Jana Lee Bumblebee

Pain

2011-06-21T21:21:00.000-07:00

Did I tell you a jammed my right shoulder? Try this: go from a standing position to sitting on the floor and notice how you might use one arm to brace yourself from falling in a heap. That's what I did on the grass at the bus stop 10 days ago. I've sat on the grass 5 days a week for 6 weeks now and managed to not injure myself. But on that day, YOWZAAA!!!!! Pop went something, followed my shooting hot pain through my right arm and fingers started going numb. I wondered to myself, "Now you're in a pickle. How do you propose to get yourself back to standing with a limp right arm?'" Right about then a lawnmower guy came by needing to mow that patch of lawn. It was either get off my butt or death by mowing. Me and my dangling arm managed to get up, on the bus, and home.
Interesting disability. I can't or couldn't:
1. run the van gear shift
2. reach across for a seat belt
3. pull up pants
4. pull arms in & out of sleeves
5. pull up left bra strap
6. shake hands w/arm extended
7. hold anything weighty, like a jug of milk or the iron
8. reach laterally across my body

But time has passed and I've swallowed plenty of Tylenol. Some mobility has returned, but I gave up and went to the doctor today.
X-rays show nothing broken, so it's a muscle tear of some sort, curable with more pain killers, more time, & some physical therapy.
I have learned to LOVE my left arm. So dextrous!. So helpful! So good in a pinch! So handy to have! kiss kiss kiss
On the way home from the doctor I fulfilled a life-long fantasy. I pulled onto 12th ave road directly behind a wailing firetruck, hit the gas, and sped a mile down the street on his tail. And NOBODY was in my path because he, of course, had cleared it. Oh it was fun!. All these cars pulled to the sides except me happily zipping past and feeling like I had won something. Cross that off my bucket list.

The wheels on the bus go round & round

2011-05-15T20:16:00.000-07:00

Whatever was I worried about? I feel like one of my four life problems has just fallen off the radar. I tell you--bus riding is soothing. Snooze in the AM. Reading the PM.
Interesting characters and famous lookalikes. Thusfar I've sat next to Johnny Depp
(as his Jack Sparrow character) and Stephen King.

I love my new office, my location in the office, the new walk I take both at lunch and after work, the huge windows which allow me to see thunderstorms arriving from the West, the double monitors, and the smoking hot printer which can print, copy, & fax so fast my head spins.

I've lost my bus pass once. (A 30-day pass, used only 8 days) But it miraculously came back the next day.

So I've been all surprised/happy for 2 weeks now and here's the irony. On the day my Nampa office closed, I came home to a phone message from a nurse friend. She works at Midland Care & Rehab where their head medical biller had just walked off the job. #2 biller was promoted, leaving a vacancy. Was I interested? (Let's see--Midland Care is about 2 miles from home. Yes, I am interested.) Then the administrator called me. We set up an interview, but in the meantime I started work in Boise and found I liked it. I tell you, there is nothing so sweet as a fact finding interview when you're not desperate. Bottom line: We are not exactly perfect for each other, but if they want to make an offer, I'm willing to compare apples to apples (salary/paid time off) and make a decision. Another week has passed. They haven't called back I am happy with that too. I mentioned I could give them a list of a dozen other women more suited to the job. Whatever happens, everybody wins. Then I dropped my bus pass in the administrator's office, though I didn't know it until the next day.

Anyway, the past year and half of job fretting and stewing is gone and good riddance to it. Actually I feel really blessed to be able to keep my job, my great boss, and the new corporation chose a building site 1/2 block from the bus stop on this side of Boise, which allows me to get to work by 7:30. If they had chosen anywhere else..........I guess I'd be begging for that care center job.

ha ha The care center had a black labrador lolling on the black leather couch in the admin's office. I was told "if the dog licks your hand, you get the job." He didn't.

------change of subject-----
Chanel treated Kevin & I to "Wicked." WOWOWOWOWOWO!!!!! I told her I have to go again watch it from backstage. The stagecraft was as fascinating as the story.

The color of mud

2011-03-12T20:09:00.000-08:00

So---I have never shopped for floor vinyl or carpet or formica or anything else in the home improvement world. Did you know it is possible to go to RC Willey and not find a single couch you like? This is because everything they sell is the color of mud, or was the last time I looked--years ago.

Therefore I should have not been surprised after 5 minutes of looking in Nampa's premier chi-chi floor covering store to find---kitchen vinyl is all the color of mud. ONly 5 minutes to flip through each and every sample (100's) and hate them all, though I wasn't shopping for myself. I was shopping on behalf of Grandma Ison and her buckled kitchen floor. Whatever happened to pretty vinyl, with little flowers and pastel coloring? That's what she has now and I was fairly certain she would want the same again. Why is the hip look all slabs of granite, muddy at that?

I seem to require hand-holding in these situations from someone who loves shopping--Kevin. Tonight we ventured into the world again, but at Lowe's instead and found fewer choices but several quite grandmotherish pieces. We "checked-out" 3. Did you know Lowe's rents out vinyl samples for $10? Now you do. With Kevin at my side, I felt sort of triumphant and we drove to Caldwell fairly betting grandma would favor the light beige with little pink flowers.

In the past, Grandma has been a very slow decider. Her fading memory is part of the problem. If she makes a decision it will be forgotten 5 minutes later, so decision-making can stretch on indefinitely. This is where Lora Dawn's primo facilitating skills save the day. My plan was to leave the vinyl samples with grandma overnight, have LD sweep in Sunday afternoon, apply some great facilitating pressure. I figured by Monday morning we could call Biff ( floor installer) and say, "Order the flowers." Ta DA!

Well, well, We found Grandma in her TV room, looking at treasures. Kevin said, "Mom, come on out into the dining room. We have a little job for you to do." I had spread the 3 samples on the dining room table. "What's this," she asked? "Oh! I like THAT one." and she pointed at the muddiest of the 3, not the flowerdy one. End of decision. I nearly fell off the chair. We slapped the favored vinyl down on the floor, where it looked perfect next to her carpet. She said, "My kitchen floor is too light. It shows dirt too easy. This one will help conceal it." My head was spinning. She chortled, "Oh, I have been so worried about this. You two are the best shoppers and now I don't have to think about this anymore."

You can bet we had Biff on the phone two minutes later, placing the order. He said, "I wish I had more customers like your mother." (Quick deciders)

Is this irony? To the 10th power

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Jocile & Richard, Biff will call us Monday to say when the vinyl will arrive. Then we can nail down a schedule.

I pull a "Morgan"

2011-02-06T19:05:00.002-08:00

So I'm walking around the house in my sheepskin slippers, doing my ordinary business, and wondering why my feet hurt.

Lo and behold, when I sit in the Lazy-Boy and put my feet up, the shoes are on the wrong feet.

Now I'm paranoid. I have to check the slippers everytime I wear them. They just don't look that obviously R or L.

Morgan, your grandma takes after you. Who'd have thought? After all these years.......
.......what's going to regress next?

This is like great-grandma Louie Ison. She did her daily housework, went to RS meeting, came home, got ready for bed and realized she'd forgotten to put on her brassiere that morning. ha

My family ward wants me to speak about olden days women and RS. I think her story bears mentioning.

Freakazoidal commute from Hell

2011-01-26T18:28:00.000-08:00

The corp called for a 2hr departmental meeting in Boise @ St. Alphonsus hospital. (My dept=8 people) 8AM yesterday. Did I drive? Not on your life. I rode with 2 co-workers and nearly freaked out. We left in 7AM fog. Why are people driving bumper to bumper at 55 mph IN THE FOG?????

