sharpchick_2011: (Default)
I love photography.

And a few months ago, I ran onto the neatest theme in photography blogs.

Daily snapshots in a city. A lot of the bloggers use the word daily in the title of the blog. I empathize with the blogger who acknowledges that real life intrudes sometimes, and uses the word "occasional" in the blog title.

Almost all of them have sidebar links to other similar photo blogs.

Here are some of my favorites:
Brisbane Occasional Photo

Daily Dublin

Oakland Daily Photo

Hyde Daily Photo Volume 2

Mornington Peninsula Daily

Very cool that I can get a glimpse of the everyday sights in cities all over the world.
The past three days have been alternately rainy and cloudy here.

I love it. We had a killer summer - not just here in Arkansas, but all over the country, with the worst drought some of us have seen in decades. Yesterday was a perfect day for graving. (Hit up Graven Images to see what I saw.)

It's also a sign of the cycles, and reaffirmation that with or without us, they go on...
The journey is good.

Sight-seeing side trips from my couch are delightful extras - especially when I can't sleep at 4 a.m.

sharpchick_2011: (Romani q of s)
This sideroad on the journey - the one with the RSD - has turned, probably predictably, into a saga.

In which I pontificate... )
Every time I think things have toned down to a dull roar at work, I should know to get vigilant.

Because Something Will Happen.

Like the sexual assault - patient on patient - of a woman at ASH. A woman with developmental disabilities.

I am so tired of that kind of shit.

I don't care if it only happens every year or so.
The cottage felines have gotten used to having me in the house more often.

And the guys are getting positively canine-ish. They follow me around the house and settle within a few feet of me.

Bathroom included.

The female bettas in the community tank are as houseproud as Frick is.

You never know when a betta killer might
be disguised as a thermometer

The girls even brush against me - just curious, or asserting authority, I cannot tell yet - as I am vacuuming the tank when I do water changes.

The rasboras flee to the other side of the tank - in a shoal.
The journey is good.

sharpchick_2011: (Cat with lime)
The week did not start well.

Listen to me blather on... )

The journey is good.

Sometimes, you just have to hang on for the ride.

sharpchick_2011: (Caddo solar cross)
On the way to work this morning, I saw movement in the little window where I see my odometer.

A message was flashing.

Service traction control

Just for good measure, the appropriate icon lit up, a little further left on another panel.

It was followed by another - different - flashing message.

Service brake assist

It has a glowing icon, too - located waaay off to the right of all the other action.

Because I ain't already bleeding money... )

The journey is good.

Sometimes the pain - whatever its source - is some kind of fierce.

But the journey is good.

sharpchick_2011: (Caddo solar cross)
I haven't been around here much lately - or anywhere else for that matter.

Late at night two weeks ago today, I made what could very easily have been a fatal mistake.

I emerged from it with a shattered left wrist, a whole bunch of bruises and scrapes, and a totaled car.
You know what "they" always say about what NOT to do when you feel the tires on one side of your car start to leave the pavement?

You're not supposed to jerk the steering wheel in the opposite direction.

I did, and my small Kia SUV and I rolled over. The 11 year old airbags deployed.

I landed upside down. It took a few seconds for me to figure out that I was not going to be able to unlatch my seatbelt with all my weight dangling from it. I had to find a foothold to raise my body up enough to unlatch the seatbelt and fall to the roof.

I reached up to try and get the keys - that's when I noticed my left wrist was at an odd angle, and hurt like a muthafucker. Couldn't get the keys out of the ignition, but found my purse. Crawled out the busted passenger side window.

And up the ditch to the road.

A car came up behind me shortly. The driver checked for oncoming traffic and went on his merry way.

I started searching my purse for my cellphone, because obviously, I was going to have to call 911 myself.

Couldn't find my phone, but did find my mini-flashlight, so I went back down in the ditch and searched with the light for my phone.

That's where the driver and two passengers of the next car found me.

They were absolute angels.

I regret that I didn't get their names.
So many silver many things for which I will be forever grateful.

