How in the world can a person wade through all of the hooplah and baloney to get to the bottom of this whole mess? He says - she says- they say - they do - they don't - I will - I won't. Good grief!! No wonder the every day American is sick of it and just says "to hell with it!".

Any suggestions where I might find some good, solid, HONEST, easy to read information so that I might truly make an informed decision when I vote?

I could use the help! I want to vote. I want to vote for the candidate with whom I feel I can align myself without compromising the things I believe in. I don't even know what most of them believe because they're too busy speaking in tongues.

Thanksgiving........

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving. One of the best I can remember in recent years. I spent time with my parents, my kids, my brothers and sisters, and my nieces and nephews. I got filled up with family love - enough to hold me over until Christmas. I even got to spend time with Bobbi and Steve, two of my closest friends.

And I got hugs - lots of hugs. I got to be the kid, being hugged and comforted by her mom. I got to be the mom, hugging and comforting her sons. I sure do believe what they say about hugs - that they make you healthier and stronger, less prone to illness and disease, happier and more peaceful. I can feel all of that coursing through my body today as I return to work.

I love my family. I love Thanksgiving. And I love hugs.

Hope all of you had a great Thanksgiving, too. Peace always.

Bubbles

I went to a wedding celebration a couple of weeks ago. The daughter of one of my oldest and closest friends ran off and got married back in October, and the celebration was like a reception. After everyone had gone, I was helping them clean up the old train station where the party was held. They had all of this stuff they were going to throw away and the pack rat in me just couldn't stand it!! I now have ten or more votive candleholders, two bags full of decorative fall gourds, a whole bag full of plastic leaves in fall colors, and ten or more little bottles of bubble soap.

I went out in the yard on Sunday and blew bubbles all over the yard for a half hour or so. It was so cool. It was like being a little kid again! I found myself trying to work on my bubble-blowing technique to get longer or bigger bubbles. And Pete-the-crippled-cat and I found a new game to play. "Catch the bubble" before it disappears. Pete was quite fascintated with the game for awhile, then I think he actually got down right p-0'd because the bubbles kept disappearing. He'd dig in the grass where the bubble had been then look at me with a very intense, if-looks-could-kill kind of glare, accusing me of taking the bubble from him! It was a lot of fun, for me anyway. Like I said, it was like being a kid again. Playing in the yard, talking to the cat or the dog or just myself, depending on who felt like listening. Humming little songs. Pretending I was in a big bubble-blowing contest and one of the finalists.

Do it sometime. Venture back. I don't think it's so much regression as is it a half hour of freedom from adulthood and all its miseries. Ah, what a joy! Thirty minutes of childhood-revisited, the biggest pressure being trying to make the bubble soap last. I have ten or more little bottles. Enough to last a long time. THAT makes me smile!

Ciao!

Being different.....

I'm different. I know that I'm different. I've always been different. I think I realized it sometime back in junior high school. I was just one step off from everybody else. There have been so many times in my life, especially in my adult life, that people have said to me, "You're different from anybody else I've ever known." I was (am) a different kind of mom. I am a different sort of midwife - kind of a strange half-breed between art and science. I walk just a little bit out of step. I'm different from my brothers and my sisters, but yet strangely the same given our shared genetics and histories. I'm very different from my mom, though I look so much like her and our voices are the same, our handwriting is the same, our way of loving the world is the same. I am very different from the folks here on the Eastern Shore.

I remember so many times that I've tried not to be different. Lord, what a mess I was in high school in all my attempts to NOT be different. My choices, so much of the time, of people to emulate, to try to fit in and be the same, were not always the best of choices. In high school, I wore ugly Earth shoes but make-up, too, all painted on my face. I skipped school and shop-lifted. I smoked and drank and partied with the kids that partied hard. I wanted to belong. I did things that I knew weren't right for me, even things that I didn't like to do, just to find some end to that "feeling different" kind of feeling.

Sometime about the time that I went to college, I stopped a lot of that. I started learning to accept the fact that I was different from everybody else. That my brain worked in a different sort of way. I cried when other people were happy and laughing. I stopped crying and learned to sing sad songs instead. I walked my own path. I am different. And I know that I am different.

But I am a good person. I am a good mom, a good friend, a good midwife. I am one of God's wonderous creations.

