telling myself to STFU

I went by the gym tonight and spent some time sweating. On the way home, I stopped by the bank to deposit my paycheck. It's a small bank in a small town so depositing my check means signing it and dropping it in the night box. And that's exactly what I did. Three-fourths of the way home (which isn't all that far) I suddenly heard That Voice. You know the one, it pipes up in the back of your head to tell you that you've screwed up somehow. Mine was telling me that I hadn't dropped my signed paycheck into the slot, that I had somehow dropped the envelope on the ground and left it there for someone to find. And someone would find it and throw it away or take it and cash it or something else awful. And there I'd be, minus a whole paycheck. Man, That Voice was coming up with all sorts of terrible stuff. Missed bills, late payments, so forth and so on. All of that, despite the fact that I knew I'd dropped that check into that slot. I saw it disappear. But because of That Voice, I kept wanting to turn around and go back to make sure. Even sitting here typing this, hours later, I still feel the urge to throw on some jeans and go check the bank parking lot, just to make sure. I haven't done it yet and I keep telling That Voice to shut up. Reminding myself that I saw the envelope drop into the slot. That Voice replies that maybe that's an old memory, from another night. I tell That Voice to hush up one more time.
I guess a lot of people have a Voice like that. Some people's Voices sound like somebody else. I've heard of folks hearing their mama or grandpa. I wouldn't mind hearing someone else's Voice. It's a lot easier to ignore somebody else. I hear my own voice. Let me tell you something, it can be very hard to ignore your own self talking at you, fussing and worrying, criticizing and complaining. And, man, I am mean. That Voice can bring up stuff that happened years ago, making me feel stupid all over again. So I try to tell myself to shut the fuck up. Too bad I'm so hard-headed, I don't even mind my own self. So, I'm trying to write all this out, hoping I don't sound like I'm flat crazy, thinking that maybe putting it all down like this will show That Voice that yeah, it got to me. I just won't give in to it. And I wonder, if That Voice is me, why do I get so mad? Why don't I like it?

imagine me rolling my eyes

I've been a bit scatter-brained lately, more so than usual. I don't know whether it's the time of year, everything that's been going on, or what, but I can't seem to get things done here lately. Not enough time, not enough energy. I have managed to read quite a few books, but then again, I can always find time and energy for books.
I haven't posted anything in a while (obviously!) but something happened today I just had to share. I get a lot of phone calls at the bookstore from people who want to know if we have a particular title in stock. Usually the caller asks what the store hours are during the same phone call. Usually calls like that take about 5 minutes. Today I had one that didn't go quite as usual. The caller definitely made my list.

Me: Book Nook, may I help you?
Her: Yeah, do y'all have a book called Killing Mockingbirds? Or whatever it is, I don't know.
Me: To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee? (You wouldn't believe the variations I hear on that title, but I was pretty sure that was it)
Her: Yeah, I guess, whatever.
Me: Yes ma'am I have several copies
Her: Ok, what are y'all's hours? What time do you close and
what days are you open?
Me: 9:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday through Saturday
Her: Are y'all open on Sunday?
Me: No
Her: Ok, so y'all are open right now, today until 6
Me: Yes

And then she hung up. So I went to help a customer and while I was talking to that customer the phone rang again. It had only been about 6 or 7 minutes since that phone call.

Me: Book Nook, may I help you?
Her: Uh, yeah I just called about that book How to Kill with
Mockingbirds and you said you had one.
Me: Yes ma'am
Her: Are you still open, you said you were open till 6
Me: Yes, we're open until 6 today. (It was about 5:20)
Her: Well you're open till 6. Is someone gonna be there?
Me: Ma'am?
Her: I'm sending my kid to get a copy, and I just wanted to make sure somebody was gonna be there in a few minutes since y'all are open until 6
Me: Yes ma'am I will be here until 6
Her: Ok so you'll be there? I mean I don't want to send him if you aren't there when he gets there.
Me: We close at 6, I'll be here until 6. At 6, I'm locking up and leaving. So as long as he gets here before 6, I'll be here.
Her: Ok I just wanted to make sure someone would be there until 6

I had to laugh after I hung up. I really, really wanted to tell her that even though the store was open until 6, no one would be there. She could just come in and get her book. And make sure to leave her money on the counter. The customer who was in the store overheard my side of the conversation and by the time I got off the phone she was laughing her ass off. The best part? When the kid came in to pick up the book, I recognized him. His mom (the one who called) is the stepdaughter (from a previous marriage) of the woman my dad is now married to. I'm just thankful there's no actual blood relation.

from Standing in the Shadow

to believe
winds that blow, do coldly,
set loose this soul's unease.
a heart that ventured boldly,
now loneliness must appease.

for why in shelter even sought
this heart a comfort from the wind?
crushed so carelessly without a thought,
man has fallen, love has sinned.

still stands fast this simple man,
with discipline and trust.
for courage wavers without plan
and believing is a must.

tomorrow is but another day,
brought by night to end.
if then love should come my way,
it will be brought,
by you,
my friend.

written by Shadow, for me, shortly after we met

It's been 3 years. I still miss you everyday.

