening were her immediate family. Everyone else was laughing and telling stories and generally having a good time, but Jane never cracked a smile all evening. Bob said he made a point of watching her and if she had smiled her face would have cracked. It was very evident that she didn’t want to be there.
About the time that Ole started the fire Jane disappeared into the screen room and talked on the phone for a very long time. Then I saw her walk through the garage, down the driveway out to where their car was parked. When she didn’t come back after a period of time I went into the house and looked out my bedroom window. She couldn’t see me because the room was dark – but I could see her!! There she was sitting in the car listening to the radio. I guess we were all too boring for her to hang around with – or maybe it was because she wasn’t the center of attention. She didn’t have Bernie and Beth to feed off of and act up with. Tsk, tsk, tsk, too damn bad, isn’t it. Last time they were together at one of our bonfires they all drank way too much, pulled up their shirts and bras and walked around with their boobs flopping all over the place. And these women are all in the 50s and wear at least a 44DD.
Now I KNOW we weren’t boring because there was a lot of story telling and joke telling going on. I ran into Bob and Carol the next day and Bob said his sides still hurt from laughing so hard. I guess it’s just Jane’s loss if she refuses to have any fun. And if she thinks she’s making the rest of us pay, well, she’s being fooled now, isn’t she. I just wish we could invite Dick and tell him to leave Jane at home.
Well, actually I guess we could. Dick’s 50th birthday is coming the end of June and Jane is planning a party for him. She’s told one of her friends, Lee, that she’s invited, but she has to leave her significant other home. He’s not allowed to come because he gets to be such a horse’s arse when he’s been drinking. Now if SHE can do it, why can’t I? The only problem is that she would make life so miserable for Dick that he wouldn’t come either.
Maybe Jane was so miserable on Sunday night because she would rather have been out with her male “friend” than with any of us.
Enough about Jane. Now I have to tell you something funny. Well, at least Ole and I thought it was pretty funny.
Let me give you a bit of background: There is a lady, we’ll call her Mrs. OCD at this point, who is currently on the alter guild at our church. This means that she’s in charge of seeing that the correct clothes are on the alter, the appropriate wall hangings are hung, and that the flowers and candles are arranged nicely. She’s also to see that everything is laundered and pressed. Well, us gals who have worked with her on other projects know that she is truly a fussbudget. You know, one of those people who think they are the only ones who can do anything right. They follow behind and redo everyone’s work to their satisfaction and specifications. Nobody wants to work on any committees with her because she’s such a control freak and there’s only one way to do something – her way.
So anyway, Ole, being a trustee of the church was there on Saturday afternoon installing a new hot water heater. The closet that the hot water heater was in happened to be located where he could see what was going on in the sanctuary. It took him about an hour and a half to get it all installed and when he came home he told me that was the most frustrating hour and a half he had spent in a long time. Not that anything had gone wrong with the installation, but Mrs. OCD was there checking on the alter to make sure everything was in place for Sunday morning. He said she spent the entire hour and a half rearranging flowers. She would turn the vases a quarter of an inch and then walk back halfway to the door to look from a distance. Obviously they weren’t right, so she’d turn them another quarter of an inch, walk back, check. Nope – still not right so she’d have to slide the vase a little more to the left or right – walk back – check – nope still not right. An hour and a half, People, turn, walk back, check, nope – wash, rinse and repeat. He said he had the greatest urge to just run up to the front of the sanctuary, take all the vases and just dump all the flowers all over the floor.
Anyway, later that evening Ole decided he needed to go back to the church to check all the water lines for leaks and make sure everything was up to snuff on the water heater. I rode along, as did Lovely Daughter and Lars. He had been telling Lovely Daughter and Lars about how Mrs. OCD spent her afternoon and I thought they would split a gut. Anyway, we all got out and went into the church, Ole to the closet to check for leaks. Lovely Daughter had something else on her mind – she opened the door to the sanctuary and pranced right up to the alter and started moving vases of flowers – twisting a half a turn here and there and moving the vases so they were no longer in the center of the flower stand. Nothing to the point that it looked bad, just enough to skew everything. Just enough to drive Mrs. OCD crazy.
Ole and I went to church the next morning and sat two rows behind Mrs. OCD and her husband. She obviously had gotten there late enough so that she couldn’t go up front and correct everything, but she kept leaning over and whispering in her hubby’s ear and pointing at different things up at the alter. Poor thing – I bet she thought she had lost her mind.
So later, when fellowship was almost over, I was sitting at a table with our Pastor and several other folks. I knew they all had a sense of humor so I told this story. I thought the Pastor was going to roll on the floor from laughing. Everyone else really gave it a cackle too. I wonder if Mrs. OCD will ever recover?
I guess you can tell that Lovely Daughter is definitely her father’s daughter – always up for a trick or a practical joke. Now I would never do anything like that – nuh-uh.
Just as I expected.
