It’s Off to Work we Go

Posted by Debbie in Uncategorized and tagged with , , ,

A momentous occasion takes place today — Domer enters the working world as an intern.

Man working on laptop
(Image via Free Stock Photos)

Ideally, an internship is designed to provide on-the-job training for a young person while they’re still in school. It’s supposed to either reinforce their decision of career field, or lead them down a more suitable path while other options exist.

It’s a Big Deal getting an internship these days. College career centers provide listings and advice, but it’s up to the student to pursue them.

And pursuing them means starting early.

As in first semester.

Domer and his business-major friends would pore over the listings, electronically submitting resumes to whatever company their qualifications matched. They’d do Skype and telephone interviews. They’d even hop on a bus and travel to company headquarters for a day’s worth of interviewing, then bus back to campus.

All this in addition to juggling classes, homework, and other responsibilities.

They’d get their hopes up, to learn someone else got the job they wanted. Or the company decided not to hire an intern after all. Or they got the offer but found it didn’t pay, and by the time they factored in living expenses, it would be more cost-effective to stay home doing nothing.

And they’d start all over again the next day.

Eventually, Domer texted me that he got an internship.

No details. Nada.

‘It’s at a hospital,‘ he said.

Now Domer’s not a big fan of medical stuff. Needles and pain, he can do without. Blood, too.

So I understood his qualms.

‘It’s an internship,’ I reminded him. ‘You don’t have to stay but one summer. And you won’t even know medical stuff is going on because you’ll be doing finance.’

That seemed to perk him up.

He’s had just a week’s “vacation” from school — time to catch up on his video games and reading and golf.

Time to rest. To regroup.

Because for the next several weeks, his classroom will be a place of business.

And he knows he’s one of the lucky ones.

Did you do an internship? Was it worthwhile?

Dogs Get Sick, Too

Posted by Debbie in Family/Parenting and tagged with , ,

Just in time for My Favorite Domer’s return for summer break, the Sheltie has come down with a urinary tract infection.

“Mr. Piddles” wet his little bed last night. He was rather damp when I let him out for his customary Good Morning hugs, but I didn’t think too much about it.

Must have been hot, I told myself — until I saw a wet spot on his mat. And felt said spot. And sniffed my damp fingers. And smelled pee.

Trying not to react too negatively — he’s got delicate feelings like other Shelties — I greeted him and sent him outside.

I went over the check-list of his bedtime routine. Yes, he’d been out. Yes, he’d pottied. No, he hadn’t had any water.

So why had this dog who’s normally as tidy as a nun suddenly soiled his bedding?

I asked Mom, who kept him while I traveled to Notre Dame to fetch the Domer, how he acted during my absence.

He missed you, she told me. He drank a lot of water. And slept a lot.

How was his appetite? I asked.

Fine.

Hmmm. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together.

I called the vet’s office, explained everything to them, and asked if dogs can get kidney or bladder issues.

Of course, they said. We’ll need a urine sample for the lab to analyze. Either bring him in or have him pee in a container.

Oh boy. I live for first-time events like this.

As I was trying to decide which option was more doable, Domer showed up wanting breakfast.

I need your help, I said, having decided against hauling a wet Sheltie anywhere in my clean car.

We’re going to what? Domer asked.

Shrugging, I dug out a Styrofoam cup. Domer leashed up “Mr. Piddles,” and we all went to the back yard.

He’s not going to do it, Domer said, as he and the dog sauntered through the grass.

Sure he will, I countered.

Eventually, “Mr. Piddles” lifted a leg, and I was Johnny-on-the-spot, shoving that Styrofoam beneath him to catch the stream.

All right, Domer said.

Easy.

I wrapped the cup in tin foil and took it to the vet’s office. Ten minutes later, we had the results.

And the sulfa drugs to treat the infection.

I’ve spent more time than I care to admit cleaning “Mr. Piddles’” bed today. Washing everything, Clorox-ing the wet spot, airing out his mattress.

And hoping I don’t have to do it all over again tomorrow.

Should be a wonderful upcoming ten days.

What are you looking forward to in the next week?

Why don’t Laptops come with Full Instructions?