I went by my friends' Jody and Bates' house this evening on my way home from seeing patients at the Health Department. Bates is my banjo teacher. They are good friends to me. I love being around them because they help me feel connected. Connected to something that I can't even verbalize - just connected. The folks in my Monday night Bible Study help me feel that way, too - connected. We are pulled together and connected to one another by a universal need to reach out and find that. For people like me, who feel different and have always felt different, those kind of connections are a gift beyond measure. I love and need those connections in my life. They help me understand that, while I'm solitary, I'm not alone. That I don't have to fear loneliness. They are the answer to it. They stand it down and hold me up. They look at me and smile at me and laugh with me at all my different-ness, as though it is a blessing and not something to try to hide, not something to try to change out of myself, but something to spread out in front of others and offer it up as a gift. The gift that is me - the person the my parents created with all of their love and care.

Thanks to Jody and Bates for loving my different-ness in spite of itself.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Peace.

Big news from MSNBC

"Contrary to folk wisdom, most laughter is not about humor".

I don't care what they say - last night at the ESO in Belle Haven, Virginia, it was about humor!! Michelle Maclay's show was great!! She is so damn funny! I loved it!! Absolutely loved it!!

Great job, Michelle!! And I especially loved the closer! I'm going to have to get me some Pat Benetar to dance to. Where can I get one of those pink fru-fru things you were wearing?

Will there be preoders for your memoirs? I'm in!

A long sleep.....

I had one of those long, heavy, bordering-on-unconsciousness, face-stuck-to-the-pillow, don't-know-where-you-are-when-waking, "oh-my-God!-did-I-miss-the-pager", sleeps last night. I was on call. I rarely sleep like that anyway, but almost never when I'm on call. I've been taking a medicine for a couple of months that seriously intensified my chronic insomniac ways. After six weeks of no good sleep, I called my doc and said "Get me off this!!". I've been on call nine nights in the past 14. I've been up most of the night, most of those call nights, too. And I was up literally all night Friday night. I can feel the exhaustion in my bones, especially in my lower back and hips.

So I guess I was just due to crash and burn. I was out!! The old farmhouse where I live is very very cold!! I have flannel sheets, two quilts, and a down comforter on the bed to keep warm at night (and a hot water bottle!!), so I really do burrow down in there. I woke up this morning, having missed church, missed early rounds at the hospital, and fearful that I'd missed the pager going off (I didn't - yeah!!). All I could say was "holy crapoley, it's 12 o'clock!!??".

I'm hoping that as the medicine continues to wear off, I'll have some more nights sleeping like that. It's been a long time since I have!! It felt good!

I'm already ready for a nap!!

Peace.

Turkeys Can Run

But they cannot hide!

Oh, yeah!! I'm ready. Less than one week until Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday - by far!! Even though we eat turkey and stuffing and all that good stuff at Christmas, I love Thanksgiving the best. I love what it's about!

So to Mom and Dad, Daniel and Jacob, Jay, Karen, Emily, and Eric and all the nieces and nephews - see you in five days! Can't wait to see all of you and to eat some turkey!!

Pete

I have this orange tabby cat named Pete. Pete just showed up at the Thursday night bluegrass jam last October, about the same time I did. He was just a little ball of fur then. In January, the jam's host, Bill, asked me if I would adopt Pete. Bill already had three cats, and Pete was turning into somewhat of a trouble-maker. I agreed to adopt him but only after he had been neutered. I have two other cats and didn't want to bring Mr. Trouble home to them without some sort of attempt to simmer him down a bit. Before he could be fixed, though, he got hit by a truck. One of Bill's neighbors witnessed the accident and said that Pete got kind of "rolled". He was paralyzed from just behind his front legs down. He was dragging his whole lower body if he moved at all. It was horrible! I put him in a box and brought him home.

He was so pitiful in that first couple of days. He just laid on a blanket in my bathroom and would cry so mournfully. He didn't eat much, and he didn't drink much, and he didn't pee or poop, either. He started doing this funky thing with his head, kind of shaking it back and forth. I was afraid he had a brain injury, too, and was going to go into kidney failure or cerebral edema (or both) and die a slow, painful death. It was a terrible thing to witness. So I decided he probably should be taken to the vet and put to sleep. It killed me. I didn't want to do that to the poor little guy, but I didn't want him to agonize for days either and then die anyway. Bill took him to the vet for me. I couldn't do it.