Brrrrring. Wendee's speaker phone goes off. (She's the driver). It's her mom, who works in Boise, calling to warn of an auto accident on the connector, precisely where we need to go. Thanks for the bad omen. Traffic stacks up immediately and now we crawl bumper to bumper at 5MPH. Brrrring again. It's Lorna, co-worker, several cars back. She knows a variety of curse words for the situation. She's from Caldwell, thus having extra miles to work up a fine string. Brrrrring again. It's Robert, our boss, miles behind us. Also an excellent curser. The two cups of water I drank for breakfast hit my bladder. We crawl for 1hr 10 min, to the crash site which is now nothing but flickering flares. For crying out loud, a commuter bus passes us. And a commuter van. What I wouldn't give for a restroom.

I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. Wendee keeps up a line of patter. "Oh this is nothing. I used to live in Tacoma and do this everyday." Well, good. Keep your eyes on that bumper 2 inches in front of you. Lorna calls again and announces she's claustrophobic. She expects to get rear-ended any moment. Wendee and Nicole (in front seat) want to know if I'm OK? Frankly, FREAKING NOT!!!!

Yes, we finally get to the hospital at 8:10 and assault the restrooms. Facilitator Woman (from corporate Novi, Michigan) offers coffee and sympathy. I am so tense I could bite heads off. Boss Robert arrives 15 minutes later. We have our meeting. yada yada yada I ride with a different co-worker back to Nampa. The fog is twice as thick. We take a country road instead of freeway. Again, another car accident shuts down a 1-mile section of AMity.

Today I hear rumors that my boss's boss (Jill) will soon approach me for bus route info. Supposedly her commute yesterday, (though at a different time of day) put the fear in her too. I hear she wants an inservice on how to get from Nampa to Boise without death, fear, or tension.

Farewell to Cheetos, the gig is up.

2011-01-23T16:25:00.000-08:00

So, so , so sad. New employer = new health insurance. New health insurance has new rules. i.e. all adults on the plan are required to get a general physical every year. (Skip it if you please, but your % of copay, coins and deduct go UP.) I'm all about saving $$, so I went to chubby Dr. Kunz after, I don't know, an 8 year absence. I had the blood tests, etc etc etc. (But NO pap smear) YAY for hysterectomies! Does any woman in the world love having a pelvic? NO

Results: High cholesterol, blood pressure, blood sugar. bad

So Dr Kunz looks me in the eye and says, "Here's what you're gonna do, Jana. "

1. Walk 30 minutes minimum/day forevermore.
2. Take the lowest dose blood pressure med (and don't be surprised if it takes a while to regulate and you end up taking 3 types a day like everybody else.
3. Have a little visit with the hospital nutritionist
4. Report in once a week for blood pressure check and weigh-in.

AND-----ABSOLUTELY WORST OF ALL-----
5. low salt diet

Sisters, do you remember back in the days when I used to suck on salt rocks? I believe one of you told me I would get "hardening of the arteries." I didn't care.

Well that dr's appt was 2 1/2 weeks ago and how have I done on each?

1. Yes, 6 days a week. During lunch, after work, in fog, wind, light rain, with a backache and without.
2. Yes, but not sure if I like the sensation it gives
3. Coming up next weekend
4. 8 lbs down the hatch
5. I'm aiming for 2300mg sodium, the recommended for ordinary mortals. I think Dr. meant I should go lower but I can't do it yet. Just giving up Cheetos and the usual lovely fried salty things is challenge enough.

Good things:

1. I'm not so bitter, really
2. Food journaling is educational
3. Mrs Dash is not too objectionable
4. Stir frys are easy to cook
5. I'm not feeling hungry, which totally surprises me.
6. I've got a good mental game going. "Jana, don't give a rip about the total weight loss needed. Just stick to today. You can be good today and sin tomorrow." Thusfar, have not sinned tomorrow. Wait, that's a lie. I sinned @ the Ison chick yakfest.
7 . chicken breast and George Foreman grill--my 2 new best friends
8. My other best friend--IPOD Mozart, Billy Joel, etc keep me moving.
9. Kevin wanted to take me out to dinner and I turned him down. In 34 years, that's NEVER HAPPENED!

Well, that's the deal and I'm not going to write anymore about it.

Resurrection

2011-01-16T23:10:00.000-08:00

So--I have decided to kick the old blog back to life.

As my daughter-in-law mentioned on her blog, 2010 was the pits and consequently for me, the writing well was dry. But I will do a little catch-up now.

My work: I now do my same job for Trinity Health instead or Catholic Health. Over the course of 2010 sixty people dwindled down to 45 as my co-workers saw the handwriting on the wall. At that point, Trinity announced it would re-hire 25 of us to help staff a new billing office in Boise. I pro and conned myself for several weeks. Should I take the severance package and unemployment and do some goofing off before job-hunting in Nampa? Or should I go for security and commuting to Boise? In the end, I chickened out for security and commuting. The transition to new employer was formal on Jan1, but here's the good news. The new building isn't ready and won't be for several more months. YAHOO. (Corner of Emerald and Steelhead
Way for any of you Boise-ites interested) So I'm still here in Nampa, a .07 mile drive from home.

When the time comes, I still won't drive. Snow, ice, darkness, rain, traffic, old car, gas expense, freeway driving in general--none of this works for me. I'm taking the bus. Get this: only $36.00 a month, a bonafide steal if a person can tolerate the 1 hr commute from Karcher Mall to office. With the help of Ipod, scriptures, books, and journal, I plan to tolerate it for one year and then evaluate.

The rest of my life: It feels like an ongoing fog. Years ago we had a neighbor lady come over and describe how she spent the year after her son's fatal car wreck with her head stuck in a gin bottle. At the time she said it (years after the accident), she looked none too recovered still. I totally get what she was saying now. When you grieve you look for comfort and hunker down. Enough said.

Kevin: still a Bishop and I still love having him be one.
Arielle: happily back at BYUI, starting her Sophmore year.
Chanel: a walking party, the best person to hang with overnight or anytime, for that matter
The cat: 16 years old, arthritic, takes a daily dozen naps and I am so jealous
Grandma Ison: thankful to be living in her home and so gracious about any help given her. Her kitchen floor is ruined and buckled from recent water problems. I never know how to deal with house repairs. Dean---help!?!?!
Morgan & Lydia: I never get enough of seeing and enjoying them. Having them closer is the silver lining of 2010's black cloud.

Improvement

2010-01-30T10:43:00.000-08:00

So--I returned to daily walking at the Rec Center track 3 weeks ago. Today I passed a lady on crutches, a man with a cane, and a mom carrying a toddler on her shoulders. I believe this puts me up in the rankings, right?

Kevin earns a point!

2010-01-29T22:45:00.001-08:00

I woke him up at 5:30 this morning. "Kevin, do you want a point?" There's a honking huge spider in the shower." Yes he did--YAHOO!!! I am categorically against spiders in the shower. He sent it for a swim down the toilet.

Hey--I can be generous with points. I bestowed 4 more at breakfast when he fixed my four favorite "flavors" together.

Fried egg, 2 slices of toast, crispy bacon, and orange juice. Yum

The Continuing story.....

2009-11-03T20:01:00.000-08:00

Silly joke just passed to me from Kevin: How does a doctor know what to do for swine flu versus bird flu? If you have swine flu, he gives you an oinkment. If you have bird flu, he gives you tweetment. GRRRROAN!

