Goodbye to Kate, Liv ails and a new job?

Plus...that debate last night. Was it just me or was that one of the most boring debacles that you ever sat through? I nearly fell asleep. Good god, those mandated rules pretty much discouraged any sort of decent back and forth. I have often been bored by McCain (and frankly his overeager down home boy dance leaves me frowning) but rarely have I yawned while listening to Obama. I did last night. Yawned and yawned and yawned.

I woke up this morning and went in Liv's room to get her up for school. She was feverish and glassy eyed. Said that her throat hurt, her head hurt, her eyes burned. I took her temp. It was 102. Poor baby. I gave her some tylenol and told her to sleep in. Asked her if she felt like eating anything. She asked for the mushroom soup that she likes when she is feeling sick. Some kids like chicken noodle. Liv likes mushroom soup. I promised to make some (recipe following, yes...you heard correctly...I am going to actually post a recipe that even I can make...)

I called Hal and Nora (the neighbors that get her off to school each morning.) They immediately went into their grandparent mode and offered to run to the grocery store to get anything Liv might want or need. I rattled off the ingredients that I needed for mushroom soup and they said they'd go right away. I told them that it wasn't THAT important, they didn't need to hop to it and my heart was touched when they responded with, "But, if Liv is feeling badly, we want to HELP!"

I almost choked up. Liv only has one grandparent, her father's mother, but she lives on a reservation in South Dakota and sees her only once or twice a year. I love it that Hal and Nora have become her stand in grandparents. It does take a village and they are so, so generous with their time and attention. So, I simply thanked them.

Then I called the hospital to say that I would not be in today. Rossi, the department head, was already there (it was only SIX a.m...that is job dedication, I suppose) and he reminded me that I would be missing Kate's last day on the job. I sighed. Remembered that Kate was moving on to go into private practice once again. I had been trying not to think about it. She was one of my favorites at work.

"So, you'll miss the goodbye luncheon. We ordered ching chang..," he said.

I reminded him that it is called chinese food not ching chang and said that I would call Kate later in the week to personally say goodbye.

"Don't you go and catch Liv's cold," Rossi implored me, before we hung up.

Your mouth to god's ears as my dearly departed sainted Irish mother would have said....

Then, I called Liv's school and wouldn't you know it, the head mistress was already there too. What was it with all these early birds getting to work at the butt crack of dawn?

Bonnie, the head mistress took down Liv's name and then said that she was glad that I had called, that she had been planning to ask me a question.

Would I be interested in working at Liv's school as the resident guidance counselor?

"I know you are a bit overqualified for the job, but I thought you might make an exception since it would mean that you could be near Liv all day long," she said.

I was surprised. Was silent for a beat and then offered to come in this week to talk more about the position. We agreed on Friday afternoon.

"It only pays blah blah blah," Bonnie said. "I should tell you that right now but it does come with health insurance. I know that might be important to you..."

I told her that I would think about it and we could speak more about it on Friday.

I hung up and sat down in a kitchen chair. Bing came in to make her morning smoothie and I told her what was up. We both agreed that a down side was that the job only paid about three fourths of what I make at the hospital. Plus, Bing reasoned, the health insurance was probably not nearly as comprehensive as that of the hospital, considering it was a tiny Montessori school. But, hey...I would be close to Liv all day, that would be a perk. We agreed to see how Friday went and revisit the topic Friday evening.

Bing left for work and I let Socks out to pee and then started assembling ingredients for Liv's mushroom soup. I made Liv some tea and toast and took it up to her. She managed to take a few bites and then slid back under her covers, too sick to talk much, only wanting to sleep.

I went back downstairs and thought about the offer of the job a bit while I made myself some coffee and munched on a croissant.

Did I really want to take a job like this even if the health insurance was decent? And how sad was that really, what a pathetic comment on American life that HEALTH INSURANCE would dictate whether I took a job or not. Only in America...

Liv's school is small, green and progressive. The population is not more than one hundred students, at least half of them pre-schoolers. What sort of counseling could pre-schoolers need? And really, the truth is that there aren't many troubled youth in Liv's school. The tuition is pretty steep, not that all of the students come from money, but those parents who perform sweat equity to pay for their children's education tend to be very hands on. In fact, parent/teacher meetings are well attended and there seems to be little instance of student behavior problems in the school. I really am left pondering why they even need a guidance counselor.

Plus, I didn't know if I wanted the stigma of being the person who was all up into the student's business and private lives. Surely, this wouldn't sit too well with the other parents, it might make things sticky for Liv along the way. I mean, the elementary section of the school is very small, maybe 35 children in grades 1-8. And I didn't relish getting too involved with the students that Liv attends class with...

This could be a sticky wicket. Plus, the pay is not great.

What do you think? Would you want to be a guidance counselor in your child's school? It gives you something to chew on, yes?

I'll think more on it after my friday meeting...

The doorbell rang and there were Hal and Nora, impeccably dressed, as always. It never fails to amaze me how the older generation does this. Hal and Nora are in their seventies and I have never once seen either of them in jeans or sweat pants. Hal wears chinos and nice shirts and Nora wears dress slacks and sweater sets and pearls. Nora is never without pale pink lipstick. They both look put-together and tidy at all times. Sometimes it seems to me as if they should be the ones going to work instead of me in the morning when I drop Liv off in my sloppy scrubs with my hair messy and not a speck of makeup on my face...

But, there they were at 7:30 in the morning, with a grocery bag and concerned looks on their faces. Could they peek in at Liv? They had picked up a few treats...

I said sure and led them upstairs. Liv smiled wanly when she saw Hal and Nora and they immediately strode to her side. Nora felt her head and said that my oh my she certainly was burning up, wasn't she? Did she want an apple muffin? Nora had baked them last night for Liv's breakfast today. Would she like one warmed up with some honey for her throat? Liv politely declined, said that maybe later she would try one, she was sure looking forward to that. Hal began pulling children's suduko puzzle books out of the grocery bag, plus a bag of lemon drops and a tiny etch-a-sketch.

I smiled. Wow. This was above and beyond neighborly good will.

Liv basked in their sweetness and they stayed for a few minutes and then said that they hoped she felt better tomorrow and reminded me that they were just a hip,hop and a jump away if Liv needed anything. I thanked them profusely as they left.

