It’s 5am and I’m down in Gloucester MA. Sitting on a little strip of sand with my laptop- using a wireless connection that fades off and on. I love the early mornings -this is my favorite time of day. And I’m always awake and ready to GO. Just right now, there is NOTHING going on. NOTHING. In my hometown I would be at the gym at this unGAWDly hour. In this town, not even a 24 hour shop is to be found.

I was at a bar last night and want to share some thoughts about that experience. Sometimes I do really DUMB things. My friends always warn me NOT to do the very things I did last night. Do I listen to them? Most the time YEAH…but not this time.
Live and learn.
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Guess where??:?::?:

Rockport Harbor…MA. Will be here through Friday. Then its….BACK TO WORK. YUCK.

So where I am now?? Up in Bar Harbor Maine.

Guess what the weather is like??:roll:

Main Street @ 6:45am. See that wet shiny stuff on the pavement? It’s RAIN. NOTICE the little liquor store sign. Heh.

The pier off of Main Street. I’m on a rocky little beach.

The Harbor itself.

I do love the rain. And I’m getting pretty wet here. It’s an awesome town and I could live here forever. Will be here through tomorrow- then it’s down to Rockport MA (another maritime haven).

You know you’re a nurse if…..

You would like to meet the inventor of the call light some night in a dark alley.

Your sense of humor gets more warped each year.

Almost everything can seem humorous….eventually.

You know the smell of different diarrhea to identify it.

You can tell the pharmacist more about the medication they are dispensing than they know.

You check the caller id on your day off to see if anyone from the hospital is trying to call and ask you to work.

You’ve been telling stories in a restaurant and made someone at another table throw up.

You notice that you are using more 4 letter words than you did before you started nursing.

Every time someone asks you for a pen you can find at least 4 of them on you.

You live by the motto “to be right is only half the battle, to convince the doctor is more difficult”

You’ve told a confused patient that your name was that of your coworker and to holler if they need help.

Your bladder can expand to the size of a winnebago’s water tank.

You find yourself checking out other customers veins in grocery waiting lines.

You avoid unhealthy looking shoppers in the mal for fear that they will drop near you and you’ll have to do CPR on your day off.

Your finger has gone places you never thought possible.

You have seen more penises than any prostitute.

If you are not a nurse and have been sent this by a friend who is, its just to help you understand our mind set and questionable mental status/sanity. Most of the time we function in spite of this sick sense of humor, fairly normally and very responsibly.

Believe me, this is how we think, ALL THE TIME. Scary huh??

From Heather….

I’ve heard many stories about Viagra Sex.:shock:

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1955. I wasn’t even thought of then!

I wonder how much of this could help today’s marriages?
Will the feminists go craZy over this? Will all women? Debate worthy, for sure.

The Good Wife’s Guide

* Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.

* Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you’ll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking. HE has just been with a lot of work-weary people.

* Be a little gay and a little more interested for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.

* Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives.

* Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc and then run a dustcloth over the tables.

* Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.

* Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children’s hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimise all noise. At the time of his arrival, elimintate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.

* Be happy to see him.

* Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.

*Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

* Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.

* Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquillity where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.

* Don’t greet him with complaints and problems.

* Don’t complain if he’s late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.

* Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.

* Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.

* Don’t ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.

* A good wife always knows her place.

This came from an actual Housekeeping Monthly article dated May 13, 1955. Aren’t you glad we have evolved in our ways of thinking since then???

Evolved? I don’t know if it’s for the best though. Look at society now. We have nothing to be overly proud of I hate to say. The only part of this list I can remotely relate to is having a good hot meal ready for when the X got home from work. The kids were already in bed; the house was cleaned and it was quiet (11pm at night). I didn’t usually have much to say because I was exhausted at this point (from getting up at 5am and going to work myself til 3pm; coming home to the kids, the mess, the meal preparations, housework…) I don’t consider myself a career woman- I suppose I could- I worked and still work to pay the bills- not to make some statement about how important I am.