My buddy

This is Ears, a red-nose pit bull who lives at the vet clinic where I worked. One of the sweetest, goofiest dogs I've ever met.
Ears is a Katrina refugee. I started working for Doc shortly after Katrina. She was already involved in the rescue/shelter operation, providing veterinary services and helping to locate owners for all the animals who ended up here. I don't know if anyone saw (or remembers) the story one of the news stations did about the animal shelter set up in a Louisiana prison with the inmates doing a lot of the daily care for the animals. That's the one Doc helped with and that's how I met Ears. We thought he'd had a home at some point since he was in pretty good shape and obviously accustomed to being handled. As a matter of fact, Ears insists on being handled, played with and loved on. He doesn't mind men, but he absolutely adores women. Needless to say, he enjoys living at Doc's clinic, since her staff is usually all female. After taking care of him for months, none of us wanted to let him go so Doc kept him. He's survived Katrina, living on the streets of New Orleans in the aftermath, lots of upheaval and a pretty bad case of heartworms.
Being around Ears is one of the things I miss about working at the clinic. He thinks he is a lap dog so he's constantly trying to climb up and sit on someone. Sometimes he would come and sit under my desk, resting his chin on my feet. He's quite an escape artist, he figured out how to get out of kennels pretty quick. There were several mornings I walked in to the clinic to find him sitting on my desk or laying in front of the door waiting for someone to arrive. He bounces around like a puppy if he sees a tennis ball and he's one of the few dogs I've seen who is happy to jump up on an exam table. To him it means lots of petting, a few pokes when he gets a shot, and then more loving and treats. He's a little spoiled now, but as sweet as ever. When I took Skye to the vet the other day, he ran right up to the fence to say hi and get some pets and scratches. He also wanted to see Skye, since the two of them got along pretty well. She doesn't much care for being licked head to tail in one swipe and he always looks as if he's laughing when he does it.
All of my life I've heard horror stories about pits. Ears is nothing like that. He's just a great dog, big hearted, loving, sweet, mischievious and funny. And a reminder (to me, anyway) that judging a book by its cover and living a life based on assumptions is a good way to miss out on too many wonderful things.

Princess, Pampered

I've already introduced my min-pin Skye. And I'm pretty sure I mentioned that she is incredibly spoiled and pampered. Somehow I get blamed for this. Dad brings her bags of Cheetos every time he stops by and T gives her cookies slathered with peanut butter. Sarge and Wench have been known to feed her steak. Everyone else babies her outrageously but it's my fault she's rotten. Yeah, right.
Skye is an indoor dog, has a nice little bed with a blanket on it, plus a blanket on the couch and another under my computer table. T insisted she needed a house. Why? Because she needed "her own little space". I said okay, figuring we'd get a carrier. Wrong. That wasn't big enough or good enough according to T. And carriers don't look like houses. (spoiled, remember?) So we looked for dog houses that looked like people houses. And found one at Hell-mart. I read the description on the box and tried to talk T out of it, since it was for dogs up to 70 lbs. Skye weighs 7 lbs. "That's going to be too big" I told him. Not to mention, it would take up a lot of room in our very small house. But he really, really wanted to get it and since I have a hard time saying no to him we bought it. (Okay, okay I'll admit I thought it would be kinda cute for Skye to have this huge house)Anyway, we bought it, brought it home and put it together. T stuck her bed in there then decided she wouldn't like walking on plastic. He took her blanket, folded it and used it to cover the floor. She now has wall-to-wall carpet. Since he'd used her blanket for the floor, he took one of my fleece throws and gave it to her for a blanket. Needless to say, Skye loves it.

The sight of this tiny dog lounging in this huge house makes me smile.Pretty darned cute, huh?

Not on my need to know list

One of my favorite characters from Edding's Belgariad said "Any day you learn something is a day you haven't wasted." (Badly paraphrased, but I can't find my copy)
Last night I learned how to remove stitches from incisions. Hopefully, I'll never have to do it again. I'm not squeamish, but I don't do well with scissors.
Talked to my dad today, he'd been to the doctor. His eyes are doing great.
T goes to the doctor tomorrow, but he is doing really well. The stitches were actually cutting into his shoulder and the incisions were getting irritated. Since they came out, he's done much better. He still can't lift his arm or use it to push/pull/carry anything, but he can move it pretty well. Plus, it's not hurting as much.

Things are going pretty well, there have been further developments on the job issues. I'm waiting to see what happens next and how everything turns out. (Can't talk about it in detail until it's all done. Cross your fingers for me, please!)

Southern charms

One of the things I enjoy so much about living in the South is that warm weather comes earlier and stays later here. So, for all my friends enduring icy, dreary weather, here's a little sunshine for y'all.

Tulip magnolias from two different trees. The one above is from the zoo, below is near my home.

Kumquats. Soo good. Right around the corner from my house. I just liked the contrast of red berries and green leaves against that drab, gray wall.

Hope y'all enjoyed this. Wishing everyone warm winds and blue skies. Hugs.