"Let us take Socks for a walk for you," they offered."We both need to stretch our legs a bit anyway..."

Good lord, can I get any luckier?

Socks was pleased to go with them, looking back at me smiling as they all left. He had been spoiled too. A juicy dog bone had been tucked carefully inside the grocery bag. ("The butcher at the grocery is a good friend of ours and since not too many people were around yet, he just gave us this bone for Socks...")

I rolled up my sleeves and began making mushroom soup. It is ridiculously easy, so much so that even I can make it...

Here is the recipe:

Liv's Sick Day Mushroom Soup.

3 tbsp. olive oil (get the good stuff...it is worth it)
3 cups of diced onions (we use the yellow ones from our garden)
8 oz. crimini mushrooms, sliced
8 oz. shiitake mushrooms, sliced
1 tbsp. chopped fresh thyme (again, fresh is best...we grow our own herbs)
1/2 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg (I have to buy this, but fresh is best)
3 tbsp. brandy
4 cups beef broth (Bing always has homemade broth in the freezer...I'm lucky)

Directions

Saute onions in olive oil over medium-high heat about 5 minutes until they soften and begin turning golden. Add mushrooms and saute abotu 5 minutes, until they begin to brown. Add thyme and nutmeg, stirring and cooking 2 minutes more. Add brandy and stir well for 30 seconds. Add broth. Allow soup to come to a boil, rduce heat to simmer and cook for 10 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste.

I wish that I could say that this was an old family recipe, but I think I found it in a cookbook somewhere. All I know is that it is easy and Liv loves it. And the best thing? It is SO good for you, aids antioxidants, lowers cancer risk, aids red blood cell production and wards off heart disease. Plus, it soothes the crankiness of a cold, I believe.

So, I made the soup. Liv slept all morning. Socks came back from his walk, as happy as a lark and tucked into his bone. After he gnawed for awhile, I found an extra mushroom and threw it on the floor for him to bat around. I swear that that dog has cat blood. He loves nothing more than to bat things around. This morning, he even laid on his back and played with the mushroom with his front paws, looking almost deliciously adorable. I stepped over him to get something, looked down and burst out laughing. He had the mushroom stem in his mouth. This gave him the look of having very puffy whitish brown mushroom lips.

He didn't eat the mushroom, though. He was sated from his juicy marrow bone and there was no lure for him to eat mushrooms after that. After he batted it around for a bit, I tossed it out to the birds and was not surprised when my favorite cardinal came around and stole it for breakfast for he and his lady love. I had no idea that birds ate mushrooms...

Liv was feeling better at lunchtime and she ate a big bowl of the soup. I am not kidding when I tell you that this soup is miraculous. By the time she polished off the bowl, her cheeks began to get color and she said she felt well enough to come downstairs and watch some television with me on the sofa.

That is how we spent the afternoon. We turned on the movie channel, found this and watched the whole length of it, laying on the sofa together under the cashmere throw with Socks keeping our toes warm. Liv had never seen it and sharing it with her was priceless.

She is better now, her fever down to 99. A friend dropped her homework off and now she is sitting at the dining room table doing math story problems, her pencil poised, her tongue working in and out of her mouth as she concentrates.

Hal and Nora tucked popsicles into the groceries this morning and I let Liv have two while watching the movie, so now her lips are stained cherry red, looking startling in her face.

Socks is back to gnawing his bone.

Bing is on her way home and has agreed to stop and pick up some thai food on her way.

My throat doesn't hurt. I think I may have managed to dodge the cold bullet.

Tomorrow, Liv will go back to school and I will go back to work. Kate won't be there and I will miss her but I'm sure that someone interesting will take her place.

I'll lay in bed tonight thinking about the job offer, wondering if I should take it, probably deciding that it isn't really a good idea. I need that stellar health insurance and need my bigger salary at the hospital. But, it is nice to be offered something, you know?

Hal and Nora called to say that they hoped Liv was better and that Nora planned to make egg and sausage scramble for Liv's breakfast tomorrow.

We will finish up the apple muffins with dinner.

Not too bad for a sick day....

Playing hookey

Yesterday, I spent the entire morning at my doctor's office, undergoing test after test, getting prodded and poked every which way.

When I emerged from needle city around 11 a.m., I decided that I was entitled to take the rest of the day off. I called in to work to say that I planned to skip the rest of the day and would try to come in on Sunday to play catch up.

And then, I thought to myself...what should I do now?

I knew exactly who I wanted to spend my time with.

I went to Liv's school and sprung her. I stopped in the head mistress' office and told them that I would be taking Liv for the rest of the day. Liv goes to the sort of school where they don't blink an eye at that sort of shit. They are actually excited for her. ("Oh, how nice that you are spending the afternoon with Livvie! She will be so thrilled!")

When I went to Liv's classroom, she was finishing up a math test. She looked up, confused. What was I doing there?

I spoke to her teacher who smiled and nodded and then I went up to Liv and asked her if she felt like getting out of school early...

She certainly did.

We practically skipped to the car.

"Well," I asked her, "What should we do now? Are you hungry? Should we go out for some lunch?"

Liv thought this was a fine idea. We discussed where to go. Should we go to Whole Foods and get a salad? Maybe go to our favorite vegetarian cafe?

I told Liv that I sincerely felt like walking on the edgy side today, breaking some rules. I wanted to get some...dare I admit it? FAST FOOD!

Liv and I exchanged a guilty glance before we both shouted:

TACO HELL!

That would be um...Taco Bell.

Yeah. That place. Evil fast food. Bing would shake a finger if she knew we were going to go here. And that made it all the more perfect for a day like today.

Liv and I sat happily eating in a tacky looking bright red booth at Taco Bell. I had the enchilada special and she had her guilty pleasure: hard shell tacos and beans.

We ordered an order of nachos too, for good measure.

And yes, we ate like happy pigs.

Liv sighed. "I wish that Socks were here," she commented. "He loves taco chips and salsa..."

He does. Not that we let Bing see us feeding him that shit...

Bing strongly believes that dogs should only eat dog food. And she is absolutely right. Of course, she is.

I sat licking the cheese and sauce off of my fingers, giggling happily with my daughter as we discussed how stupid the boys in her class were.

