Dog Momma Duties

My biological clock is ticking so loudly that I can hardly hear myself think, so of course, I did what any 27 year old baby wanting human would do, and adopted two sweet sister puppies. They are smart and spoiled and trouble and bark and chew and dig and I ADORE them. They eat my cactus, shred my paper (see below), chase butterflies, pull each other's tails, sleep ON TOP of each other, and I wouldn't trade one single second. They may not have stopped the ticking clock, but they've quieted it a little, and they make their mommy smile.

Bunny Flowers

Larkspur = Bunny Flowers

Look closely, see the bunny in the middle? My paternal grandmother, my Didi, had a whole garden full. She was amazing. An accomplished painter, gardener, and sweet sweet soul. When I was three, my Didi & Grandad gave me a huge pink stuffed bunny. I can remember them sitting it on the sofa, and all the adults watching to see my reaction. I was unsure if it was actually for me, and trying to make my three year old brain have the self restraint to not grab her and make a run for it. I spent weeks trying to come up with a name suitable for such a grand possession, only to finally realize there wasn't one. Her name would be "Bunny". That same year, my Daddy brought home a real bunny, she was white with pink eyes, and her name was Foo Foo. Foo Foo didn't last long, but my love for bunnies did, so when Didi took me by the hand one spring day, and showed me the bunny inside her funny purple flower, I was in awe.

Didi got sick, very sick, very fast, but Grandad would push her chair out into her garden so she could sit and instruct him on how to keep it. I would sidle up beside her so she could tell me which ones to pick for her bedside. She passed in the fall, too young and too soon. Grandad did his best to keep the house, and the garden exactly how she'd left it, but time turned the flowers to weeds, and the ivy took over mercilessly like a garden dictator. Twenty years later, every spring, I turn back into that seven year old, crouched over what was once my Didi's garden, waiting for the first sprouts of Larkspur. Spring still comes through all the dead of winter, and so do the bunny flowers.

This year, for the first time, I'll have bunny flowers of my own, planted in little vintage wooden planters that my Didi would have loved.

Faith vs. Insanity

I've written on faith before, but I had a clarifying moment this morning while watering my garden. I'm not sure if I clarified faith, or insanity...most likely a little bit of both. I realized as I was watering my empty, brown dirt that gardening from seeds is the perfect exercise in faith (or insanity). Every day, twice a day, I drag the hose over, turn it on, and water empty planters, with the faith that one day Ill see tiny little green sprouts. Some days I have doubts, and fight the urge to dig down a little to see if anything is cooking, but most days I just water, hum a little, and expect that one day soon my patience, perseverance, and faith will pay off with a yield from my garden.

P.S. I also realize that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result....

Life Questions...

*creeeak....blows dust off*

Goodness, it's been awhile. Thankfully, my schedule has finally given up the fight and let me win. I went from working basically all day, seven days a week, to now a normal work week. IT IS AWESOME! Im feeling more productive, *and* more creative, which makes for a happy, happy me.

I also have a few life questions I've been pondering. Maybe you can help me out here.

1. How is it possible for two puppies to make SO MUCH POOP?

2. How can gooey delicious lemon cupcakes be hard enough to cause blunt force trauma?

3. If I have so much time now, why did I have to wear damp panties to yoga this morning because there were not any clean *and* dry pairs?

4. How can I always manage to step on the *one* squeaky dog toy when I get up in the night to pee?

5. How on earth did I mistake trout for salmon? (and why the hell didnt I just take it back?)

6. How have I gone 27 years without "Douchecanoe" in my vocabulary?

I promise I have more important things to write/tell, but not tonight. Had to get back in the saddle somehow, right?

Kitchen Insecurities

Well, Ive come to the conclusion that I should not be a housewife. (not that I ever REALLY thought I could be)

It's been a hard month food wise at my house. My dear friend Bonnie (see post below) is Martha-Freaking-Stewart, and I began to feel bad about my lack of domesticity. Soooooo I decided it was high time for me to put my oven mitts to use and start creating some wonderful meals. Unfortunately, my kitchen knowledge is scarce, AT BEST, so there are always lots of "Googles". For example "how to hard boil eggs", "how to tell when pasta is ready", etc.

Problem number one= My oven doesn't work.

While I HAVE mastered the art of Crescent Rolls on the grill, there are just some things you can't "cook out".

