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Sunday, March 17, 2024

IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES....!

Despite all my good intentions, I failed, yet again, to finish my post! Had we not lost an hour last Sunday, and if it was not Mother's Day is almost all of the world apart from here, it is possible I may have achieved what I set out to do, but time marched on, and the word, "Tomorrow" stayed in my mind all week.  "I will get it done tomorrow", and as the song says, "Tomorrow is just a day away!" The problem is that it is always a day away!  However, another famous quote is that "Tomorrow never comes".  The riddle, "What is always coming but never arrives" can be added to the list of very poor excuses.  The fact is, I failed!  The other fact is, my week, the week before last, was quite amusing, thought provoking, and perhaps, 'Blog worthy'.  I will leave it to you, the reader, to decide.

Let's start the week before last.  I didn't swim.  It was too cold.  I cleaned the pool, I read for three hours, as my book was a real page turner, and I could not stop, but venturing past my knees into the water, was just not going to happen.  I could have, and there would have been a time when I would have, but I was quite pleased that I did not feel the need!  Suffice it to say, I spent the afternoon just doing very little!  It was Sunday and I was 'resting'.

Monday morning started quite differently.  Dana had an appointment at the VA.  It was a follow up, and I wanted to go with him, as it was a 'follow up'.  He had been before for a 'general' visit, and Edward had accompanied him, but I wanted to go, not least to see how he was doing after the crazy episode at the end of last year, but to experience this amazing facility about which he talked!  Shallow, maybe, but I have heard 'horror stories' about veterans and experiences with the Veterans' Affairs offices.  

The journey did not take as long as I had expected, considering we were going to be encountering early morning traffic, but there appears to be no real 'clocking on' time now.  People work from home, or mosey in when they feel like it!  We arrived in plenty of time.  The building, itself, was rather large, and as one man pointed out, it was a great improvement on the shack they used to have and if you needed to see a specialist, you had to travel to another location.  We entered and walked down the hallway to the optometrist. They were nowhere to be found, so we walked back again to the reception area, where we were told where to go.  "Next level" said the helpful person at the desk.  

The building was very clinical, as would be expected.  It was very bright.  It was very large.  We headed to the 'next level' where we found the optometrist, made an appointment, walked back and checked in.  Everything about the place was run with precision.  If your appointment was at nine, you were called at nine!  There was a sense of camaraderie that is not often seen.  Older veterans were never given much respect because their duties involved serving in places where a lot of the population felt the government had no right interfering.  The fact of the matter was that a soldier (in any area of military service) had signed up to protect and serve, and did what they were told, and went where they were assigned!  Conflicts were not their fault, not started by them, nor did they decide when they were 'over' but they chose to give up so many years of their lives to do it. They wanted to protect and serve, and if their government chose to put them in places where others felt they should not be, then it was part and parcel of the job!  Conflicts are not started by those who take an oath to protect and serve!  I shall stand down now, but will take my soap box with me as I feel it may be required again!

As we waited for the 'call', I watched as men and women, of all ages, some in uniform, most not, came and went.  We chatted to a couple of women, one older and in a wheelchair.  She had been in the marines.  She 'joined' in 1965, and although was told not to volunteer for anything, volunteered for everything.  However, she was a woman, and the only women that saw combat of any sort, were nurses.  She was in administration.  She still served her country and put her life on hold.  Her daughter, who was with her, had been on active duty.  She served in Baghdad.  Again, no matter your opinion, she went where she was assigned, and I was grateful for all those who were at this facility, as they were willing to die for me! Although she was willing to sign up for another 'tour', she did not, as her husband sent her a 'dear Jane' letter and threatened to relieve her of her parental rights of their children.  (Soap box comes out again.)  I was devastated.  No matter what your differences, you married a solider!  If you have 'irrevocable' differences, then so be it, but when your 'soldier' is putting their life on the line, for others, to threaten such an action is, in my opinion, awful!  (I could use stronger words, but it is just my opinion.)  The fact the 'parent' puts others first, and not just their kids, may seem to be a little off-putting to some, but as I said, "You married a soldier!"  Of course, there could be mitigating circumstances; abuse; neglect; but as the woman to whom we spoke 'won' her girls, and they are still willing to be with her, and near her, (they stick close together,) it would appear that it was merely an 'irrevocable' relationship between the adults.  I felt my mouth open and had to stop my jaw from dropping too far.  I know it sounds selfish, but thankfully my husband was called before I started to cry!

Before we left the building, we went to 'enrollment' where we met and chatted with another veteran, and mutual admiration was exchanged.  There was a 'travel' kiosk, which I (naively) thought was an 'agency' rather than a 'refund of fares' opportunity.  

We headed back home, and I was quite overwhelmed with the experience.  A place for people who had fought, or not, but were willing to do so.  A place where others understood what you went through.  A place that honoured those who should be honoured.  Being married to a 'vet' has given me a new understanding, and I am very grateful to those whom I met, and all those whom I have not. (Soapbox back in the corner).

Despite the late arrival at the office, I was not pressured.  Things had been put into perspective.  I worked for as long as needed and went home, ate dinner and eventually went to bed.  Did Jack Nicholson's character in 'A Few Good Men' have a point?  A discussion for another day!  Have I lost readers?  Oh well!

"We are looking to serve someone in the Carolinas, not sure if it is North or South, but can you help us?" came the soft Scottish accent over the phone.  I replied that we could and she continued. Apparently, an old client who was lost due to a paralegal shift (as is often the case) had been told by her current process server that they were unable to help.  After ironing out the particulars, she said, "Where are you from?"  I responded, "North West London, and I was about to say, you sound like you are from out of town". She told me she was from Scotland, and it was so nice to hear a 'British' accent! As patriotic as the Scots are, and as fiercely loyal to being 'Scottish', when confronted with a fellow Brit overseas, we are once again, a United Kingdom!  We chatted back and forth about Austin, and how we both got homesick on occasion, but enjoyed the city, and then said our farewells.

My day continued.  I spoke to the lady several times, as there were some problems with her papers, and I pointed out what I knew to be wrong.  She was most grateful, and said that she was new at this, and obviously, I had been doing it for many years.  I eased her mind by letting her know that many attorneys do not know the rules when it comes to civil process!  I said that my husband was known as the attorney's attorney and had probably forgotten more than I would ever know, and waited for the corrected papers

Finding process servers in rural parts of the state is sometimes an ordeal.  Occasionally, I will have to put it in the hands of a Sheriff, but the destination of the papers from the Scottish lady was not an easy place like, "One of the Carolinas", but very remote part of Mississippi.  Instead of trying to find law enforcement in the area, I made a search for 'family' lawyers.  'Family' does not indicate they are all related, but those who deal with divorce and custody cases. One firm came out on top and I called them.  I explained that I had a 'family law suit' and wondered who they used to serve their papers. The lady on the phone (who was definitely a southerner) did not hesitate to give me a name.  I retrieved a phone number and left a message.

The logistics of our business can be stressful at times, but other times they can make me laugh.  I received a call from someone whose drawl lengthened by the word.   He would take care of my paper, for a reasonable fee, and did not require payment ahead of time.  He gave me his email address, and told me that he lived on 'Road' and then gave me the number of the house and street.  I found it very amusing.  