I thought to myself that I was sitting with my favorite child on the planet and eating a truly wonderful awful meal.

Bliss.

We talked about the vice presidential debate. We have let Liv stay up to watch the debates this year. I think it is important that she see how this process works, to make up her own mind. And her thoughts were pretty mature, I thought.

Liv: Mostly, I liked the vice presidential debate better. Joe and Sarah acted like they respected each other and they almost looked like two friends who had different opinions. I like it that they didn't look like they disliked each other. I thought that John acted like he could barely stand Barack and he kept saying things like, "Well, I don't think Mr. Obama gets it, he just doesn't understand." He said it in a mean way, too. Like...he wouldn't look at Barack directly, talked only to the reporter guy, like he wasn't there or something. It was rude. He was acting like he was this wise man and Barack was stupid. And Barack was so nice to him, when he disagreed with him, he said so, but didn't do it in a mean way. But, I thought that Sarah acted kind of stupid when she kept winking and saying things like "you betcha" and "darn right." It made her look silly and she looked like she was doing it on purpose to make people think she was like...more real or something. I liked Joe better. He smiled a lot and made sure to say his opinion but didn't get pushy or cutesy about it.

I wonder if the McCain-Palin advisers know that even a nine year can see through them.....

After lunch, we went to Target. And we bought...stuff. Stuff we didn't really need. I bought some blueberry jam, some Burt's Bees eye gel and vanilla bubble bath. I let Liv get a new lunch bag (a Beatles one to replace her Andy Warhol one) and some new colorful socks.

Just because stuff. We also bought new bath sponges.

Sometimes you just need to go to Target and buy stuff.

Then we decided to stop at the nursery and pick up a few pumpkins to carve. We planted pumpkins this year, like always, but they caught some sort of bug and are all smooshy. Not good for carving or decorating. So..we found a few nicely shaped pumpkins to make jack-o-lanterns with. We also found a bird house made from a coconut and bought that too. As I was lugging them out to the car, Liv slipped back into the store to pick up "one more thing" and she came out with two beautiful roses. A red one for me and a pink one for her.

"So, we will always remember how fun it was to play hookey," she said.

Like I would need a reminder?

I took a long sniff of my rose, it was lovely. So was my Liv.

Then we went home to spring Socks too. We had decided to take him to the park for a run and some frisbee throwing.

It was a gorgeous day. Not cold, not warm. Perfect.

We threw the frisbee for Socks until our arms ached. Then while Socks lay in the grass, panting and smiling, Liv and I found swings and pumped and pumped until we were both soaring.

"Remember when I was little and you were trying to teach me how to pump my legs and you kept saying that I should try to touch the sky with my feet?" Liv said, her head thrown back, smiling at me.

Yes, I said. I remembered.

God, wasn't that yesterday? It seems like it was.

Remember how I would sit in your lap and we would go so very high?" Liv recalled.

I told her that I remembered that too. Did she want to do that now?

Liv frowned. "Do you think we are too big to sit in the same swing?"

I said that I thought we would be okay. So, we tried it. She sat in my lap, facing me and up we went.

It was glorious. Back and forth, back and forth in our swing. I sat facing my Liv, her face inches from mine, her hands gripping the swing right above mine.

God, when she did get to be NINE??? I was starting to edge into sentimental teary blearyville, so I took myself sternly in hand. Enough.

I skidded to a stop and Liv went off to climb the jungle gym while Socks and I watched her. My cell phone rang. It was Bing.

"I just wanted to see how your doctor's appointment went," she asked.

I told her that it was okay, but that apparently I was anemic again. Not as dangerously so as the last time, but enough that I had to go on iron pills again.

"Why don't we go out for dinner tonight, get you a big juicy steak?" she suggested. "Lots of protein."

I agreed, told her that Liv and I had played hookey all afternoon. I could feel her frowning over the phone.

"So...was there bad news?" she asked, her voice working to sound nonchalant.

No, I told her. I just hadn't been able to go back to work, was sick of the smell of a hospital, needed to smell Liv instead.

"You should see her right now," I told Bing. "She is hanging upside down on the monkey bars. She is such a daredevil..."

"Like mother, like daughter," Bing mused.

We hung up then, but I thought to myself that really, I am not much of a daredevil anymore. I am no risk taker, as a rule. I tend to play it safe, keep my cards close to my chest. Mostly, I just prefer my life to stay on course. I don't seek danger or even change much anymore. It is something that I have learned from being so ill so often lately.

I like my life...as is.

I am settled and happily so. I will never doubt that perfection resides anywhere else but my own back yard. I don't ache for change, for excitement anymore. I yearn for things to stay the same.

Liv and I laid in the grass with Socks for awhile and then decided it was time to go home. Socks wasn't ready yet and insisted on giving us a chase and then ran into a creek and dared us to come in after him.

"Fine," I told him. "You can live on berries and squirrels and live here. No more dog crunchers for you, mister."

I took Liv's hand and instructed her to ignore him and walk with me to the car.

Eventually, he caught up, looking sweetly contrite. ("Hey, alpha woman, I was just kidding. Can't you take a joke? C'mon, you know you love me, you KNOW you do.)

Okay, I do. I love my dog. I love my child. I love my partner. I love my life.

I love the fact that we all went out for dinner last night and that I had a delicious rare sirloin steak and Bing had a salmon sandwich and Liv, a bowl of french onion soup. I love that we stopped at Dairy Queen for cones on the way home.

I love that when we got home, we all sat outside and Bing played her guitar while Liv and I sat on the back steps with Socks laying between us and shivered a little bit in the slightly nippy air, sweaters tucked around our nightgowns.

I love it that I woke up at 2:45 a.m. and got up to pee and check on Liv and went in to her room to find her cold little foot sticking out of the covers. I tucked it back in and bent to kiss Socks on the top of his head while he sleepily looked up at me from his perch on the end of Liv's bed.

"Good dog," I whispered to him. "Even though you seriously need a bath after that creek dip."

I love how his tail wagged lazily back and forth. He knows that I love him even if he stinks sometimes.

I love how there was blueberry jam and crumpets for breakfast and hot chicory coffee.

I love how we are going to drive to Lincoln soon to go to the Husker game.