UPDATE:
In today’s WaPo- there is some discussion about a recent Forbes piece- about career women being less desirable targets for men. I do have to admit though, I am divorced and that was something I initiated. After years of being married, and being at work watching others who were happier and much more content than I was- I kicked my hubby out. I have not regretted this one bit. Did my “career” have something to do with my choice? Yes I would say- the people I worked with showed me how my marriage was a one way street and I was always on the give, give and give end of it…while he GOT, GOT and GOT. Interesting debate.

The Crown Pub in Belfast is an awesome place. The woodwork- walls, ceilings and floors, posts and much of it’s furnishings came from old ocean liners. As did the stained glass and other fixtures. Most of the artwork isn’t the real thing, rather, reproductions. The last time I went to Belfast I only went into the Crown for a quick look, not to actually sit down and drink. I remember being in awe of all the historic fittings in this place.

One of more adventurous experiences I had in Belfast was at the Crown. We had been drinking a lot and the music was blaring. Everyone was in high spirits, to say it politely (we were TRASHED). On a dare, I got up onto a barstool and tried to dance in one spot- step dance. That didn’t work as the stool kept moving and I fell off it a few times. So I jumped onto the bar itself and danced there- knocking over glasses and ashtrays and slipping on the wet napkins left behind. A couple other women got up there with me and together we pretended to pole dance- on a pole with pineapple wood carvings. Imagine how THAT felt. Being as drunk as we were, not a one of us noticed the scratches and cuts we promptly inflicted upon ourselves. Pineapple poles just don’t work for this.

The music picked up and everyone pulled us down from the bar; everyone held hands and together, we all did the round-a-bout dance…several rounds before someone ahead (or behind, depending upon how you look at it)- got dizzy and fell backwards. Like a group of dominoes, we all fell in order right after. Drinks went everywhere. The laughter grew. The fun had begun.

I love to be with people who know how to have fun and be respectful at the same time. It is possible. I also prefer being with folks who are not stuck up and snooty and worried about their manners and appearance. Several years ago when I traveled to Ireland with these same people, I decided I would go anywhere with them. Down to earth and real. The group of people I was with is a diverse group- we have ship captains, ship doctors, engineers, builders, iron workers, book authors, Presidents of famous ship building yards…and people like me, history buffs who just want to KNOW and SEE all things ocean liner!

Some of them are millionaires. One would never know it though, because they leave that behind when we’re all together. I asked a book author who was among us,(a multi millionaire) WHY, why hang out with the third class? His reponse grounded me: Because he can’t have any real fun when he is living the rich life. He has to always be on his best behavior; he cannot offend anyone. He cannot eat and drink anything he wants. But most of all, he told me, he likes being with regular people because he doesn’t have to worry about his money being the object of all his attention. Far too often, his “friends” are really only the friends of his bank account, not him. Far too often, women- young and old alike, drift to his side in hopes of getting a cash handout for special favors. He told me he can burp and fart and laugh and fall over and joke about, without the displeasing fingerpointing he usually gets from his first classmates. It was a very educational conversation. We talked for hours. He asked me all sorts of questions- about my life and how I manage to survive on the little income I make. He was utterly shocked that I go to Wal Mart, LOL. And he was impressed with my love of nursing…the one job he stated he could never do. I never had someone ask so many questions about my patients and the ins and outs of my work. He could be a nurse now, he got so much info from me.

Time and time again in my life, I meet people who are filthy rich and yet, extremely unhappy with their lives. It’s strange. People like me dream of being rich, of having all the money in the world to do all those things we so want to do. People like me, who just want to pay their rent and have enough cash left over for food…I used to mock all the rich people. Most still deserve that. But there are a few who would live in my shoes just to appreciate what they have more…and to see, firsthand, that people like me do have more fun because we don’t let our poor points get in the way of life. People are all different. Those who will get up and dance on a pineapple pole with the likes of me are worthy of my respect.