There was a sense of accomplishment when I sent my papers to the server, and continued to make progress with setting up others in very remote areas.  I had enjoyed that part of the job when Dana was in hospital, and whilst he said, "I would have....", my way did work!  Grant and I laughed at the fact that we went from being quite dynamic in our previous jobs/lives, to being basically man/girl Friday, and now we were more like the dynamic duo, although I think we are both probably Batman and Robin!  

As the weekend approached, promises of a cool down could be heard. It was quite warm and I received a message from our Chairman to ask if I had been swimming.  The water was 71 degrees!  I was tempted to ask, "Have you?" knowing that he would not so much as dip his toes below 80, but I resisted.  

My new Scottish friend called with an update, and some more information, which had been sent in an email as well.  It was rather amusing as the email was a 'reply all' variety, and I could see the 'back and forth' between her and the attorneys.  They were not anticipating the serve being straightforward as they thought the servee would perhaps try and avoid.  Not with my guy, I thought.  He seemed to sure of success!

Late Thursday afternoon, I received a call from Mississippi.  The respondent in the case was not at work, and had left early for the day, a most rare occurrence, so my guy was heading for the home address. He would call me once done!  I wondered if he was as good as he thought he was, and if he could penetrate this fortress that was apparently surrounding the respondent.  Sure enough, I received the call.  "I don't know if the picture came out good" he said.  I was a little shocked to receive a picture of the respondent with paper in hand, like a 'mug shot' of an arrested person!  It was the ultimate insult to injury.  "Here are your divorce papers, now pose, and smile!

It had been a particularly interesting week.  It was rather chilly on Saturday.  We decided to try something new for dinner.  Although we had been to this establishment before, we could not remember why we did not returns, as the menu looked fairly appealing and the pictures of food were quite authentic.  The last time, only time, we frequented the establishment, a guy proposed to his girlfriend.  There were only the four of us in the restaurant at the time.  It seemed time to try it again.  As we walked in, there were three occupied tables.  We looked at the menu, saw some bowls of steaming food being delivered to tables, and asked our waitress for a recommendation. She merely showed us the 'entrees' list.  Everything looked wonderful in the pictures, but the steaming bowls did not seem to be on the page.

We ordered, and waited.  The two initial couples left, and another man entered.  Two people came in to order 'take out'.  We waited.  Another four came in and sat by the door.  Another four came in and sat across from us.  The waitress ran around the restaurant, took the orders, and disappeared behind the half wall that separated us from the kitchen.  One of the 'take out' orders was completed, then the other.  The gentleman who came in after us was delivered a 'steaming bowl', and the four who were sitting by the door received an appetiser.  We signaled to the waitress.  We had been sitting for thirty minutes.  "I will get them to hurry", she said.  Another 'take out' order was completed, another appetiser was brought out, and finally, our dinner was placed before us. Mine was cold, as it was meant to be cold, and despite looking absolutely phenomenal, it was a little disappointing.  Dana's steak and steamed vegetables, despite looking every bit as appealing as on the picture, was cold.  The steak was like leather and unchewable!

Our waitress was very disappointed when we commented and asked if we would mind waiting two minutes for a new piece of steak to be cooked.  She appeared to be quite devastated by what had occurred, so we concurred.  I suppose we were either not in a hurry, or felt that the young lady would have broken down and drowned in her own lake of tears, but fifteen minutes later, a steak, in a 'take out' carton, arrived at our table.  It was hot, so they presumable only had only just taken it off the grill.  We paid our bill and left.  The waitress followed us out, almost on her knees, begging our forgiveness. It was a strange scene.  

Sunday morning we decided to go out for breakfast.  It was a nice outing, and we enjoyed our experience.  The Waffle House has never been known for its sparkling cleanliness, but that is part of the charm! We were greeted by the hostess, and sat at a table which sided on to the 'kitchen'.  I decided to have a waffle with my egg and toast.  It was not thick, but fluffy and quite good. The maple syrup was sticky, as it should be.  The jug that held the maple syrup was sticky, the ring it left each time I put it down was sticky!  The menus were sticky.  It was amazing!  The food was fantastic, as were the staff.  Although assigned a server, everyone was taking care of us.  Two ladies left as we were sitting, dressed as if they had been out all night, and cared not for modesty, and that was all part of the charm.  They looked as if they would be able to 'take care of themselves', if anyone should choose to use the excuse that 'they were asking for it'.  Perhaps I am being 'politically incorrect' on two counts here, but the truth should count for something!  I admired them for dressing as they sought fit, rather than according to old fashioned 'protocol'.  I remember my mother telling me I should not wear certain things, as I was vertically challenged and did not 'have the legs', which as a young girl was rather a devastating comment, but I stuck to what suited me, and only now do I sometimes veer from 'protocol'.  (However, not as far as the ladies leaving the restaurant!)

Sunday evening, we picked up some chicken went to Samantha as it was Mother's Day, as mentioned.  Edward had an appointment, and would be home later.  We left some chicken for him and came home. Another week was about to begin.

My Scottish lady contacted me on Monday to say she had another paper for the chap whom had been served last week, and could we take care of it.  Of course we could!  

Grant asked me about my weekend and I told him where we had breakfasted.  "I know the one" he said.  Apparently, he would go there early in the morning when working at his previous job.  "It is open twenty four seven, and there are a lot of 'gentlemens' clubs' around.  All the girls go there!"  I wondered!  Not to put a label on the two 'girls' I had seen, but it was a possibility.  I have no idea what time the 'clubs' close, if at all!  Perhaps I was being really politically incorrect and labeling the women without cause.  

Once again, March was as predicted.  Hot days, cold days, miserable days and sunny days.  Sometimes, all in one day! It was 'spring break' and also the music festival had started.  Samantha and I had decided not to take part in any form this year, and it bothered us not.  We found it interesting that it bothered us not!  We agreed that we had the best years!

Our schedule was altered as some of the agencies that receive papers 'downtown' were closing early, so their staff could leave without getting caught up in the 'snarl up' that becomes the norm when roads are closed, and would be able to leave their building without being stopped and told they cannot drive along their exit route!  I am sure 'the powers that be' have developed a more realistic way of organising the traffic over the past ten years, but then again, perhaps not!

The week was not as busy as the one before, although I did have a dental appointment.  It all went very quickly and without incident. The kind I like!  My fella in Mississippi once again served my papers, and got another picture. This time the respondent seemed to be laughing.  Maybe he was told to!

Each day, I opened my laptop and typed a little bit more. "Tomorrow" I said to myself.  It never happened!  

Storms dictated my weekend.  I was quite excited by the fact that the plants I had planted last year from my own seeds, that had not produced, were suddenly blossoming, a year later and tomatoes were being born by the day!  I also noticed that the pepper plant that had been dormant, suddenly had buds for flowers.  Perhaps, like a dough 'starter' it takes longer when it is done from scratch!

Saturday saw some rain, but not enough to quench the drought, but the storm on Saturday night, Sunday morning was quite prolific.  Thunder boomed for an hour during the small hours, and I could hear the hail splatter against the windows.  The debris was almost non-existent on Sunday morning but the pool was rather messy.  All the little catkins had dropped from the tree, and were clogging the skimmers, as happens this time of year.  