I love going outside and plucking the last of my tomatoes off the vine and knowing that we will have sliced tomatoes with baked chicken tomorrow.

Maybe we all need to play hookey more often, yes?

One of those days...

One of those days at the office that seems WAY longer than eight hours...

I had my password suspended for the 4th time in two weeks. I was informed by my computer screen that my password had been suspended for "password violations." I'm not sure exactly what that is but I can report that my computer seemed pretty pissed off at me. Apparently, I am the only hospital employee to achieve this distinction. I slunk in again to Christabelle's dungeon to report my failings as a computer user. She was not pleased, said that I generated more work for her than all the rest of the hospital employees put together.

"I need a fuckin' raise because of your moronic ass. Your name's trouble," she said.

As we say here on the prairie...Well, that just got my dander up. It sure nuff did raise my hackles. Set my teeth on edge. Buttered my bisquit but good.

You get the picture.

I told her that, okay, I may be a computer dimwit, but I certainly did not go around calling people--who did not deserve it--vile, stinking names.

Yeah. Wow. That popped her pants good. I could see that it hurt her really, really a lot. She snickered and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, go and get over yo'self, lady jane," she said. She told me to go back to my office and she'd be up in an hour or so after she unsnaggled all the knots I had made and bring me my new password.

True to her word, she showed up an hour later, my new password in hand.

It was HOTBOD 08.

Very funny.

After lunch, I tried to settle down with my charts and decided that I just didn't have it in me yet to tackle them.

I looked over at my co-worker, Kate.

"This is a day for a very special song," I informed her.

She looked at me warily, her eyebrows raising over her Sally Jessy Raphael glasses. We had been one upping each other for weeks now, trying to find that elusively perfect very bad-good song.

I leaned over and softly began to sing.

I remember to this day the bright red Georgia clay and how it stuck to the tires after the summer rain. Will power made that old car go. A woman's mind told me that's so. Oh, I wish we were back on the road again...

Kate chortled and joined me.

Me and you and a dog named Boo traveling and a livin' off the la-and. Me and you and a dog named Boo. How I love bein' a free man...

By now, we were both on our feet and performing in classic Sonny and Cher style as we finished up the song gallantly for our less than excited co-workers.

I can still recall the wheat fields of Saint Paul and the mornin' we got caught robbin' from an old hen. Old McDonald, he made us work, but then he paid us for what it was worth. Another tank of gas....and back on the road again...

I felt better after that and sank down to finish up my charts.

But, Kate wasn't ready to pack it in.

"I can beat that," she said.

"Try," I challenged her.

She began to sing on her own.

Dance with me. I want to be your partner. Can't you see the music is just starting? Night is falling and I am falling. Dance with me...

I held up my hand. "Stop right now. That song is not going to be one of our bad songs. That's one of Bing and my songs."

Kate gave me a long, withering look before she managed to utter, "Ewww."

"What do you mean, EWW?" I asked her. Dance With Me is a fine old song.

"It's a sappy ass song and you know it," she answered.

"Them's fightin' words," I reiterated. "Bing sings that song to me when I am mad and she is trying to suck up to me. I sometimes get danced around the room and am given a cadbury egg if I can stay mad long enough."

She reconsidered.

"Ok," she conceded. "As long as as you get a cadbury egg out of it."

I nodded solemnly. I didn't mention the fact that once Bing sang the entire length of Your Body Is A Wonderland to me while strumming her guitar and following me around the house.

Some things are just too dribbly to talk about in public. But, if you ever want to get your partner to get naked with you, I highly recommend this tune if you have the voice for it. It worked for Bing. I know that much. Because while my body is truly more of a war zone than a wonderland, she knew to sing it with gusto and hey, playing the guitar helped too. I am a sucker for a musician......


"Righto," Kate went on, thinking deeply. "Ok. I have it!"

She took a deep breath.

"Where's the playground, Susie? If I decide to let you go and play around?Where's the playground, Susie? If I don't stay around....

She wailed this with true Glen Campbell flair.

I smiled. "Oh. yes...much better!" I told her, happily.

We were finally both ready to get back to work.

Sighing, I keyed in my password: HOTBOD08.

God, was this day over yet?

Another character for the roster...

I first met Chelsea as I was heading up to the fourth floor bathroom to puke at work...

This illness leaves me nauseated at times. Not wishing to force my office mates to listen to the sounds of me throwing my guts up in the office bathroom, I began a hunt for a large, mostly unpopulated bathroom. I found one on the fourth floor. It was largish and very clean and I had never seen anyone in there.

So, it became my first pick puking place. (And now you have this lovely portrait of me in your mind, don't you?)

The only problem that I foresaw was that sometimes the elevator was slow and I worried that I wouldn't make it in time. But, I always did.

So, one day when the nausea began to rear it's ugly head, I slipped out of the office and headed up to my fourth floor bathroom.

Just as I was pushing the door open, a young woman was heading out. She stopped short and looked so delighted to see me that I was taken aback.

"Well, HELLO THERE!!!?" she said, looking just pleased as punch.

I stood thinking fast. Obviously we knew each other, yes? I went through my mental rolodex trying to place her. Let's see...she was youngish, had on a student nurse's outfit, hmmm.

I was getting nothing. So, I allowed her to shake my hand vigorously up and down. This made me very sure that I needed to vomit quite soon.

I smiled uncertainly. "Um...sorry. Have we met?" I asked her, prepared to slap my forehead and say, "OF COURSE!" when she reminded me of who she was.

She didn't.

"Oh, we don't know each other. I'm Chelsea and I've just begun my student nursing here. I'm so glad to meet you!?"

It was totally annoying how she spoke in exclamation points and question marks after every damn thing she said. I smiled a little haughtily.

"Hello...I hope you enjoy your time here," I managed to say.

"Oh! I know I will?! I have wanted to be a nurse since I was a child!? But this hospital is so darn big!? I wonder if I will ever get to know my way around?!"

I said that I was sure she would and then marched right into a stall, determined that this was going to be our only conversation.

"Well...okay. Buh Bye then?!!" she asked and said.

I didn't bother to answer and waited to hear the door finally swoosh shut. Mercifully, it did.

A few days later, I had the second experience of somehow shutting my password out of my computer system. No idea how I managed to do that. But, I called down to Christabelle to see if she could bail me out...again.