Dick and Jane arrived with their daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter and daughter’s 3-month old puppy, none of whom were invited. She arrived with a very sour expression on her face and the only people that she spoke to all evening were her immediate family. Everyone else was laughing and telling stories and generally having a good time, but Jane never cracked a smile all evening. Bob said he made a point of watching her and if she had smiled her face would have cracked. It was very evident that she didn’t want to be there.
About the time that Ole started the fire Jane disappeared into the screen room and talked on the phone for a very long time. Then I saw her walk through the garage, down the driveway out to where their car was parked. When she didn’t come back after a period of time I went into the house and looked out my bedroom window. She couldn’t see me because the room was dark – but I could see her!! There she was sitting in the car listening to the radio. I guess we were all too boring for her to hang around with – or maybe it was because she wasn’t the center of attention. She didn’t have Bernie and Beth to feed off of and act up with. Tsk, tsk, tsk, too damn bad, isn’t it. Last time they were together at one of our bonfires they all drank way too much, pulled up their shirts and bras and walked around with their boobs flopping all over the place. And these women are all in the 50s and wear at least a 44DD.
Now I KNOW we weren’t boring because there was a lot of story telling and joke telling going on. I ran into Bob and Carol the next day and Bob said his sides still hurt from laughing so hard. I guess it’s just Jane’s loss if she refuses to have any fun. And if she thinks she’s making the rest of us pay, well, she’s being fooled now, isn’t she. I just wish we could invite Dick and tell him to leave Jane at home.
Well, actually I guess we could. Dick’s 50th birthday is coming the end of June and Jane is planning a party for him. She’s told one of her friends, Lee, that she’s invited, but she has to leave her significant other home. He’s not allowed to come because he gets to be such a horse’s arse when he’s been drinking. Now if SHE can do it, why can’t I? The only problem is that she would make life so miserable for Dick that he wouldn’t come either.
Maybe Jane was so miserable on Sunday night because she would rather have been out with her male “friend” than with any of us.
Enough about Jane. Now I have to tell you something funny. Well, at least Ole and I thought it was pretty funny.
Let me give you a bit of background: There is a lady, we’ll call her Mrs. OCD at this point, who is currently on the alter guild at our church. This means that she’s in charge of seeing that the correct clothes are on the alter, the appropriate wall hangings are hung, and that the flowers and candles are arranged nicely. She’s also to see that everything is laundered and pressed. Well, us gals who have worked with her on other projects know that she is truly a fussbudget. You know, one of those people who think they are the only ones who can do anything right. They follow behind and redo everyone’s work to their satisfaction and specifications. Nobody wants to work on any committees with her because she’s such a control freak and there’s only one way to do something – her way.
So anyway, Ole, being a trustee of the church was there on Saturday afternoon installing a new hot water heater. The closet that the hot water heater was in happened to be located where he could see what was going on in the sanctuary. It took him about an hour and a half to get it all installed and when he came home he told me that was the most frustrating hour and a half he had spent in a long time. Not that anything had gone wrong with the installation, but Mrs. OCD was there checking on the alter to make sure everything was in place for Sunday morning. He said she spent the entire hour and a half rearranging flowers. She would turn the vases a quarter of an inch and then walk back halfway to the door to look from a distance. Obviously they weren’t right, so she’d turn them another quarter of an inch, walk back, check. Nope – still not right so she’d have to slide the vase a little more to the left or right – walk back – check – nope still not right. An hour and a half, People, turn, walk back, check, nope – wash, rinse and repeat. He said he had the greatest urge to just run up to the front of the sanctuary, take all the vases and just dump all the flowers all over the floor.
Anyway, later that evening Ole decided he needed to go back to the church to check all the water lines for leaks and make sure everything was up to snuff on the water heater. I rode along, as did Lovely Daughter and Lars. He had been telling Lovely Daughter and Lars about how Mrs. OCD spent her afternoon and I thought they would split a gut. Anyway, we all got out and went into the church, Ole to the closet to check for leaks. Lovely Daughter had something else on her mind – she opened the door to the sanctuary and pranced right up to the alter and started moving vases of flowers – twisting a half a turn here and there and moving the vases so they were no longer in the center of the flower stand. Nothing to the point that it looked bad, just enough to skew everything. Just enough to drive Mrs. OCD crazy.
Ole and I went to church the next morning and sat two rows behind Mrs. OCD and her husband. She obviously had gotten there late enough so that she couldn’t go up front and correct everything, but she kept leaning over and whispering in her hubby’s ear and pointing at different things up at the alter. Poor thing – I bet she thought she had lost her mind.
So later, when fellowship was almost over, I was sitting at a table with our Pastor and several other folks. I knew they all had a sense of humor so I told this story. I thought the Pastor was going to roll on the floor from laughing. Everyone else really gave it a cackle too. I wonder if Mrs. OCD will ever recover?
I guess you can tell that Lovely Daughter is definitely her father’s daughter – always up for a trick or a practical joke. Now I would never do anything like that – nuh-uh.
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