My mistake only affected me and my stuff. I was alone, and didn't damage the person or property of anyone else.

My seatbelt and airbags did what they were designed to do. My injuries were amazingly minor when you consider the whole thing.

Although the Kia had been paid off for years, I still carried full coverage insurance on it, because - as I've told many incredulous folks when they asked - it's the only car I had, and if anything happened to it, I'd need to get another one.

It wasn't my dominant hand that was injured. (Surgery was last Friday - post-op check-up, removal of stitches, another x-ray, and orders for physical therapy scheduled for next Monday.)

I have - as many, many others do not - health insurance.
Now, for the lessons and musings...

I am living proof that this time, "they" were right.

You can shave your right armpit with your right hand.

Most jars and bottles can be opened with your right hand if you grip them with your knees.

If your bras have more than two hooks, just go ahead and buy some sports bras.

The cats' mournful wails will increase exponentially with the degree of difficulty you have getting the gawddamn ringtab top off the canned catfood.

Just go ahead and buy some Senokot-S when you are getting your scripts filled for whatever codone the doc gives you for pain - you're gonna need both...
The journey is good.

Sometimes you get a little wake-up call to understand just *how* good it is...

sharpchick_2011: (Troll)
I wonder if the ad execs for Academy Sports would shit a brick if they knew why I save their ads.


They make excellent placemats for the felines when they eat canned food...

Such slobs.
We had to do some minor rearrangement to the decor for Frick (red crowntail male betta) and Frack (blue veiltail male betta) when they relocated to a 10 gallon divided tank.


They were spending all their time flaring at each other through the divider.

To the exclusion of all else, including eating.

I do not have 20 minutes each morning to stand in front of the tank, muttering, Heads up dudes...bloodworms coming down...

Betta are pigs when it comes to eating, in my personal experience.

So when they quit eating, they are too stressed...
sharpchick_2011: (Default)
Amazing to me that so many of my personal tarot readings wind up with me represented by the Queen of Swords - either as a significator, or she comes up in the "what's hidden?" position of my three card readings...

It's not amazing that she represents me - except that her elemental correspondence is air, and my astrological elemental correspondence is water.

But she really is me.

Visually, she is a no-nonsense kinda gal - not the romance and floating kind of visual affect of the Queen of Cups (water), or the opulent and earthy appearance of the Queen of Pentacles (earth), or the poised on the edge, ready to get up and go redhead who is so often the Queen of Wands (fire).

Nope - by and large, most tarot decks illustrate the Queen of Swords as a dark haired woman (or she's gray but you can tell she used to have dark hair) with a deeply piercing gaze, and that sword - always at the ready to carve you up.

left to right: DruidCraft Tarot, Morgan Greer Tarot, Buckland Romani Tarot

Someday, I'll tell ya the story I spun about her when I first started reading and encountered her...and then looked over at my mentor, and in unison, he and I said...

She's Dee...

The journey is good.



Aug. 12th, 2011 08:23 pm
sharpchick_2011: (Troll)
My visual passion of late has been watching, from the beginning, the X-Files.

As it appeared on the teevee when my kid was not even a teenager yet and I was too busy running all over to be able to sit down and catch it, season by season.

I am totally fascinated. Getting ready to start Season 5.

My son has pronounced me weird.

And of course, it's not just fascination with the X-Files. Look at my media stand and bookshelves and you'll find my very own copy of Season 1 of Ancient Aliens, What on Earth? and a drop-dead-gorgeous coffee table sized book called Crop Circles, by Steve and Karen Alexander.

Because they'd want to communicate with us somehow, wouldn't they?


I *do* believe.

That leads to some interesting conversations.

Not with out-right naysayers. What would be the point? I have the office to rachet up the blood pressure when needed...

My favorite conversations go a little bit like this...

Skeptic: Well sure...intellectually, it would be ludicrous to think that humans on this planet are the only intelligent life out there. Even scientists and the holy Roman Catholic Church don't believe that. But...

