I love being a nurse. Caring for sick children gives my life purpose. My work makes a difference for families on their darkest days. It gives immense satisfaction, opportunities for growth, and an outlet for compassion. —WUUUB-SKRIIIIIIIITCH (That’s the part of the post where that ‘needle on a vinyl record sound’ scrapes across my brain!) Although the above is heartfelt and true, it’s only half the story! Let’s have a Paul Harvey moment, and I’ll tell you the “Rest of the Story”! I have a t-shirt that reads, “Nurses. We can’t fix stupid, but we can sedate it!” Seriously, nursing
I asked, “When you go for hay, can you pick up needles too?” It all started with that simple question. Long time friends were at the farm for our regularly scheduled ‘Gang Day’. My question was followed by a flurry of jokes about needles and haystacks. Then, Liam asked why I needed needles. I explained, that the next day when we tagged sheep, I wanted to inject them with Vitamin B and Iron. Somehow, that casual question led to a hot, sweaty, slightly bloody, sheepish adventure. Hufflepuff and Old Faithful*, my two best friends, insisted it would be an ‘adventure’.
or When Drugs Helped Me Learn to Get a Straight Story from My Slow Talking Texan Husband “Houston, we have a problem.” I’m not sure I can convey the feeling of panic those few words conjure for me. They form my husband’s pat phrase for problems of all sizes. If he wants a sandwich for lunch, and the pastrami is frozen: Houston, we have a problem. If the mortgage company accidentally takes the mortgage payment out twice: Houston, we have a problem. If the tractor won’t start, the lawn mower has a flat, or ‘someone’ forgot to turn out the
Never Ending Love, Laughter, and Laundry I’d like to think, we all have those not-so-pretty places in our homes. Those spaces that are purely functional. Otherwise known as ‘the areas that home décor forgot’. However, in some unfortunate cases, functionality and décor seem to join the cat and the spoon and run away together. When that happens, we’re left with an ugly disaster, that can’t even get its job done. Enter my laundry room. Actually, for the last couple of years, I would have said, “Don’t enter it! Or, at least enter at your own peril!” It was a little