Ok, back to the May family.

Both lost their spouses in the month of March 1964.

At the time, Paul was 31 and on the high council. After considering his options, he told his Stake Pres (on a Sunday)he would be moving back to Burley, where his mom was caring for the new baby. That same night friends called him to attend a "fireside" just to get out of the house. It turned out to not be a fireside at all, but a set-up to meet Sharon, who was similarly conned by the same friends. Though not a bit interested romantically, they did find their common grief as a talking point. On Monday evening they talked until 1:30AM. On Tuesday evening they talked until 5AM. In retrospect, both say it was a relief to find someone who understood so clearly their devastation. On Wednesday night they went to a movie and he kissed her. On Thursday night he proposed and she said yes. By the end of the week, they considered themselves engaged.

Family reactions were not positive. His mother (who had bonded with the newborn and did not want to give her up): "You two are too dumb to care for this baby, let alone 7 children." Her mother: "You are being impulsive and stupid." Her former father-in-law, who turned out to be the beneficiary on his son's $10000.00 life insurance policy and who had hoped to step in as a father figure to Sharon'children, refused to share even a dime of the insurance.

Paul and Sharon married anyway, mid-summer 1964 and proceeded to move their 7 children into his 2-bedroom home. She got pregnant immediately, had six more children plus numerous miscarriages up until age 48. She continued her nursing career. He was an engineer and all-around fix-it guy. Together they raised their kids + whoever else needed raising. They've been married 45 years now. Twelve years ago, as a retirement project, they bought the ranch, with it's old farmhouse and a collection of rickety log out-buildings. Slowly they have repaired, built, added on, and improvised until now they are booked solid from June 15-Aug 15 with massive reunion groups. Their own descendants can come home and all the g-kids have room to run and beds to sleep in.

One note of sadness. On the 14th anniversary of the earthquake, Sharon's oldest daugher was killed in a car wreck.

So I had to ask, "Weren't there any adjustments with a courtship so brief?" "Heck Yes!" Sharon replied. "I used to wake up in Paul's arms crying because I missed Richard. When that happened we would get out of bed, get out the movie projector, and watch the 2 reels of 8mm film I salvaged from my home." (which contained brief snippets showing Richard)

I could go on and on. These are people you have to meet. He reminds me of a white-haired apostle Holland.

Grandma Ison says we should have the next reunion in 2011. Whadya think? The May Family Ranch would bankrupt our reunion fund. On the other hand, we sisters could have an affordable writer's retreat and probably not write even a sentence. You come too, Melanie.

Stay tuned for Part C. I'm not done with anniversary stories.

Lightning, earthquake, true love & a chef!

2009-11-02T20:56:00.000-08:00

Congrats to Angela on your new blog. New to me anyway.

I have skipped FHE on the lofty pretense of not spreading my cold about--a cold which I didn't have yesterday. Grrr. Anyway I took down the Halloween decorations and am supposed to be in bed, but Angela's blog distracted me.

How much anniversary can I write about in less than 30 minutes? Hang on......

Look up the May Family Ranch (Clayton, ID) on the net. Read every page and then save your dollars. What a grand Ison reunion we could have there! They can sleep 85 people and handle 200 (with tents or trailers). That's where we went.

We stayed in the big house/B&B, guests of Paul & Sharon May and "their" chef. Get this--Robert, the chef, was a nonpaying friend of the family, just moved down from Alaska. Robert is Japanese and has cooked under or with every big name chef you can think of. He's been on Iron Chef teams, taken classes from Julia Child, competed all over the world. Normally Sharon May does the cooking for her guests, but he was there and itching to be in the kitchen. The only restriction she put on him was "don't buy more food. Just use what's in the pantry." He cooked not only breakfast for us, but dinners too. What the man could do with a can of green beans and the spices in her cupboard!! HE said the seasonings must never overwhelm or disguise the flavor. "How do you know which and what and how much to use?" He couldn't explain. He just knew.

On the night he cooked trout, I begged to watch since I love fish and always ruin it. All four burners were occupied. Three vegetable dishes going, plus a pan to carmelize onions, truckloads of butter, great splashes of extra virgin olive oil. Do you dip fish in a pan of mere milk and dredge in mere flour? NO. There must be curry, oregano, garlic, parmesan, a variety of pepper powders and green bits of this and that--each step in the process narrated with, "Is this not nice? This is lovely. This is beautiful. This will be perfect." He literally worshipped the food with his hands and words and eyes. He had no sense of humor whatsoever. I don't mean he was mean. I mean he was reverent and this was no place to crack jokes about too many zucchinis in the world. He regretted he was serving family style as opposed to plating the food. And you felt as you ate (with him eating right next to you) a lack of adequate adjectives to describe the pleasure. shoot me, but it was impressive.

Now, back to the Mays, Paul & Sharon. Between them, they had 13 children, 3 Indian Placement students, exchange students every year, plus a 6-member Vietnamese family for several weeks. They've never let the beds get cold, so they don't treat you as a paying guest. You're family. Thus we learned their unbelievable life stories.

At age 15, Sharon May was at a girls camp outside of Driggs when a thunder storm came up. Lightning struck the tree under which she and several girls were eating lunch. Four girls and one adult woman leader died. She herself suffered burns on the bottom of her feet, at every rivet point on her jeans, and on her right hip where a flashlight was stuffed in her pocket. The two girls on sitting on either side of her were some of those who died. What she remembers is waking on her stomach, with face in the dirt, feeling overwhelmingly sleepy. The lone Priesthood leader, who was knocked unconscious himself for a time, had to virtually perform triage on the mountain--sending some girls down for help, building a fire to keep the living/injured (8 or 9 girls) from further shock, and staying until men rode horses up to carry out the dead. Boy scouts climbed the mountain and improvised stretchers from logs and blankets. Sharon remembers being carried down and feeling scared because the climb up was so rocky steep, she wondered how they would get her safely down in the mud and rain.

At age 27, she was living in Valdez Alaska with her first husband and 3 little children. He made a living operating a tourist fishing boat, but supplemented with occasional longshoreman duties when cargo ships docked. On Good Friday, March 1964 he was on the dock unloading when the 9.0 earthquake hit. The dock, everyone on it, and a fish cannery disappeared into the bay forever. She was at work--a nurse--when the hospital walls split open and black sludge sewage spilled through. Her children, in the care of a babysitter, survived being thrown across a developing fissure when escaping their home, but the babysitter broke ribs and a leg attempting to jump it.
The quake lasted 5 minutes and the contents of her home were destroyed in the 4 ensuing tsunami waves that hit over the next 24 hours. Four days post-quake, as a shell-shocked new widow, still wearing the same clothes, the church flew she & her children home to her mother in SLC. Thirty three people died in Valdez, only 2 bodies recovered. That was the end of Alaska for her.

But the story gets better.

In the same month, Paul May, living in Granger, UT lost his wife to heart problems one month after she gave birth to their 4th child, a premature 2lb baby. The baby went to live with his mother while he regrouped with his children.

Whoa.....I've got to go to bed. Stay tuned for Part B.

Bang! Bang!

2009-09-13T15:49:00.001-07:00

I've never seen a gun in real life, never touched a gun, never shot one. When the guys in our singles ward heard this, they determined to "give Sister Nelson a proper education" in the sport of target shooting.

