Shattering Ornaments

Today I am shattering ornaments.

It was not my plan.

   Every item on my agenda today has been warped six ways from Santa. 

 I have been in that ring of Dante's Hell where you are on the

 phone with a service company a zillion times.

 If I explain myself once more a vessel in my head is going to burst. 

I hung these from from chandelier that is over the dining table.

 It took maybe eight minutes (do not use glue dots). 

You, my darlings know by now that Olive is not a crafting kind of blogger.

 I thrift, I decorate, I garden. 

But no crafts.

If this even qualifies as being creative.

Whilst I was on the phone (for the fourth time) with the overly

 polite service person I hear the sound of ornaments breaking. 

Loudly.

There is glass all over the floor as well and I stepped on it.

The glass is not the only thing that is shattered here today.

 Now this company tells me I am NOT an authorized user.  

Dear Lord, I may shatter some ornaments on purpose.

The weekend was nuts too and I am still working on the blogroll. 

My blog reading list is in Pages at the top of the blog.

Linking@Christmas Decorating On A Budget

Wow Us Wednesday's

Tweak It Tuesday's

Happy Christmas

Olive

Keep on Listening

Listen. Keep on listening.

Breathe deeply.

Dance in the rain.

Just dance.

Cook and bake. Eat pie. Or cookies.

In moderation.

Pray. Every day. Read poems. Heck just read. Books. Lots of them.

Walk often. Drink hot tea. Or coffee.

Plant flowers. Kiss the cat. Call the kid. Sit on the sofa with the hubs. Every day.

People before objects. Measure your days by time spent with others.

Be slow to anger. Quick to listen. Keep on listening.

 

goals by olive cooper

 

grace surrounds us

Olive

A Guardian Angel in Prison

I was a Director of Nursing at a large prison in the state of Georgia. It was not a glamorous or a overly important job position. I believe I had six employees. We did care for fifteen hundred inmates and I used many agency nurses to assist us.

One of my duties was to order and then to pick up the monthly supplies for the medical unit. It was usually quite the expedition. I was required to have an officer with me at all times. I also took an inmate orderly with me to lift the boxes.

One of the medical orderlies, Mr. N had attained Trusty status which means his security risk was the lowest. Trusty inmates have not been in any trouble for many years and have no discipline reports. Which is good. We liked Trusty orderlies to work in medical and places like the Warden’s office. Mr. N was also a Christian. He was one of the rare felons who would look you in the eye and tell you he was guilty and deserved to be in prison. Everyone else was innocent, of course.

One day Mr. N, the officer, and myself took off with a huge buggy to the laundry to get supplies. You had to go through the hot laundry room to get to the warehouse area. Before the warehouse is an anteroom.  Almost a cage really. A prison is full of locked cages.

I picked up the supplies. The buggy over flowed so a supply orderly was helping us. Several inmates and I were in the anteroom and the officer left me. He left me there in the anteroom with four felons and no one else. It was an awful breach of protocol. Yes, I was afraid. Then Mr. N stepped closer to me and said, “Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here” with quiet confidence. You see, he was respected because of his faith and how he served others in that place. He was also six feet tall and had huge biceps.

Size is not always a factor however. I saw little guys fight like crazy in the prison system too. I witnessed the aftermath of stabbings and many terrible things I will not discuss further.

My being left in that cage shook me. After that I demanded a radio. Which I was given reluctantly. A radio can save you in a bad situation and keep you informed of the happenings in that walled and gated city. I kept that radio with me. It was my buddy.

Mr. N, though it was not planned, actually was moved to the prison I transferred to just before I retired. It was such a blessing to see him care for the sick inmates in our little prison hospital. He became a Certified Nursing Assistant via classes my supervisor taught.

He has been released. He is home with his wife who stood by him through sixteen years of incarceration for robbing an ATM machine. They have nine children.

He was my guardian angel that day. The reality of what could have happened is unspeakable. He stood in the breach. God placed him there for me that day. He was an answer to a quick prayer.

I am linking with Cindy at I Owe It All to Him for her link party. Please visit and read the other accounts of how people have made a difference in the most special ways.

To better understand Christ’s view of the care and treatment of prisoner’s read Matthew 25:31-46. 

 

grace surrounds us

Olive

 

WrAPpiNg uP tHiS wEeK and LoOkInG aHeAD

Happy Weekend Y’all!

We are on a working vacation at our yellow house.

This week has been tough.

I feel a bit lost and out of sorts. I think you will see why.

A friend, merely thirty six years old, died early Monday. When my phone beeped at five thirty in the morning , I knew it could not be good.

She had only been married for two years. Her father quietly wept through out the entire service.

Joe was in a car accident this evening. He is fine. Mad. But fine.

This is the second time in a few months he has been stopped at a light and rear ended. His car insurance will increase despite the fact he was not at fault. That is nuts.

In spite of it all we are blessed and know it.

Yard sales with Joe in the morning! Yay!

CC, finally can attend True North Church with us on Sunday.

