run on sentences

On Christmas Eve, as I run by Christmas tree lots, I feel sorry for the scrawny trees not chosen to sit in someones living room or great room, slowly dying, decorated with ornaments that mean something to the people who carefully place them on the branches. I want to buy all those scrawny trees, just like I want to take all the homeless dogs home and how I wanted my kids to play with the unpopular kids. In other words, I feel sorry for the underdog. And I feel sorry for every person who is alone on Christmas with no one to visit them. Christmas isn't always a happy time as one gets older. It should be because we have so much. But sometimes it is about what we have lost and the people that are no longer with us. Sometimes it is too filled with the memories of what it used to be before it got so commercial and before it was bad to say Merry Christmas instead of happy holidays. The older one gets the more it is about saying hello and then goodbye to family members who come to share th...

Last night the weather man, whose hair is way too foofy for my tastes (I have a habit of never trusting a guy who wears more product in his hair than I do) predicted that Eastern and Southern Utah would be hit with a big snow storm. I think he rated it a significant storm on his scale of snow storms. He said that the rest of the state including the Salt Lake Valley, would have not much to speak of. When I woke up this morning, the "not much to speak of" turned out to be enough snow to cover our driveway, neighborhood streets and fill the back yard. By late afternoon, it amounted to 9 inches. Perfect weather for Jack and I and my friend Craig, who loves running in the snow, to go for a nice run at 8 am. On days like this, the snow makes it so quiet and beautiful. It really looks like an old fashion Christmas with all of the snow sticking to the trees. My mom calls the big flakes "Christmas flakes". The few other runners that we saw greeted us triumphantly as if to sa...

Last Saturday night, we went to the VFW club to have a drink after dinner. The crowd consisted of me, Bruce, the bartender, and the manager. It was too early for the younger crowd, and many of the older crowd who used to populate the place are now dead. A young guy accompanied by an older one came in - both looking like maybe they had stopped a few places before showing up there. The bartender checked the ID of the young man and seemed to know the older one - I think his name was John. "What are you drinking she said?" "How about a Hot Damn?" John asked. The young man said his name was Gabe "Gabriel Andrew after my grandfather". He was quiet and the bartender gave him a coke while he made up his mind on what else he might want to drink. I think she could sense that he had already had enough and another drink was not what he needed. "He just got back from Iraq" the older guy, John, explained. "He was in the Marines". "Shut up Bro, I...

Today I am no longer "almost 54" - I am there, but not yet at another race category. It is this day of my birth which made me think of the other birthdays I remember. My first memory was when I turned 9 years old and it was my "Golden Birthday" - meaning that I was 9 on November 9Th. My mom got me a birthstone ring which I cherished and wore through three years of college until it was swiped by a roommate or accidentally washed down the kitchen drain with my Aunt Margie's class ring that my uncle gave me when she died. Aunt Margie (really my mom's aunt) died at 53 of an abdominal aneurysm. On my ninth birthday my mom made ham salad sandwiches, which to this day, I love. It was a beautiful day - unusual for November in the UP and we sat outside at the picnic table and ate lunch. My friend Darlene came over and we were using an old lawnmower to ride down a hill. Darlene fell and broke her leg. We didn't know it at the time. I did what any future nurse woul...

On many weekday mornings, I set the clock alarm for 5 am so I can run before work. When NPR starts giving me the usual morning bad news (I sure do miss Bob Edwards), I reset the alarm for about ten more minutes. It is hard to leave the warmth of the spouse next to me, who is still hopefully involved in some good dream. If my friend Becky is coming to run with me, I usually get up after the radio starts a second time. I go into the bathroom to dress and Jack the dog anxiously waits to see what it will be....if he hears the water in the shower, he knows there will be no run that day, and he will go back to bed. I shiver in the cold bathroom because the heat isn't set to go on until 6 am. When I am done pulling my tights on and wrestling with the running bra and long sleeve shirt, I open the bathroom door and Jack is laying there with his front paws crossed and pointed to a crack in the door as if he is doing some sort of trephination. I get a tail thump when he sees me dressed to go....