Posted by Debbie in Uncategorized and tagged with , , , , ,

The other day my laptop stopped working.

Without advance notification. While I was in the middle of a client’s huge Website redesign project.

Nooooooooooooooooo, I thought. Not now.

I’d been working on it all morning, before putting it into Hibernation mode over the lunch hour. When I returned, it refused start back up.

Oh, I could hear its fan whoosh for a second. Then promptly go quiet.

I unplugged everything and re-plugged. I waited.

Nothing.

Best Buy’s Geek Squad VW Bug (image compliments of Google Images)

In frustration, I called the Geek Squad at Best Buy, hoping some techy person could help. The tech had me turn on this, unplug that, remove the battery. He had me describe in detail the sounds my machine was making. In the end, he said he couldn’t do any more and recommended I haul it back to the store and let them run a full diagnostics to see what the problem was.

Hmmm. I just didn’t want to do that. I’m up to my ears in work right now, and the store is a good hour’s drive away. That means a minimum of two hours drive time, plus who-knows-how-long waiting time.

Fortunately, my machine is still in warranty, so I called toll-free to the company that made it.

After explaining the problem again and detailing the steps I’d already performed for the Geek Squad, this representative asked me which lights were lit. To which I responded, ‘None of them. I’ve unplugged everything in preparation for taking it back to the store.’

He had me plug it back in and Voila! It worked!

Now before you think I’m another computer illiterate, I have to remind you I’ve been running my own Web Design company for eleven years now. I’ve lost count of how many computers — PCs and laptops — I’ve owned, how many lines of computer code I’ve written or corrected, how many computer issues I’ve helped others with.

And while none of us ever knows all there is to know about anything, I rather assumed I knew something about computers.

But I was wrong.

Turns out, leaving a fully charged laptop plugged in and charging makes the battery OVER-charge. It gets hot and bothered, so to speak, and just shuts down.

No bells. No whistles. No red flag. No popup warning.

Nothing. It never started smoking, never felt hot.

Why hadn’t I heard that before? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t in the manual that came with my laptop.

Oh, who am I kidding? Maybe it was. I certainly don’t read those things!

So there you have it. Learn from my mistake.

If you usually work on your laptop while it’s plugged in, at least unplug it at night to give the battery a chance to drain (or whatever it is batteries do at night!)

Did you already know this? (And if so, why didn’t you tell me?!?)

Thinking about Mother’s Day

Posted by Debbie in Family/Parenting, Seasonal and tagged with , , , ,

My Favorite Domer called me yesterday to wish me a happy Mother’s Day.

“No card. No flowers,” he said. “I just wanted to call and tell you ‘I love you.’”

I had to laugh — it’s easier than crying!

Despite my persistent efforts, Domer has never been a card and flowers kind of guy. Perhaps it’s because he grew up away from his dad, who always did the card and flowers thing when it came to special occasions (thank you, Ex!). Perhaps it’s because Domer never saw his Pa-Pa buy cards and flowers for his grandma.

But I’m convinced it’s because of a new teacher he had when he was an impressionable high school freshman.

One day toward Valentine’s Day, some of the girls in Domer’s class were asking Mr. Young-Attractive-Hot-Shot what kind of flowers he’d purchased for his sweetie. Whereupon, Mr. Young-Attractive-Hot-Shot said he wasn’t giving them, then expounded on his philosophy that flowers were a waste of money. That as soon as you cut flowers, they start to die. That he wouldn’t want anybody special to have to receive dead flowers.

Huh??

I sincerely hope Mr. Young-Attractive-Hot-Shot had an understanding lady friend. Or has since changed his evil ways!

When Domer was little, as soon as he could print his name, I bought cards and had him give them to special people on special occasions. I never failed to give him cards on special occasions, either.

Yes, Hallmark loves me — I must be their biggest fan!

But somehow, Domer never got into cards. He told me yesterday that he can’t imagine being an old person and remembering the verse on a card somebody gave him years ago.

I countered that I might not remember the verse when I’m old, but I’ve saved ALL of my cards in boxes so I can wade through them at leisure. “That way, I can remember that once I was a young mom and I was loved,” I added.

