run on sentences

My friend and Sunday running buddy Sid, often quotes this entire essay from memory.    I think it has a good message. THE STATION By Robert J. Hastings    TUCKED AWAY in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision.  We see ourselves on a long, long trip that almost spans the continent.  We're traveling by passenger train, and out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls, of biting winter and blazing summer and cavorting spring and docile fall.      But uppermost in our minds is the final destination.  On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station.  There will be bands playing and flags waving.  And once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true.  So many wishes will

Written by Randy Sparks Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine I'll taste your strawberries I'll drink your sweet wine A million tomorrows shall all pass away And ere I forget all the joy that is mine today. I'll be a dandy and I'll be a rover You'll know who I am by the songs that I sing I'll feast at your table and I'll lie in your clover Who cares what tomorrow shall bring. Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine I'll taste your strawberries I'll drink your sweet wine A million tomorrows shall all pass away And ere I forget all the joy that is mine today. I can't be contented with yesterday's glory I can't live on promises winter to spring Today is my moment and now is my story I'll laugh and I'll cry and I'll sing. Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine I'll taste your strawberries I'll drink your sweet wine A million tomorrows shall all pass away And ere I

The last of a long line of lucky left- over and unwanted- by- others- cats who shared a good life with my sister and Siggie, died last week.  Her name was Mama Meese and I previously wrote about her in another entry entitled "Georgetta Legs".  Mama Meese is deserving of a second tribute. For the past several years, when I went back to see my sis, I thought it might be the last time I would see Ma Meese.  No one knew exactly how old she was but she now was deaf, had no teeth and weighed about 8 pounds I bet.  My unofficial diagnosis was that she has some sort of cancer that was not allowing her to absorb any food so everything she ate came right through her.  She seemed constantly hungry and when Siggie was still alive, she spent a lot of time trying to find just the right thing that Mama would eat -opening many different cans of cat food before the finicky cat would be satisfied.  Siggie could often be heard calling her a bitch...but of course Mama was deaf, so it didn'

Several years ago when we were visiting my mom and dad, and after a long conversation with her grandpa, my daughter said to me "Your dad is underrated".  I knew exactly what she meant and as the years go by after his death - it will be 7 years on the 24th - I realize more and more just how deep he was.  He didn't go to college but he was smarter than many people who did.  He didn't go to church (except on Christmas Eve) but was more spiritual than many who go every Sunday.  He didn't have much money but gave what he had.  He loved the outdoors and being in the woods.  My dad didn't say very much and sometimes one wondered if he was ever going to answer a question or make a comment.  Some may have thought that he was a little "slow" but the truth is, he was a thinker and didn't always come up with a fast answer. He was also a writer and I wish he had saved more of the things he wrote about growing up and his thoughts on society.  He submitted a

A few nights ago I had a work dream of a different variety.  I was attending an emergency department nursing conference and was a speaker.  Unfortunately I had forgotten I was asked to speak and was not at all prepared.  "But I am not even working anymore," I protested to someone who remained unidentified in my dream.  "Well you said you would speak" that person said.  "And they are counting on you".  I thought of all my work experiences/accomplishments.  I could talk about doing evaluations or putting together a budget or creating a new charge nurse role.  But I wasn't working.   So I would not be credible as a speaker.  Then it came to me....the title of my speech would be "What a hospital cafeteria cook can teach you about kindness".  I woke up wondering how I would have pulled this off.   I did know a lot of hospital cooks in my time and many of them were great at what they did - but I could not think of one thing they did that

So this post won't make any sense to anyone but direct family members...but come to think of it, maybe a lot of my posts don't make much sense anyway to the three people who might read them.  And why am I making excuses for what I am about to write?  I don't know.  Forget I said anything.  This is great.  My family is great.  My blog is great.  My delusional self talk is great. A few weeks ago, Kseniya and I were texting back and forth.  We had just returned from Dan's medical school graduation in Chicago (another post at another time - coming soon) and we had gone to a Cub's game.  It was freezing there and if it were not for Dan's girlfriend who lent us an assortment of hoodies, we would have been more uncomfortable.  She said she was well stocked up on hoodies because she is always cold - I can relate to that. Freezing at the Cubs game - but loving it!  Anyway we were talking about the Cub's game and I said: "We should make Ubs some socks (

Today I set out on my Saturday run around 8:15 am. It was already about 65 degrees.   I should have started out earlier but if I am running by myself, I have a hard time doing that even though most days I am up at 530 or 6 a.m. My once large Saturday running group has dwindled down to just me most days. I wasn't sure how far I would go – usually it depends on how I feel.  I play funny games like if I find a coin on the road, I use it as a sign that I have to go further than usual. Today I didn't find any coins but I used a different measure – seeing people I know. During the first mile, I saw my friend Julie and her husband riding their bikes – packed and ready to go somewhere.  Julie used to run with me until she got painful hips. Seeing them made me vow to go at least 6 miles. Then at mile 6, I saw another friend, Eileen, also riding her bike. “I will go at least 7 miles”, I said to myself or maybe I said it out loud. I am not sure some

Every year on the first day of June, I think of parts of a poem I had to memorize years ago in school: And what is so rare as a day in June if ever come perfect days And heaven follows earth if it be in tune And over it softly her warm ear lays Whether we look or whether we listen We can hear life murmur and see it glisten Today as I started my run on a beautiful first day of June, this lovely poem once again came to my mind. I was feeling sad for a reason unknown to me – sad enough to feel tears go down my sweaty face at about mile 3 of my ten mile run. Someone once told me that if you feel inexplicably sad, look at your calendar. I realized that tomorrow would have been my 38 th year at my former job. On June 2 nd 1975 I walked up the hill to the first day of what would be my lifelong career. I was 21 years old and a long way from home but I had my first nursing job. 35 1/2 years later, on January 7 th 2011, I closed the door to my offi

