When it comes to technology, Hubby is seriously challenged. I say that with love and with my lips held firmly together to keep from laughing at him. At least where he can see it, because I don't want to discourage him from trying out new ideas. Some things work great, when the person using it knows what they're doing, and then there's my poor Hubby. Who has provided me with the first laugh of my day.

The nature of his business requires that he drive all over our county plus a few of the surrounding counties. When I'm sending him into unfamiliar territory I usually do a Mapquest and get a printout for him. He then either loses it in the truck someplace or commits it to his faulty memory and...gets lost. Now, I'm not out with him yet somehow his being lost because he didn't look at the driving directions is my fault. I have actually had him call me on the phone after he has taken a left turn when he should have taken a right turn, and gripe at me because the "directions" I gave him are wrong. Or I put the wrong address in, or I did something I wasn't supposed to do. I agree I did something I wasn't supposed to. I trusted him to FOLLOW the directions.

Recently another likewise challenged trucker friend showed him this newfangled deal called a MioMap DigiWalker. Like OnStar or other GPS systems installed on vehicles, it talks you through the drive. His son picked it up for him at our local RadioShack, and programmed it to take him home from there and it worked great. He even made a few wrong turns just to test it. It reprograms a route to your destination from your current mistake so there always is a way to get to where you are going with a minimum of trouble. That is... unless you're my Hubby.

I programmed in his destination last night, and he decided to play with all the features. It has a touchpad screen and you can travel with your finger through all different areas. The problem is, everytime your finger doesn't move, the system records the address at which your finger has stopped. Then it stores it in memory. So, when he went to start it, guess who couldn't find the address he is supposed to go to? With his playing around he now has addresses in memory in Arizona, Maryland, and Washington DC. Since he also "walked" his fingertip through the route he's supposed to drive there are 10 addresses on the street he's supposed to go to now entered into it's memory.

To make our lives easier, he spent $228 plus tax on a MioMap, which in anybody elses hands will do exactly what it's supposed to do. Unfortunately, this little bit of modern technology is in the hands of Hubby, and it will make him late for his first appointment because it isn't doing what it's supposed to. I'd have more sympathy for his plight if he wasn't going to an area that he's familiar with. Without his new toy he should have been able to arrive on time, with no problem, because he's been there before. He only has 4 customers living on that road. It's highly unlikely that the road has been moved to some other place. I had to call the customer and apologize for Hubby's tardiness and assure him that he is on his way. I just didn't mention that he's driving through Arizona, Maryland and Washington DC first, and that it's all my fault.

Now that I'm awake, and have had some sleep, I have isolated what about that 24/7 case bothers me when I have to work it. Number one is not knowing where anything is, and number two is my lack of experience handling a client that in his own words is "jelly". He can't stand for any length of time, and although my mind can supply the concept of speed dressing, transferring it to action was a lot more difficult than I thought. I was frankly inept and this could lead to a fall. I won't refuse to go, and I won't demand that he stay in bed nor would I leave him in wet clothing for someone else to take care of. Now, since neither of these two problems can be rectified without help, I have asked for some. I have asked to be allowed to go and orient with one of the more experienced aides, and that will happen tonight. I will go at a time when the other aide will be there while I get him ready for bed, and she can instruct me in the actualities of the process rather than leaving me to work through it on my own. Part of the process is encouraging the client to assist more, but I'm not sure what he's actually capable of and if you ask too much of someone in his position, you may be creating a disaster.

I've been approaching this situation with a negative attitude and I hadn't really been aware of it. I'm big on doing the right thing and get frustrated with others whan they don't. However, maybe I'm frustrated because I am setting myself up as the final authority on what the right thing to do is. Whose decision is it anyway? Frankly, not mine. I'm judging others when I have no right to. I don't think this is a good thing.

I was called last night about 11:30 by the on-call for another office of ours. She had a problem and had to go back to the office. When she pulled up she saw something that indicated there was someone else in the building. Her husband was with her and he went in to check it out and couldn't find anyone. They still believed that there was someone there, and they didn't call the police because she didn't want to be tied up all night with them. None of what she did was right, in my estimation, and I found myself wanting to say that to her. They should have called the police as soon as they saw the light on that was not on when they went into the building. I never asked her a question, I said absolutely nothing except that I'll relay the information she gave me to my office in the morning.
When I relayed the problem this morning I didn't add a single opinion on my part, I just gave the facts as she gave them to me. No editorializing on my part is going to change what happened or didn't happen in any case.

Nothing I do or say is going to change what happens. I'm on my way to achieving comfort with that knowledge and that surprises me. I didn't lose a bit of sleep over it either. I resolved last week to live my life not my job, and I think maybe last night and this morning I've set my feet upon that path. Now, I need to figure out how to get some sleep before I get called in to work a midnight shift and I'd be all set. Maybe I need to go to bed earlier? Maybe I just need to accept that it isn't something that happens all the time, and it is just one of those punches I need to roll with.