Thus Kevin and I joined 4 young adult gun lovers + our 77-yr-old ward clerk at the George Nourse outdoor gun range on Labor Day for a morning of bang-banging.

I was shocked. How many guns does a person need to have? How about 6 or 7 each, some inherited from their fathers, but most purchased at $450.00 each, at least. Then there's the bullets, ranging from $1.00 each to a box of 50 for $20.

So anyway, they set up targets by taping paper bull-eyes to cardboard boxes, weighted the boxes with rocks and we were in business for the next two hours.

Clip-loading: Hurts,pinches, requires some finger & hand strength.

Aiming: Right eye is useless, so that means shooting left-handed. Left hand has had a
tremor for several years.

Pulling triggers: No apparent strength in my left hand. Pulling, pulling, pulling, cringing and eyes mostly closed. Hey, why isn't this thing working? Then BANG!
I have shot my first gun--a magnum something or other. Frankly it looked like a toy, but the noise--OUCH! Yes I was wearing earplugs, but still it reminded me of a crack of thunder directly overhead. Physically painful in the ear.

So I shot half a dozen type of guns, ranging from a stubby handgun to magnums, glocks,
military rifles. Rifles are heavy, especially since I was using my weaker left side. I couldn't get through a 15-bullet clip without resting.

What did I hit? Hard to know. The bullets ripped through the boxes and raised alot of dust in the distant dirt.

Did you know the average handgun requires 6 lbs of finger pressure on the trigger, but a hair-trigger guns requires only 2lbs pressure? These are supposed to be strictly police-issue guns, though Bro. Barton managed to snag one years ago and was happily ping-pinging away.

Did you know the difference between regular and hollow-point bullets? Regular bullets leave the same size hole both entering and exiting the target. Hollow-points spread on impact and tear a much larger exit hole.

Did you know guns spit out shells as you shoot and they are HHHHHOTTT! I didn't know that until one landed on my neck and hung up on my shirt. I did a little dance of surprise with loaded gun in left hand. ouch, ouch and brushed it off with right hand. It raised a microscopic blister which I was proud to show off at work the next day. "Look at my wound from target shooting. Cool, huh?" By the way, as I am doing this dance, B.A. tells me, "Sis Nelson, When not actually shooting, keep your gun pointed at the ground instead of waving about towards whoever you're talking to."

The blister was not my only wound. I kept removing my earplugs to hear instructions. Bad idea. Now my right ear "hears" with the effect of being underwater. After one week, still no improvement.

Now that I have shooted, I can't see the attraction of going again. The boys love the sport enough to buy numerous guns, truckloads of ammo, concealed weapon permits, and they carry loaded guns everywhere, except church. They also love to watch violent movies and TV shows which, in my opinion, creates a mental paranoia of trouble lurking at every corner. Not ironically, each of these kids are stunted in post-mission life, doing nothing to further their education or marital prospects.

Today at church, B.A. approached me with great enthusiasm. "Sis Nelson, you've got to come with us again. This time we'll teach you how to shoot western rifles." (Think Matt Dillon and Gunsmoke.)

There you have it. I have lost my innocence. By the way, I also shot gangster style.

Holy haircut!

2009-05-04T16:30:00.000-07:00

I suffered a new haircutter person this week. My former cutter of many years retired due to cancer. I decided to take a risk, spend more money than the usual $15 and try out the place getting all the publicity nowdays. Studio D, situated halfway between home and work. I made an appointment with Sarah somebody, the telephone Enthusiasm Queen. YES, she would love to touch my thin, fine, gray hair. OUCH!!! $35.00 minus $10.00 for being a new client. OK so---I walk in and right away notice:

1. My $35 will be paying for the gorgeous layout, decor, and streamside setting
2. My $35 will be paying for the drinks they keep plying while I wait for Sarah
3. My $35 is paying for a shampoo/conditioning/head massage that takes twice as long as I spend in the shower daily. But I concede the massage just might be worth it.
4. I am decades older than anyone (client or stylist) in the building.
5. The woman Sarah has just styled looks like a skunk. As in bright, bright blonde hair on top. Black, black roots & underneath hair. Sarah has evidently also fried the blonde parts with a straightener giving the top tuft a straw-like appearance. But the customer is happy and still preening before the mirror as she pins her hair into a perfect bump-top ponytail.

"What-the-heck" I think as I unfold the 2 photographs I pulled off the internet the night before. Go ahead, Sarah. Try and make my hair look like an approximation of these pictures. Sarah studies the pictures and says "mullet" under her breath. She questions me carefully about length of hair on my neck and here's where I make my fatal mistake. I tell her the length I want, but forget to mention how much my hair shrinks from wet to dry. WHACK go her scissors and there will never be a mullet again. Me and my naked neck are still in shock. However I do like the rest of the style and other people seem to be complimentary. Sarah used the straightener appliance on me too, so I have been using Arielle's here at home. I'm able to do a decent job of looking more contemporary, spikey, strawish or whatever.

Will I go back? I'm on the fence, mainly because of the price. By the way, this is such a fancy schmancy salon, they even scanned my internet photos into their computer, expecting they have snagged a lifetime customer.

Wouldn't it be great if we had a functional camera right now?
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Have I explained the latest about my work, the economy, and how CHI plans to handle things? Here goes.

After months and months of emails from CHI headquarters bemoaning their sorry state and how employment freezes, retirements, and possible layoffs are the order of the day, we are notified of a special meeting on May 1. On May 1, we meet for a power point presentation where we learn:

1. One year earlier, before the economy tanked, CHI paid $6 million for a consultant group to study the revenue-generating process in CHI's 81 hospitals.
2. The consultancy says CHI is missing out on a considerable chunk of cash because of poor registration procedures when a patient checks in.
(I won't explain that, but it is a legitimate problem area.)
3. Registration departments need to be trained and trained and trained. (Never mind that this is an area of high turnover because of the in-your-face-stress of handling emergency situations. You can train and train all you want and the next day, you might have all new employees because this month's hires gave up.)
4. In order to accomplish all this needed training, CHI will divide their 81 hospitals into 7 geographic area and HIRE 26 NEW EXECUTIVES to
administer the training.
5. How will the new exec's be paid? Why of course--with all the additional money generated by improved registration procedures.
6. There will be no layoffs for us.

Listening to this, I'm running a simple math equation in my head. X (new money generated) - Z (salaries of new execs) = $0 Why not just improve registration processes and make more money? You gotta love consultants. If they don't stir the pot, they're not doing their job. But at least I'm not losing my job. I just have to work harder to pay for more middlemen.

Ode to the kitty

2009-04-12T10:45:00.000-07:00

One of our cats was killed by a pitbull yesterday. She (the cat) was on the porch watching Kevin mow the lawn. Kevin saw the dog come from nowhere, running into our open garage to explore. The cat sort of stalked towards the garage to keep her eyes on the dog. The dog saw her and gave chase. She ran into the garage where he snapped her up, shook her, and came out with her still in his jaws. Kevin grabbed the garden hose and hosed him down. The dog dropped the cat and ran down the street.

She wasn't torn up, but she's an old frail cat and she was obviously dying. He called me out wondering what to do. She just laid on her side moaning. Within minutes she died. Kevin wrapped and put her in the garbage can.

Right then Chanel arrived from Boise for her family b-day party. This cat was her childhood pet, born in 1996.