Today I ran at noon.  I am usually a morning runner but I barely passed the coffee test this morning (coffee test  = waking up feeling like crap + drinking coffee and feeling better = passed).  Sore throat, runny nose, ear stuffed with stuffing because last week I had the drum repaired for the third time - and I am not supposed to blow my nose or cough or sneeze.  Anyway I felt better after coffee and sudafed.  I knew I would feel better if I ran.  I put my running clothes on which caused the dogs to be excited cause they might get to go for a walk.  I walked them, thinking that this was better than doing nothing - 2.5 miles.  I felt a little better after that but I knew I would. After doing my stay at home mom stuff including washing bedding, hanging it on clothesline and vacuuming it was getting close to 11am.  Strangely I could not bring myself to take a shower which to me was a sign that I still had to make myself run.  Strangely I wanted to run.  It was a beautiful 60 degrees

I have weird dreams.  Some of them are so bad that I don't share them with others, and they cause me to question my sanity or lack thereof.  Like the one where my calf muscles really weren't muscles but Orio cookies nicely stashed inside the back of my leg. My most recent weird dream involved my grandpa Ojanen - my dad's dad.  He died when he was 94 and was a strong Finnish man of few words - but a wise man who worked hard his entire life after leaving Finland when he was 18 as a result of a fight with his drunk father.  He swore he would never return to Finland and never did, leaving behind a twin brother and other siblings we never met.  Instead he settled in Greenland, MI and later in Mudd Creek, after building a home and a farm there and raising a family - the youngest who became my dad.  I was closer to grandpa (despite that he would not let me drive a tractor because I was "just a girl") than my grandma Ojanen, who was not very affectionate and seemed her

Last week I was in Winston Salem, North Carolina, at this great place called the Graylyn.  I was at a meeting, but that's not important to this blog - not really - or at least this is not what this post is about - I will save it for another time.  My room was originally a horse stable.  That's not so important either.  It was a nice room with rock walls and a long weird area where if I was so inclined, I could have practiced yoga.  On the last morning of the meeting, I woke up at 5:45 to the alarm on my not smart phone.  I set the alarm cause I wanted to go running.   I have just gotten back into it after the shoulder surgery.  But when I woke up I didn't want to go even though I wanted to go.   My meeting started at 8.  I didn't have coffee in the room and I need my coffee before running.  I had a Crown Royale and Coke (fancy crabby juice) and a few glasses of wine with dinner and my head was a little sore and my throat parched.  My surgerized rotator cuff hurt.  So

I have been trying to complete this entry for the past month, since having surgery on my shoulder.  Everything  I wrote sounded self- pitying and I am not good at that.  At least not outwardly, and who wants to read stuff about how I can't run, can't style my limp hair, can't drive,  etc, etc.  Some people have it a lot worse, my mama taught me. March has always sucked for my sister and me.  Our mom died on the 10th, and our dad would have been 88 on the 17th.  Siggie died last year on the 28th.  So the shoulder thing and my lack of being able to run added to the general gloom.  That's enough of the moping though.  Slowly I am getting better.  Still have the sling and have to sleep in the basement in the recliner.  Yeah, I can't run but can ride the stationary bike and get some exercise to keep my once perfect ass from spreading from too much sitting.  I can walk the dogs with one arm.  Lot's of people, friends and family, care about me and I am grateful to h

It was 15 degrees this am so I put off my run till about 930 when it was at least 20 degrees.  The little dogs were not happy to be left home. If you look closely you can see the little dogs in the window I started out thinking that I was going to just do a short run - 5 miles maybe.  I know five miles is a respectable distance and I don't mean to brag.  It's just that when one is training for a half marathon, 5 miles is a shorter distance.  The older I get the more I appreciate even a two mile run....I am just happy to be out there and I don't care about how far or how fast.  On this day it was just me and the iPod.   I put it on "shuffle" and it played so many good songs that I kept telling myself that I would just keep going until I heard a song I did not like so much and then I would turn around.  I started out with an old tune by Melanie "Look what they done to my song, ma".  Reminded me of my sister cause we always liked this one.  Then as

As my friend Suzanne and I neared the finish of a 9 mile run in 9 degree weather, we chatted about various things.  For some reason, I remembered how my mom's favorite term of endearment to my dad was "Jesus Christ, Ray".   This phrase has become common in my family and we (lovingly) use it on each other when the situation calls for it. After I got in the house and warmed up with some coffee and added the dregs from the Bailey's bottle, I started thinking of my mom's entrance into heaven.  The first thing she said to my dad was probably, yup, you guessed it - "Jesus Christ Ray".  She probably said this because, as I have been told by the minister who performed both my mom and dad's funeral, you get your best self in Heaven.  So my dad probably looked like this: My mom looked like this but she didn't realize it yet since there are no mirrors in heaven because finally looks become unimportant and we get to see inside each other's soul. 

As I sat in church last Sunday, I looked around me.  Not many people were there since it was the first Sunday after the holidays.  More people come during the Christmas season...and Easter, and other traditional holidays but then slack off and stay home and drink coffee and read the newspaper. I have been there.  That's okay though cause going to church every Sunday as we all know,  (and as Garrison Keillor said) "won't make you a Christian, any more than sleeping in your garage will make you a car". I felt some sadness as I looked around at the empty places where some of my old friends used to sit.  In the years that I have been going to this church, I have met and befriended many elderly people, who, it seems have been plucked out of their pews, one by one - plucked out of this life and placed somewhere else.  And let's face it - whether we go to church or not, we don't exactly know for sure where they go. No one has come back to tell us unless you count m