No answer. She never answers the phone. Never. So, I schlepped down to tech operations and opened the door, steeling myself for her jibes at my computer failings yet again.

And there was Chelsea standing next to Christabelle as she sat at the computer.

"Hi," I said as innocently as I could. "Um. Guess what? I managed to suspend my password again..." I said as airily as I could muster.

Chelsea looked so excited that she almost leaped up.

"ME TOO!!?? I'm here again because I managed to do that again!?" she said, sounding like we had both just won the lottery.

Christabelle gave me a wry look. "Come on in, Lucy," she said. "Ethel is already here."

Very funny.

Well, Chelsea thought it was anyway. She hooted like a baby owl over that. Actually gave her knee a slap for good measure.

I wasn't thrilled at being lumped in with Chelsea. Especially after Christabelle informed me that Chelsea and I were the only people she knew who managed to suspend their passwords..

"You and Cricket here are two peas in a pod," she told me.

Chelsea gave a happy chirp laugh.

"Christabelle calls me Cricket because she says I'm so chirpy!?" she told me.

I just nodded.

Christabelle got us both straightened out eventually, but not before she reminded me that really, I needed to have Bing give me some computer lessons.

A few days passed. Luckily, Chelsea did not seem to be frequenting the fourth floor bathroom because I didn't see her again.

And then one day, I was perusing a chart and discovered that the patient was still admitted and so I decided to go to his room to ask him some questions about side effects of a new medication he was taking. I found his room and as I stepped into it, I heard that distinctive voice.

Yes, there was Chelsea sitting in a chair next to the bed, reading to the elderly man in the bed. She was reading a poem by Emily Dickinson. It sounded oddly Dr. Seuessian in her loud, chirpy, questioning voice. ("Do you like green eggs and ham? Would you eat them in a boat? Would you eat them with a goat? Do you like them here or there? Will you eat them anywhere?")

I stood at the end of the bed and Chelsea stopped and looked adoringly at me.

"WELL HELLO!?? How are you? What brings you up here?!!" Honestly, you would think I was Brad Pitt or something, as enthusiastic as she was.

The little old man smiled crinkle like at me. He seemed to like Chelsea, commented on how she always came in and read to him each day and what a nice young lady she was. Chelsea went pink with pleasure.

I said that yes, Chelsea sure was an effusive woman...and then asked him if he could tell me how he was feeling with his new meds, etc. We talked for a while and then I told them that I would let them get back to their poetry.

"Isn't Emily Dickinson just so dreamy?!" Chelsea asked me.

I said that yes, she sure was...

I didn't see Chelsea again until today. I was making my usual 1 p.m. visit to the fourth floor bathroom. I pushed open the door, stepped in and immediately heard a muffled wailing from one of the stalls.

I stopped in my tracks. Okay. There was no mistaking that voice. It could only belong to Cricket, I mean Chelsea. I thought briefly about stepping right back out of the bathroom. She need never know that I was here. I could slip out unobtrusively...

But,no. I couldn't do that. I knew that.

I gingerly stepped up to the closed door of the stall and rapped gently on it.

"Chelsea, is that you? It's Maria. Are you okay?"

What a smart question? OF COURSE SHE IS NOT OKAY. WHAT A DUMB COMMENT!"

Chelsea sniffled.

"Um...yes. I'm just....fine.." Her voice trailed off with no hint of a question or an exclamation mark.

I sighed. Stood with my hand on the stall door.

"Chelsea, honey. Are you ill?" I asked her.

A short silence. Then she managed to say that really, she was okay.

She wasn't. But she had let me off the hook....I could walk out now if I wanted.

But, of course. No. The mean, petty part of me wanted badly to walk out. The better part of me, the part that Liv brings out in me, decided to stay.

"Chelsea? Why don't you come on out?" I asked.

Suddenly, the door was flung open and a weeping Chelsea threw herself into my arms, her face blotchy and red.

She wept copiously on my scrub shoulder. My scrubs were light blue and the shoulder steadily turned a bright shade of blue as she wet it.

Finally, I was able to pull her away from me.

"Tell me what is going on," I said to her.

And she did.

Apparently, she had come in to work this morning and discovered that Mr. Morrison, the gentleman whom she read to, had died in the night. She was distraught.

("He was getting better! Everyone said so!" )

I felt badly for her.

She let out a shuddery sigh. "It's just that I really liked him and I think he really liked me, too," she was able to say. "And it feels like he is the only one in this place that really did like me, you know?"

Well, yes. I did know. I imagined that it hadn't been easy for her. I know that I never was happy to see Chelsea and honestly, if I had to put up with her on a daily basis, I may have lost my mind from all that chirpy good will and those exclamation points and question marks flying out of her mouth constantly.

I patted her. Told her that I knew it must be hard. I was so sorry about Mr. Morrison. He seemed like a very nice man, yes he did. And that she mustn't let this get to her. She was going to watch people die. It was part of her job description now. But, hey. It wasn't true that no else liked her. Well, I liked her just fine...

She took her moist self off of me and looked up at me, trying to smile.

"You DO?!" she asked.

I nodded. "Of course, I do. Don't be silly. And I know that I'm not the only one." I suspected that this was a falsehood, but maybe not. Who knew?

Eventually, she calmed down and was able to go back to work.

First, though, she told me about how she lived alone with her mother who had multiple sclerosis. She said that was one reason that she wanted to be a nurse, so that she could take better care of her mother. She said that it had been just the two of them her whole life and that yes, it did get lonely, but even though she tried to make friends, well...it just never seemed to take, you know?

Well, you know what I did.

Yes.

I said that she would have to come over for dinner sometime. And bring her mother.

She beamed up at me through her tears.

"Oh, I would love that!? Well, my mother probably wouldn't want to come, she doesn't like to leave the house. But, I sure would love a dinner out sometime!?" she told me.

I told her that we would have to have Christabelle over at the same time.

She practically leaped up in the air.

"Oh!? I just love Christabelle!? She is so...funny and sweet!?" she said.

I frowned a little bit. I have never pegged Christabelle as sweet but hey...what do I know?

So, now..I suspect that I have gone and done it. And I wondered if Christabelle would even show up if she knew that Cricket, I mean Chelsea was going to be there?