“You’re loved now,” was all he said.

And it’s all that needed to be said.

How did you celebrate Mother’s Day 2012?

“Beautiful” or “Extreme”?

Posted by Debbie in Family/Parenting and tagged with , , , ,

The newest issue of Time magazine offers a cover that’s sure to stir up debate in parenting circles.

A lovely, blonde, 26-year-old stay-at-home mom from Los Angeles is portrayed breastfeeding her three-year-old son, who’s standing on a chair to reach mom’s milk.

The mother justifies still nursing her young child with the fact that her own mother didn’t wean her until she was six!

Now, I’m way past the nursing stage. My son is 21 years old, in college, and by all definitions, a man. But I find myself disturbed by “attachment parenting,” something concocted by Dr. Bill Sears 20 years ago.

“Attachment parenting” proponents believe moms should rush to their child, respond to its every cry, form close bonds by hovering physical contact, let the child sleep in its parents’ bed, and carry children in slings rather than pushing them in strollers.

That goes against the grain of what I learned about child care.

I believe children grow and mature when they learn they’re able to do things for themselves. Things like sleeping. And eating.

Domer’s pediatrician told me when my son was just about to turn over his first birthday that the bottle had to go, or I’d have trouble weaning him. He also said rocking and singing to Domer every night before bedtime was nice but unnecessary, suggesting I put my son in the crib, turn out the light, and shut the door.

Doc (bless him!) was right on both counts.

So it concerns me when I read about a three-year-old still nursing. I mean, this child has teeth, for crying out loud! Not only that, but most kids three years old are in day care or preschool. Do they expect mom to show up periodically for feedings there?

And another thing. What psychological effect does breastfeeding have on the development of a young child, if that child is almost old enough to realize what’s happening? Doesn’t it become more than mere “food” when a child is walking, talking, interacting with others, thinking, and reasoning?

Years ago, I came into contact with a woman who admitted breastfeeding her four-year-old child “occasionally. I thought that was odd. Now I learn some breastfeeding proponents are hoping American moms will become comfortable nursing children of any age!

Seriously? Are we supposed to follow them to college, too? Maybe they can nurse on us while their kids nurse on them!

I didn’t buy into this “trend” when Domer was little, and I’m not buying it now. It’s like these moms are finding their sole mission in life being tethered to their kids. Making decisions for them. Refusing to let them grow up. Refusing to welcome their own next stage of life.

Parenting means giving your kids roots and wings. Roots to ground them. Wings to fly.

“Attachment parenting” prolongs the baby stage, which is already long enough, isn’t it?

What do you think? Is breastfeeding beyond babyhood beautiful, or is it extreme?

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

Posted by Debbie in Uncategorized and tagged with , ,

When my mom and dad first came to town, they bought a new house in a new subdivision, right in time for them to start raising a family.

One of the trees they purchased to landscape their new yard was a Colorado Blue Spruce.

Colorado Blue Spruce (image thanks to Google Images)

These evergreens feature lovely silvery, blue-green needles and reach heights of about 100 feet. Their cones are concentrated in the upper branches. New growth in spring is soft; as the seasons progress, the needles become more spiky.

When my folks prepared to move to a new house, they promptly dug the still-small spruce up — root ball and all — and insisted it come along, too. This, despite most people’s opinion that moving an established tree would kill it.

But our tree must have liked its new home, for it not only grew but thrived.

Birds hopped and sang on its branches. Squirrels and rabbits darted underneath it for cover.

It was especially beautiful in the winter months, when snow clung to its limbs and we’d decorate it with Christmas lights — that is, until it got so tall we couldn’t reach the top any more!

The past few years, however, were rough ones for trees of this species. Little by little, we watched our tree’s needles drop (and not grow back). It became scraggly and tired, almost as if it had given up on life.

We consulted an expert, who said the tree had some kind of fungus. He said he could spray it a few times and, if we watered it heavily, it might survive.

Expensive, with no guarantees.

Another local service assured us the tree was dying and wouldn’t pull out of its funk. He said he’d seen trees all over town like ours that had become infected with the fungus and had to be removed.

It’s up to you, he said.