We are thankful for rain and with it a break from the terrible heat we have been having here in the South.

grace surrounds us

Olive

The Potter

I am a vessel

Imperfect

Being molded every day

Sometimes placed in the fire

To my benefit

Gently, I am released

Revealed

Yet, O Lord, you are our Father.

We are the clay, you are the potter;

we are all the work of your hand.

Isaiah 64:8

grace surrounds us

Olive

Joe and Olive Lost in the Country

This is a divinely lazy cat. Unlike this cat we were not lazy today. Y'all we had far too many errands in a short time period to get them all done. All this getting lost business that occurred later just slowed us down. It started this way. Joe went to an appointment while I walked around one of those huge manly store's. It usually exhausts me. I do dig the plants. Today I was beyond good as I did not buy one plant.

Then we got divinely lost. Twice. I will only share the second time here. Joe, bless him has a math-mind. I do not. He is so very scientific about getting from point A to point B. He speaks like this "You go east on the Interstate Olive." What? I don't get around that way. Give me a landmark. Tell me to turn at the gas station or to go right at Louie's. Anyho I had in my mind we could get to this office in the center of the county one way. Joe peered at the map looking something akin to a college professor and proclaimed we would go another way. Fine.

We took off. Down country roads. Wooded roads. Long beautiful roads with little railroad mill towns. Fifty miles out of the way. I did not gloat. I know I had an excellent "told you so" moment. My path could have gotten us there in twenty miles. Our relationship is such that we laughed at ourselves. Joe says he planned it all along. Right.

grace surrounds us
Olive

My New British Friend

We have had our little yellow house for six months now. We have met everyone in the vicinity except for the neighbor closest to us. Everyone told us she had no interest in talking to anyone at all. Interesting. Her dog does not mind eliminating in our yard at all. I have imagined her watching me out of her windows. Her house sits a little above ours. She is elderly and not well we have been told. Three of our trees need to be removed. I told Joe it would be just our luck one of them would fall on something that belonged to the person who did not acknowledge us!

On Sunday we attended the early church service at TrueNorth. Awesome. It. Was. Then we had lots and lots of yellow house stuff to do before returning to our old house. Joe was working on a table and he hung a lovely shabby chic chandelier. I worked in the flower garden. Miniature roses are about to blossom. Yeh. I can't wait to see them. I was fertilizing and watering the roses when our backyard neighbor stepped out on her porch to speak to her grandson who was washing her car. I waved at her. It was literally the first chance I had to wave or speak to her. She is that reclusive. She said welcome to the neighborhood and told me to come over. I did. We talked for thirty minutes. She first told me she was married but her husband lived with a whore. Ahem. How do you respond to that? I really didn't as she kept on telling me about herself. She is from London and has that great British accent. She is charming and blunt in a distinctly British fashion.

Anyone close to me knows I read British mysteries. P.D.James, Ruth Rendell, and Agatha Christie are some of my favorites. To now have an albeit grouchy British friend right in my backyard is splendid. I feel she is lonely and needs cheering a bit. Maybe we can have tea. I will bring scones.

grace surrounds us
Olive Out

What Do a Razor, Staple Gun and Pliers Have in Common?

Have you ever known anyone who stapled their own leg wound, cut off their own hemorrhoid and pulled out their tooth with pliers? I have. These folks are amazing and special. I worked with a CERT team officer at a prison whose nick name was Stone Cold. He loved to fish and hunt when he wasn't working at the prison sixty hours a week. He was hunting one morning and jumped a barbed wire fence and filleted his calf. He had about a seven inch long wound. He went home and stapled it himself. He did not know if his tetanus was up to date. Hence the nick name.

Linda, an advanced Nurse Practitioner, tied her hemorrhoid off with a rubber band and sliced it off with a razor. Words cannot express the pain involved here. How did she do this? I imagine she injected herself with 2% Lidocaine first to numb the area. But still. I don't wish to visualize this. What position does one get oneself in to do this? Anyho I am afraid of her. She is the woman.

Cruella, Cruella, my dearest Cruella. She is my friend as well as the person who does my nails. One of her upper large teeth broke off over the weekend. She had an appointment for Monday to see the dentist. She could not wait as the pain was excruciating. She simply cleaned a pair of pliers with alcohol and pulled out that tooth. She thought nothing of it. It took immediate care of her pain and saved her money. Simple. She does not understand that ninety-nine per cent of the population would not do this. She did have oral surgery on Monday to finish the job. This explains a lot actually. She has not one iota of sympathy when doing my nails.

These three are not ordinary individuals. They take charge of their bodies, much like people in our recent past had to before we became such a nanny state. I am not recommending this behavior as a course of action for anyone to take under similar conditions, however I admire their spirit immensely.

grace surrounds us
Olive Out

I Never Wish To Do These Things Again

There are some things I never wish to do again. One is testify at a friends divorce trial. Always, always a terrible idea. The last time I did this I truly wanted to hurt somebody. A bad attitude rose in me in the most awful dark way. I do not want to feel that any more. I cannot fathom how people who share children can treat each other so cruelly. I was asked if I had been in a bar in 1976. This was actually funny and stupid on the lawyers part as I was a minor and did not know my friend at that time. That is how dirty those proceedings go. Apparently they just make up unpleasant facts.