Some impulses can lead to situations with unexamined consequences. Last fall, when I agreed to train as a Home Health aide, I didn't stop to think about the fact that I'd get called in to work, frequently. I was thinking in terms of the two hour cases and having to do them here and there. I did not think about the fact that the company I work for is not being run by the sharpest pencils in the box, nor that they allow the employees to take too much time off, without any consequences.

We have a 24/7 case which means we have a greater responsibility to the client than the standard 2 hour cases we do. So, explain to me why we put aides in there that have to take time off for a bad hair day? Why are we not staffing this case with responsible reliable aides? I'm told they don't exist. I've worked at that company for 8 years now, and since the duo of Mr. 51% and Mrs 49% took over, the quality of employee is deteriorating. I wonder if the fact that they don't really interview these people has anything to do with it?

No one with any judgement interviews these people. We have an application packet. A prospective employee fills it out, provides the proper credentials. We send out the forms to the prior place of employment, and wait until they return. The candidate gets the physical and all the shots and they go to work, or start the training class.

Since the federal government, in it's infinite wisdom, passed the HIPPA act, NO hospital, nursing home, or other healthcare agency will give you information regarding the employee. Policy is to confirm dates of employment only. Which means that if this is a deadbeat that doesn't do his/her job, doesn't show up half the time or has sticky fingers, we don't know about it. If the prior employer caught the person abusing someone and didn't press charges, we don't know about it. We can't hire known felons, but the operative word here is KNOWN. If they have no record we can't know about it unless someone pressed charges. Once in a very great while someone in Human Resources will have a conscience and call and tell us quietly that we don't want that person. We can't tell the employee why they aren't working under this circumstance, but it beats the alternative.

It used to be the training class that weeded out the deadwood, but we have a supervising nurse who sees to it that they pass the course. We haven't had any problems with light fingered employees, no abuse has occured and those that don't do their jobs usually don't last. Employees that only show up when they feel like it is our problem. Plus, they all seem to be employed at the 24/7 case. At least I had an hours sleep last night before I got called in to work, plus I wasn't on call after 8 this morning so I did get a few more hours sleep. This morning the co-ordinator pointed out to me that without information from the prior place of employment we have no way of knowing what kind of employee we're hiring. I beg to differ with that statement.

When I'm reading an application packet and work history, I find that there are clues that one can see. For instance, one person claimed to have worked three jobs in her life. That's fantastic and would be great if it was the truth. The problem I saw was that she worked all three jobs at overlapping times in 3 different states. The nursing supervisor never noticed this. Another clue is when the past employment history indicates all 3 jobs took place in the same year. My personal choice here would be to have the candidate come in and give her reasons for this history. Do we do this? Nah, we might hear something we don't want to and lose a perfectly useless employee. Can't have that now, can we?

I have found that while I love to read, I don't enjoy reading books on-line. There's something about curling up in my favorite chair on a rainy day, with nothing to do but turn the page and devour the words written on it, that is infinitely more pleasurable than reading the same book on line. Reading is an appetite that apparently requires an ambiance much like that of a fine dining experience. If I'm planning to dine out for relaxation and entertainment, do I plan on going to McDonalds? Do you pick a quiet restaurant where you are familiar with the menu and wait staff, and can then be assured of an excellent meal? Do you reserve a table at the latest hot spot in your area? The right presentation of food choice can make even the most unexciting menu that much more palatable. When dining we actually bring all of our senses to the table, not just that of taste.

When you enter a favorite restaurant you see the decor that is pleasing to the eye. You feel the various textures of tablecloth, napkins and tableware. You detect the subtle odors of mouthwatering entrees that emanate from the kitchen, and finally you taste the food so attractively plated and set on the table to be consumed. We are pleased or not, as the case may be, by the combined fullfillment of all of our senses. Everything comes into play and creates a pleasurable dining experience. Change just one element of that experience, and it detracts from our overall pleasure. Imagine walking into a restaurant and smelling, instead of the aroma of a cooked pot roast, the foul odor of rotten eggs. There is nothing comfortable about that odor and it will detract from the experience. I would wonder whether the food was safe to eat if I were smelling that. Am I smelling sulphur water from the well? Are there really rotten eggs in the kitchen? Will I stay and order a meal here? Decidedly not.

I read for pleasure so everything must contribute to my senses in a way that guarantees my enjoyment. Sitting in a straight backed chair and reading other blogs is fine, because they are short. I can enjoy that, but to sit and read an entire book requires something entirely different. I know this because I have been trying to read Edith Wharton's "The Age of Innocence" for months now and can't get past the third chapter. It's been an experience comparable to reading the assigned book in 10th grade English class, on which I have to write a book report. That was the year that I was introduced to Authors Purpose. No more could I read entirely for the pleasure of reading, now I had to delve into the mind of the author and determine his or her purpose for writing this book. For me, this was next door to smelling rotten eggs in a restaurant when I was hungry.

Instead of losing myself in the storyline and living vicariously the life of whatever character appealed most to me, I now had to know why the author wrote this book. Was he trying to persuade me to change my mind about something? Was the purpose to inform me about a wrong that needed righting? Was the entire story there for no reason except that of entertaining? Why do any of these Authors Purposes need to apply? Whose idea was it that there even had to be a purpose?