Then we started noticing similar spruces. A neighbor has one that looks as if it got caught in a forest fire; another neighbor cut his tree’s bottom branches as high as he could reach in an effort to remove the dried twigs and stop the fungus from spreading.

Ultimately, we decided to put our blue spruce out of its misery. One day, I took the Sheltie for a walk and by the time I returned, the tree was gone.

Not that it was a long walk. They were just that fast.

Probably sensed how attached we were to the tree. How hard it was going to be to part with it.

We’re trying to grow grass over the bare spot now, but the house still looks odd without that shock of blue. What is it about a tree that evokes such strong feelings in us?

Buggy in the Morning

Posted by Debbie in Uncategorized and tagged with , , , , ,

You know how groggy you are first thing in the morning? Well, imagine seeing this in your bathroom sink:

House centipede, thanks to University of Nebraska Department of Entomology

No, not this particular centipede, but one very much like it.

And it was moving!

Stifling a scream, I looked around for something, anything, to smash it with. A shoe, a book, a tissue.

Finally I grabbed a scented candle in a glass holder (figured I could wash the bug-juice off that!).

Worked just fine, and I quickly flushed him (or her) down the sink.

Now I don’t know about you, but bugs — particularly prehistoric-looking bugs — give me the willies.

I’m talking about things like centipedes, earwigs, cockroaches, scorpions, that sort of bug.

No, they’re not technically “bugs,” but who cares? They’re pests, they don’t pay rent or house notes, and they don’t belong in my living quarters!

The bad thing about living in the South (besides the hurricanes, of course!) was the proliferation of roaches. Didn’t seem to matter how clean you were, either. And when I lived in Texas we had scorpions to contend with.

Blame the hot weather, which this year they’ve shared with us.

Figures they’d share unpleasant critters, too!

The weather folks have said this probably will be a bad year for pests. Our Midwestern winter, they said, was too easy. Not near enough snow and ice. Too few cold days to kill them all off.

So we’re paying for this mildness with a bucket-load of bugs. Delightful.

Centipedes, in case you were wondering, are nocturnal and typically live under rocks or logs or leaf debris. The house version likes damp areas like bathrooms, so my little critter was just doing what came naturally.

Too bad. Now it’s gone.

Centipedes don’t really have 100 legs (it’s more like 15 pairs), but they can move fast. If you find one, it’s best to squash it and vacuum up the remains.

Or just smash it and send it down the drain.

Your choice.

Question — Which “bugs” are your least favorite to have in the house?

Beading in the Rain

Posted by Debbie in Fashion and tagged with , , , , ,

In my little part of the world, we’ve had nothing but rain for days on end.

Downpours. Cold. Wind. Thunderstorms.

But I’m not asking for sympathy. No siree. When the weather gets bad, some people read; others sleep.

I bead.

And since I had to attend a special dinner on Saturday evening with Mom, I used that morning to whip up a new pair of earrings to match the outfit I was planning on wearing.

Here’s what I came up with:

Earrings by me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You can’t see the pretty detail from this picture (blame the cloudy skies and the flash on my camera insisting on leaving a gaudy white spot on the black background). But they perfectly matched the color in my top. . . .Wait, I have a better idea! I’ll write a fancy sales copy paragraph describing them.

Simple and elegant – The bottom half of this handmade pair of beaded dangling earrings features five matching, 5 mm round, pink pearls separated by a 1/8-inch ornate silver tube bead. A figure 8 connector attaches the bottom portion to a half-inch long antique silver tube bead. Silver leverback findings provide an easy and secure on/off. Perfect for dress occasions! Flirty and attractive, just in time for summer!

No, I don’t sell my jewelry online — yet. I’ve been told I should, but as it is, I have more than enough on my plate running a business and writing. And the thought of taking every single piece I’ve made out of its protective bag, photographing it in the best possible light, writing sales copy, designing a Website, and placing all those items on it — not to mention the actual selling of the pieces, boxing them up, shipping them, etc. — just makes me weary.

So, for now at least, I’ll just continue to love beading. It’s relaxing, and there’s something that satisfies me to the core in selecting beads, playing with colors and textures, molding them together, and rejoicing in the pleasure of being creative.