Twenty Six years ago I was feeling the twinges of labor pains for the second time. My mother was visiting and it was a beautiful fall day. We had gone out for pie and coffee and I was "heavy with child". Billy was due on October 16th and was way past his time. My mom suggested Castor oil - a remedy that worked for many women in her day. So we went home and I choked down a tablespoon or two of this vile stuff that had the consistency of snot, just to satisfy her. Sure enough, later that night I felt twinges of labor pain interspersed with the inevitable diarrhea. I waited them out because Bruce said he had some homework to finish - I don't believe he believed that I was in labor but as it turned out, we had plenty of time. Finally we went into the hospital early in the AM of November 2nd and my mom got up and sat and knitted all night while she waited word of William Raymond. We were going to name him Nicholas Michael but she somehow got it into her head that he should be ...

Yesterday was a beautiful fall day as I ran to my friend Bob's house. The leaves were jumping off the trees and it was a warm 50 something (just like me). The smell of fall reminded me of being a little girl, playing in piles of leaves and making leaf houses in the school yard. A year ago at this time, my friends and I were basking in the satisfaction of having finished the St. George marathon and qualifying for Boston....Me, Bob and another friend, Tom. Our friend and running buddy, Paula had qualified at another marathon, so she was going to run Boston with us too. I thought about all of this as I ran to Bob's house. Last year at this time, he would have met me at my house to do our usual Saturday run. Shortly after the St. George marathon, Bob got diagnosed with ALS or Lou Gehrig's disease. The disease has been relentless, taking away first the use of his hands, muffling and then slurring his voice and making every breath a struggle. In the beginning, it was little thing...

My mom is 79 today and doing well. She is fragile though. I call her twice every day, the first time on my way to work. I know I shouldn't drive and talk but it is comforting to hear her voice saying "Hi Donna Raye". We talk about the weather, what Jan Tucker is saying on her local radio, and whether my brother and his girlfriend are fighting. She wonders if they will take her to breakfast and if my sister will take her to the Casino the next weekend. I see her sitting in her chair, looking small and childlike, with her books stacked up. old lottery tickets on the table, and at least, no overflowing ashtray like there used to be. Today I did not go to work, so I call her after my run with Jack and sing "Happy Birthday". I got her some Croc shoes which she wanted when she saw a nurse at her doctor's office wearing them. I also sent her 25 dollars for her next casino trip. I am sad not to be there and that she will be alone all day except for my brother who wi...

I am not going to go into detail about the title...but it is catchy so I had to use it. I always come up with great titles for books, stories and essays but sometimes that is as far as I get Sometimes the title says it all. I started thinking of the different ways we use the term "ass". In my youth, wimps were called candy asses. Toilet paper was (and still is to my mom and Barbara Jean my sister) ass wipe. Of course, there were smart assess, dumb asses, and the term "your ass will be grass (not meant in the smoking pot sense, I don't think)". We play grab ass, we haul ass and kick some ass. Some people are hauled by asses (as in donkeys) and have made asses of themselves. Some are just plain asses without even trying. My grandma, when she got old and bold would want to tell people "shove it up your ass and if it doesn't fit, fold it". Then there's the insult of "fat ass". Do these pants make my ass look big? Who ever would give the h...

Yesterday my day was made more "silly and happy" as Tina seamonster says, by a envelope she sent to me containing some cool things. I have never met Tina, but my daughter who has enjoyed reading her blog ( http://www.ilikeseamonsters.com/ ), sent her a copy of my previous post on zombies and vampires. Tina seamonster might be the first person to read any of my posts outside my family, and my sweet daughter wanted to get my blog "out there". Tina seamonster sent me some great magnets, some cards, and a pin that says "sometimes I worry about zombies"(which to be honest, I sometimes do, especially when a hot flash wakes me up at 3:30 am, a time of night where everything bad is magnified several times and I think we would be most vulnerable to bad zombies). Tina's zombies looked more lost, sad and almost cute than actually mean so I think they are benevolent zombies. Maybe zombies are like people who are bewildered by the bad stuff that happens in the wor...

Today I woke up with two drops of blood on my chin. I observed this strange thing when I was in the bathroom at 5:30 am getting ready to go running. Two tiny drops of blood, not even dripping, on the right side of my chin. It looked like a bug bite but more like a vampire bite. I probably turned my head just in time to avoid having my neck bitten and my blood drained by that vampire, who instead only got chin blood. The blood did not seem to want to wipe off either - not with soap and not with spit. So I chose to ignore it and run off with Jack who could have given a damn about all of this. I had on two shirts and a jacket because the day before it was only 32 degrees and I was cold and not prepared. It happened to be 52 degrees outside so I was hot. As I ran along, listening to my IPOD playing the "Boys in the hood are always hard, don't talk that trash or they'll pull your card" song. I turned to let Jack pee and I was singing along to the part about slappi...