Oh, what the hell...might as well invite her for Thanksgiving along with all the rest.

The more the merrier!!???

Right!!??

Artie

I hadn't seen him in years.

The last time was....hmmm. About three years ago. At the university where I used to teach part time.

Artie was the custodian there. I have always been mindful about being on good terms with the custodians, secretaries and tech support people at every job I have worked at. I am no fool. These people run the place. I am serious. Most places can live without the rest of us but the custodians, the secretaries and and the tech support? They are the heavy hitters and I know it.

If they like you, life can be pretty good at work.

So, Artie was the night custodian in the building where I taught one night class per week for several years. Little by little, we got to know each other.

He called me Teach.

Artie was a slight man, probably about 5'2 (which is still two inches taller than me.) I always thought that he looked like Walt Whitman's scrawny little brother. He had white hair and a moustache.

And a peacefully zen face. And demeanor.

Once, I asked him what his secret was, why he looked so content and peaceful all of the time. He told me that he tried to always be in the moment. That if he was cleaning an office window, then he tried to make it the cleanest window he could, if he was emptying wastebaskets, he wanted to concentrate on the task at hand.

Also, he told me, he had a happy home life. That helped.

Artie and his wife, Kitty, had been married for nearly 45 years. He told me that they had always wanted children, but weren't able to have any. Finally, they went through an adoption agency and their son, Eddie, was born when they were both 47. They were ecstatic at their luck and Artie always had photos to show me. Eddie was a guitar nut and when he graduated from high school, he re-located to London where he thought the music suited him better. He soon had a steady gig with a rock and roll band. Artie and Kitty went to visit him every Christmas and Kitty would prepare a hugh Christmas dinner in Eddie's tiny kitchen for all the stray band mates who didn't have family to be with. Eddie came home every year for a week in late May to celebrate his mother's birthday.

Artie often talked about how much Eddie loved living in England because he said there was no racism there, that since Eddie was an african american, he had endured lots of it here in the states, but none in England and he planned to live there forever.

Artie and Kitty had only wish and that was that Eddie would find a nice girl, get married and give them a grandchild. Eddie didn't seem in any hurry, though.

Of course, I found this all out in small increments on evenings after my class was over and Artie was cleaning my office while I sat at my desk finishing up work. We went back and forth a lot, sharing our life stories. I don't usually do that sort of thing with people, but I liked Artie and he didn't ask stupid questions.

Plus, he thought Liv was cute and always asked if I had pictures of her.

Artie retired and there was a small cake in the break lounge.

I saw him a few months after that at an Omaha Royals baseball game where I met Kitty and Eddie. I was surprised at Kitty. She was a good head taller than Artie and probably had about fifty pounds on him. Eddie was taller than both of them, a good six footer with a tall gangly musician's body and a smile that was deep and dimpled. A very handsome man. We shook hands all around and I introduced Artie to Liv. She was in kindergarten at the time, I think.

We all said that we would have to get together for dinner, etc. But, like most things you say in moments like that, it just didn't happen.

So, I was very surprised last week when I was eating my lunch alone in the atrium and spotted Artie in there washing windows.

He and I exchanged startled looks, the kind where you stare for a moment and for the life of you cannot place this person. They are out of context and they look so damned familiar, but....how?

And then, of course, you remember.

Artie and I smiled at each other and hugged. Said how surprised we were to see each other. We both said the same thing at the same time: What are you doing here?

I explained that I had taken a predictable job now that Liv was in fourth grade, needed the good insurance.

Artie drew his breath in sharply. "Your daughter is in FOURTH grade?" he exclaimed. "I remember her as this tiny little 5 year old."

Well, I told him. She was nine now....

I asked him why he wasn't staying retired, staying home and watching the grass grow with Kitty as he always planned on doing.

He looked at me for a long moment and then told me that Kitty had died in the Spring.

I did the usual I'm so sorry dance and he thanked me, etc.

He told me that she had died in her sleep, that Eddie had been home visiting for her birthday and that one morning, he and Eddie had gotten up early to go buy some doughnuts for breakfast and when they got back home, they found that Kitty had died.

Eddie had been so upset, had ended up staying nearly all summer to keep his Dad company, worried about him. But, that finally Artie had talked Eddie into returning to England. He had a girlfriend now and it was serious and his band couldn't hold his spot forever. Artie talked about how Eddie's band mates all came to the prairie for Kitty's funeral and how nice he thought that was. How Eddie was now living with his girlfriend and that he would go visit them for Christmas, do the Dickens Christmas, as usual, but sans Kitty.

That would be hard, he said, but he was looking forward to it. Artie said that once Eddie went back to England, the house had just seemed too big, too quiet, so he had decided to go back to work part time and had found work at the hospital.

"It's different," he said. "Germs are a much bigger deal here than they were at the university.."

But, he said, he liked his job. He liked keeping busy.

He asked how Liv was and if I had settled down yet. That had always been a concern of his, he had always told me that I needed to find a lid for my pot.

I told him about Bing, that she was the perfect lid for my unusual pot and that we were all settled and happy.

That made him smile.

We said that we needed to have dinner sometime and this time, I made sure to get his number.

Because I was not going to lose him again, I said.

And I made a mental note to make sure that I didn't. I wanted to invite him over for Thanksgiving dinner.

But, Artie was still Artie. He still smiled warmly and seemed very comfortable in his own skin, like always.

I asked him if he was doing okay, that missing Kitty must be hard.

And he smiled again, gently.

He said, "You know, I do miss her so much. But, I know that I will be fine. And I refuse to be the sort of person who stops living after they lose their spouse. I will just go on by myself until we meet in the sweet by and by."

I like the phrase. The sweet by and by. It sounded just like Artie.

"You are still the most zen man I know," I told him.

He nodded. He talked about his excitement about visiting Eddie and his girlfriend at Christmastime and how he hoped that she could cook since Kitty had been the only one who could cook in their family.

"But," he said. "If she can't, we can all go to a restaurant for Christmas dinner. It only matters that we are together."

I hope that I can be that settled in my skin some day. Because he was so...healthy.

He missed his wife, yes. But, he pulled himself up by his bootstraps and was going on.

You see a lot of that in the older generation.

(I do realize that to some of you, I am the older generation..)