Problem number two = My Work Schedule

I work from 8am-5pm and 6pm-10pm daily, except for the weekends, which I only work 6pm-10pm. This doesn't leave much time for gourmet cooking....

Problems #1 & 2 lead me to one conclusion. A Crock Pot.

So off to the store I went for said Crock Pot, and some groceries to put in it. I decided to break in the Crock Pot with some good old fashioned Chicken Noodle soup. I mean HOW HARD CAN IT BE?! So I got what Google told me I needed, but had NO idea how to go about cooking and chopping a whole chicken, so I cheated and went with good ole Pilgrims Pride chicken breasts.

My thinking, "I can cook the cut up chicken breasts in some broth overnight, then add the veggies in the morning, and Ill have some kick ass chicken noodle soup by lunchtime!" What really happened, skip to about 3:13 am, "Oh holy hell, I cannot stand the smell of that chicken cooking for one more SECOND!!!" Even the dogs were nauseated. So up I got to put the chicken and the Crock Pot on the back porch for the remainder of the night, and smear some Vicks under my nose so I didn't vomit.

Needless to say, chicken noodle soup was the LAST THING IN THE WORLD I wanted the next day, so Mr. Chicken got a nice burial at sea down my toilet.

Lesson number one= Do your cookin during the day, preferably with open windows.

So two weeks go by, I have stopped cursing at the Crock Pot, and decide to give porkchops a try. The night before I set out the chops to thaw, and then the next morning put all my ingredients in the Crock Pot and got her going. There they were, ready and waiting for their Pork Chops to jump in, when I realized I had set out two giant steaks to thaw the night before....

Two Years and One Friend Later...

Well, it only took me two and a half years here in El Paso to make a friend, that either says a lot about my work schedule, or my personality...

I started doing yoga for the first time at a studio fairly close to my house in April-ish, and quickly discovered it kept me from being as neurotic as usual, and kept going! It was the most "normal", and I use that word VERY loosely, social setting I had been in since moving from Weatherberry, and I had forgotten how much I needed that kind of outlet.

One day, after I'd been going a month or so, we did a "partner stretch", and since the "partners" needed to be roughly the same height (yeah, good luck with that in El Paso), I got paired with a girl on the complete other side of the room, named Bonnie. Now, I had seen Bonnie several times, and we had said "hi & bye" in class, but never had the chance to talk.

Turns out, Bonnie was a bit socially starved too! A high power accountant, and recent transport from MANHATTAN...yes, New York City, to El Paso, TX...talk about a culture shock! She also went from Mrs. Career woman, to Mrs. Stay At Home Mommy of 8 month old Jacob. Whoa! I just thought I wanted to slit my wrists with a butter knife....

So once we were introduced, in the form of trying to "gumbify" each other in partner stretch, our first conversation went sorta like this.

Bonnie: "Hi, my name's Bonnie"
Kristen: "Hi, my name's Kristen"
Both Together: "Wanna be my friend?" (not really, but basically)

So here we are, five months later, and causing lots of trouble. Our most recent adventure was "de-algaeing" Bonnie's pool (which I COMPLETELY got suckered into). See, Mrs. Bonnie has contacts, therefore, she wasnt about to don on the goggles and go down with the wire brush. I was good with that part, minus the fact that I kept floating up in the middle of my scrubbing. Bonnie, so lovingly placed her hoof in the middle of my back on the pool floor to "help" me stay down there (true confessions, but only because she will most likely read this, I DID ask her to push with her HAND to help me, but evidently, the foot worked better). Part two of the algae cleaning involved rubbing a chlorine tablet along the bottom of the pool floor to kill any remaining algae I didnt get with the brush. "The pool guy told me to be sure and NOT handle the chlorine, he said socks work good". So at some point, while holding my breath at the bottom of my friend's pool, wearing her gym socks on my hands, and rubbing poisonous chemicals on the plaster three inches from my face, I realized that we MUST be true friends. (of course, at this point, when it all became incredibly funny to me, I came up spouting and laughing uncontrollably, to point this out to my sweet friend Bonnie).

Good friends are hard to find, and I'm glad I found this one.
(even if she did try to drown me)

Stolen Moments

We have flower pots outside the front door of both clinics. (Granted the Anthony one is CHAINED to the wall, but that's beside the point) They make everything look nicer, especially this time of year when the flowers are so bright and colorful. We change them out periodically, as they need it, to keep them looking fresh, but sometimes get a little "help" from our patients who like them just a little too much. 

