on just being bad . . .

Nothing makes me happier when doing a three hour wait then to find free wifi!  A definite plus in the world of boredom.  Not that I wouldn't have happily glued my nose in a book, but this way I can play with Photoshop, check email and well . . . blog.

Anyone who has sat through a loved one's PET scan quickly learns to bring something to pass the time, so I wasn't surprised to see the back of a woman's head as she worked her needle point.  Her long gray hair fell beyond her neck, hidden by the chair back, her shoulders bobbing occasionally, as she tended to her work.  At one point she raised an arm high enough for me to get a visual.  I was surprised to see how thick and hair encompassed it was.  While I am not fur free myself, mine is blond.  More peach than coconut . . .  but I digress

Did I mention I am a people watcher from way back?  I love watching folks interact especially when they have no idea they are being observed.  Enter a lone, rather fragile, elderly woman, her banded arm declaring her a patient rather than waiting family.  She saw, as I did, the back of the needle pointer and headed over to chat.  While I didn't hear her opening comment emanate from her warm and patient face, the needle pointer definitely replied to be heard:  "None of your business."  The woman visibly flinched and shakily stumbled into the closest seat.  Recovering herself, she asked if HE had said "None of your business."  To which in deep resonating voice, he replied 'yes'.  The obvious befuddled woman replied, "I've never heard such a direct response.", to which she quickly added, "or rude."

Her gods were watching over her today as one of the tech's called her name for her procedure.  She passed me mumbling about lack of manners . . .

An hour later, I am still watching he with the long hair, working away.  No one has ventured into his seating area since. 

exit 9 . . .

Tomorrow I have to drag the 9TS kicking and screaming back over to Tampa for his four month PET scan.  He seriously does not like sitting around for three hours in temperatures meant only for meat lockers so he can be stuck in a claustrophobic tube to have his paper wrapped body scanned from head to foot.  But, it needs to be done and he knows it so he grumbles and follows the rules. 

Then we need to run some quick errands for things available in the big city that are impossible to find in our backwater town . . . like this perfect Mexican type dip from the cheese deli.  Yummo! 

A little lunch and then back to Moffitt for our meeting with Dr. Z.  In the five years we've been battling Mela and his cousin Noma, we've learned a couple of things about Dr. Z:

1.  If he doesn't show and our meeting is hosted by his side kick Chris, it's excellent news. 

2.  If it is Dr. Z who pops his head through the door, the news is not so hot and we hear the dreaded, "We'll this wasn't what you hoped to hear."

3.  If the news is really bad, he will tell us he has to wait for the official readings and take the info to their board meeting and will let us know in a couple of days.  This is his polite way of saying, "Oh, crap!"  "I need time to line up whichever oncology specialist we will need this go round."

Not that we don't like Dr. Z. but you can understand our penchant for Chris.  Good, funny, reliable, hardworking, not getting stuck delivering the bad news . . . Chris. 

And so dear readers, if you say little prayers or send out good vibes or think good thoughts, or stick pins in evil voodoo dolls, we could really use some good juju.  Please.  Thank you.  Amen.

so excited . . .

We were driving through a semi rural area when it came tearing out of the woods from the the left side, hurdling over the two lanes of empty west bound asphalt, across the median and then covered our east bound lanes, some 150 feet in front of us and into the woods again.  At first we thought it was a common house cat but its size was prohibitive, its coloring a singular creamy beige except for the black and white on its muzzle and the white tip on its rope like tail.  It was sleek, muscular and lithe.  It was, after thirty six years in this state, my first sighting of a Florida Panther. 

In retrospect, we don't think it was full grown.  Not as filled out as some of the photos we subsequently looked up, but definitely a panther.  Amazing!!!!

i need to go back . . .

so happy to be playing with photoshop again . . .

special thanks to Dawn Inskip, Anna Aspnes and Vinnie Pearce.

one nagging thing . . .

Karenika, whose blog I scrounge for creative ideas, has set a goal for herself to do one nagging thing each day.  She has set a ton of other daily/weekly goals as well.  So many so that I had to crawl back into bed and hide under the covers, just reading them.  She is wonder woman with the number of accomplishment she finishes each day.  Whew!

But the 'one nagging thing' has been . . . well . . . nagging me.  So this morning, after a quick check of my computer, I leaped out of bed and pulled out all the bills that backlogged while we were drifting lazily around that big puddle, sharpened my pencil and balanced my checkbook and paid my bills.  Then I jumped through the usual bureaucratic hoops to get the 9TS's next visit to Moffitt covered . . .  you know you are way too familiar when you and both your insurance specialist and the referral officer at the hospital are on a first name basis and you know where they spent their vacations.  And then, I called Katie's rental manager to get her lease straightened out for next year.   So, does that relieve me of my one nagging duty for the next three days or do I have to start all over again tomorrow.  Because of course there is still the ironing to be done, and the kitchen floor, and Katie's closet, the pool deck, the bathroom . . . 

late night meanderings . . .

Bear woke me up again to play fetch.  Yes, he thinks he is a dog.  The 9TS rolls up little tight wads of paper and Bear carries them around in his mouth.  He then bounds onto the bed and drops said ball unceremoniously onto my head.  If I don't wake up immediately, he paws the sheets until I do.  Nice Bear.  And since I am then up, I throw it out into the loft and he slams off the bed, scudders across the hard wood floors, retrieves the toy and bounds back onto the bed.  We play this over and over and over again until he tires, looses it or I confiscate it.  Tonight he lost it somewhere in the depths of my scrap room.

The only problem is, I am now wide awake, while Bear slumbers in my armpit and I remember we picked up two gourmet slices of cake at Publix this afternoon.  They are nestled in a bakery box in the fridge and I am truly considering a raid at this late hour.  It is calling to me.  Distinctly.  Maybe if I go stare at it for a bit, the craving will disappear.  I think I'll try it . . .

happy fourth of july!!!!

Independence Day.   In more ways then one.  I finally finished blogging our vacation . . . so I cheated a little on Saint Tropez . . .  I'll add photos later . . .  or not.  After a while everything starts to blend together.  But we are all back safe and sound if not sane.  The laundry is done, emails and Facebook caught up upon, and gee, I am only three classes behind over at JessicaSprague.com but that gives me something to do this summer.

I wish you all well this day and am thankful for the freedom it represents.  A huge thanks to all who served to make it so . . . past and present.