The second thing I never wish to do is bail someone out of jail. I really think this one is self explanatory. I was working at the hospital on a weekend. The weekends were invariably short staffing wise. However a first degree relative of mine called and needed my services in the worst way. "Olive, I am in jail. Please get me out now." Now? My next question was what on earth did relative X do to get there in the first place. I did not like the answer. I left the hospital and put up a property bond. X was free on bond. I am not a fan of the whole making bond process. Just not ladylike.

The third thing is playing games. Yes games. Especially Cranium. I have no patience for games. I know the genius people of Mensa sit around and play them. So what! I will play Jenga. I recently played Domino Train. After suffering through fifty-nine rules or more I kind of like it. The Domino tiles are pretty and feel calming like prayer beads. I could see those dominoes in a glass jar somewhere. I am decorating in my head all the time. But in truth the actual game was enjoyable. I am up to a grand total of two games I like. A few years ago it was zero. Still growing, that's me. Just don't ask me to testify at your divorce trial.



grace surrounds us
Olive Out

CC Wins a Major Award

Have you ever been flummoxed by a seemingly simple question? A daycare worker asked me how I got CC to say "thank you" and "yes mam". Well. At the time she asked CC was four. I replied that from the time she learned to talk she was taught these things and they were reinforced when needed. Simple really. Apparently CC was only one of a few children with manners at the daycare. I was thankful I did spend a lot of time with her as I had a flexible schedule as a nurse.

When she was in the second grade I went alone to her awards ceremony. She attended a private Christian school. Her Dad had to work. She was to receive no academic awards that she was aware of so we did not invite the grand-parents. The ceremony went on as they do. I was thinking of other things. Her teacher, Mrs. Beatrice Weathers, was an imposing figure to be certain. She was a firm but good teacher. CC really loved her. She was announcing the student award for Christian Character. The student who embodies a Christ-like character when interacting with others. It was CC. Oh my. CC was pleasantly surprised. I was also. I wished the rest of the family had been there. CC walked up front, beaming, and received that reward.

Then I drove her to our little dollar store. I told her she could get one toy. She took a long time deciding as children do. She could not decide between the "vanilla" bear and the "chocolate" bear. I told her to decide because we had to leave. She picked the vanilla. In the checkout aisle she laid in the floor and kicked the checkout counter demanding the chocolate bear. She kicked the tar out of that counter! I called that a Fo Fit. She used to have them when she was a toddler. That Christian Character slipped a bit. Yes?

CC is a freshman in a state college at present. She could win that award again today. She is a grounded young lady who knows what she stands for and who she serves. Fo Fits are definitely a laugh from the past.

grace surrounds us
Olive Out

Freak Show Scene One

Sometimes a person needs to choose her attitude. Whether to cry or to laugh for instance. When I transferred to work at a different state prison it was never mentioned that I would be the mental health nurse on the weekend. I would be the only one. The one in charge of all the psychiatric inmates.
 The prison has four crisis stabilization beds. Which means inmates who are suicidal, unstable, or generally terribly whacked out are placed there. Sometimes they are naked and tied with leather restraints to a mattress. An officer checks them every fifteen minutes. The nursing and medical staff checks them all the time as well. Needless to say it is a freak show. There are an additional twelve step-down crisis beds in another building the mental health staff supervises. The mental health inmate population in this prison averages around six hundred inmates. The weekend RN can be called to see any of them at any time.
The first weekend I had to work I did have the wisdom to insist that another RN orient me. I had never had mental health training outside of college.
My first day, a Saturday, a regular frequent flyer, was there. Let's call him Derrick. He was twenty years old. White, deathly so, as he had not seen the sun in many many months. His favorite distraction was masturbation. Most inmates do this. But Derrick had achieved a special status as a master at this among the staff. Dr. Tice, seventy years old, said one day that he almost envied Derrick his ability. We laughed out loud at this. I was being oriented by Linda, a RN, a character in herself. We walked back to that CSU first thing. I said hello to Derrick through the thick prison glass. He said " Shut the Hell Up You White Motherfiiing Bitch" and threw urine under the three inch space in the door onto my white shoes. I don't recall what I said to him at that moment. I did back out and clean my shoes. Linda was howling with laughter. She said that was typical and not a bad start really. Really? This is when you choose your attitude. I laughed and laughed. Then I called Joe and he laughed with me.

The remainder of that day was uneventful. I learned that everything done for the mental health patients had to be written in triplicate. That right there was worse than Derrick by far. Linda and I walked out those six locked gates with satisfaction because we finished on time. Joe was sitting in the parking lot on his big motorcycle, he took off his helmet, smiled handsomely and said "I'm here for my bitch."
Olive Out