Finally, despite 'Tomorrow' not being here, I can publish this post before the next 'Tomorrow' becomes 'Today'.  I have no idea what is on my agenda for the rest of the day, as the weather is still quite turbulent.  Perhaps I will be 'on top' of things next week.  Watch out, there may be ........... another story!

Sunday, March 3, 2024

I AM WHO I AM......AGAIN!

It is not that my life is so exciting that I forget to post, but that is quite literally what happened last week.  I do not have a memory issue per se but it was a beautiful day, and I wanted to take advantage of the warmth before the sun took its dive at the end of the afternoon.  I did get in the water, despite it being a little too cool, and splashed for a couple of seconds, before coming out again, regaining my nerve and swimming ten strokes.  Only ten, as I could not feel my limbs, and breathing was not as even as it should have been.  If I had continued, it probably would have levelled out, but I did not really see the point.  I do not have to prove anything to anyone, despite everyone trying to prove to me!  Challenges are often set before me, but I do not take them up, as I don't care!  Callous as it may sound, it really is not.  I do not have any need to show prowess in anything.  I am who I am!  It has taken a long time to learn that!


The 'bank holiday' two weeks ago was quite busy.  "Grant isn't in today.  Can I help?"  Going into work was meant to be for 'catch up' purposes, but despite the note on the emails to say we were not open, the conversation takes on the attributes of a vicious circle!  If you are not open, why are you there?  Why are you calling if you know we are not open?  If you are not open, why did you answer the phone?  The latter is a perfectly plausible question.  I have often heard the question, "Why are they emailing me at seven o'clock on a Sunday evening?" with my answer being, "Why are you checking your emails at that time?"  However, I digress.  Grant was not in the office as it was a national holiday.  The horror was quite obvious.  "I can help you".  Yeah!  Right!  The only person who is working is the English woman, who can't know anything!  After all, she is working on a national holiday!

Admittedly, if it was going to be a hot afternoon, that would have been better spent with my book in the sun, I may not have been in the office when the phone calls were most prolific.  "So, what are you, just the answering service?" came the question.  I responded that I was not, and I could probably be of assistance.  After the barrage of insults, and belligerent comments, came the compliments.  "I love your accent.  Where are you from.  I could listen to you all day!"  "Why, thank you, ma'am", I did not say.  She didn't want to hear that.  "That's mighty nice of you, gov'nor", or "Ta missus!" may have been options, but instead, the King's English was used and then, once I had her attention, I answered the question she had called about.  Shock and horror could be heard, as she said nothing!  I was at work, so I may as well work!

Again, I did not object to being in the office.  It was preferable to cleaning out my pantry, which I what I would have probably done if I had not been behind my desk.  Presidents' Day is never a holiday where I tend to do anything exciting.  Perhaps go to the mall, (yawn,) or to some specialty stores, (yawn,) or stay at home because the weather so dictates.  Doing something practical seemed like a good idea.  After all, it is not my holiday, although after twenty years, I should feel as if it is!  It is also the last national 'vacation' for three months, so taking advantage may have been sensible.  

What was more amazing than finding out people were shocked for allowing our staff to have the day off, was a call from a Sheriff.  Those who deal with our department of the law enforcement offices, are not open on a national holiday.  It is 'admin'.  At least that is what I have always been led to believe.  'Admin' take national holidays.  It is part of the 'office' package.  However, this one guy was rather eager.  "He said he aint the guy.  Do y'all have a picture, or a date of birth, or something that I can use to say, heck yeah you are!"  I love the different turns of phrase that come from different parts of the state, and country!  I can't imagine a British Bobby, in uniform, using the language that I am accustomed to.

The rest of the week ran into the weekend, and as set out in the first paragraph, I started to write with the full intention of finishing when coming back from my splash but clearly forgot!  What caused me to forget, believe it or not, I cannot remember!  It was not until Monday afternoon that I thought about it, and that was because I was sitting in the dentist's chair!  "Did you have a good weekend?  Did you do anything exciting?"  Um?  Oh!  I forget to finish my post!  

Although my penchant for the dentist is not favourable, it was all very generic.  Walking out thirty minutes later (or there about) meant it was all put behind me for a while.  There was a time when I considered dentists to be a little sadistic, looking forward to inflicting pain, but nowadays, it seems to be about 'prevention' rather than 'cure'. As my sister says, it must be one of the most hated professions! Why would you want to train for years to be the most hated person!  However, perhaps it is not the case now.  Maybe it is an age thing!

The 'answering service' took quite a few return calls this week, mostly from Sheriff's or Constables, whose services I required in the deliverance of documents.  When they asked for me, and I stated this  was me, they all made a strange sound.  Not all made the same sound, but it equated to either surprise, or confusion.  Once I stated my reason, and appeared to be quite au fait with the system, most warmed up and were very helpful.  

Occasionally, I am taken aback by Texas, and Texans.  Being
'professional' has little to do with speech or attire.  I learned that when an attorney presented some papers to a judge in a courtroom, wearing a pair of very dark jeans and a white unbuttoned shirt.  (The Attorney, not the judge!)   It was smart, yet too casual for a British courtroom. However, a British courtroom would have a barrister, and not a lawyer pleading a case in front of a judge. (For the most part!)  "Yes, judge!" rather than, "Your honour!"  All this to say, I had to call our bank this week, and once I had answered the 'security' questions, the person on the other end simply said, "Thank you, hun".  Perhaps it is acceptable now in my homeland, but it wasn't when I left.  It is interesting to feel as if I have 'scored' on one side of the ocean, but would have felt a little insulted on the other! Everything is territorial. 

My car sped up the hill.  It was as if she had been given a 'transplant'. I could not believe the vigour she appeared to have, and I could almost hear giggles from the engine.  I called the mechanic to say thank you!  He was a little surprised, but grateful I called.  "Two reasons. We don't always get a thank you, and now I know who to get to work on mine!"  That sounded like a good deal!  I have no idea what the cowboys who worked on mine over the years did to her, but it was not a good job!  

March, as they say, comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb.  Not here!  March just comes in!  As cold as it was on Thursday, it was a balmy day on Friday, with a slight breeze, and lots of sun.  With an extra day in February, I was given some respite.  For some reason, to me, the new month is so aptly named.  Time does march on.  I do not know why but the year loses its newness and everything seems to speed up!  Perhaps it is a 'programme' that I have written inside, or perhaps it just is!  Suffice it to say, we hit the new month at the end of the week, and time just seemed to sail by!  

Despite time marching on, and the fact that I have been here for two decades, it is still impossible for some people to think I am anything more than a voice!  Those who have dealt with our company for a considerable time, still find it hard to believe anything I say.  Perhaps it is because they think I just don't know, or perhaps they just listen to the accent and don't hear what I have to say!  However, some are quite eager to hear my answers.  I received a call from an attorney in Connecticut, who after talking to me sent an email containing documentation for delivery, and saying that I, yes, me, had been 'highly recommended' and I, yes, me, got 'top marks' from one particular paralegal at the firm that gave said recommendation.  It was quite the moment.  It was a proud moment!  However, it was soon taken away by someone who has no idea of how the industry works, and explained the 'rules' to me like I was a child learning how to read!  I did not tell him that he was completely wrong, and if it came to it, I could testify before the judge, "Yes, judge.  This is ineffectual because.....".  I wonder what the judge would think!  This too, I take not personally.  A comedian here has a catchphrase, "You can't fix stupid!"  I rise not to the challenge when I am given a dressing down by someone who thinks I cannot know, but who in fact, knows little themselves. The joy of being an Alien!  Yes, that is my official title!  ET does only stand for Extra Terrestrial, but Emigrated Tracie!