We went in the house crying & Kevin continued mowing. About 10 minutes later a lady was walking her min-pin across the street from our house. The pitbull showed up again, spun the lady, grabbed her dog, shook it, and ran. Traffic stopped in both directions and Kevin called the police. Police & animal control officer arrived. The min pin lost a piece of one haunch and it's back skin was hanging. It wasn't dead but wouldn't let anyone touch it.

While the police took Kevin's & the lady's story, the pit bull owner showed up. He was a kid in his 20's who said the dog had escaped his yard through his open garage and had only been gone 10 minutes before coming home.
The owner was very upset to hear what the dog had done, but he signed papers to have it put down Monday morning and animal control hauled him off. Meanwhile the min-pin was rolled into a carrier box and taken to a vet.

That's the story. We're surprised by our grief for an animal and to have a member of the family gone so suddenly and so strangely. She was our bulemic cat whom I thought would die from old age or starvation eventually. Never occurred to me that sitting on the porch was dangerous. Our big cat, who is 2 years older and never cared for the other that much, has paced the floors tonight.

I will not miss Pooperki's carpet messes or her Siamese voice, but she was very affectionate and good to have on a lap when watching TV. She liked us. The big cat barely tolerates us.

Playing the odds

2009-01-31T18:51:00.000-08:00

Prequel to the story: I work for Catholic Health Initiatives (CHI), a corporation which owns many,many hospitals all over the nation. My office is called a central billing office (CBO) because we bill for 8 hospitals. CHI has 3 CBOs in Nampa, Fargo, and Kentucky. My particular billing niche is commercial insurances such as all the Blue Cross plans + several dozen others insurances. Other coworkers bill the Medicare/Medicaid plans. And a third section of our office bills patients. All together we are expected to collect between $33-$36 million/monthly. The hospitals set the target--this is what it takes to keep their doors open, payrolls solvent, and capitol improvement projects funded. Generally we hit the goal, but there have been months (spread over the 8 years I've worked there) where we've missed by as much as
$4million in a month.

--------------
SO last week an email came from headquarters bemoaning the sorry state of the economy.
same old, same old. i.e. CHI's stock market investments are shriveling (just like everybody else's) so they can't use market profits to compensate for our collection shortfalls. With so many workers losing their jobs/insurances, patient censusses are down plus it's virtually impossible to get patients to pay big chunks of money such as an insurance company would.

Bottom line: There will be layoffs at the CBO. When or who? Nobody knows. There are 60 people in my office and management could spin the dice any which way. Going by seniority, I win. (Eight years is an eternity in my job.) Going by productivity level, I win again. Going by seniority in my particular dept, dicey. Going by steadfast personality (as opposed to drama, drama, drama) I really win. Going by cutest-grandchild-ever picture displays, I WIN BIG TIME!!!

Odds are I will stay employed. If not, I plan to turn alot of cartwheels to celebrate my freedom the first week. After that I guess I'll wake up & wonder why I didn't get
eyelids done and all those other surgeries that would have been free under my ins plan.

Stay tuned.............

What The Cat Thought

2008-12-28T22:17:00.001-08:00

Aaron & Melanie were in Nampa for the holiday. They consented to loan Morgan to us for his first overnight sleepover.

We don't have a crib but I thought he would do fine in Arielle's bed. (She was at Chanel's house for the weekend.)

So I jammied Morgan and took him into Arielle's room. There, ensconsced on a heaping pile of quilts lay the cat, Dashaway. She owns this bed, all the other beds, the couch arms, and all patches of sunshine on the floors 24/7. She took one look at Morgan; he chirped, "kitty, kitty, kitty"; she put on her grump face, and scrammed away.

We proceeded to pray, read stories, sing, etc and Morgan was completely happy to snuggle down. I turned off the light, left the door cracked slightly, and what followed was 30 minutes of silence. I was pretty sure he was asleep.

Meanwhile the cat must have forgotten her bed had a new occupant and jumped on again. Presently I heard Morgan in the hall chirping, "kitty, kitty, kitty?'. Dashaway dashed and I put Morgan down again.

Dashaway barely tolerates her people (us) and has no love whatsoever for strangers. Evidently, short little strangers are even worse. She spent the next 24 hours skulking and scowling, ever on the defense for the Young Usurper.

Why DO we keep her?

I "saw" Grandpa Ison

2008-12-19T15:42:00.000-08:00

An irrigation canal runs through our neighborhood. In warmer weather it's quite the hang-out for Mallards and geese because friendly people supply food.

Yesterday I was driving up the street when I saw a large white goose pacing about the curb next to the canal. But no--at closer range it was actually a very chubby and bright white Leghorn rooster. And a magnificent speciman he was, especially compared to the scraggly, manure-caked hens we grew up with.

I wondered why a rooster would be strolling the neighborhood. Nobody keeps chickens as pets. Nobody keeps chickens for food or eggs nowdays either. I had an incredible urge to pick him and bring him home.

I laughed. He must be a sign from God. (Who evidently dispenses humor along with His tender mercies.)

Got more patience than a 2-yr-old?

2008-12-05T18:50:00.000-08:00

Turns out I don't.

Aaron & Melanie took us on a grand tour of IKEA. Here's my description of IKEA. Teeny tiny bits of apartment furnishings in a GREAT BIG MONSTROSITY OF A STORE!!! Do you love to walk from Draper to Provo all under one roof? (And back again, because it's 2 floors.) Morgan does. He would make an excellent pioneer. I loved the looking but could have used a Sedgeway or Wickistick or wheelchair. Thanks goodness we sandwiched all this between visits to the IKEA restaurant for free breakfast and a Swedish meatballs lunch. By the way, this was Black Friday.

So we get back to A&M's apartment and I throw myself on their couch. Arielle, who has eked out $38.00 from her miniscule Subway wages and saved it for just such an occasion as Black Friday, says it's time for the University Mall. I had promised in a weak pre-Thanksgiving moment to take her to DEB, which has blue jeans her size and good sales. But after IKEA, I think clemency should be granted for lying to her. You are not getting me off this couch.

She begs, "But you promised and I want you to come and I need you to come!" repeat, repeat, repeat

Kevin throws in guilt, "Now Jana, you won't have that many more times of her wanting your company." "Well, heck", I think. I don't know which of the 3 people in this conversation I should be maddest at.

I surrender, with concessions.

Arielle pores over a map of the mall, finding the nearest entrance to Deb. Kevin drops us at the door. We walk two storefronts to Deb. She finds 2 perfect pair of jeans + a gorgeous blouse (marked down from $31.00 to $9.00) next door at Maurices, and we are DONE. May I never step foot in another mall on Black Friday.

You know what my favorite Christmas was? When Arianne & Ciarran did all my shopping for me. I had a hysterectomy as an excuse that year.

You want to be my new favorite niece? Come see me before Christmas.

