he who squawks loudest......

...sometimes gets paid quicker. But not usually around here because, hey. You can't get cash from a turnip. We try really hard to watch money and only spend on things like healthcare when we absolutely have to. Essentials like food sometimes are slim. My memory fails when I try to remember the last time I bought a piece of clothing other than a t-shirt at the beach ( Thanks Mom! ) We are ass deep in debt what with student loans and the cost of living. One would think that in times like these, healthcare providers might cut the insured some slack.

Several months ago I visited a traveling neurologist to get the testing done to PROVE that I have carpal tunnel syndrome before treatment can be administered. This cost over five hundred dollars which was applied to my one thousand dollar deductible. Following the arrival of the bill, I wrote a letter to the physician personally and also to his administrative office explaining our circumstances and asking for some time to pay the bill. Today I received a final notice with seven days to pay before collections begin. All I can say is "bring it on." You can take my first and only born but then I wouldn't have a paying roommate so you'd be shootin' your own foot. Or yacht, as the case may be.

I don't blame docs for wanting to be paid. The government is ruthless with them and malpractice premiums are out the roof. For this, we can thank sleazy lawyers and insurance companies. They are who run the industry and set the price tag. This is not a drill, ya'll. Something has to be done and soon. Congress is considering legislation on healthcare reform as I type and it's down to kinda sorta the "war on healthcare" as such instead of some foreign country or an ambiguous thing like terror. Had you been witness to some of the terror that I've seen, you' be ready to jump OFF the twin towers. The really sad thing, is that the medical technology available today has the capacity to serve every man woman and child in this country where they are if only the resources are distributed fairly and at an affordable price.

Both of my parents are on Medicare and with Daddy's federal retirement they manage to live comfortably in their elder years with chronic diseases. He retired 23 years ago when the economy was still looking good, and in fact is one of the last recipients of the golden years of Social Security and Medicare benefits. The crisis that is coming up on us as a generation of baby boomers is that we are nearing that age minus that huge cushion that has kept the system viable thus far. And CEOs of drug companies march on toward billionairedom. Go figure.

Delegating responsibility should be shifted off of the feds and more to the state governments. Smaller operations mean less opportunity for waste and more accountability for both providers and consumers. Federal dollars can be used as subsidies in programs such as rural healthcare initiatives and local demonstration projects featuring end-of-life care and holistic approaches to medicine. That B12 they got down at the dollar store may not work as quick as a shot in the butt, but it still gets the job done.


Ya'll wanna vote for me now or later?

the good old? summertime

Yes...I still hate to sweat. Sucks to be me about right now. I envy people who can wear makeup in the summer. I don't even bother because it all slides right off by the time I walk to the car. Though I'm not real big on girly things, I do like to not scare folks at the sawmill. Me and Faith took a road trip down to have lunch with the grands. That poor baby sat on the porch with Daddy patiently waiting for me to get done so she could go back up the hill. She's a homebody like me. We're in for the day attempting to get our collective shit together, but not having much luck. It's too tempting to just sit down and feel the fan blow.

My favorite little vegetable salesgirl was out again today with corn so I picked up a dozen ears during the marathon shopping trip this morning. Not too shabby for one who slept in until 10am. Heat, humidity and old age take their toll. Life has turned into a big puzzle to work with the pieces consisting of work, attempting to make a path through the house, errands and rides for my parents and a little down time now and then. I rarely watch TV anymore but still pay for it. That will probably go when the contract is up. If you will remember, I learned the hard way about contracts with TV companies, even when you don't know you're in one. These folks explained it up front, so I have no problem with it.

Another wreck....this time involving both my brother AND daddy. He was taking daddy up the highway to drink coffee with his morning pals when some guy looking at a deer rear-ended 'em and demolished both vehicles. I'll let you guess which one didn't have a seatbelt on. Both of them seem to be okay...the other guy got beat up by his airbag and will probably up the premiums on his employer's insurance since it was a company truck. His story? Bubba was going too slow. I thought that's what the passing lane is for!

I am content to be cool in my little old farmhouse with dogs laying around on the floor and clothes OFF of the floor and in the washer. Low maintenance. No doubt.

Ya'll keep the faith ^j^

bad day at the office

It was devil karma, all the way around...left over from the weekend, I swear. A few of my co-workers were on vacation broadening their horizons and I got stuck with the incredibly cute and sweet rookie bone marrow guy. It's always a chinese fire drill up in there when somebody orders that procedure, what with all the special testing and such. What should have taken half an hour turned into a ninety minute sentence in the closest private room with no functioning AC. For THIS I went to college and almost jumped out of a tenth floor window???? Think again, ya'll.

Our patient was already scared shitless when he got there thanks to some helpful friends who told him how incredibly painful it is to do this thing with nothing for sedation. Wifey just grabbed her Joel Osteen book and marched right down the hall to the ICU waiting room to preach a little while. I went and got her when it was over and she seemed glad to be gettin' out of there. She told me that she was sure the tests would be negative, and by golly I believed her in spite of it all.

I could say more, but hey. I might get dooced...then who would pay the ginormous utility bill?

^j^

damage control

Ever since I became a single gal seven years ago, it's been a struggle both emotionally and financially to keep this boat afloat. After the first few years involving multiple calls from creditors and lots of wild and crazy early twenty something encounters, I decided that as long as everybody's healthy and fed and not in jail or at the funeral home, the rest will take care of itself because, hey. I'm not superwoman....just a smartass country girl with a whole lot of faith. Thanks, Big Ernie.