One day Amy was removing the deceased, or nearly dead flowers in order to make room for new ones, and a woman waiting in her car for someone in the pharmacy called out (in Spanish) "Hey! Why are you throwing out those flowers?" Amy says (Again in Spanish), "Oh Seniora, they're dead and we're getting new ones." The woman replied, "No, I take flowers from here all the time, and they do very well.."

Violet

It's SPRING, finally! Edna (my Powerbook) has been sick for almost a month, thus my absence from Bloggerland, but is back home to her mother now and the world can begin spinning once more. 

Violet is 13 months old, and she has a hard life ahead of her. She has 4 older brothers and sisters, her mom is 27, and she doesn't have a dad. Her mother's boyfriend has a long history of Seizure Disorder, and has the mental capacity of an 8 yr. old. He isn't allowed to be home alone with any of the children, not their rule, CPS's rule. Her older sister was tazed, along with their mother, by her first husband. He tazed them so that they would be still enough for him to run them over with his car. The four older children witnessed their grandmother bleed to death, and two years later, their grandfather's fatal heart attack in the bathtub. The second oldest girl has tried to kill her teacher (really), and attempts to strangle the youngest boy when he won't quit crying. After the death of their grandparents, the mother moved them all to California to live with her only remaining family. Their uncle beat them and they left everything they owned to take an 18 hour bus ride back home. Once they got back, they lived for two months on a friend's screened in porch until they could find a place to stay. The mom has since secured them a house through her church, and is attempting to put her life back together. 

She isn't a bad mom, but she is so in over her head. 

We first met Violet at two days old. In a world SO full of chaos, God made a miracle. She is the most perfect child. When she was four months old, I asked her mother if she would consider letting me adopt her. Her reply? "Are you kidding, she's the only beautiful thing I have." 

X-Mas Highlight Reel

What you need to know about my Holiday Season

~I traveled the world (ok not really, but most of Texas and Oklahoma)

~My bags traveled even more than I did (which is not a good thing). My clothes ended up in Birmingham, Alabama. I ended up in Amarillo, TX. Not Good.

~I have the best family. We all made Gingerbread Houses (ok, so we cheated and used Pop Tarts)

~I reconnected with a dear friend

~Saw "Doubt" with K.C. and David (Not a movie for the masses, but we REALLY liked it. Unreal acting)

~I attended the MOST FABULOUS K.C. Clifford Show at the UCO Jazz Lab. Ahhhh heaven

~I had sweet sweet time with all my best-est friends.

~ I painted in Steve's new studio (jealous)

~I ate my weight in Sushi

~I did a wee bit of shopping (blushes)

~I had one (or two) too many Vodka Tonics (with a bloody mary in there somewhere) and olives and came home with Snausages instead of toes. 

~Came home to a nice dinner, and my OWN BED!!! YAY!

~Amy and I saw "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button". Incredible. If you havent seen it. GO!

It was so great to have time with my family and favorite friends, and so nice to have such a great home to come home to. I have so much to be thankful for. 

Happy New Year!

T-Day

Thanksgiving was great. 

For the first time in 20 years, I had ONE AND ONLY ONE Thanksgiving dinner! Yippeeee!

(if you don't know why, check it out here)

I did get to hang out with my Granddad, who has GOT to be the COOLEST man to have that title EVER. 

He has a brand new Mac with a 24" inch screen, and we couldnt resist being a bit goofy with the camera...

At 87 he still rides the stationary bike at the "Youth Center" 15 miles a day, and has a daily "Paper Route" which involves moving all the neighborhood little old ladies newspapers from their driveways to their porches.

I also had the pleasure of a session with one of the MOST talented photographers you can imagine (who just happens to be a lifelong friend) for some "Mommy(s) and Daughter" photographs. It was such a great time with my two mommies, and  a special special day. They should be up here on Lissa's blog soon.

Momma Kay came back to El Paso with me for the week, and we are taking full advantage of the FAB shopping around town...(you can only imagine)

I am so thankful for all of the blessings in my life...my family, friends, home, partner, job, health, opportunities, and so much more...I try to be grateful EVERY day for all that I have, but it is especially apparent during this Holiday Season.