All in all, this post can be taken negatively or positively.  I choose the latter!  There comes a time when it suddenly hits you that it really doesn't matter, in a lot of cases, what people think you know, don't know, purport to know, or not.  If you know, you know!  I had a good teacher!  I also did my homework!  

Another round of reading, and catching up on fictional espionage (or is it) and a toe dip in the cold water, will finish off the weekend nicely.  Perhaps next week I can deliver a more humourous account of the woman who sits back quietly in the wings, unless someone ruffles her feathers, in what I hope not to forget to be ..... another story!

Monday, February 19, 2024

ORANGES ARE THE BEST FRUIT!

"What is a Clementine Cake?" asked Grant.  I assumed it was an orange flavoured dessert, or tea time treat of which I had not heard.  "It is in the movie, Walter Mitty!  Can you make it?"  The challenge was set!  Could I make this delicious offering?  There was no way I could  make it with clementines as they are out of season, but there were  several options which would, possibly, suffice.  Sunday, I got baking!

The week started off quite pleasant.  Although the mornings were cool, the afternoons started to heat up, and coats that were worn at the beginning of the day were carried out at the end.  Spring can't make up its mind in February in Austin.  Sometimes it is here, and sometimes it is not.  Three years ago, it was definitely not, as the memory of the 'great freeze' stirred again, and horror stories about the loss of amenities was once again revisited.

I called the mechanic on Monday morning, to find out what had happened to my car.  They had been 'working' on it for some time and I was now beginning to get a little concerned.  Visions of someone using it to get to and from work, whilst their vehicle was out of action, flooded my mind, or perhaps it had been mislaid.  It appears that the parts did not arrive when they said they would, or at least the correct parts.  It was a saga.


My 'old lady' had gone in for an inspection at the latter end of the year, and I had been given a list of things that really should be done.  The price was reasonably hefty but the more I drove the little vehicle, the more I realised it would be a good idea to just go ahead and bit the bullet so to speak.  I had called the establishment a few weeks prior, and spoke to the 'enthusiast' who had done the inspection.  He said he would 'work with me' on the price, and managed to get it down by a considerable amount.  When the manager called back, around three weeks ago, the price was even less, so I told them to go ahead.

Much as I trusted this particular franchise, the calls stopped coming in, and I was chasing them up.  "Should be ready today or tomorrow" I was told.  At the end of last week, I finally spoke to a manger, who admitted that the parts that had been received were not correct, and they had to send them back.  The correct bits had taken longer to arrive than anticipated.  "Please just keep me informed!" I requested.  I did not want to have to keep calling.  My patience was wearing a little thin!  

Clementine or no clementine, the cake was rather a success.  In fact, although there were several variations on the recipe, the one for which I finally opted, was the one that apparently came from the film.  Having never seen the film, I cannot judge whether it is correct, or whether they show the whole process, or the final product, but the method and ingredients came under the heading "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty - Clementine Cake".  Apart from the lack of clementines, I followed it to the letter!  I would have claimed it as my own, perhaps, 'different orange cake' but that would not be entirely honest.  However, should anyone want to 'take a shot', there are alternatives!

I spoke to the mechanic on Tuesday.  He called and profusely apologised for the lack of communication, but explained, in great detail, what had happened.  He is prone to great detail!  When I dropped the car off, a few weeks ago, I was privvy to the domestic he and his wife had been experiencing over his own vehicle.  She had wanted him to sell, get a newer model.  I think he would have traded his wife in before his beloved motor!  At least that was the impression he gave; He was no doubt just letting off steam.  I do seem to be a vent for steam!

"In putting it back together, I noticed.....".  There it was.  Something else was wrong!  I was not surprised, as it appears that all the parts that were supposed to be replaced over the years, either were not, or doubtful alternatives were used!  I happen to believe the enthusiast as despite having said the work had been done, the car never seemed to drive any differently.  Apart from the original drive from San Antonio, many years ago, it has never really run up to par, after work was done.  I just assumed that age was the problem.  I was given a figure and as the final price was still far below the original quote,  "Just make her well, again!" I said.  "Oh, and let me know if you have any problems, please".  Promises were made, and the call ended.  

The cake was rather large, but it was eaten, all of it!  I was aware of a few 'adjustments' that would need to be made, should I go down the 'alternative' route again, but I do not think it will be soon!  Much as it was delicious, and different, I had looked in a couple of recipe books for something to do with the remaining oranges, and found a few desserts that should be made!  I am going to be busy!

"Your car is ready" I was told on Wednesday.  "I can't get a ride until the morning", I responded.  "Oh" said the man on the phone.  "She can't get it until the morning?" he said to whomever was within earshot.  "Not a problem.  Get it when you can", I heard from the enthusiast.  He was happy to let me get it when I could!

I was dropped off Thursday morning, and paid the bill, which again was less than I was quoted!  I got into the car, started her up, and headed back.  It was probably the best ride I had experienced since bringing it back from San Antonio.  I felt as if she was magnetised to the road, and had a 'kick' that felt like a young buck!  Or should that be Doe!  I was impressed!

We had our annual general meeting on Saturday morning, and thankfully it did not last too long.  Coffee and donuts were provided, and as usual, I drank too much!  Too much coffee that is.  I do not eat 'donuts', as they are not 'doughnuts' and do not enjoy the taste.  I went shopping afterwards, and then continued with my day.  

Glorious as the day looked on Sunday, the chill was in the air.  It dropped to freezing Saturday night, and I was not prepared.  The wind was high, and the skimmers were full.  

Monday is Presidents' Day, and I have not quite decided on what to do.  If emails are anything to go by, our note that we are closed has been totally ignored.  Perhaps I will start on my dessert list, Perhaps I will go for a long drive in my new car.  However, we may just decide to do something spectacular!  All will be revealed in ........... another story!

Sunday, February 11, 2024

I HAVE CONFIDENCE IN ME!

Sunday afternoon was glorious.  It was a beautiful spring day, despite being in the middle of winter, and I sat reading for an hour.  An hour was all I had because once the sun had left the patio, the realisation that we were still, technically, in winter, set in.  It became cool, and the wind was no longer the welcome breeze, but had a bitter tone that would make a child weep.  

I was happy to return to my house, and get ready for a night out!  When I say 'a night out', I do not mean bopping at a concert, or even an intimate party, but quite simply dinner with the family!  We had been planning a late Christmas dinner, as ours was spent in a hospital room.  Fun as our festive dinner was, and as delicious as it tasted, there were obvious restrictions, one of them being adequate seating and a menu from which to choose!  It was a nice change, and we were home long before most people started to head out!


Our 'office' party was Monday.  We do not have an 'office' party, usually, but again, the fact that we could not, whether it is the norm or otherwise, became a thing, and we headed out to the Brazilian Steakhouse.  Whilst extravagant, our local place has a 'special'.  The price is reduced quite drastically, and the offer of 'free dessert' is rather appealing, although we always end up taking it home, as the feast beforehand is always a little overwhelming.  