Me: But what?

Skeptic: But, I mean, are they here now? Have they been here before and are just coming back to visit? I don't know about that...

And that thing about the crop circles...that was just all a hoax.

Me: So, all those precise mathematical calculations needed to make those circles in one night, unseen - that was all a hoax? Every single one?

And if - intellectually - we know that it's probable there is at least one group of beings out there who are probably light years ahead of us, why wouldn't they, like we, explore space, looking for other intelligent life? And when they found it, why wouldn't they, like we, want to find a way to communicate?
Those are the kind of conversations you can have literally all day long.

In fits and starts. Trading thoughts and possibilities.
The truth is out there.
sharpchick_2011: (Troll)
Since I live alone, I don't cook much any more. The bagged frozen entrees Stouffers, P F Chang and others make that you can throw in the skillet and heat up are great, and since they make at least two servings, I eat a good meal for about three bucks. And have left-overs for next time.

To be sure, nothing says Arkansas summer like a bacon sandwich with homegrown Arkansas tomato sliced on it. I leave the "L" outta that combo, because I am just not into L on any sandwich.

And it's gotta be Petit Jean bacon. If they are out of Petit Jean, after I give the meat guy a stern talking-to, I'll grudgingly settle for Wright, but it has to be think sliced smoked bacon - none of that sugar cured stuff.
Every once in a while, I do cook - usually something that will guarantee left-overs, which I can take to work for lunch, or freeze to reheat later.

My cats always like it when I cook. I have lots of feline company in the kitchen when I'm cooking.

Of course, they'd love it if it was a pure meat, all protein affair.

Except maybe Tigger, who still - after 9 years of living indoors - hounds me for his little dab of yogurt when I eat a carton before bed.

I'll admit it's my fault. The first time he watched me eat yogurt and got all curious about what was in there, I scraped down the very last bit clinging to the side of the cartion, and let him lick the spoon.

He was hooked. He knows the *sound* of me taking the top off a carton of yogurt and comes running from where ever he may be at the time.

And sits, vulture like, as close to me as he can get.

And stares.

He doesn't move a muscle until he can hear the spoon scraping on the side of the carton. He knows it's about empty then, and there is no way in hell he's gonna let me forget his bite.

Yes, I created a little orange tabby monster.
Speaking of left-overs, I still have 4 Dreamwidth invite codes if there are any LiveJournal escapees who need them...I understand things got hairy over there last week.

Just say the word.
sharpchick_2011: (Cat with lime)
Hot. Fucking hot.

I don't care which town it is - it's just hot.

I can tell by the birds hanging out in the trees in the garden when the birdbaths are empty.

I'm filling them once a day during the work week, and at least twice on the weekends.

The birds thank me with song. As soon as the front door hits me in the ass, they are all over them, splashing away. (I have one on a pedestal and one on the ground...the mourning doves looked so exposed and uncomfortable perching on the elevated bowl, I gave them their own. Now the male cardinals like it, too.)

And every day or so, I stand with the nozzle for the garden hose set to that misty setting, and in about two or three minutes, the hummingbirds take me up on the offer - zipping in and out of the spray, not fighting at all.
Special delivery from the United States Post Office took on new meaning yesterday.

I had been expecting my $100 worth of DVDs from Amazon, coming priority mail.

Seasons 2 and 3 of the X Files and The Tudors.

Was glancing out of the living room window at my next door neighbor's grandkids playing in the sprinkler shortly after noon when something whizzed by the window, airborne.

Landed with a thump on the porch.

I opened the door and saw the box.

And the quickly retreating ass of my substitute mail carrier.

I'm all for economy of effort - especially in the heat - but we don't need to be hurling mah movies at mah cottage.

Postmistress and I will conference tomorrow morning.
*Do not* want to return to the office tomorrow.

But the madness at the Arkansas State Hospital continues, so I must.
The journey is good.

sharpchick_2011: (Troll)
It was another one of *those* weeks at work.