Happy Holidays~

Creepy Crawly Critter Update

This is a sequel to Promises Promises, and Ding Ding Ding...We have a Winner. Haven't read them? Shame on you...go now, click above.

Well, did I tell you we caught the second Kangaroo Rat? This one was much smaller than the first (we're assuming this is the female) and quite a bit less aggressive. Still closely resembles a Disney mouse, and pretty darn cute.

Hopefully she found Mr. Roo Rat behind the Dairy Queen and they lived happily ever after.

Notice those LEGS. No wonder she could move dog shit from shelf to shelf in a single bound.

In other news, it was a sad day for Geckos nationwide (especially this one). The stow-away gecko from Key West that vanished behind my vanity mirror was found dead this week on the bathroom floor. Crusty and with empty eye sockets, it was not a pretty site. Obviously I was correct in my statement that Geckos don't (and can't) live in the desert.

Not me...

This post started as a comment to thewishfulwriter 's post "Forward Backward", but I realized it needed to be more than a comment, a statement. She was commenting on America's giant step forward for African Americans that was simultaneous with the giant step back for the gay and lesbian community. Prop 8 passing in California.

It breaks my heart, both ways. Breaks my heart for the millions of african american children whose parents can now say with certainty that they CAN be anything they can dream of. For our older americans who can finally gain some healing for the sins of of our country's past. And for all of the people that have heard no all their lives to finally be able to stand up and say "Yes We Can!"

But for those of us, gay or straight, who wish that our children could grow up in a more tolerant and open-minded society, it is a soul crushing defeat. Amy says that in all actuality, GLT rights have not really changed in her lifetime. That the majority of Americans, if they got the chance, would still throw a beer bottle at our heads if they thought no one was looking. It is strange to me that America can progress so far as to elect an African American man as the most powerful leader in the world, but be scared shitless of two people who love each other and want to be recognized as a family.

Let me be clear, for me it isnt about "the wedding" or the piece of paper. I know to some, that is of monumental importance, and I understand that. For me, it is about being able to have a family, to have insurance, to have a house if something happened to my partner, to have her at my bedside if I am ill and in the hospital, to be able to leave our legacy to our children. Tell me please how those wishes make anyone else's marriage less sacred. I'll tell you what is threatening to the sanctity of marriage. Divorce, abuse, adultery, disrespect. Not me.

Today I'll be disappointed, and tomorrow, again, I'll have hope that with a new administration, and a new direction, this country will be able to do right by all it's citizens.

A Vote Cast (and a tiny little fickle one)

I couldn't wait to vote this morning. Double checked my polling place last night, and was up EXTRA early to try and beat the crowds. At 6:50 I was at our local Fire Department ready to cast my ballot. Waited just a few minutes in line, but when I got to the table the lady said "oh, we have had a lot of confusion over this, this isn't your polling spot, you need to go to the middle school." 

Okay....so off I go to the middle school (i'm not super familiar with which schools are which here, but I asked around and ended up at the middle school. To which I was greeted with "oh well this has caused a lot  of confusion, not this middle school the OTHER middle school".

Alrighty then strike two.

So off to the old middle school, yes sir-y bob. Finally the right spot. There was ONE person there besides me. I have a few theories as to why this was, but Im going to keep those to myself. 

I was determined not to vote a straight ticket, but to go through every single contest and pick the right person for the job. When it was all said and done, I voted Democrat all but one.

I'm ashamed to say that the one Republican I voted for was a very fickle decision. 

We have these CRAZY neighbors. They are just absurd, really. Anyway, they have had a HUGE banner of their pick for County Commissioner on their fence since JANUARY!!!! Not only is it the first thing I see every morning, the lady in the picture is wearing a giant cowboy hat. A COWBOY HAT!

So it just so happened that that was the last contest to vote for and I thought to myself, "I have looked at that woman's ugly mug for the last 11 months, and at this point I just want that face to go away."

She is a democrat...and her box was the only democratic box that didn't get checked. Shame on me I know, but I just couldn't do it. 

Three Toed Feet, and Bunny Eating Pumpkins

Halloween day...took a little convincing to get Amy to go along, but she ended up being a really good sport. We waited until the last minute (of course) and things were a little picked over by the time Ruby and I headed out Wednesday night to find costumes. 