The vet said it sure did look like he had a broken back and she would need to put him to sleep, but she would xray just to be sure and let Bill know. Several days went by and still no word. We called to see if they'd put him to sleep, assuming that they probably had. "Oh, no!", they said, "Mr. Rogers is back in the back in a crate and is doing fine. He's eating and drinking and peeing. Dr. Paula is going to rehabilitate him and find him a new home." (Mr. Rogers is the name they'd given him - yuck - Pete would be so insulted if he knew! There's nothing at all Mr. Rogers-ish about Pete!!). I didn't want Pete to go to a new home!! They thought I didn't want him. I just didn't want him to suffer a slow and painful death.

So I went and got him and brought him home for a second time. Dr. Paula said that in six months, his recovery would be as good as it gets. But she doesn't know Pete!! It's been nine months now and he continues to make progress every week. He started out dragging everything behind him. I live in a big old farmhouse with hardwood floors so he learned to scoot and slide and actually slides like lightening when he's after something. It's hilarious to see! And he is so fast! He wasn't able to go up or down the stairs, and he wasn't able to even scratch his own ears (poor guy!). I'd see him sitting there, leaning his head to one side or the other and absolutely willing, without success, those back legs to do their job!! I'd pick him up and scratch away for him. I think doing that favor for him (many, many times) bonded us for life!

Now, even though he looks kind of funny, he's getting around really well. He's a testament to determination, that cat is. He can now get up and down the stairs (he started out doing a full body press on each step, now he kind of twist and lifts). He can get on and off the soft furniture in the house (if he can dig his claws into it, he can get up on it! but you got to watch him because he'll sneak up on you and do it to you, digging his claws into your leg so that he can get in your lap). His front claws go into the mattress (couch, chair, whatever), he kind of swings free for a second and then drags himself up. He will not be denied if he has any say in the matter! Outside, he walks (more like twists) in a kind of crab-like motion, but he's gotten very fast out there. I'm no so worried about his safety anymore. Inside, he still prefers to slide. One of his back legs kind of sticks out straight, toward his front paw, and the other kind of leans in toward his body, still a bit crumpled and atrophied. His back paws are still pretty much curled up, but, just last month, while I was watching, he started doing that tilting thing with his head again, and - low and behold!! up came his back foot to his chin and he was making that foot work - scratching away!! Amazing.

He can't climb trees (hence the reason my cat Buster has now become known as the cat that lives in the tree - he's terrified of Pete!!). He can't jump up onto your lap or onto the table or onto the counters. When he jumps off the bed, he still makes a terrible thud. But he was paralyzed!! He had one paw on the threshold of death!! He was a goner!

Now he rules the neighborhood here at the farm, such as it is. I love him. He's an inspiration. He's also a pain in the ass, but I love him just the same.

Peace.

Therapy

A friend of mine asked me the other day if my blog was "therapy". She said she was thinking about going for therapy herself. I don't know any therapists in her area but thought I might make some contacts and see if I could get some good recommendations for her.

Suzanne - I've found a great therapist. She said she'd be willing to see you and work with you free-of-charge. Just come on up to Virginia for a visit. She told me to tell you also that she hopes to be rid of her fleas by the time you come to vist!

I am more homesick now than I've ever been in my entire life - even if you count that one day when I was in Guatemala when I was so homesick I'd've gotten on a plane that very day if I could have. I'm more homesick than that. I miss the way Table Rock looks against the deep blue sky of winter. I miss the way the air smells and the way the people talk. I miss the drive out the winding road to the house I used to own. I miss my kids.

I miss my home.

Funny how homesick you can get when you're heartsick. And vice versa, too, I guess.

To my friend, I wish you happiness and peace in your own home and in all ways, always. I think that's part of what love is.

Cats rule the world!

These are my sons. Jacob and Daniel.

My soul mates. Two of my best friends.

And very cool people.

If I had to say there was anything that I loved more than being a folksinger or being a midwife, in all honesty, I'd say I've loved being their mom the most.

Peace. We all need it. Despite mean people or people doing mean things, the world is still full of good people. My sons are two of them. Daniel and Jacob. If you needed help, they'd be there.

In the news.....

Did you hear about the woman's body they found in the Chesapeake Bay? Evidently, it had washed up onto a sand bar. Grisly, horrible event! They have no idea who she is, but they know she was either a nurse or a midwife. It was amazing that they figured that much out. Upon investigation, they deduced that she was a nurse or a midwife because her bladder was full, her stomach was empty, and her butt was chewed off!