My friend Vic was not only optimistic but also timely. He died exactly 10 days after we signed the will and drank the scotch. His dying was as graceful and dignified as his living. I will miss him but am forever glad to have taken the time to listen to his stories. I spoke at his funeral - the comments are below. My friend, Victor, was born on St. Patrick’s Day, 1908. During that year, paper cups were invented, Ford came out with the first Model T and cellophane was invented. The Gideon bible company was started and Theodore Roosevelt was the 26th president. Vic’s long life spanned many other events. He was a young man when the TV was invented and the first Olympics took place in Switzerland in 1924. He probably witnessed the first talkie movie The Jazz singer, staring Al Jolson. Vic also lived through prohibition, the great depression and two world wars and 17 more US presidents. Through much of this, he played Jazz on his trumpet in various bands around the Salt lake area. Enid, his ...

I have a new definition of optimism. It is waiting till you are 99 years old before you write a will. My neighbor Vic (he is 99) and his wife recently had Bruce and I witness their signature on their will. After we signed all of the various places presented to us by the lawyer who treated Vic like he is a dottering old fool, (he is old but far from dottering ), we toasted to a long life (another optimistic wish when you are 99) with a 12 year old bottle of scotch. How many folks get to drink scotch with a 99 year old guy? This was actually my second time. The first time, Vic and I drank straight from the bottle. He had been been going down hill for the past few weeks and did not even get up from his bed for my usual Saturday afternoon visit. As I stood up to leave, I heard him come down the hall with his walker. He peered at me around the corner as he always does. "Shit, Donna, Just Shit!" he said after with much effort, he aimed his bum towards the chair and sat down. He lo...

Today I ran 5 miles in new shoes that felt great. I then went to work wearing clothes that did nothing for my self image. Stuff like that happens sometimes and no matter how much I try to practice techniques discussed in the book The Secret I am not going to attract enough positive energy to make me not wish I had heeded the inner voice that said "don't wear that it makes you look fat". Thus, I attracted negative energy and acted like I looked fat all day! And if the laws of attraction are correct I possibly gained 10 pounds because I caused my body to excrete so much cortisol that my pants got tighter. And I walked hunched over and scowled all day. Some days are like that. But I did run. And I am about to go lift weights. Take that, laws of attraction! And the secret really is no secret - just written in a nice font with fancy paper and quoting a lot of folks who are vaguely famous - the chicken soup guy for example. If you read this and forward it to 10 of ...

Today, Labor day 2007 I headed out at around 8:30 for a 15 mile run. It's the usual pre-St. George marathon (coming up the first weekend in October and my 13th running of it and about my 30th marathon) panic when I realize I haven't put in any long runs or at least not enough of them. I don't know if I can count last weekend's Hood to Coast even though that was 15 miles in three separate legs. That relay run deserves an entry of its own and I better get to it before I forget how great it was. Oh and there's another experience that I had a few weeks ago drinking Chevas Regal from the bottle with my 99 year old neighbor - I should write about that too. I need to be more disciplined. Anyway, I headed out with the beginning of a run optimism, my ipod playing songs that my son loaded on for me. Most of them I really like. Most of the time though I don't like running with my Ipod because it keeps me from thinking deep thoughts. But today I needed it I thought...

If I were a really good blogger, I would have faithfully placed an entry in here every day while Bruce and I were in Michigan and Wisconsin. I would have mentioned staying in a motel in York Nebraska and drinking my first of many Leinenkugel beers of the trip (a Wisconsin favorite), and maybe mentioned how boring it was driving across Nebraska and how I felt at home once we got to Minnesota. But a lack of wireless Internet connection in my mom's small town and maybe a lack of motivation kept me from revealing all of the details, so here are some of the highlights for anyone who cares to see what it is like to spend a week in the wilds of northern Michigan and another week somewhere in mid Wisconsin. Michigan was our first stop. We slept on the most uncomfortable hide-a-bed, that was a hand me down from my Dad's sister Helen. Why do they always have a bar right across your back? We went to the casino and I won nothing but my mom had fun. I had my traditional bloody Mary that is ...