As mentioned, my confidence levels have returned to a near maximum load, and I have found myself being perhaps a little 'aggressive' in my attitude, albeit in a nice way.  A 'Mary Poppins' quality of 'firm but kind', and definitely practically perfect in every way!  

I stood at the extensive salad bar, picking strawberries out of the spinach salad, as requested by my daughter, for the baby, and a young girl moved up next to me.  She had the most amazing bright red, glittery, almost thigh high boots.  I could not resist a comment.  "Love the boots!" I exclaimed.  She stepped back, horrified.  What had I said that was offensive.  "Your boots.  They are amazing", came the comment that attempted to smooth things over.  She looked at her partner, who shook his head in confusion.  It was then that I realised, she probably did not speak English.  I was reminded of the time I spoke French to my daughters 'exchange' student, offering to put her clothes in the washing machine, when in fact, I suggested I gave her a bath! Rather than let sleeping dogs lie, which probably would have been the more sensible option, I smiled, pointed to the boots, and made a circle with my thumb and forefinger.  Her partner said, "Ah" and nodded.  She still looked frightened. "Perfect, no!" he stated.  "Si, perfect!" I responded.  She gave a slight smile which was more of a sneer, and continued to walk the line!  Paying more attention to her appearance, and her phone, during their dinner, I understood that the comment from an old woman was probably more of an insult than compliment!  

The bill arrived, and my husband checked the total.  I asked what it was and he told me, "Not including tip", he said.  I looked and saw that a 20% charge had been added for a 'large' party.  Five people and a baby was not really 'large' in my opinion, but technically, one could presume we were six, as the high chair does take up an extra space.  However, the calculations seemed a little off.  I could not make out how they arrived at the figure for the percentage.  Whilst not unwilling to tip the extremely attentive wait staff, I was curious.  "It is added before the discount", said the waiter, very precise in his explanation.  Perhaps having the extra confidence is not such a good thing.  I dove into action!  "What discount?"  He pointed to the bill, which had the usual price of the meal, plus the desserts, and then the figure taken off.  "Those", he offered.  "They are not really discounts, are they?" I started.  "Your Monday night price is a set price, and you offer free dessert, so a discount does not apply.  If you advertise, 'discounted price, with discount for dessert', then it is a discount.  However, you don't."  My husband looked at the man who was just about to call over a manager and said, "It's okay.  Your staff are good. We will pay it".  Relief spread over the face of the offended.  "I don't object", I continued, "But it is a little dishonest."  I did not dispute it further, but felt that there could have been grounds.  Of course, a gratuity is optional, despite some people not understanding this.  If you do not get 'service' you are not obliged to pay for it.  In fact, a gratuity is an offering of 'gratitude' for something given that deserves recognition.  Now I am really going over the top!

We returned home with dessert in a box!  My weekly evening meals would not be a difficult task, as I had left overs from Sunday, and Wednesday night always leaves 'seconds' for Thursday.  We also had dessert catered!  Of course dessert is always a 'gratuity', not always given!

I headed to get my nails 'seen to' on Wednesday, but had to make a stop at the Post Office first.  It seemed a good idea at the time.  I left a little early and arrived at five past the hour.  The shutters were still down.  More people arrived, and the queue became quite long.  "What time is it meant to open?" asked one customer.  "This is the worst post office in town", stated another.  A young man came up to the window, and pressed the buzzer.  An employee opened the hatch door, and attended to the said gent.  "Is someone going to open?" asked a customer.  "Yes", said the employee and promptly shut the door.  Silence ensued.  Someone else pressed the buzzer and the same employee opened the hatch.  "What time are you opening?" asked another customer.  "When they can", came the response.  The employee returned a couple of minutes later, with a package for the man who had pressed the buzzer.  "Do you know when someone will open up?" said a customer.  "We are short of clerks.  They will be ready when they are ready"  I held my peace!  I wanted to say, "If only one person is here to open at the said time, then they should be there in time to open.  Even if it is only one person!"  I held my peace!

I left after waiting for twenty minutes, and headed across town.  Michele was going to be late.  I asked her if there was a post office nearby.  "By Michaels", she responded.  "?" I sent back. "East of there", she responded.  "?" I sent back.  "Whataburger" she responded.  I knew where she meant.  I headed across the road and eventually found the facility tucked away in the corner.  A woman shuffled out from the back and asked if she could help.  I gave her my package and asked if I could buy some stamps.  "I need some priorities too", I said.  For those who do not know the USA postal system, a 'priority' mail envelope is a letter sized card receptacle, that comes with a slogan, 'if it fits, it ships', and requires a stamp for a specific amount with the promise of 'priority' service.  When there are no inclement weather conditions, this has a promise of two days, sometimes next day delivery.  However, those who work for the USA postal system should be aware of this 'stamp'.  "I need some priorities too", I said.  "Huh?" said the oblivious clerk.  "Stamps", said I, and pointed to that which was on the package she had just processed.  "Let me ask", she said, and called to her manager.  "Dunno?  What?  We have postcards?" she offered.  "No", said the original clerk, sounding quite authoritative on the subject.  "Like this", she said, pointing to the stamp on the package.  "Aint never seen that", said the manager, and started to sift through a package of stamps.  "Here they are!" announced the clerk, and came back with a sample, rather than the stack I required.  I took what they had.  "You need to put those on your order", said the clerk to her boss.  "What are they?" said the manager.  I left wondering; How?

Nails polished, I raced back and continued working.  Another long day came to an end, and I headed home to eat left overs, and dessert!

We enjoyed chicken with a lemon and balsamic reduction on Wednesday.  Basically chicken with a sauce!  When did a sauce become a something other than a sauce?  Probably when shampoo and conditioner became 'product'!  A 'product' is something produced! A specific item has a name!  Putting 'product' on my hair, could mean anything!  There I go again, asserting my confidence in trying to get others to say what they mean!  In trouble I may get, but how much is the question!

I was glad to see the end of the week as it had been quite grueling, despite the lack of 'extra-curricular' in the kitchen!  Contests were entered, work was completed, nights out were taken.   Busy can equate to exhausting, no matter what form 'busy' takes!  I was not exhausted, just ready for some 'me' time.

Super bowl Sunday is upon us, and we do not have a 'dog in the hunt'.  Perhaps I will shout at the television, but one does not really need confidence for that!

I toned down my attitude towards the end of the week, although I was a little stern with my mechanic, or at least the young lad who answered the phone, and probably wished he had not, but all that will have to be explained, and remains for .......... another story!


Sunday, February 4, 2024

SWEET DREAMS!

It was an amazement that I could not find the words to complete a post last week.  I started several times, but found that most of what I wrote was not particularly interesting, or in my opinion, of little literary value!  I remembered that I had something of interest to impart, but could not remember why I thought it would be of interest!  Then I thought I would tell the story of my car, and how it had to be taken into the shop, and what transpired, but that too did not transport to the page as it did in the mind!  Perhaps another day!