I returned home from Ireland Sunday morning. I was scheduled to stay another week, BUT, my daughters are heading off to college this week. It was all arranged- their Dad was taking care of the details and his friends were going to help. My youngest daughter decided she needed me to be with her, as this is her first time away. So I came home. There is nothing more important than your kids…and it’s an honor to have such good kids who are smart and sassy and…who need their Mom.

I had a GREAT time. We went to Belfast first- to the old Harland and Wolff ship building yards. Those hull cranes are one of the most awesome sites anyone can ever see. Watching them work is something I shall never forget. The sounds and scents of this area are also forever grilled into my memories. I have been there before, but not up close and personal like this time.

We also saw the dry dock where Titanic was once parked…it’s empty now and silent- with a slight growth of grass and other greenery. I’m hoping they will keep this place as it is- a memorial, sort of. Another attraction of Belfast is the Crown Pub. YOU gotta go there. The wood works, glass, and fittings are FABULOUS. The atmosphere is humble and fun- I’ve always thought the world’s coolest people live in Ireland. Now I know it’s VERY much a FACT.

Another coveted stop in my travels was Old Kinsale Head, near Cobh. These are the cliffs off the ocean, where the Lusitania was torpedoed and sank in 1915. We sat in the early morning, in dense fog, and just watched the region open up. We sat where the little kids were sitting all those years ago, for a lunch picnic, as they witnessed the Lucy’s attack and sinking (10 miles off the coast). There are several Lusitania memorials in this area that we went to. It’s a beautiful place and I plan to go back next year!

The final leg of my trip was the Giants Causeway. HUGE cliffs and rocks to climb; funky earth under your feet, and scenery and views of the ocean that we just don’t have here in the US. I wish we did…there is nothing even remotely like it though. We ended up back in Belfast where we hit up several of the little unknown pubs where they cooked up GREAT foods and served BIG glasses of Guiness. Refills always free. Some of us passed out at a couple of these bars, too. Live music by real Irish bands, lots of dancing and laughing- I had a wonderful time and SO WANT to go back.

My friends are still over there. I just got off the phone with them- they are up in County Donegal having the time of their lives. I could hear the fun in their voices. They’re going to Dublin next. I miss them and miss the fun I would be having- but there’s always another time for this. There is not another time to be with my kids as they go off to their colleges. We have a full week of this moving in funstuff. And starting next week, as in the past, I will be going to the colleges to see the girls and bring them homecooked food and things like it. A Mom’s work is never finished. And it’s good to be home.

We spent today with Kim’s Mom…Yvette. She has a really bad chest cold- that’s going around the entire area…Mom had an MD appt for a check up. Things are deteriorating quickly.

Yvette was born in 1945. She had three daughters, all in the 60’s, by different fathers. She doesn’t know who the actual Dad’s are to Kim and her sisters. She married Mack in 1969, who adopted the girls as his own. They were all born here in NH and they lived in Peterborough, right up the road from me. Mack died about 8 yrs ago of a heart attack. Yvette has been an alcoholic for as long as I can remember.

Way back when we were little kids, Kim and I would play by the pond. There was a little beach there- man made by a big mound of sand someone had dumped off. Through the yrs that mound flattened down. It was a favorite spot for Kim and me. We would play in the water and pretend to be aliens, LOL, influenced by re-runs of Lost In Space. My family had a boat house, but we never kept our boat in it. Instead it became the play house for the neighborhood kids. It was right next to our little beach. Jimmy would come over with Janine, and together we would pretend the house was a big space ship. Hours and hours were spent in this area, playing and fighting and laughing and all that stuff.

One day we decided it would be really cool to take the boat out onto the pond. The boat would be a neat satelite ship…and so it was. We dragged it out into the water and climbed into it. Did we ask our folks? No. Did they notice all the glee and noise and tugging and lugging that occurred? No. Our parents were all drunk, sitting on the porch of my house. We were less than 100 feet away from them.