8 different things

2008-11-12T19:35:00.000-08:00

TV shows
1. Everybody loves Raymond
2. So you think you can dance
3. Food unwrapped
4. that cake decorating show that's on cable
5. that "what you should wear" show on cable
6. that "buy the wedding dress" show on cable
7. Gen Conf ha ha guilt on the rest of you for not mentioning this
8. all the dejunking/house selling, remodeling shows on cable.
The thing is, we don't have cable. This is why hotel rooms are so fun. Unlimited cable and junkfood and Kevin

What I did yesterday
1. Woke up at 5:30AM thinking what I always think: "How soon before I can get back in this bed again?"
2. Worked 73 medical billing accts/did not lose temper
3. Read LA Times article on picketing LA Temple & all the comments attached to article. Decided Pro-props & anti-props will never speak the same language and never get each other.
4. Wondered if God was feeling like some Old Testament vengefulness If so, I was looking forward to it. KA-BOOOM
5. Told Arielle to pick up her room
6. Bought 5 loaves of the best Oat Nut bread
7. Drove Arielle to Subway ONLY because it was raining!!
8. Worked on my next SS lesson/banged head against wall, as is normal during early week prep

Looking forward to:
1. Saturday's BSU game
2. my lunch hour every day--its like a mini vacation from work
3. Thanksgiving
4. all weekends with Chanel
5. all weekends with Kevin
6. extracting cash from Aaron after winning yet another annual snow bet
7. reading to Morgan, playing with Morgan
8. sleeping in on Saturdays

Favorite restaurants--forget that. How about favorite food?
1. Focaccia bread
2. all forms of salt & grease wrapped around a potato
3. Cheetos
4. Pringles
5. Salmon
6. Pizza
7. Almond Joys
8. hamburgers cooked on a grill--smokey taste yum

Wish list
1. to move my house to a quiet street
2. to do a combo Disneyworld/cruise vacation with my kids
3. to take a writing class on a regular basis because it forces discipline
4. to be rich
5. to get a new kitten when the 2 elderly ladies die NOT a dog, Kevin
6. to take more vacations with Kevin and explore more interesting places
7. to knock the socks off my boss with awesome productivity so that he.........
8. ......pays me double for only working parttime
9. to see Arielle safely, happily, financially stabilly esconsed in college

Tag on:
Jocile
Angela
Lora Dawn
Kristen
Aaron
Arielle
Kevin
Chanel

Dad's gravestone

2008-11-09T20:30:00.000-08:00

It's finally up. I haven't seen it yet, but mom has and she was delighted.

This calls for a field trip.

"Drive on," I said.

2008-10-14T19:31:00.001-07:00

"Yes, Kevin, for our anniversary take clothing. You might be cold or wet or outdoors. We'll see how things develop."

With that, we hopped in the car for our anniversary weekend, pointed it towards Boise, and kept going. Passed exit after exit and at #173--"Take this one" I said. Twin Falls Idaho. Why there? I had a plan.

#1 I wanted to visit the sight of Rulon Keller's death. Remember him sisters? He was our home teacher when I was in my early teens. I loved him because he paid attention to me, not just my parents. He & two other LDS businessman hit a patch of black ice on their way to SLC and flipped their car into the Malad Gorge. Two of them died; the other lost a leg. Rescuers had to rappel into the canyon and one of them nearly lost his life. Afterwards dad's assessment was, "Of all the places on
Interstate 84 to hit black ice! It's just flat old desert for hundreds of miles and they had to go off road there."

I have been curious ever since. On the freeway you cross the gorge in half a blink and can't see a thing. Kevin and I spent several hours in the park, walking the footpaths, reading all the geology signs, and looking down down down into that narrow volcanic canyon where the Malad River is so compressed it roars and cuts the canyon ever deeper. I could not imagine how terrifying that rescue must have been or how they removed the car. Back then LifeFlight had not been invented but no pilot in his right mind would have descended into such a narrow slot anyway.

#2 Hagerman Valley. I tell you, it is one sweet drive from Bliss to Twin through this valley. Again, you can't see it from the freeway, but it is quite the contrast to drop down off the desert into 10,000 Springs, green pastures, trout hatcheries, and
colorful family fruit stands. You wouldn't expect Hagerman to have a chef in town, but they do. He's done game-cooking shows on the food network. I was set on having one of those trout I saw swimming earlier and it plus the wild rice were to die for.

#3 Temple Guess what? The Twin Falls temple does not rent clothing. So onto.....

#4 Herrett Planetarium & museum on the CSI campus. Well, we couldn't get our lazy selves out of the hotel in time for the 2PM star show, so we wandered the museum instead. You just never know where adventure awaits. It featured a Mayan history exhibit and was decked to the teeth like a jungle. (Think Indiana Jones ride @ Disneyland) This included boas and pythons and iguanas and neon poisonous tree frogs. At length I noticed an elderly gentleman opening the frog exhibits and tapping a canning jar coated in dust into the cages. "What for dinner?", I asked. "Wingless fruit flies" It truly did look like dust, but the frogs were hip hopping crazy all of a sudden.

This drew Kevin's attention which led to a conversation with Nick, the frog feeder. He said he was in charge of all the live animals in the exibit and in fact, had another 50 snakes and assorted reptiles in his basement offices. Did we want to see them? Yes we did.

Oh boy. Two hours later, I had seen a lifetime's worth. Turns out Nick was an amateur herpatologist who took snakes on the road for school, library, fair programs. He knew all his snakes by name and petted, cooed and talked to each as you would a beloved puppy. They were caged individually. He loved their colors, textures, and patterns. He knew all there was to know about their native countries. (These were exotic snakes, acquired from local pet owners who grew tired of the upkeep. No venomous snakes though) He detailed which had been abused as evidenced by their behavior when he got them and how it took 6 months to gentle abused snakes before they gave up attacking and biting at each feeding. We heard the story of the python who escaped into the ceiling. Nick, who knew every nook and cranny of the building, crawled up after him with fresh rat scent on his hands. The snake, catching the scent, leaped and coiled tight around Nick's arm, sinking his teeth in a full circle around Nick's wrist. SNakes have the kind of teeth you can't pry off. So Nick scrambled down the ladder to the nearest sink and held it's head under cold water. VIOla! He had a photograph to show us the bite marks and he said snakes don't have dirty mouths like dogs, so no infection.

We also learned by personal experience one thing they don't teach you on Animal Planet. An 80 lb python releases it bowels and bladder when shedding skin and makes a STINK to rival chicken manure! This was magnified by the deliberately close, warm, humid environment in which Nick kept him plus his 30 stinky snakey roommates which Nick insisted on showing/fondling one at a time. Thus proving to us yes, you can eventually become accustomed to one of the 10 worst odors in the world.

#5 We wondered why our hotel breakfasts were crowded with college kids in tight Wranglers, pointy boots, spurs and cowboy hats. CSI was hosting an intercollegiate rodeo with teams from all over Idaho & Utah. I like rodeo and I liked this even better than the Stampede. Smaller arena, up close viewing, rodeo stock every bit a jumpy as at professional rodeos.
I had never seen girl's goat-tying before. I will describe. A timid and trembly little goat is tethered at one end of the arena. bleeeat A girl on horse, charges from the opposite end, leaps from the horse, grabs the poor goat, slams him down on one side, and ties his feet. Well it was no wonder they had needed a fresh goat for each girl. I mean, I sat nose to barrel during the barrel racing and when those girls came tearing down the lane, you had to wonder if you wouldn't end up with horse and rider in your lap. Poor baby goats. I felt their fear.

The announcer was a hoot. Midway he announced the freeway between Burley & Utah was closed down for snow . "So you cowboys who reckoned on drivin' home tonight best git yerself to Walmart and buy a sleepin' bag instead."

So that was our anniversary. Snakes and cowboys. You don't see those on your average Caribbean cruise. (And the hotel served big fat cookies every afternoon.)

Finally, it pays off

2008-10-05T15:54:00.000-07:00

So last night I took the family out for Oreo milkshakes at Jack in the Box. The gal rings up my total, then looks at me sort of funny and asks, "How old are you?" I had to think for a split second. "Hmmm, I believe that would be 55."

"Then you get a senior discount." she replied, subtracting 50 cents off each milkshake.