Is it wrong to love doing something, just for yourself?

Sharing Secrets

Posted by Debbie in Uncategorized and tagged with , , , , ,

When you work for yourself like I do, it’s sometimes tempting to skip the makeup and dressing routine.

After all, who sees you except your trusty computer? And it doesn’t judge.

But I’ve never given in to that temptation. Every morning, rain or shine, outside appointment or not, I “do” my face and put on something other than PJs.

Why? Is it vanity? Or habit? Or fear of scaring people who might show up at my door? Or some combination of all that?

I had an aunt (she divorced my uncle, so I guess she’s technically not still my aunt) who used to get up WAY before her husband and kids. Just so she could “put her face on” and they wouldn’t have to see her au naturel.

I used to think that was a bit radical. I mean, did she expect them to love her any less in her bare face than in her made-up face?

Or maybe she just couldn’t stand the thought of accidentally seeing her own nude face reflected in a mirror?

Anyway, that’s not my concern. I’m taking notes from my computer and refusing to judge.

Some women have gorgeous skin and need very little touching up to keep it that way. Lucky them!

Others have issues. Sun damage, acne or its scars, wrinkles or blotchiness.

I happen to have Rosacea.

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? A rosy complexion.

But who wants to look like they’re blushing all day every day? Or like they’re an alcoholic? When they’re NOT!

As a child, I had a peaches-and-cream complexion with light blonde hair (typical Rosacea appearance, thanks in part to my Irish heritage). Shortly after I turned 30, I noticed a persistent pinkness on my cheeks that showed up when I blushed but didn’t go away after the blush should have been over.

People, even doctors, pointed out that I must have been in too much sun. But I haven’t consciously let the sun touch my face in many years; rather, I douse my skin in sunscreen and often wear a brimmed hat.

Finally, I found a dermatologist who diagnosed my Rosacea and put me on medication. No, it’s not curable, but how many obituaries have you read where the person died from Rosacea?

And I’m in good company — former President Bill Clinton, J.P. Morgan, and Mariah Carey all had/have Rosacea. So did W.C. Fields.

But I’m one of the lucky ones. I caught it early, before the symptoms could worsen and involve more than just my face. In fact, most people I know never would guess I have it!

So, there you have my rationale for makeup. To cover my red face.

Is it vanity? Perhaps, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

Any secrets you’d care to share?

Bunny Tales (or should I say, Tails?)

Posted by Debbie in Seasonal and tagged with , , ,

I hate to say this, but when God was handing out brains, rabbits were in another line.

Oh, they’re cute, all right. And they can hop and run fast. And I’ve never heard of one attacking anything (except, perhaps a veggie garden!)

But why are mama rabbits so dumb?

I mean, we have a large, fenced backyard, perfect for the Sheltie to run. We have trees and bushes, where the Sheltie can lounge or play hide-and-seek.

It’s not a yard where anybody would be dumb enough to drop their litter of babies, then run off and ignore them for hours on end.

Backyard bunny nest

But leave it to an as-yet-unseen Mama Bunny — that’s just what she did.

The other day, I watched from a window while the Sheltie went out to potty. He doesn’t get a cookie reward unless he accomplishes something, and I’ve known him to fib!

Well, he kept nosing around this one spot, circling it, examining it, curiosity written all over his furry face.

He’d found something.

Having just proofed an article on rabies in wildlife that a friend had penned for the local newspaper, I feared the worst.

A dead animal. With rabies.

So I braved the outdoors to check. What I saw was a patch of rabbit’s fur on the ground, and the fur was moving!

Mama Bunny had thrown caution to the wind and dropped her babies right in my backyard. Right where the Sheltie could get at them, if he was so inclined.

Now every time he goes out, I’m having to remind him to keep away from that bunny hole. So far, he seems to understand.

But he’s mighty curious. And every time the door opens, he high-tails it outside, right to THE SPOT.

Where he watches. And listens. And sniffs.

I can only hold him off so long. When those babies pop out of that hole, he’s going to have a field day herding them around the yard!

If the neighbor’s cats don’t get them first.