Doggonit, Give Me Some Directions that Make Sense

            I’m not good with directions.  In fact, I’d have to improve considerably to even be bad.  Useless terms like left, right, North, South, East, and West annoy me.  If people actually expect me to get somewhere, they need to be more specific.  “Turn off the interstate at exit 5.  Go the opposite direction you’ve been going and go three streets past Brookshire’s.   Drive just a minute or so and you’ll see a restaurant with the big cow in the parking lot.  Don’t turn there.  Drive to the next red light and turn on the street that turns between the WaWa and that hardware store with the inflatable lumberjack.  Watch for the ugly house with the silk flowers in the bucket of that tacky wishing well.  Pass it up, but now you need to start driving pretty slow.  You’ll see a big, old white house with a deep porch and all those ferns, kind of like the one Grandma lived in at Houston, the one where the woman living upstairs tossed her dirty mop water out on my head when I was sitting on the sidewalk playing. Boy, did Grandma have something to say to her!  Remember, it was just across the street from that big, old funeral home.   I just love those old houses, but I’ll bet they are expensive to heat.  About six houses down on the other side, there’s a little, blue house. I believe it used to be gray. If you look hard, you’ll see an old rusted out 1950 GMC like Aunt Ada and Uncle Junior used to drive, up on blocks way off to the side of the shed.  Remember how they used to toodle around with all those mean boys bouncing like popcorn in the back?  Anyway, our house is the yellow one with the big shade trees just across from it.  You can’t miss it. There’s a bottle tree out front.”

            Now I can’t miss with those directions.

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Reblogging this kind post from Bzirkone. Please give her blog a look!/

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IMGP8571 Giving me the hairy eyeball

Several months ago my youngest daughter graduated nursing school and moved 500 miles from home to work in a hospital.  Soon after she started the job she became more and more anxious about her new career.  She worried that she’d made the wrong decision with nursing.  The patient/nurse ratio was overwhelming, the other nurses were proficient and confident while she second-guessed everything she did.  A few doctors were demeaning and condescending and she started calling home every couple of nights with increasing panic.

I encouraged and consoled and used my best confidence-building pep talks during these calls but I worried.  I was out of my league here. I could no more be a nurse than fly to the moon.  I lack empathy. I mean I have plenty but it wears out pretty quick.  womanwtfPlus, there’s the whole blood, vomit, urine, feces issue.  My husband’s morning…

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