There are four of us. Myself, Amy, and our staff, Eva and Ruby. Eva is about 5'10'' and an average size, Im 6', Amy is 5'2'', and little Ruby, well she is 22 years old, and 4'8''.

We wanted costumes that all four of us could be, a "theme", so we started at our local spirit store. We thought about all four ninja turtles, but Ruby could only fit in the kids version, which wasn't near as cute as the adults....so we vetoed that idea. 

When we moved on to the next store we found the PERFECT costumes. The Flintstones! Fred for Amy, Wilma for me, Betty for Eva, and PEBBLES for Ruby!!!!! We even found a plastic bone to tie in her pink wig! It was perfect, EXCEPT that they were out of "Wilmas".

So we had to make due and use a "Marilyn Monroe" white dress (that I shredded the bottom of) and two wigs. The first wig with the right bangs was an "Ariel" wig, but it was for kids, so it didnt cover all of my real hair. By the time it was all over, I had clipped the horns off an adult wig, and sewed the Ariel one on top of it. Follow that with some white spray painted wooden cabinet door handles, and Poof, Wilma Flintstone. 

All of the patients loved our costumes, and it was a really great day.

The bunnies were not NEAR as cooperative as I had hoped, but Miss Scarlett finally got too dang hot and just laid down. 

The poor baby had a pumpkin eating her head....how unfortunate. She was not liking our little holiday
tradition. 

Don't you already feel sorry for my future children?

Family Tumbleweed

Every time I start to tell Amy a story, it takes five times longer than it should. Why? Because every time I begin with "my ____ family member" we then have to go through who exactly that ___ person is, and how they are indeed related to me.

I was commenting yesterday that it really couldn't even be classified as a family tree anymore, it was more like a family shrub, or bush, a hedge even, and Amy so perfectly said "dear, you have a family tumbleweed".

Let me explain:

I am adopted, and am lucky enough to have a great relationship with both my adoptive parents (Dave and Kay) and my biological parents (Tom & Teresa). I found Tom and Teresa about 6 years ago, and it couldn't be any more perfect. All of my parents get along with each other, and conspire against me on a regular basis.

Here's where it starts getting a little tricky. None of my parents stayed together. Dave and Kay divorced when I was five. Dad re-married a few times since then, creating a veritable maze of step-mothers and siblings, and is now with a great little lady named Peggy. Since they haven't yet married, I classify Peggy's as my "Not quite Step Mother". She has two sons, which are my "Not Quite Step-Brothers".

Mom (Kay) remarried Kerry. Who has two kids, Megan(girl) and Dallas (boy) (but Megan isn't technically Kerry's). So that's a pretty easy one.

Now, Tom and Teresa didn't stay together either. Teresa is married to Lynn. Who has three kids from his previous marriage. Jamie (girl), Randy(girl) and Cody(boy) my step siblings on that side. Teresa never had any more children, so I'm it...which works out really well.

Tom married Deborah and had my three half-siblings, Anabelle(girl), Sidney (boy), and Sadie (girl). They are my only blood siblings (and the very last family I found). Our mothers couldn't be more opposite, so we don't look a thing alike, but we have some very similar aspects in our personalities.

So I have four sets of parents. Eight sets of grandparents. All of my parents have siblings which makes for an array of Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Step- grandparents, Step Aunts, Step Uncles, and Step Cousins.

And then there are the Ex-Step Monsters...errr Mothers (and their Ex-Step Families). "Ex-Step Sister-In-Law" was always one of my favorites.

The primary problem is that Amy's parents and siblings are all still married to their original partners, and she quite doesn't understand the difference between "Step" and "Half", and the other difficulty is that it doesn't all fit on one dinner napkin. (we've tried on several occasions to pass the time this way at restaurants.)

I had a pretty good map of it, at one point when I was trying to help my poor therapist, but I'm due for an updated version. I'm sure Ill have to have a clear one with pictures one for my children to be able to make heads or tails of it all.

To Amy's credit, she tries really hard. It throws her that a lot of them have names that could be male or female (ex. Kerry, Lynn, Randy), but for the most part, she can at least keep all of the parents straight.

Luckily we won't have to worry about wedding photographs...(your welcome Mom('s). )

Speaking of "two mommies", talk about needing clarification! HA!

P.S. Look for a "Genetics" post in the near future...I am really quite the little science experiment when it comes to the nature vs. nurture debate.