If you can believe it - and I have a hard time with this one myself - things are getting worse at the Arkansas State Hospital instead of better.

But the document gathering portion of the Medicaid fraud investigation is complete, and the Arkansas Department of Health is still on-site to see if the horrors I've described in my complaint to them warrant action against the hospital's license.

We continue to pressure Justice to come on down...

I got my subpoena for a TRO hearing from the attorney who has filed the class action against the hospital. June 16 is the day.

When my granddaughters were here last weekend while their daddy was on Grammy's roof, Jayden followed me into the woods to dump the wheelbarrow a couple of times.

At first, she was scared of the woods, so we went slow and I pointed things out to her - there's the nest for the baby cardinals in that shouldn't touch that plant, it's poison ivy...there's poison oak, and so on.

She was excited to discover a patch of honeysuckle in bloom, vines tumbling over each other in a riotous, scented mass.

Grammy, I can touch that one! I can even pick Daddy says so. Those are honey knuckles.

You sure can, Jayden...but I think you mean honeysuckle.

My Daddy says they are honey knuckles.

All righty then...honey knuckles they are.

Just had a visit from Comcast.

To pick up my equipment. The reason for my outage this past Tuesday was just as I suspected.

The tech doing the new install next door disconnected mine from the pole while he was installing the new service - my neighbor and I share a pole.

And the lead tech that Marsha sent out that night - there were two of them - couldn't wrap his brain around that possibility.

No...first he needed to rip through one of my perennial borders and get under my house to see what was wrong with my cable connection under the floor.

And was an arrogant SOB when I objected to that being his first course of action before he checked the connection at the pole.

I emailed Marsha - using my AT&T 4G, since I had no cable - while he was rooting around under the house and told her I was sending their damned equipment back with him, after he repaired his damage to my perennial border.

When he got out from under the house and went to check the pole, he then had to come into the house to admit I was right all along.

And was still a snotty little shit while he was doing it.

So I told him to go ahead and start unhooking the equipment, and to make sure and tell Marsha he was the largest part of the reason that $1,600+ a year just evaporated.

He refused.

Another email to Marsha to tell her to schedule that call for today.

And do not send Mr. Personality back to my house ever again.

Dish Network will be at the cottage for their install on Monday.

I was going to go with AT&T U-Verse, but I live literally on the wrong side of the tracks.

There isn't any AT&T U-Verse TV service out here. Although there is for part of my zip code...the part less than 3/4 of mile away from me, but on the right side of the tracks.

The chick on the phone for AT&T asked me to "keep checking back with them to see when it becomes available."

I laughed. She wanted to know what was funny.

I told her I figured that line was just part of her script, but I wasn't going to keep checking back, and the provider I selected would probably have a contract period similar to hers, so maybe AT&T ought to check back with me.

In a couple of years.

The journey is good.

sharpchick_2011: (Default)
My son gave me an early Mother's Day present yesterday.

He came over and mowed, used the weedeater, raked and cleaned up around the garden.

Okay, I did not let him get into my perennials.

But still...

Then, he climbed up on the roof, got all the pine needles off (which necessitated using the blower and rakes again), and spread five gallons of Silver Seal on the roof.

I got to see my chicklets, too.

Water's still creeping up on land in 22 Arkansas counties.

This flood could well rival the Flood of 1927.

I've spent a lot of time in the garden this weekend.

Friday evening, I caught this guy chasing the hummers away.

The clematis by the front door must have loved being smothered with ice and snow this past winter.

Did a little reading of internet news and commentary earlier.

I cannot find it again, but ran across a political commentary about Sarah Palin that made me laugh out loud.

Taking off on her Twitter feed where she chastises the President for not making the photos of Osama bin Laden public...

You know, with his head practically blown off?

She says Obama should complete the mission. The commentator reckons how Ms. Palin knows a lot about completing missions - after all, she completed her gubernatorial term in Alaska in about half the time it's taken other Alaskan governors...

The journey is good.



sharpchick_2011: (Default)

May 2014



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