I fairly flipped cartwheels right there in front of my family. YESSSSS! I love this age.

Meanwhile, Kevin stood shaking his head behind me. He thinks I am being ridiculous. He'll never have this thrill because he won't admit to anything beyond 29.

-------------
Note to Aaron and his Christmas wish list. Pssshaw! For you, I'm going off list

In honor of Halloween: a spider story

2008-09-21T11:13:00.000-07:00

My first job out of college was in the management program for K-Mart. My first store was in San Bernardino, CA.
One of the store areas for which I was responsible was the garden shop. This included an outdoor area with aisles of bedding plants and flowers. Reporting to work daily at 8AM, I was supposed to walk through the plant aisles to reach the alarms panel or light panel, or some such device necessary for opening the store.

And what did I find? Not one aisle was safe to walk through. All night long--everynight--garden spiders, hundreds of them spun giant orb webs connecting aisle to aisle, petunias to pansies, rose bushes to venus flytraps. There they hung, all 8 legs spread-eagled in center of webs, big as Cadillacs, ugly as sin. It was my worst nightmare, compounded by the rest of the management team convulsed with laughter over sending the latest sucker, ME, to turn on the lights.

I can't remember how I handled it. Probably I conned an employee.

The thing is, by the time the store opened at 10AM, all spiders and webs had disappeared. Shoppers thronged, never knowing what was evidently lurking under leaves. At dusk, the spiders were on the job again.

You might want to consider this they next time you buy bedding plants. Check under the leaves.

Add this to one of the several dozens reasons I hated my year working for K-Mart. I've had two horrid, no good, very bad years in my lifetime. K-Mart and 6th grade.

2008-09-17T15:37:00.000-07:00

Now if only someone would invent a Spider Death Laser. The spiders of September are moving indoors. Kevin sat at the table reading the morning paper & killed 4 honkin aberrations. I give him points for killing though. Usually he scoops them into canning jars, turns them loose in the hedge. I know for a fact they can run back to the house faster than he.

And our cats--such useless old ladies. They've nary a smidgen of aptitude for spidering.

I invite you to vote: Is releasing spiders back to nature far past the extreme edge of compassion?

This is for Morgan

2008-09-14T20:08:00.000-07:00

Hey Morgan, Your aunt Chanel and I have shopped til we dropped for your birthday present. YES!!--we conquored. We can hardly wait for your birthday. hurry up, hurry up, hurry up

Spoke too soon

2008-09-14T17:01:00.000-07:00

Never, never, never brag about not having a church calling. This is what I'm saying.

Teacher Development--I've done the calling several times before and find it to be a squeamish position. You don't want to ruin anybody's testimony or confidence but after sitting thru week after week of Sominex lessons (in all settings and age groups) you want to knock heads together.

Is it too much to ask a teacher to open their manual more that 24 hours before the lesson?

Ah well--we'll see how teachable college kids are.

Best things about a single's ward

2008-09-07T08:38:00.000-07:00

1. It's 9:30 AM (Sunday) and I'm still in my jammies. Love, love, love that 1PM Sac Mtg slot.

2. Break-the-fast I don't have to cook on Fast Sundays

3. Monday night home evenings---way more fun than we Nelson were having on our own. I believe Kevin & I are tired after 32 years of Monday nights to plan. Nowdays we simply show up, whack golf balls, volleyballs, softballs or whatever other ball game they're playing and eat. Clarification: I do the above. Kevin gets waylaid to his office to accept confessions.

4. No church calling for me. The kids run the show and some have been adamant about NOT wanting the adult women's input or expertise. I'm all over that. Miriam Adamson, the former Bp's wife, described her job as the biggest church vacation ever.

5. My former 8th Ward members heaped loads of sympathy and condolences upon me. At first I thought I was entitled to such, but now I see I should be deflecting it back to them. 8th warders have all the work and I have all the fun.

6. My little black book--slowly but surely filling up with the names & interesting details of ward members. I study it before each Sac Mtg and thus walk in prepared to be friendly on a first name basis. Because of the constant turnover, some of the girls (and the counselors wives) have told me they simply can't keep up with new names and faces. Well hey, I tell them to get a black book. It's reputation proceedeth me. The kids say, "Here she comes with that book. Sis Nelson, what have you got written about me in there?" I declare--THIS shall be my church calling: Black Book Specialist

7. Kevin is focused. He juggles one ball now instead of a dozen. And he can't be grumpy at home anymore, because guess what? Inspiration does not flow when you bark at your wife. tee hee hee hee hee This is me doing a happy dance.

8. Just once in awhile, now and then, only sporadically we Bishoprickers get to plan a Monday Night Bishopric Special. First turn is coming up in 2 weeks. It's gonna be Nelson family games. i.e. the flour & marble game, pig out on cake game, and
thimble-of-water-in -your-face game. or some such hilarity

9. My friends at work, who don't really understand Mormon church structure, occasionally ask, "So how is Kevin's ......um....
uh..... um..... pastoring going?"

10. I'm pretty happy. My life has always been good. Now it's better.

Cut from the same cloth

2008-08-30T16:53:00.000-07:00

It used to bother me when Arielle planned her future to the minute, always needing to know the next fun activity while in the midst of the current. example: We go to Disneyland (or some such place) and she wants to know "what are we going to do next?"
I always said, "Can't you appreciate THIS moment, the one for which you've been planning that last 6 months?" She said, "Mom, I always have to have something fun to look forward to."

Well amen, sister! I quit knocking this trait in her when I finally realized I do the same thing. Best way to cure the post-vacation blues? Plan the next one.

So I pleased to announce that 30 days after our return from the Oregon Coast, I have nailed down our 32nd wedding anniversary agenda.

For those of you who don't know, Kevin & I take turns surprising each other. This requires much secrecy, teasing, and inventiveness to match the yo-yo nature of our budget. We've had our adventures such as:

•sleeping in a barn
•getting deathly ill after a seafood dinner (the tuna wasn't supposed to be raw)
•riding a Grayhound bus full of white-haired seniors, older than us by decades
•celebrating Morgan's birth
•literally tasting the water at Soda Springs
•importing Mom Nelson from S. Cal for a weekend of getting-to-know-her-better
•riding the Thunder Mountain Express

This year: ha ha Like I'm going to tell. It does involve somewhere we've never been before, culinary daring, and volcanic rock.

Back to Arielle and me: Evidently we two live for the breaks in ordinary life. I've worked for CHI almost 8 years now. Previous to that I had never held a job for more than 1 year. I think it was a shock to the system to re-discover the vacation parsimony of employed life. I traded away free time for income, which income pays for my vacation fixes, pitifully parceled out though they may be. Too much irony.

In the meantime, I mapquest and drool about the keyboard in anticipation of October.

Home Federal--your're fired!

2008-08-23T11:17:00.000-07:00

Hey Tiffany, If you read this let me know if it brings out your inner pit bull.

So--Mom Ison received her government stimulus check. On Tuesday evening, she endorsed it. I sealed it in an envelope along with a deposit slip. and dropped it in the night deposit box at Home Federal in Nampa.

Wednesday: (about noon) Mom gets a call from Angie @ Home Federal saying the envelope contained nothing but the deposit slip. Angela calls me. I call Angie at the bank. I ask her to detail their nightbox opening procedures. She says she (customer service manager) and Lead (June) are the only 2 people who work the box. Together they unlock box, take contents to a separate room, open all envelopes with a letter opener, log contents on a daily master sheet, and do the deposits. She suggests I should search mom's home and my car. I tell her this is a government check, printed on a heavier, stiffer paper stock which made the envelope heavier and I'm quite sure it still felt heavy and stiff when I dropped it in the night box. Nevertheless I will search home and car.