I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel finally. Over the years I paid back every bit of what I was dinged with, a lot of it by two or three credit card companies. Several generous and loving friends have pitched in with donations to help me with the crisis du jour....divorce money, new tires and other things too numerable to mention. A few business owners have cut me some slack by extending credit when we needed something desperately like propane or groceries.

Babygirl will get her first paycheck from the REAL job next week after working for free for a month :) She will no longer be totally dependent on mom for a place to live and something to eat. Oh, it will be here for as long as she needs it. And she promised not to abandon me with the grandparent situation at hand. But...it is a milestone in her life, and in ours together. We have struggled together as friends over the years, one complimenting the other with a hefty door slam or a teary conversation fueled by disillusionment and sorrow. We are family, forever. I pity those who don't know that feeling.

Here's to you Babygirl. To your evil habits, old soul and beautiful smile.To your stamina and love for life. No wonder Butterbean grins when she sees you! We made it. Ain't that something????

^j^

into the outbox

Anybody who knows and loves me, warts and all, knows that one of my most annoying habits is procrastination with a capital P. I haven't always been that way, yet in my middle years I've become one to roll with it and believe that Big Ernie knows I'm doing the best I can do and to heck with the rest of that small stuff. My decorating style has taken a 360 degree turn from "everything matches" to a funky electic mix of treasured pieces and an emphasis on vibrant colors. It reflects who I am. When one houses three dogs, one cat and two (soon to be three) women, one must learn the value of flexibility and comfort in lieu of perfection.

If we had voted on it in high school I would have won this honor: Most likely to keep on plugging and eventually get 'er done. That is what faith is about to me....weighing options, considering outcomes and eventually taking action. I marked something off of my "to do" list today by setting a date for surgery on my hand. The doctor, bless her heart, said she didn't know how I had functioned for this long with such severe carpal tunnel syndrome. I thought to myself " Because I've had to." It has absolutely nothing to do with that stubborn Stafford streak.

Changing the subject, I've heard a lot of chatter about how much BIGGER Michael Jackson's death is than that of Elvis. I bet to differ, ya'll. The difference is in the way the MSM works today vs. 1977. Thanks to newshound mentality, there's not a private moment to be had by anybody remotely famous. Which ain't me or mine, by the way. Just check the obituaries or call the funeral home if you want to know what my arrangements are.

We are, as usual, waitin' for the other shoe to drop on Pecan Lane.

^j^

never a dull moment

Well well....are all ya'll full of bbq pork and seeing flashbacks of fireworks? This is my fourth day off so I'm not even sure what day it is. Ummm...Monday, I think. Gotta go back tomorrow for one then off for another two before working the weekend at the sawmill. It's been an adventure filled weekend around here, to say the least. My youngest brother came in from Virginia in the wee hours of July 5th for a short visit. We were sittin' on the porch of the old cabin over on the hill enjoying the breeze and a brew when my phone rang. "You're missing all the excitement!" Daddy exclaimed. We packed into brother's jeep and headed down toward the fire, only to find our father hoofing it down the middle of the road to the scene, smooth leaving Mama on the porch. He hopped in the back seat and away we went.

It took a few minutes to piece together the story but this is how it went. Everybody on that end lost electricity so the trusty rural electric company came out to repair the line that had fallen. Somehow the live wire managed to ignite 30 acres of wheat stubble that had been planted in no- till beans (aka "wheat beans") and it took off like a gas fire with heavy wind fanning it out of control. Though we have city fire coverage, it only applies in the case of a house being threatened which was not the case. Sooooooo....who should come to the rescue but one lone volunteer firefighter from a nearby community. Nobody to pump the water...just this one guy and his truck. The guy who is head of the electric company was the one repairing the line, so he gave that chore a break and pumped water to douse the fire. There were county cops. My other brother was roaming around the edges and through the embers in HIS truck checking things out. Then the farmer and his wife pulled up to see what was going on in his beanfield. By that time all that was left of those baby soybeans was a bunch of ashes.

Farmers can survive all manner of natural disasters but this one was bizarre to say the least. The whole purpose of n0-till farming is to plant OVER what was just harvested so I haven't seen a wheat field burned off out here in many a year. The really ironic thing is that I never go anywhere without my camera, and didn't have it on me for the most exciting thing the farm has seen since the last tornado. Just my luck!

Ya'll be careful out there. And keep the faith ^j^

let freedom ring

Everyone has their own way of celebrating the 4th. Usually it involves food, fireworks and family. Here in the south, that food is something from the grill, and pork is king around these parts. Ribs. Butts. Shoulders. You name it and we'll smoke the hell out of it then douse it with somebody's special sauce. After all, it's the other white meat.

Our family ate some freshly pulled shoulder sandwiches dressed up with Quick's sauce from the guy down the road. He's got all varities for sale at the bar, but I chose mild because I'm just that kind of gal. Afterwards, we visited the mayor of Samaria Bend and her family and enjoyed some hand cranked homemade ice cream. The grills were loaded and smoking. Back in the day, they would start cooking the night before on an underground pit. Lord at the cars that would pull up for THAT family reunion. They're scattered now, like most everybody else. But they all know the value of family get togethers and teaching their children about the heritage of the farm where they grew up. We are all adult products of a lifetime on this place, black and white living peacefully and respectfully side by side. This neighborhood was integrated before the courts ever even thought about bringing the idea up. I like that about my childhood.

I'm finally gonna get something done to the left arm to make life a bit more bearable. Chronic pain just doesn't fit into my plans for working until I drop dead at the sawmill. Last time I had surgery, some smartass nurse wrote on my toes with a sharpie. I imagine it will happen again.

Peace out ^j^