I am talking about the older older generation, though. The seventy somethings. I see it time and time again. This wiseness, this comfortablity in themselves.

I aspire to being an Artie one day.

Maybe when I am his age, I will hit the mark.

But, until then, I will just make sure that I don't lose him again. I want him at our Thanksgiving table. I want Liv to have this sort of person in her life. There is so much to learn.

I think I will call him right now and invite him over for dinner. With Christabelle. I think those two would SO hit it off. And how much fun for the rest of us to have two such interesting people to share a meal with...

A keeper, all righty. That is Artie. And Christabelle.

Maria's motley crew steals bratwurst from Human Resources

It was a regular day at the office. Our department head, Rossi, sat in his office pretending to be busy. Elly, our office manager, fluttered around gathering our mother's maiden names for some internal paperwork. We chart analysts, all four of us, sat hunched over our desks, eyes roaming over charts or fingers busy typing comments on to our computer keyboards.

The two department secretaries, Felicity and Sandra typed rapidly while they made a soundtrack of their own with Felicity humming and Sandra snorting snot noisily up into her swollen nasal cavities.

And then we all cocked our heads as we heard our intercom crackle on. A disembodied female voice informed us that "Brats are being served on the west side of the building on the human resources pavilion in honor of employee appreciation day. So..come on down and enjoy a brat for lunch!"

Well, that made us smile. Brats for lunch! We all agreed that a brat sounded kind of good today. We speculated as to whether those brats would be good, juicy, real brats or the prissy fake turkey brat wanna bes. Before we could debate further, the intercom crackled again and the same woman's voice rang out sounding properly sheepish:

"I apologize for the previous announcement concerning brats. Apparently, the brats are for the human resources department only. Other departments will have their employee appreciation day in October." The intercom clicked off.

Well, you can imagine our shock and disappointment. What did she mean by teasing us about something like brats?! How mean spirited. Our mouths had begun watering for some tasty brats, for the love of pete!

At first, no one said anything. Then Felicity ventured forth with, "I sure would have loved a brat for lunch."

Rossi came out of his office and shrugged. "Brats are bad for you. I'm glad not to be tempted."

Maria O (not to be confused with me, Maria M...) and Nita heartily agreed. Besides, they had both planned to have the cafeteria special: chicken noodle soup. Much healthier, they said in their superior voices.

The rest of us glowered. Pouted. A plot began to hatch. We all talked it over in hushed tones. Out of all of us, Sandra, Felicity, Elly, Kate, and I all wanted brats.

But, Elly and I were both in scrubs and no human resource grunts wore scrubs to work. We'd stick out like sore thumbs, recognized for our brat bandit intentions. Sandra, Felicity, and Kate agreed to be our brat snitchers. They all agreed to grab two brats apiece, feigning a hearty appetite today. Elly and I would loiter innocently in the hall with Elly's oversized purse ready to hold the swiped brats.

We all rode up nervously in the elevator together to Human Resources on the ninth floor. Good. The halls were thick with brat lovers. This would be an easy mission.

Kate, Felicity, and Sandra bravely strolled into enemy lines. Elly and I casually sauntered around by the drinking fountain, trying our best to look casual.

It didn't take long. Kate, Felicity, and Sandra returned in quick time, each carrying two juicy brats in their hot little burglar hands. Felicity had somehow managed to pilfer a large container of onion rings as well. What a booty!

We all innocently stepped into our awaiting elevator and then all hell broke loose as the women speedily slid their stolen brats into Elly's open bag.

We stopped the elevator on the eleventh floor, at the atrium and jumped out, our mouths aching by now for our hard won brats.

We all settled into chairs and sunk our teeth greedily into the soft doughy rolls with the spurting brats nestled in them.

We all agreed that sinning like this was so, so worth it. Such tasty brats! And we snickered a bit, joking that those human resources morons were so dumb that they didn't even know that they had been infiltrated. Dumb asses! Just wait until October, when it was our turn for employee appreciation brats. We'd know to guard ours well...

"AHA!" said a low voice.

We turned to see Christabelle standing in the doorway, arms akimbo.

"I knew I smelled brats.." she said, smiling wickedly.

We hastily offered her the one extra brat, buying her silence. It worked. She sat down with us, biting lovingly into her brat roll and snagging several onion rings too.

We all agreed that it was a delicious lunch.

Elly handed out mints at the doorway to our office. No sense in having brat breath. We all sucked down the peppermints and went back to work, our stomachs full of the juicy brats.

It was a good day at the office....

Even a hard day comes up roses

I didn't wake up until nearly ten on Sunday. And I had gone to bed before nine the night before...

That is what I think is called tired.

But, when I did wake up, I felt almost like myself again. Refreshed.

So, I decided to go into work and play catch up. I'd gone home early two days in a row last week, just felt so sick.

I had several charts to catch up on. I told Bing that I would be gone for a few hours and she agreed to have dinner ready when I got home. Liv asked to go with me, to see my new office. I told her that if she wanted to come with me it meant that she had to amuse herself for at least 3 hours. She agreed to bring her homework and the new book that she is inhaling reading: From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler.

So, Liv and I drove to the hospital. When we got to my office, she was disappointed.

"I sort of thought you would have your own office, like you used to when you worked," she commented.

Nope, I told her. Not this go-round. Now, I do have my own desk, but I share a big office with 11 other people. I showed her my desk. She shrugged.

"Do you wish you had your own office?" she asked.

I started to say yes and then I realized that I honestly didn't miss my own office that much. I have come to sort of enjoy the people that I work with. Then, I thought of Felicity and her annoying humming, of Nita's booming voice and her cloying tone asking everyone, even visitors, to call her "Mama Nita." I thought of Sandra and her allergies and the way she sniffs snot up her nose in this sort of sickening sounding piggy grunt. And I admitted that, yes, okay, I miss having my own office. Well, just a bit anyway.

I sat at my desk and settled Liv at Kate's desk and for the next hour and half, we worked silently. Finally, I got up and stretched.

"How about a trip to the cafeteria for a cookie and milk break?" I asked Liv. She was more than ready, so we wound our way to the cafeteria, hand in hand, swinging them a little. This was nice, I thought, having her with me like this.