Tee hee! Had you going, didn't I?

Sudoku

Who in the world invented Sudoku anyway? I'm addicted, I admit it! So is my sister, Karen. It provides an incredible amount of distraction - AND it's one of the easiest ways to procrastinate on doing chores without guilt (hey! I'm warding off dementia, ya know!).

The human mind is incredible. People figure out all sorts of amazing things! It boggles my mind to think about them - that chicken is edible once you remove the feathers, microwaves, music, math!! Did you know that after the 20th week of pregnancy the measurement in centimeters from a woman's pubic bone to the top of the uterus is roughly equivalent to how far along she is in weeks of pregnancy? Who worked that one out? What made them think of it?! And all those medicines?! We started out making willow bark tea to relieve pain and to reduce fever - now we have antibiotics, acteminophen, and ibuprofen!! And (I just learned this yesterday), if you cover the soles of your feet with Vicks Vapor Rub and put on socks before you go to bed when you have a cold - it'll keep you from coughing all night!! It's true! It's been studied and proven. Who contemplated and tested that one?!

Amazing.

One thing I want to know? Why does food you warm up on the stove stay warmer longer than food you warm up in the microwave?

Now I've got to stop procrastinating long enough to do the dishes, do some laundry, and fill up the kerosene heater. Then I get to do another Sudoku!

Things you get used to

There are things you get used to, don't even think about, until you realize they are missing from your life. Simple things - small gifts of daily existence that give you little pieces of happiness. Like the light on the back of the house that shines a little light into the dark of the back yard and makes it not seem so scary or lonely when you come home late at night. Like the sound of your child's beat-up jalopy pulling up in the driveway, late for dinner again but home safe and sound. Like the warm breeze of a summer morning sailing across the threshold when you open the door in the morning to step out onto the porch and sip hot coffee. Stopping by your parents' house at just the right time to have lunch, dinner, or coffee. Calling your best friend when she's driving home from work and asking, "Whatcha' doin'?" and hearing (just like you expected), "Coming to your house?", even though she's almost home.

I've been thinking about all those things today. I miss them, sometimes so much I feel like I could cry, but, in the end, I am so grateful to have all those little things stored inside my heart. That is happiness all by itself. I am happy today. And full of gratitude for those little things. Gratitude for all those little things absolutely softens the disappointments over the big things that didn't work out or never showed up or that I created for myself. Gratitude is a gift. I say "Thank you". And I am blessed.

Now, time to go put a new light bulb in the light at the back of the house.

More peace to ya!

I stand corrected...

Technically, I only delivered three babies today. Dr. John delivered the fourth by cesarean section. I took care of her all night but that the little one wasn't going to be coaxed out in the traditional method so the alternative route was selected. She was a wee little thing, too. It's funny how sometimes the little ones are the ones that get stuck. So five babies for the practice this weekend - one by cesarean. That's a twenty percent c-section rate - lower than the national average anyway!!

Tomorrow, after Bible Study, I think I shall have a Guiness. I know that those two thoughts there are inconsistent, but I'm in the sparkly place and a Guiness sounds really good just about now. Less than 24 hours left on call!! I've almost made it.

My son Jacob is a North Carolina Teaching Fellow in his second year at UNC-Chapel Hill. He found out this week that he got the summer teaching fellow trip to Ireland!! Another good reason to celebrate with a Guiness.

Nap time!!

My day so far

I've delivered four babies today. Two boys, two girls. One black, one white, two hispanic. All are doing fine and their moms are, too. I've been at the hospital for most of the past thirty hours (hey!! my charts are done!!). I've had little more than three hours of very interrupted sleep. I'm worn out but strangely happy. My friend Bobbi and I used to call this "being in the sparkly place". A strange mixture of sleep deprivation, elation, relief, adrenaline, and gratitude. After twenty years of seeing babies come into this world and twelve years of catching them myself, I am still amazed by each one. That's the miracle of the miracle. God is great, life is good.

And I need some sleep!

Peace.

I love this!

Sometimes it feels like I'm in deep shit the majority of the time! I sure hope I look like I know what I'm doing.

Fox in the hounds........

Sounds like a song to me!

