Thursday, May 3, 2012
all in a day's work
We're one FTE down at the sawmill so all of us take turns covering the shift that everybody over the age of fifty hates. This was my appointed time to show up for work at noon. It's been a long week and all that jazz so I slept in 'til about 8:30 when Daddy called to see if he needed to wake Mama up for a home health visit at noon. I told him to let her sleep, bless her heart. Can you imagine the joy of being in your own bed after six weeks of purgatory?? Anywho, I ran down there this morning with wet hair, headed to work and found that there were things that needed doing that were kinda gross, but we did it by golly. Almost a nurse, my ass. Ms Faye was there getting acquainted with Mama again and then corporate showed up. Nice people, I think. They own the land that has been my home forever and are learning the history. There are four elders left in this tiny community of Samaria Bend and one of whom is the mayor. That would be Mozella, ya'll. The rest of her family has pitched in to share years on end with us, based on life experiences and a healthy respect for the sanctity of agriculture. A famous person told me one time to grow my own. About an hour into that shift I figured I wasn't gonna make it what with the nausea and all so I scurried around and got everybody caught up so I could make a quick exit. About the time I hit the dollar store for a turkey sammich, the nurse called and wanted to "reconcile" the meds. Six weeks after an acute septic event. Only people who work in healthcare can understand the logistics of that. I stopped by my favorite chicken store on the way in to grab some tenders and found that they had been flat out burgled during the night. These poor girls were working with calculators and cash drawers. No cards, no checks. Talk about some revenue loss. The window had just been replaced but the register was bashed to hell and all lines were down. Why do people have to be so ignorant, really? The site of my favorite grocery store is about to be reduced to brick and glass, another fallen icon in the history of Forked Deer river flooding. If I knew the stats, I'd probably blame the corp from way back in the sixties when my brothers watched the dredging from banks here on the farm. Of course we all know that their intentions have always been the best and whatnot, considering what happened in NOLA. But you know, that wasn't Dubya's fault anymore than the blow job was Clinton's. It's never about the taxpaying citizens of the country but about federal power and congressional bullshit. If enough people rise up, Occupy notwithstanding, they will either be heard or reckoned with. Fortunately in this country that isn't an issue except in the courts and lobbyist hot spots of DC. One voice with a dream can speak to generations of believers when there is a common vision. In my lifetime I have been blessed with an upbringing that respects people of all races creeds and lifestyles. And I reckon John Wesley taught me well with the heartwarming experience he had one evening among friends. A big fat thank you to those who covered my butt today so I could regroup. A woman in my position who is out of Celexa is a scary thing.