We managed to row the boat on into the middle of the pond. I’m sure we made a ot of commotion and noise- 4 young (5, 6, 7 yr olds)…the further out we got, the louder we laughed and the world looked different. The pond was at the base of Pack Monadnock Mnt- which is really just an ant hill, but to a little kid, it looked like Mnt. Everest. I remember looking UP at it and being in awe of it’s massive size. Heh. Next thing I know, Kim falls out of the boat and into the pond. She can’t swim. She can barely keep herself afloat…Jimmy knew how to swim and being the only boy out of the lot, he jumped in and “saved” her. By dragging her to the shore. He wasn’t strong enough to push her back into the boat. That left Janine and I in the boat by ourselves.

I’ll never forget it…and neither will Kim. Her mother, Yvette came over and dragged Kim by her long hair, pulled her pants down, spanked her hard and called her every name in the book.
Kim screamed and cried. We all deserved to be whacked for what we did, no doubt. Jimmy’s Dad smacked him with a branch from a tree; thats when the rest of the grown ups noticed me and Janine out in the boat.

My Dad yelled to me to row the boat back to the shore. Which I did with a lof of huffing and puffing. I was very little for my age- barely 2 1/2 feet tall at that age. Janine was bigger and older and she tried to help but she was scared to death. She knew she would be getting what her brother got.

We eventually got the boat to the shore and my Dad pulled me out, by my hair (that seemed to be a common thing). I got spanked and swatted and was sent to my room. We all went to our respective rooms that night…and after all settled down and the grown up had passed out, literally, we snuck outside to the woods to our secret fort. There we shared the horror stories of our parents beating us up after we got home. Kim got burned by cigarette butts. She showed us the burns on her back and belly. Jimmy and Janine just got spanked again as did I…Kim always got the worst of it. Her mother was the one who scared us all the most. She was the youngest Mom of them all, the one with the meanest demeanor. We called her Yvette the Witch cause she looked like one. She was very abusive to Kim and her sisters.

Which brings me back to now. I look at Yvette and see just a shell of that witch- she has aged and she has shrunk a little. She isn’t so scary now. Kim and her sisters tower over her now, and in spite of the burns and beatings, they love their Mother. They look out for her. They cherish her. Yvette is dying. She has Alzheimer’s Disease which has robbed her of those very memories her children must endure. Every now and again though, the old Yvette comes through. She will be sitting at the table having her lunch…and make a snide comment to Kim about her looks or clothes or something like that. Or she will be sundowning in the early evenings, seeking out her daughters who…must be out misbehaving as always. In her mind the kids are still little. She looks for them while smacking her hands together, as if in preparation for what she used to do to them.

It amazes me that Yvette’s daughters stand by her. I don’t know if I would have the ump to do that. Family rocks for sure. Forgiveness is a wonderful value.

What a crock! OK..it’s not a CROC.

You’ve tried to ignore them, but they’ve spread like vermin. Crocs are everywhere. That’s often the way with shoe crazes — think Birkenstocks, Earth shoes, Dr. Scholl’s. Crocs wearers are practically evangelical about the shoes’ supposed comfort, but really, how can you trust people who go out in public wearing goofy rubbery clogs with vent holes in them? Might as well ascribe health benefits to chopped-off garden galoshes or jelly shoes.

I wear them. I have for over a year now. I work in nursing and my days are 16 hours long. My feet feel like lead balloons when I wear sneakers or even Berkies. Not so with these CROCS. Yes, they are ugly as sin. Yes, they come in funky ass colors. BUT, they are the most comfortable shoes I have ever owned. My work involves heavy duty walking, running, constant standing. My work offers little relief from this stuff too. Nurses need comfortable feet. CROCS provide this. I own two pair actually: Navy blue and black. I had a pair long before anyone else did and they all made fun of me. Until a couple decided to try them out. NOW everyone I work with wears them…even the doctors. They come in so many colors it makes me dizzy; they are light as feathers and so easy to keep clean (run ‘em through a dishwasher!). I’m endorsing them!