Doing charts

I've been working on charts all afternoon. I hate doing charts. Mostly, it's the dictation I hate. So I'm bad about procrastinating and letting the charts build up in my box. Then I get red slips from the hospital. And they're obviously red slips, so that anybody that sees my box at the office knows that I'm in trouble with my charts again. One of the things about nursing - as with any job I guess - if not for the paperwork, it might be great!

So as I was working on charts I was thinking about relationships. (yes, I do multitask, thank you for noticing). I was thinking mostly about why relationships are so damn hard for some of us and so easy for others. I told a friend of mine once that I was beginning to really believe that people who make relationships look easy are pretending! And I know my grandmother would have admitted, despite her always-positive attitude, that her very long marriage to my grandfather was not easy. I hang out with my parents (54 years married and counting!) and feel better, feel reassured that it isn't always easy. I'm sure that sounds weird - that I would feel reassured, but I do. It helps me believe that, even if it's hard, it can be good and it can last a long, long time.

Relationships (the intimate kind) are very difficult for me. I don't think it was always like that, but then again..... well, maybe it was. It's hard to remember that far back. My adolescence was such a storm anyway!! Seems that, for a good part of my life, I would get in a relationship and, in no time at all, I would lose myself. Just kind of give up essential parts to try to be "pleasing". Next thing I'd know, I would hardly recognize myself anymore. I stayed out of relationships for a long time, until I felt strong enough and comfortable enough in my own skin to not get lost. I have thought that standing my ground and keeping true myself was the best thing to do.

But then..... words like "bitchy" and "self-centered" and "selfish" come around. And I wonder - "damn! am I really a bitch? am I really self-centered? (I am selfish sometimes - aren't we all? I think that is human nature. If you don't believe me, go to a preschool and watch two-year-olds with their toys!) Or am I just taking care of myself? Am I taking care of myself or am I being stubborn? Am I trying to hold my own or am I missing out on something other people have that I don't have because I'm taking care of myself? Are there some of us that are just meant to be solitary?! Is it not possible for another person to love you and let you have the freedom to be who you are?! Did Lucy secretly love Charlie Brown and the whole Schroder thing was just a show?! (Just kidding, we all know she loves Schroder and only Schroder and always will - him and his little piano).

I hate those kind of questions. Who knows the right answer? Who knows how much is the right amount to give without giving up essential parts of yourself? How do you know when to stop? I haven't found that place in the middle yet. And I haven't found a man who is patient enough to wait it out and let me flounder through the process.

I'd like to just go about it a little tiny bit at a time, ya know? Give a little - wait; give a little more, wait again. Seems like that way, the place where you need to stop giving up yourself would be easier to find. Seems like I'm either not giving enough or I'm giving it all.

So I divided all the charts in my box in half, so the task to get them done would not be so overwhelming. They're half done now. The other half tomorrow. Tomorrow, while I'm doing charts, I think I'll try to get my mind to reflect on this: who the hell thought of Sudoku and what made them do it?!

Later.

Milk and honey

And this is the other thing I do.

I've been playing music a lot longer than I've been catching babies.

Music saved my life, continues to save my life, and is second only behind love and faith for what it does for my soul.

I'm glad I don't have to count on it paying my bills, though. I'd be eating Oodles of Noodles and cheap macaroni and cheese. I'm happy to play when I can and catch babies otherwise.

The first thing I remember about myself - the very first memory I have - is me singing to myself in the dark.

The Baby Catcher

So this is me, doing what I do.

I love what I do most of the time.

It's hard work.

And like any job, it's got its drawbacks.

But, if I was ever meant to do anything,

this is it.

So I'm doing it.

Now I am thankful for every word!

This is a print by Brian Andreas. His work is just awesome!

I love you, Mom.

First tries

I've had such a great time reading my friend Michelle's blog that I thought, "Hey! what the hell? I'll give it a try." So here I am, making the first post. Any thoughts? Way too many, to tell you the truth. Seems like my head is always going - full blast - no breaks. Not even when I'm sleeping - which I don't do much with my head going so hard. I'd like to think it's perimenopause, but it seems like I've been like that for almost as long as I can remember. Used to lie awake at night and listen to my sister breathing, sucking her thumb, and rubbing the edge of the blanket between her fingers. When I was a teenager, I lived on two or three hours of sleep a night.

I'm well trained to be a midwife. Which is what I do. Part of my definition. Will have many more thoughts to come. Right now, I need to go do my job.

Peace.