As we sat sharing a giant cookie (I swear it was nearly as big as my head. I mean, god...WHY do they make those anyway? It just makes us fatter and fatter) and two cartons of milk, Christabelle came strolling in.

I gaped a little. She was wearing what looked like pants that were three sizes too big that were hanging nearly to her knees. Her regular backwards baseball cap. And chains. She wore about ten chains around her neck. She spotted us and brought her cinnamon roll over to eat with us.

Liv was cleary impressed.

"You get to wear those clothes to work and nobody sends you home?" she asked.

Christabelle snickered. "Let 'em try, lady jane. Let 'em jes' try.." she said, grinning. Then she gave Liv a long look.

"Are you Maria's kid?" she asked.

Liv nodded.

"Well, you don't favor her much," she said. "You must look like your pop."

Liv and I both agreed that she absolutely looked more like her father.

"He decent to you?" Christabelle asked. "Cos, I know people if he ain't."

Liv assured her that he was a good father. "He's a geologist and he knows everything in the world about rocks," she told her proudly.

Christabelle nodded. "Good," she said, nodding.

Then she asked Liv if she wanted her to boot up some games on Kate's computer to play on while I finished up my work. Liv was excited to start, so we headed back to my office. Christabelle somehow booted up three different games for Liv to try and then stayed to teach her how to play them and challenged her to several games. By their fourth game, Liv was consistently holding her own and Christabelle commented that, "Well, you sure ain't the dumbass that your mom is on computers, huh?"

Liv didn't answer, but blushed and smiled, thrilled to hear the word dumb ass and not knowing if she should be thrilled to hear it to describe me..

I finally finished up my work and called Bing to tell her that we were on our way home. Could we bring anything? Bing said no, that Sunday dinner would be waiting for us when we got home. I asked her how she felt about another mouth to feed, should we invite Christabelle? She said fine, so I invited her.

I was surprised at Christabelle's reaction. "Let me get this clear," she said. "Is you inviting ME to Sunday supper?" When I said yes, she smiled broadly.

"I've never been asked even once to somebody's house for supper," she said. "Ain't you skeered that I'll be bringing my chucks with me?"

I wasn't sure what chucks were, (found out later from Bing that she probably meant num chucks) but told her that yes, we really wanted her to come for dinner.

"Well, then I'll just follow you home, darlin'", she said.

And she did.

We walked in to an incredible dinner. Bing had outdone herself.

There was a pork roast, baby potatoes and carrots (all from our garden!) in the crock pot. I smelled something more and opened the oven door to find a big pan of browning cornbread in there. Small glass dishes of homemade applesauce (made from my co-worker, Kate's backyard apple tree) were set daintily by each plate. A jar of homemade pickles was on the table and a small pot of honey for the cornbread. Icy chai tea to drink.

I introduced Christabelle to Bing and Socks, the dog. Socks immediately found a friend when he flipped over to expose his belly and Christabelle gave him a good long scratch. She impressed Bing by oohing and ahhing over our Mac. ("Why the hell they don't buy these lil' miracles for the hospital is beyond me," she said. "They insist on buying those worthless pcs..and then I be the one stuck servicin' those junk heaps.")

We all sat down to Sunday supper and it was just...spectacular. Christabelle commented that she now saw why I was a "lesbo" since clearly I should hold on to a woman who could cook this well.

"Hell, I'd even kiss ya if you cooked like this for me..." she told Bing.

Bing told her that the vegetables were from Maria's garden and that I had made the applesauce and canned the pickles. Christabelle grinned at me.

"Well, boy howdy, ma'am," she said. "I sure is glad you have other talents since you sure don't know your way around a computer.."

She then entertained Bing and Liv by telling them how I daily managed to freeze up my computer and even managed to send items to the printer frequently without realizing that I had even done it....

It was a great dinner. I learned a lot about Christabelle. I learned that she has a steady boyfriend, that she lives with him and his sickly mother and that she once told the CEO of the hospital to go "stick his head in a pan of puke."

I truly think that I am growing to love this woman....

After dinner, Christabelle stayed to throw Sock's frisbee around the back yard with him and Liv for a bit while Bing and I cleaned up.

When she left, the house seemed too quiet. We must have her over again. Soon. I promised Liv that it would be very soon. And Christabelle promised to invite us over to her home for some enchiladas that her boyfriend's mother makes from scratch sometime.

I went upstairs to take a nap. As I settled down under the soft cashmere throw, I heard Sock's tap tapping toenails on the wood floor and peered down to see him smiling at me, waiting for his invitation.

I patted the bed.

"Get up here, hound," I said. He did.

We stretched out but before we could sleep, Liv came tiptoeing in.

"Is there room for a skinny nine year old girl?" she asked.

Socks and I made room.

I pulled my daughter close to me and took a deep long smell of her sun smelling hair before Socks wormed his way in between us.

When I awakened an hour later, I was alone and heard Liv's voice ringing out from the back yard. I got up and looked out the window to see her, Bing and Socks playing with the frisbee.

There is something so deliciously wonderful about a late September day with the sun beginning to look slightly pale and shimmering over the heads of the three beings that I probably love most in the world.

I went outside and played for a while too.

Then we all came in and Liv got ready for bed. I went to her bedside and kissed her goodnight and we talked about Christabelle.

"I like her, mama," Liv said. I said that I liked her too.

"She is sort of..." Liv began, unsure of how to complete her sentence.

"Uncouth?" I suggested.

We laughed. Yes, we agreed, Christabelle was kind of...raw. Kind of uncouth. But in the best way. There are those people, we agreed, who are unattractively uncouth and then there are those who are wonderfully uncouth and Christabelle fell into that last category.

I think it was a good lesson for Liv to learn. That there are those people out there who aren't necessarily polished, but that they shine more than those who work hard at being all shiny. Who make it a point to let you know just how polished they are.

Liv picked up her book to read until she felt sleepy and I slipped back downstairs to join Bing, who was sitting in the recliner, holding a bowl of grapes to share with me while we watched True Blood.

We were two women managing to fit together in a leathery recliner, munching on grapes, watching a rather wonderful bizarre show.

Even the hard days come up roses when you have a life like mine.

And don't doubt for a moment that I know just how lucky I am. Sometimes life seems just too hard, but even in the hardest day, there is this...peace for me.

Thank you for this, I think. Thank you.