The week started off quite positive.  I spent a goodly portion of Sunday afternoon cleaning out my sunroom.  Despite having washed a lot of pots and emptied the deadwood at the end of last year, I still had several plants that I had hoped would produce a late crop.  My spring onions (scallions) proved to be a late bloomer and my oregano plant has a mind of its own!  All possibilities had been brought inside during the freezing weather a couple of weeks ago, and were taken back out when the temperature rose.  Getting rid of a lot of deceased fruit shrubs took less time that the vacuuming of the grass.  Despite the sparseness of the garden, everything looked very neat and tidy by the time I had finished.  A good job done!

I went into the office on Monday raring to go.  There was a slight lull first thing, which was a blessing, but as usual, throughout the day it started to 'heat up'.  Leaving late has become the norm, and leaving at five seems very early.  We are not the only people in the building to work late, but most do not come in until later.

My knowledge was tested several times during the week, and once again, I was amazed at what I knew.  My confidence continues to grow as I no longer feel the need to double check with Dana as to whether my advice is legitimate.  I know stuff!


Samantha called me on Tuesday to say she was on her way.  Her and Edward were going to meet some friends after work, and she was leaving early; early as in around a quarter to six!  As she was on the phone, I received an email.  I had won a prize!  This, in itself, was quite exciting.  After Thanksgiving, I had stopped entering contests on a regular basis, as there was no time.  I started back when Dana came home.  Jerry had made a comment that the 'woman up front' had not been doing a very good job of keeping everyone supplied with prizes, and I had made some sarcastic comment about 'doing it yourself', all in jest, of course!  However, I digress.  I received an email to say that I had won two tickets to see Bryan Adams, with special guest star, Dave Stewart!  "I love Bryan Adams", she announced.  "When and where?" I was unsure how to answer, as I had planned on repaying the favour to Grant.  Every time he wins something, the deal is, as I entered for him, he take me with!  Thankfully, Grant had no interest in the concert, and was happy to let his work partner go in his place.  

I found Wednesday to be particularly taxing!  During his 'rough' days, my husband had lost his taste for a lot of food, especially favourites, so I decided to make his preferred dessert, which meant making pastry.  It took me much longer than I had anticipated and the clearing away took even longer.  My longing to go on a TV cook show really only hinges on the fact that someone will do the washing up, rather than to see if my skills are worthy!  We left the office early, or earlier than usual, and came home to a full house!  As I think I had mentioned, one of the things that was absent from both hospital and rehab was salt.  Salt could not be found in containers, sachets or any other receptacle on the premises.  They did have an alternative.  The sachet that was provided as a 'salt substitute' was basically pepper!  It flavoured little but burned the mouth so that you were not aware of the lack of salt as you could taste nothing anyway!  The said sachet was, therefore, quite good as an alternative to pepper!  My beef with peppers was enhanced by the 'salt substitute', and I used several sachets to achieve the desired affect.  Admittedly, I had other herbs and spices that counteracted the 'burning' but 'waste not, want not' as my mother used to say!  My husband enjoyed his dinner, and dessert, which was a good thing, as he would be eating left overs alone on Thursday!  

Leaving work early on Thursday was necessary.  Grant had commented that the turns in the car parks were a little tight, so Samantha asked if I could drive.  We headed out a little after six thirty and followed her trusty system, that took us to the venue.  Of course, the venue itself was inaccessible by car, and neither of us could remember the street on which the car park we usually use was located.  However, we turned where forced, and found a place to put our vehicle.  I drove around and parked by the exit, in case there was a mass exodus when we left, or in case we should break the habit of a lifetime and leave at the end!

Our seats were very good.  Not on the floor, but on the first level, with a great view of the stage.  A young woman came on to the stage with a backing group, and started to sing.  I thought I recognised the guitarist, and when he introduced himself as Dave Stewart, I was very excited.  The singer was apparently his daughter, and whilst none of the girls who sang were Annie Lennox, (a unique voice in my opinion) they all had a good sound.  They sang a lot of Eurythmic songs, and finished with 'Sweet Dreams'. I was ready to leave!  The main act would have to be spectacular to beat the 'opener'.

Bryan Adams came on to the stage with vigour and enthusiasm, and started to belt out many tunes.  He played some old and some new, which was a good mix.  We decided to leave before the end, because it was late, and Samantha had the additional drive home from my house.  "I am a mum now, and it is a school night", she said.  I thought Bryan may end with 'Everything I do, I do it for you' and that was the song I was waiting for, but I was willing to forego, as he had sang many favourites and Samantha had heard hers.  However, using the ladies before leaving was a very good choice.  "They are playing it!" my daughter announced as I exited.  We ran back and went into a section that was not ours.  "You can't stay here" said the lady at the door.  It seemed a bit silly not to let us just sit in the area for ten minutes, but the volunteers are very, very important people!  We adhered to her instructions and ran round to our section. We caught the best part, which was both singer and audience participation and a crescendo at the end.  

We left the theatre and headed to the car park.  Our inbound journey was interesting, as I had lost all sense of direction and could not think how to get home.  Samantha kept asking, "Do you know where you are yet?"  As I pulled into my car port, she asked again!

It appears that one of her friends was also at the concert, on the floor,


near the front, and she told her what songs she missed.  We cared not.  We had a great time and left at a good time.  Of course, it would have been good to hear some more, but enough is as good as a feast! 

Playing some of the videos the next day displayed the amazing sound quality and even more amazing performers.  It was a good place to 're-start' our concert season!  May the prizes keep flowing!  As Bryan Adams sang his song, 'Eighteen till I die", I thought of my age, where I was, what I was doing (e.g. being at a concert on a school night, watching a 'pop' star) and thought of the different life I lead.  I had made the comment when we left the venue, and told Samantha that Grant and I always discuss the prizes and how amazing it is to see all these stars, especially at no cost to us, but having the opportunity either paying or not!  She said "so the speech is a tradition as well then!"  I suppose it is!

Saturday was not the norm!  The 'Walking mums of Austin' were celebrating their 1000th walk.  I am not sure that the walk was actually their thousandth or whether it was just a celebration but as my daughter was co-opted on to their 'admin' section, she felt she should attend.  It was a five mile walk around the lake.  The attendance was very good, and a convoy of push-chairs (strollers) were pushed (strolled) and a very spectacular sight it was!  I was glad I went.  Along the way, we saw the 'Dance walk', which was quite the alternative.  Rather than just walking, they danced with a bubble machine and various tapers that they whirled and swirled.  Austin!

Once again, we are back at Sunday, and it is February. Whilst the sun is shining, the wind is quite strong and making it feel cooler.  It looks pretty but is a little chilly.  (No I am not starting a poetry blog!)  My week was rather amazing and back to the glory days!  I would like to promise another post next week, and believe I will have some things about which to comment, but as I have found out, nothing is certain! I have decided that perhaps I have to record rather than remember what I should do to make sure that there really is ............ another story!

Sunday, January 21, 2024

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE!

 It has been a while!  I noticed that I had written a post and not published.  It is highly possible that something was detected in the tone of my previous posts, (perhaps not,) but things were not quite as they should have been.  My husband, (my rock, my protector, my right hand,) had not been well.  Although he was better some days than others, and appeared to be quite okay some days and not others, he finally succumbed to something that caused him to be hospitalised the week before Christmas.  Despite various tests, the actual cause has still remained inconclusive, with perhaps one test still to come back, but whatever the something was, it caused him to almost 'shut down'.  Suffice it to say, all the problems the something had caused (perhaps this causing that, or that causing this, who knows) were treated and he is home, and raring to go!  Perhaps it will all remain a mystery forever!