Naturally nothing turns up, but we have, thank goodness, saved the letter from the Treasury Dept which came with the check.
I call the 800-number and spend one hour on hold listening to continuous loops of the Blue Danube Waltz and Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. A very nice Mr. Roberts finally answers and directs me to a government website from where I can download a
"Missing/Stolen" check form. He says fill it out, have mom sign it, mail back, and it will take 6 weeks to replace the check.

By the way, this is a $1200.00 check.

I call mom Wednesday evening and tell her this is the best I can do. I go to bed questioning my memory of handling the check and the bank's integrity. I handle deposits for our business all the time and am very, very precise in my procedures. There is absolutely no way the check went missing between mom's dining room table and the night box. I pray, "Heavenly Father, I know you know where that check is. Help?"

Thursday: I go to work and download the government missing check form. I am disheartened to read, "The law does not allow us to issue a replacement check if you endorsed it and someone other than you cashed the check, since that person didn't forge your signature." Great.

I call Angie at the bank again. Tell me once more your nightbox procedures. She does. Tell me what would likely happen if this endorsed check is floating around somewhere. She says mom's photo ID is required to cash it and if the culprit signed their name under mother's, Home Federal never cashes 2-party checks. Is this standard banking procedure? She says she can't speak for other banks. (and I'm thinking what about grocery stores? instant cash stores? etc etc?) I ask if she still has the envelope and deposit slip. I want to see them. (Though I don't know what good it will do. Perhaps jog my memory?)
She says yes and she will give me a photocopy of them too. I explain I intend to pursue a Stop Payment with the Treasury Dept.

I go to the bank after work and officially meet Angie. She disappears to make the photo copy, taking alot longer than necessary for a such a simple task, and returns with a very puzzled look.

Angie: Evidently I am out of the loop. We found the check and it was deposited to your mother's account 10AM yesterday.
Me: Where did you find it?
Angie: I don't know. June, who opened the nightbox with me, is in a meeting right now. When she gets out I will quiz her and call you. I'm very curious and disturbed about this. Have you requested the Stop Payment yet? If you have, it creates a whole new problem.

Of course I hadn't yet. She gives me a print-out of mom's checking acct activity of the last week so I can see evidence the check was deposited.

June calls me at home an hour later. She is groveling with apologies. "I am so so so sorry. I found the check loose in the nightbox and put it in your mom's acct and failed to tell anybody. (This means the check hit the account before Angie called mom to inform it was missing. Classic case of right hand not knowing what left hand is doing.)

Me: But how do you suppose it got loose?
June: Maybe your envelope wasn't sealed?
Me: But Angie said you open all envelopes with a letter opener. If it was unsealed, you wouldn't need to use the opener.
June: I don't know. It's standard procedure.
Me: Well, the check is back where it belongs, which is the whole point. So I'm happy and goodbye.

More apologies all around and we hung up.

Hurrah, but something still stinks in Denmark.

Had it been truly lost, the government never would have replaced it. I was pretty much resigned to kissing $1200.00 goodbye and grateful mom didn't desparately need the money. Still I would love to have been a fly on the wall in the discussion between Angie & June. And I do wonder--is it possible for a bank employee to quietly slip an endorsed check into a till and remove $1200.00 with nobody the wiser?

I still intend to use the lost check form on behalf of mom. She was supposed to receive a $250.00 social security death benefit about 2 months after dad died. It never came and I was too distracted to pursue it. Stay tuned.

Michael Jordan Phelps

2008-08-17T15:46:00.000-07:00

Yes--that's his name--our 20-year-old former home teacher. His sports-obsessed father named him after the BB player and 20 years later he's famous again. Our Michael Phelps is cuter than Olympic Michael Phelps and he has a better tan because he lifeguards at Wild Waters.

The Olympics are killing me. I simply cannot go to bed before midnight for 2 weeks every 4 years.

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Aaron & Melanie, thanks for a great visit. I think your apartment is cute and "very adequate" (quoting Grandpa Ison--his all purpose highest compliment) The spaghetti dinner and garlic bread were delicious. I slept like a log on the squishy air mattress. I loved playing with Morgan!!! I can see how much his vocabulary and comprehension are expanding. I can imagine all sorts of fun to be had with him. As for his newly developing temper--tee hee--I'm a grandmother and am happy to enjoy you two puzzling out this stage of life. Thanks for showing me your neighborhood. It made me feel better to get you "fixed" in the world and my mind's eye.

My week was full of fun events:
WEDNESDAY: My 55th birthday. I love this age. Life just keeps getting better. We celebrated at Olive Garden.

THURSDAY: The Kiwanis Chuckwagon. Grandpa Ison bought the tickets post-humously. This year construction at the College of Idaho decimated the closest parking lots so the Chuckwagon shuttled people from the back 40 via yellow schoolbuses. Grandma was a good sport about climbing those high bus steps. I wonder if she's ever ridden a schoolbus before.

SATURDAY: Twin Falls Temple open house. Alot more kids from the ward signed up than actually showed up, so we valiant 17 didn't have to share seats. Yellow schoolbus again. If there is a way to actually get comfortable on one of those, I don't know what it is. So we bouncy-bounced to Twin and back with a 99 degree breeze flowing throughout. I did love seeing the temple though. The contrast between the Celestial room and the rooms previous was absolutely stunning. Our tour guide requested silence and even the toddler (who had chirped and jabbered during the entire tour) went perfectly still. The room emanated with a feeling of respect. After lunch, I also enjoyed winding down into the canyon to visit Shoshone Falls.

I love you 3.

--Jana

In utah

2008-08-09T09:06:00.000-07:00

What you see is stock photo of Morgan, not the real deal.

Got in at 1AM after an 80MPH drive. Angela's twin brother was driving and since I was in the back seat I couldn't see the road and freak. Only one car tried to sideswipe us in SLC. Hey--get in your own lane mister!!! Angela has a GPS system which she named Rowena. Rowena, naughty girl, got us lost at the final 5 minutes. But then she repented and reprogrammed herself from an obscure parking and led us forth. Rowena also counts down your miles for you so you always have the answer to the question, "Are we there yet daddy?"

Aaron is planning to buy his own Rowena before the Missouri trip.

It felt very James Bondish to know a space satellite was tracking us.

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I woke this morning hearing Morgan chirping, "meemee? meemee? meemee?" (mommy)
So I walked in his room. Silence. He reminded me of the wide-mouth frog's reply to the alligator. "o"

But now we are friends.

So far we are striking out on Aubrey and Tiffany.

Vampire book update: Melanie is at page 25.

Hey kids!!!

2008-08-07T17:22:00.000-07:00

All these years I thought the reason for having children was so they could do the dishes. I'll be darned. They're good for setting you up on blogs too. Thanks Arielle.

And thank you Melanie--your're my blogger inspiration. You put a new thought in my brain like hey, Jana, maybe the old dog can learn a new trick.

Hopefully Arielle can teach me how to add pictures too, another trick for the old dog. I can count on both hands the number of snapshots I've ever taken in 55 years. I've got too much of Grandpa Ison's temperment to either pose or shoot patiently.

Well kids, off with the old me. I soon expect to be butting heads with dad for computer usage.

hmmm? Does a person sign off???? wind down? salutate?