Holding Hands with Hillary

That's right, THE Hillary. 

I wasn't always a Hillary fan, in fact, I didn't know that all Democrats weren't Satan's warriors until my sophomore year in college.  

When the Presidential Primaries began, and there was talk of Hillary throwing her pantsuit into the race, I was thrilled.  Finally a woman with the chops to be President, and a real chance to make that dream a reality.

So imagine my incredible disappointment when she fell a  perfectly highlighted hair short of the nomination. I will vote Obama, but only if they don't leave me enough room on the ballot to write in Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Hillary made a trip to our Sun City during the Primary season, and Amy and I went to the Don Haskins Arena to see her with 20,000 of our closest friends. Needless to say we didn't even get close enough to see the color of her pantsuit without binoculars.

Last week, we got word that Hillary would be coming RIGHT HERE to our tiny town to stump for Obama. She would be speaking just down the street on Saturday afternoon.

Sleep was elusive Friday night, all I could think about was getting up, putting on my "Bitch is the New Black" shirt, grabbing my "Hillary is My Homegirl" sticker, and getting my spot at the speech.

Saturday morning that's exactly what we did (but Amy would NOT let me wear my "Bitch is the New Black" shirt) and when we got to the park, we were pleased with our spot. Not right in front of her, but pretty damn close. So we waited, about 2 hours (she was an hour late), but when she took the stage, it was electrifying.

After her speech, most everyone but the ones right up front began to leave and find their cars, but Amy and I decided to hang around and see how close we could get to Ms. Clinton. 

At first I was (frustratingly) about 4 people back, just far enough away from the front line that I couldnt get her...........attention ; ) 

 However, as I further surveyed the situation, I realized that if I hopped a strategically placed bleacher, I could tuck myself in the last little corner of the handshake line. 

I slid into position just before she she got to that point, and immediately shoved my "Hillary is My Homegirl" sticker over the lady in front of me, and right into Hillary's line of vision. When she saw the sticker, I reached out with my other hand, and she shook it and said "Oh I LOVE that!". I screamed "I know, do you want it?",  she hesitated, and finally said, "No, you keep it" to which I replied (all of this taking place over the two short people in front of me) "No, I have two", and as she grabbed it from my hand she said "then YES I want it!".

At this point she realized I still had a death grip on her hand and removed it from my grasp (with a little help from the secret service) and was rushed into her green SUV (WITH MY STICKER!!!!)

It was definitely a moment I will never forget, a highlight for sure. I would have loved to have had a picture with her, and my sticker, but I am tickled pink that I got to have a mini conversation with her and that she took my sticker. She looks great for all she's been through, and she is a woman who deserves so much respect. 

Feather's Challenge

Im pretending to be "tagged" by wishfulwriter and attempting the "7 random facts about yourself" post.

1. I have a really hard time saying "Well, I guess I better go" and it usually comes out "Well, I bess I getter go". Must be some weird nervous thing...or a mini-stroke..hmmm

2. Speaking of mini-strokes. I whistle completely out of the side of my mouth, like (yes, you guessed it) I have had a mini-stroke.

3. Speaking of mini-strokes (again) my mother whistles the exact same way. 

4. I have a new tattoo of Sarah Palin winking, on my ass. 

5. I have an obscene obsession with the skin on my elbows, and earlobes. I can't leave it alone. If you see me, you can pretty much bet I will have my hand on my ear or my elbow, especially if Im nervous...or bored...or happy...or sad....ok pretty much always. Might as well be sucking my thumb.

6. Speaking of sucking my thumb, I did it till I was 7. My parents tried everything from a retainer with a spike, painting my big o digit with that sour apple crap, everything. Know what finally worked? A nickel... for every half our I kept my thumb outta my trap. I wasn't stupid.

7. My all time favorite TV show is the old Get Smart. When I was a kid we didn't play tag, or hide and seek, we played Get Smart, theme music and all. I was ALWAYS 99 hello, first crush = Barbara Feldon. 

There....I'm officially tagging MixtapeJones, I'll be waiting Mister.

Literally Litterer

We encounter so many pleasant people every day at work, that it is so uncomfortable when we come across a rude one. Well let me tell you that is EXACTLY what I had the unpleasant experience of encountering today.