I write because I am driven to write, and I know that there are others that do the same. Some days I have absolutely nothing to write about that is worth reading, yet I am compelled to write about that nothing. I don't write to persuade any one of anything. Sometimes I write to inform others of what I think about something. I write to entertain, but am looking to entertain myself. I write to explore my own emotions, to find my weaknesses and my strengths. I write when I'm angry and can resolve my issues by doing so. I write when I'm sad. I write when I'm happy. I write when I've lost my way. On occasion I write something that touches others lives in a way that I hadn't thought about, nor intended.

There are two million blogs in the blogosphere, and that number is increasing daily. Blogstream's membership increases, and we here are but a drop in the two million plus bucket. In the last three weeks two people have established accounts here in Blogstream for the purpose of commenting on my blog because I have touched them in some way. They have blogs elsewhere and have found me through Google alerts. I assume these alerts are keyword specific. I have no idea what a Google alert is, or how it works. Yet these Google alerts are allowing other bloggers on other sites to find and bookmark me. I have actually found two other blogs that have used lines from some of my posts in their posts. In one I was given credit by nickname and they linked back to my site with the sentence or paragraph that they "borrowed". Click on the colored sentence and voila, the post they borrowed it from appears on your screen. There are a total of 7 outside of Blogstream blogs that are linked to me.

I'd like to ask them why? In order to do so, I'd have to become a member of their blog site and since they aren't all on the same site, I'd be a member at 5 or 6 other sites in the blogosphere. That's too much for me, because it appears that unlike Blogstream, you can't just join to comment, you have to create a blog. I have one, thank you. It's my place and you're all welcomed to it. It's just me and my original and not always worthwhile thoughts going on, but just like the Motel 6 commercial says "I'll leave the light on for you".

I was talking to my stepmom yesterday while she was taking a break from her hunt for Dad's discharge papers. She believes they were destroyed in the fire they experienced back in the late 60's but she thought she'd take a look for them anyways. They are needed, and the funeral director can obtain copies but it would save time if she had them. So, she's poring over papers and looking into boxes of accumulated items to see if they still exist. She was complaining to me that she thought she had managed not to save so much stuff, but the reality was proving her wrong. I myself have a secret stash of junk that I keep saying I will sort out and dispose of but that seems to be scheduled for a tomorrow that somehow hasn't happened yet.

The tone of her voice was very much one of frustration and resignation combined. You are resigned to the fact that you haven't found what you're looking for amidst all this stuff and frustrated because every time you think you've looked at all of it, you find more. My theory is that it actually multiplies when you're sleeping. You keep finding things that you have no recollection of ever having seen before, and furthermore, why would you have wanted to save it in the first place? Apparently there is no rhyme or reason for what we save, nor for why we save it.

Clearing out years of accumulated junk is a task that in my side of the family has twice fallen to Aunt Betty and myself. Once when we were moving my Grandmother, (her mom-in-law) in with my Mom, and she was kind enough to help me when Mom moved from a larger appartment into a senior citizens much smaller apartment. Both times were eye opening experiences for us and I remember distinctly that we swore we wouldn't accumulate this type of nonsense. I don't believe we stuck to that resolve, but that's another story.

Some of the stuff you find when you do this is pretty disgusting, at the time, but becomes in retrospect a source of much humor. Which was the case in this particular instance. We were cleaning out an old bombay trunk of Grandma's when we encountered two things that I knew were there, but had forgotten about. We found Great Grandma's fur coat and a shoebox that had a braid made out of Great grandma's hair residing in it. I remember Aunt Betty's screeching, there is no other word for the noise she made, but I don't remember which item caused the screech. I think it was the coat.

The coat was at some point of it's life a Fox Fur coat. I remember Mom wearing it on special occasions in the early 50's but it disappeared from view when we moved into Grandma's house after the divorce. Unfortunately for the coat, Grandma had stored it wrapped in a black or dark green plastic garbage bag and it had resided for years at the bottom of this trunk. It is said that hair doesn't deteriorate even after death, but I believe they are talking about hair that is no longer connected to a hide of any sort. Plus, I don't think wrapping it in plastic was a good idea either. It's hard to describe what actually had happened to it, suffice it to say, it was infected by some sort of mold. The hair in the shoebox fared much better. Thankfully it wasn't wrapped in plastic.

It was a Victorian custom to collect the hair of the deceased and have it made into jewelry or artwork of some kind. This was why Grandma had the hair. Unfortunately she never found anyone who knew what to do with it so it never achieved the desired result and resided for all that time in a shoebox. All that time would have been 35 or so years.

There was quite a lot of it, much more than would have been needed in order to fashion jewelry from it. I know this because after remembering this particular incident I went on-line and researched the topic. Until I found the website that the following pictures came from, I had no idea what hair jewelry would have looked like. I'm not sure I would want to wear any of this jewelry if I knew what it was made from, but I must say it is rather attractive. I guess Grandma wasn't that eccentric after all.