My life, as you can imagine, was turned upside down, back again, and an hundred and eighty degree turn was made several times!  Of course, despite the drama that it was at the time, the comedy was a big part of the scenario.  Please do not judge me on what may seem frivolous, because I was commended on my attitude and cheery disposition.

Riding in the ambulance to the Emergency Room held a slight disappointment.  Perhaps it was not considered an 'emergency' ride, or perhaps, simply, there was no traffic, but the sirens that had blasted through our neighbourhood when the services were called, were not present during our journey.  It seems strange that this is what I recall from the trip!  Two neighbours had walked past as Dana sat in a chair, waiting the lift into the ambulance, and then another couple appeared, with my friend Cathleen appearing as she heard the commotion.  Upon the hug from Cathleen, I finally broke down, realising the severity of the situation.  Within minutes, my phone was buzzing with questions, and well wishing! 


Dana's daughter had come to our house, dialed 911 as I got together his personal items.  We sat together in the waiting room until we were called, and then waited for the initial tests.  She commented on what wonderful neighbours we had, and I had to agree.  All were asking what they could do to help.  Samantha and Grant arrived sometime later, and we all waited for him to be moved to a permanent room.  "Do you want to stay the night, or I can if you want to go home?" said Chara.  I was a little confused.  Stay?  Overnight in a hospital?  With an adult being the patient?  I remembered the struggle I had when Samantha had her wisdom teeth removed, being able to stay in the day room with her, let alone being able to 'stay over'.  Of course, things are different here.  Despite the affordable care act, this is not the National Health Service, and you are very much a 'paying guest'.   I said I would stay.  

This is Austin!  Suffice it to say (again) nothing is different in the hospital.  Austin remains Austin.  Samantha had packed me some clothes, and included my heating element to make tea, tea bags, instant coffee and a mug!  The first couple of nights, I was brought a cup of tea, but by the third, I had found the water fountain, and wandered around the corridor in my colourful Victoria's Secret pyjamas, (which reveal nothing,) my mug sporting a Union Jack, and my red tartan Christmas slippers.  "Good morning", I would chant as I encountered janitorial and day staff.  "Hey, love the PJ's" said one technician.  "I would love me a pair of them!"  I saw no need to correct the speech, as I was on her territory!

Samantha picked me up on the Wednesday afternoon, and I came home to replenish my clothes supply, take something out of the freezer for dinner, (I had found a microwave, on the first floor,) and then went into the office, which was being run very efficiently by Grant, Samantha, and Samantha's friend Cori, who had dropped everything to come in and help!  Many servers 'in the field' that we told about Dana, were offering to come to Austin to 'help out'.  I could not believe the level of assistance we were being offered and how kind people were!  Dana had been instrumental in setting up a few of their businesses and had sent them work in the early days, for which they have been forever grateful.  

As this was the week before Christmas, the 'official' details that needed to be sorted out, were difficult to negotiate.  Places were short staffed and also closing early for the holidays. Admittedly, it was not until the Friday that I really got the 'bit between my teeth' and took control!  I am great in an emergency if no one else is around, but if someone is there to take the burden from me, I tend to wilt into the background.  The first few days were focused on my husband's recovery, and despite my length of time in the country, I found I was walking blind down the road!  Chara had known what to do, and we filled out forms together, but once she left, to go home, I knew I had to do this on my own, and drew from a past life, achieving far more than I realised I was capable of doing!  Being passed from pillar to post, and back again, I persevered and before long most of the 'official' things were in place!


Coming to and from the hospital was an easy trip.  However, it was necessary to park in an off-site garage, and either walk or get a shuttle to the front door.  Samantha would pick me up in the morning, and take me back at night, and come and visit so we got to know the drivers quite well.  On the second night, as her and Chara left to go back to their vehicles, the driver asked, "Who is that woman waving at?"  Samantha explained that I was her mother, and after that, he hooted and waived each time he picked her up!  They all became quite protective of her for which I was grateful.  Edward had taken on the role of  'primary' parent, for bedtime and we were all adjusting to a new life!

Outside the room in the hospital was a 'playground', with a giant 'Connect 4', a few 'cornhole' games (bean bag throws), a couple of large 'Jenger' sets and tables and chairs surrounding them.  Each morning I would go outside and 'tidy up', and have a few shots with the bean bags.  I still had it!  I would take the opportunity to call Chara and give her an update.

Obviously, I did not wear my pyjamas into the office, and each day I would leave with a small suitcase (my carry-on bag) containing office work I had brought 'home', and some dirty clothes, always dressed in my office attire.  After shimmying down to make toast in the canteen toaster, and getting water for my coffee, I enjoyed a luxurious shower in our room, and got ready for work.  Our cleaning lady usually arrived before I left for work, and we exchanged pleasantries, in Spanish and English!  

The team of 'attending' doctors came round each morning.  Various medical terms were thrown around, and I asked for some explanation, understanding others.  I mentioned that I had worked for Social Workers many years ago, in surgical and medical in a hospital in England.  One of the doctors, who had previously, been a little jumpy suddenly got excited.  "You worked for the NHS!"  When I replied that indeed I did, he became my best friend, actually hugging me the day he left to take up a new position at a different hospital!  Another said his parents met in a place called 'Tottenham'.  I said that I was a life long supporter of said football (soccer) team and my dad lived near there as a child.  A rapport was developed with most of the staff.  I slept on a reclining chair, and helped if required, remaining in the background until asked, not wanting to interfere with protocol!

We spent Christmas day eating steak from a local restaurant, with Teddy in a high chair, and Dana sitting on 'my' bed, whilst I laid out on his!  Samantha and Edward found seating!  Teddy enjoyed sliding down the cornhole wedges after lunch and putting the 'Connect 4' pieces on a pole.  It was definitely 'alternative'!   When anyone said they were 'sorry' we had to spend the holidays in hospital, I replied that there would be other holidays!  We nearly didn't have this one!

I drove myself back to the hospital on the Friday after Christmas, clutching the garage 'pass' in my hand.  The bus driver greeted me warmly, wondering where my daughter was.  On Saturday morning, after breakfast, I made my way back home before heading to the office.  As I entered my house, I took stock of everything.  I could not quite believe it!  It looked as if the place had been ransacked, although I knew it had not.  I had not really taken much notice when I had entered previously, but the ambulance crew had been preceded by the firemen, who had come in, thrown everything out of the way to get a clear path, and of course no one had put it all back.  Samantha had made my bed, but there was linen and towels strewn across the floor, with other things scattered all across room and landing.  What did I have in the way?  I remember, vaguely, moving a bedspread and pillows, picking them up as a whole, and the fireman in charge found it quite amusing that I lifted the set.  I had put them in the bathroom. They were still there.  Downstairs had its own set of circumstances.  I had not realised quite how much I had accommodated Dana over the months with moved furniture to make it easier for him.  Not a lot of maneuvering but enough to notice!  I did not have a lot of time to clean up, but got upstairs straight!  While I was at work, I received a text from the president of our association.  He had made a large pot of chicken and dumplings, and wondered if I would like some.  He had also made a 'low sodium' pot, for Dana, in case he was on a saltless diet.  I was very touched.  Dinner was amazing!