We were sitting at the counter working on billing, and the windows in front of us face the patio and the parking lot outside. The windows have a mirror tint so we can see out, but you cant see in from the outside. There is a pharmacy next to the clinic that is open on Saturdays so there was a fair amount of traffic this morning. 

An older hispanic woman got out of an SUV and headed into the pharmacy. As she came out, she had a paper towel in her hand, and we watched as she threw it down literally (no pun intended) three steps from our HUGE trash barrel. I could not believe my eyes! What an example for the three kids in the car. 

So as they were backing out of their parking spot I marched out right in front of them, picked up her litter, and placed it (a little harshly) in the trash can. 

Want to guess what the grandma and family did? Did they apologize? Did they hang their heads in shame? Hell no, they started CLAPPING. That's right clapping, and laughing, out loud with the window down. 

Karma dude....Karma.

I learned early how to be good at Therapy...

Four years old and at the movies with my Daddy. Days don't get any better than that. It was the brand new, uber advertised, Disney movie of the year. 101 Dalmations, opening day, and I was so excited I could hardly keep from throwing down my Rainbow Brite doll and sprinting in the theater. 

One teeny tiny problem.

 Cruella DeVille was FREAKIN scary. Not just creepy, or spooky. I was terrified to the point that we had to leave half way through the movie. I could NOT stop crying and thinking about those poor little puppies (and that hair).

Problem number two. 

Months afterward I was still appearing next to my Daddy's side of the bed in the middle of the night saying "Daddy......can we talk about Cruella?"

A Birthday Wish

Ms. Martinez (name changed) had a birthday yesterday. 

I met Ms. Martinez for the first time about a year and a half ago. She was 88 lbs, and so dehydrated we couldn't find a vein to stick. All of her hair was gone, and she had an old floral scarf wrapped around her little head. Her eyes were completely sunk in, and she could barely stand to greet us when we walked in the room. (No matter WHAT we said, and how hard we tried, she ALWAYS stood to greet us when we came in). The most disturbing thing about Ms. Martinez was her color. Let me tell you, we see lots of "colors" on a daily basis, but Grey is not one of them. Her little body was so poisoned by cancer, and the chemo, that she was literally grey. 

We immediately fell in love with this little lady. No matter how sick, how nauseated, how frail and tired she was, she was always the picture of kindness, and there was always a sweet sparkle in those sick eyes. She spoke Spanish only, and mine wasn't that swift at that point as I hadn't been in El Paso very long, but she made me feel like I came straight from Mexico City. She would sit patiently while I found the right (or close to right, or flat out wrong) word, and then speak extra slowly so I could have a shot (be it a long shot) at understanding. 

Last week I came across her chart while up to my nose in paperwork, and just happened to notice that her birthday was October 6. That evening, at the grocery store, I ventured into the Spanish language card section. It was at this point that I realized that I know absolutely NO proper Spanish. It became very apparent to me that this was not going to be as easy as I thought, so I started with the pictures and narrowed it down to, oh, about twenty. I moved on to words I knew like "esposo, esposa, hermano, hermana, hija, hijo", "husband, wife, brother, sister, daughter, son, etc.... And then there were four. So I picked the two "prettiest" ones and decided to have one of the girls at the clinic "censor" it  in the morning and translate so I could pick one.

Turns out they were both sweet and appropriate (pure luck) and we chose the one that said something like "If the sun is bright,  the breeze is pleasant, and your day is perfect then my wish for you on your Birthday has come true" (definite paraphrase) and then had a little verse from Proverbs at the bottom. It was SO SUPER cute, we all signed it, and I made lots of little hearts on the envelope. 

We pulled up to Ms. Martinez little apartment, and it could not have been a more beautiful day for her. After we opened the gate (and avoided the neighbor's dog) she spotted us and was headed down the front steps to greet us. I have to say that she smile on her face when she saw the card was one of the most rewarding sights I can remember. She was THRILLED! She was full of hugs and kisses and " Gracias' " and was so surprised to see us. 

She took us on a tour of her three room apartment. Not three bedroom, three room. Her living/bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom, all full of knick-knacks, pictures, rosaries, crosses, and knitting. She was so proud to show us her sweet little "casita". 

It will be  forever a sweet memory in my mind and heart. You see it was an extra special birthday for Ms. Martinez. For the first time in four years her cancer is in remission. She is 113 lbs, has her beautiful little head of hair back, her natural tan color, and those bright eyes that never gave up.