New Year's Eve came and went, and we slept through it.  Talk of a rehabilitation facility was discussed, but they were not sure when. Physical and Occupational therapy visited daily.  I was back at work on Tuesday, having worked all weekend in the hospital.  Having 'one man down' always adds a bit of pressure, but having 'The man down' adds a whole new perspective!  However, we were managing quite well.  

The first week of the year was quite mild, and I worked each day until the early evening, before returning to Dana.  I would see Samantha 'off the premises', wave to the hooting driver, and go and heat up my dinner.  I would wave to the staff at the desk, and chat to staff on the way back to the room.  As there was a neo-natal section at the other end of our floor, I would often wish new father's congratulations, and became 'part of the furniture'.  I knew other patients' names, and all the night staff would enquire as to Dana's progress, often popping in to see how he was doing.

Each morning, I would call the kitchen and make a few adjustments to lunch and dinner.  "I bought some provolone cheese this weekend", said one of the ladies, when I asked for a sandwich for lunch.  "I saw it at the weekend, and thought of you.  I then thought I wonder what it is like with turkey, so I bought some special rye bread and will try it this weekend".  We were leaving our mark!

Cathleen collected me one evening, and took me to dinner.  We strolled along 38th Street, where they were displaying the 'alternative' Christmas lights.  An age old tradition, which apparently was shining for the final time.  It was a wonderful interlude, and one I needed.

Entering the third week, rehab was looming.  The facility nearer our house was not on the 'list' and although the choice was fairly broad, I chose one near Samantha, just in case I was unable to stay.  At least I could drive to her after visiting and drop in before work.  However, upon talking to the gentleman who visited Dana, a cot could be put in the room.  It took a couple of days to work out the details, but finally, on the Friday, he was moved.  

I had packed a suitcase with all my belongings.  The window in the hospital room that looked out into the 'playground' had three shelves.  The bottom shelf, next to the window, was very cool. so I put everything that would not fit into my mini fridge (ten inches high, eight deep and six wide - mini) along the bottom shelf.  My bed linen took up one corner, with spare towels. Other shelves had boxes containing snacks, condiments and oddments to make my stay more pleasant.  I would take a few slices of bread each morning to make toast for Dana and me, before his actual breakfast.  I left with bags and suitcases, and headed home.

Tossing everything out of one case after work, I headed for the rehab facility.  It was an easy ride, a straight road all the way, turn left and it was on the right hand side.  I arrived with dinner, and met the nurses.  They brought in a folding bed, and I slept quite well.  

My one slice toaster was an instant hit.  I made Dana breakfast, and was told I could help myself to a variety of things in the kitchenette. The fridge had juice, and sandwiches whilst the cupboard was full of cereals, soups and snacks.  The freezer had an endless supply of ice-cream which apparently could be requested 24/7!  The only thing that was not readily available, or on the premises at all, was salt!

Once again, I walked the hall in my pyjamas, getting coffee from the Keurig.  The cleaning lady at this facility would tell me I looked beautiful each day, as I left for the office, and the staff found my self-sufficiency amusing.  Dana was able to wear clothes, and the wardrobe was filled with our supplies.  My 'stock' cupboard was next to the bed, and we watched old English television series on the laptop. 

I would take off each morning, return in the evening, and bring dinner back with me which I would heat up after seeing Samantha 'off the premises'.  She longed for the day when she would walk out for the last time, and for Dana to 'ring the bell'.

Each morning, I had to drive.  I do not mean just get behind a wheel, but actually 'drive'.  The taxi driver came out of me again.  I bobbed and weaved and enjoyed myself!

Once again, we were 'guests',  Rehab was totally different to the hospital in many ways.  There were no 'rules' to speak of.  We were not woken at all hours to take 'vitals' (which interestingly enough had always been perfect) and to extract bodily fluids!  Every so often, we would hear over the public address system, "Please welcome guest....to room....".  When I spoke to the patient liaison manager (social worker) he talked of Dana's 'graduation'.  It was all very entertaining!  Everyone was most pleasant, and strangely enough, I was starting to enjoy the experience.

I had a private bathroom, lashings of hot water, a cleaning lady and as much cereal, soup and ice-cream as I could eat!  It was like an 'all inclusive' experience.  Perhaps not a five star hotel, but a reasonable establishment!

It was a far cry from anything I had ever experienced on every level.  The care was exceptional, both at the hospital and at rehab.  I must say that some nurses were more 'caring' than others, but there were only one or two that did not display a 'personal' touch.  Nothing was too much for anyone.  Everything we needed was brought within minutes, and I was every bit as welcome as the patient.  

Finally, my mini fridge, one slice toaster, clothes and 'stock' were packed away, and Dana was 'wheeled' out of his room to a somewhat depleted cheer and clapping, due to it being the weekend, but the public address announced, "Please say farewell to our guest in room ...." and just like that, we were gone!  The bell was rung, and a louder cheer and clapping was received from the reception staff, and those in the gym.

Arriving home, we unloaded the car.  Dana insisted we go out for dinner.  He felt like it would be a good test.  Samantha and Edward came over and we headed for the local diner.  It was a good place to start.  We got home, made a cup of tea, and then went upstairs to bed.  I slept in my own bed for the first time in a month, and woke up the next morning, feeling rather odd.  I had been away for a long time!

It took all day to clean the house and put away all the things I had found thrown in different places.  The temperature was very low, and we had a 'hard freeze' warning.  Monday was Martin Luther King Day and I did not venture into the office as the temperature had dipped to several degrees below freezing and precipitation was in the forecast.  I was not worried about getting to the office, but concerned about coming home.  I worked from home, real home!

The rest of last week was interesting.  Dana had already been micro-managing, wondering what had attacked him, and realising it had affected everything.  I brought home the accounts for him to reconcile, which he was happy about.   Mental agility is his forte! He was happy to be back in the saddle, or at least have one foot in the stirrups!  Being able to get to and from the office from home made a difference.  

Finally, I went shopping on Saturday.  We babysat on Saturday afternoon, and brought in food.  Things were back to normal, almost! 

The level of friendship, community, dedication and commitment, we received from family, friends, neighbours and colleagues, both in Austin and around the state, nay country, was amazing.  We were moved to tears on several occasions.  Even the postman called!  When I told the taco restaurant staff members that he was in hospital, they insisted on giving me our meal gratis with well wishing.

It has been an eventful month, one I would not want to repeat.  Thankfully all seems well.  Of course, follow up appointments will be necessarily and hopefully we will get 'closure'.  Apart from the obvious, I have learned a little bit about myself.  I did not realise quite how much I relied on my husband, and during this episode, I found me.  Despite this not being about me, I found me.  I am not talking about The Englishwoman Abroad, who makes friends, entertains with an accent, and who has worked with judges, law makers and other officials in the course of my work.  I am not talking about The Englishwoman Abroad who is on the board of her housing association, knows all her neighbours and is well known in the community.  I am talking about the me who could do anything, who could run a company, who could pay bills, who could balance books, who could cope with the world.  Much as I do not want to be that person, permanently, as I enjoy being looked after.  I can do it!  It felt good for a season!

All that is left to say on this subject is Happy New Year, and a healthy one to all.  Surprisingly enough I do have some more to write, and not on this subject at all.  It is quite simply a new, and ............ another story!