Well, I was unable to run for a week because of a sore calf muscle. The past week when I could not go out at 6 am and run with Jack the dog made today's run even more enjoyable and made my work day better. It was the usual 5 mile run through familiar neighborhoods but I felt so lucky to have just a nagging stiff calf instead of the feeling of someone sticking a knife into it. It was also the usual Monday work day but it was made better because I ran before getting there. I got this injury just because I had to show off. I am not so good at running up hills but I am fabulous going down them at breakneck speeds (nearing 7.5 minute miles for God's sake, at my age). My friends Tom and Craig and I were doing our usual run up Millcreek canyon before they open it to cars. Going up is pretty much torture and makes one question the entire running thing. It is 4.5 miles up - quiet, beautiful and the air smells so good it is intoxicatin (I tried to think of a description that wasn...

For the first time, I am without a dad on father's day. My dad died last August, and I miss him. So I join the many people who have no father to celebrate father's day with. I feel lucky though, to have had this father, through all the good and bad, for 81 years. Happy Father's day, dad. I love you. The Eyes of My Father I looked into the mirror and saw The eyes of my father staring back I suddenly saw all the things he saw The happiness and sadness of my growing And going. I saw the times we went out into the woods He with his lunch pail, And I with my orange pop Happily sliding down the fallen trees, Wet and stripped of their bark Sometimes on Sundays we would all go the farm I was “just a girl” and wasn’t allowed to drive A tractor. But, I could sing a Finnish song and earn a dime. It was about a pig being slaughtered in a sauna Maybe that song was the reason I became A vegetarian in college. Soon I became too grown up and too busy For the trips to the woods My father ...

My friend Bob showed up today for our run barefooted and wearing some soccer shorts that must have belonged to one of his kids. It wasn't that he was in a hurry. He wasn't late meeting us at Dan's Foods where he, Tom and I agreed to meet. It was because no one in his family was awake to help him pull on his usual running shorts and get his socks and shoes on. Bob has ALS or Lou Gehrig's disease. This disease is a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and the spinal cord. Motor neurons reach from the brain to the spinal cord and from the spinal cord to the muscles throughout the body. The progressive degeneration of the motor neurons in ALS eventually lead to their death. When the motor neurons die, the brain can no longer control muscle movement. Bob can't use his hands very well any more and has lost almost all of his upper body strength. Sadly in some ways, the mind is not affected and people with this disease are aware of how...

If you are one of the wonderful nurses who attended my lecture in Pittsburgh on writing for publication, welcome to my blog. You are the first group I have "put myself out there" for so feel free to comment. Let me say how much I enjoyed talking with you and I hope you will all publish something - nursing related or not. I know each of you have experiences in your job or experiences that are unique to your family - like the ones I have written about here. We are all connected and all alike in so many ways. Thanks for being such an attentive audience and for inviting me to speak. Someday you will see my book titled "Dirty Bathroom Dreams". I wish you all the best.

On Easter Sunday when I got up to get ready to run with Sid, I let Jack the dog out to pee as I usually do. He came back in wet, and I almost decided to call Sid and cancel. I knew though, that he would be waiting for me. I thought about a poem by Robert Herrick that my sister likes and my daughter says is about sex. She would know, being an English major. The title is To virgins to make much of time, so she might be right . As much as I like poetry, I am not very good at interpreting what the author is trying to say. I think poetry is like the Bible - it can be interpreted differently depending on what you are looking for. Here's the first few lines of the sex poem: Gather ye Rosebuds while ye may Old time is still a flyin And this same flower that blooms today Tomorrow will be dyin After my coffee, Jack and I went out into the rain and into that great smell of spring and newness and I was immediately glad I did not call and cancel our run. As I ran towards Sid's house, I tho...

My sister Barbara Jean has a long list of people she says a prayer for every night. She has a superstition about her list too. She never talks about praying - just "putting in a good word" for people who might need it. This term came from my dad who always asked us to "put in a good word" for him. Barb has people on her "good word list" who have long been dead....like grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and even many pets that we had as kids and that she had as an adult. She even puts folks on the list that she reads about in newspapers or who may just be "locals" that she doesn't know but figures they could use some help. I once asked her how she ever gets to sleep with all those folks to remember. She says she just thinks of them but does not pray out loud. She has considered just asking the good Lord to refer to the previous night's list, and only list out the new additions. Once you are lucky enough to be on her list, you never get...

When I ran last Sunday with Sid, I had a feeling that my dad was running with us. The air after a warm rain smelled unusually damp and woody like when I was a kid and would go to the woods to peel pulp with my dad. He died about 5 months ago and I haven’t had many dreams about him or really felt his presence much before. He has never gone running with me and unless he got his amputated leg back in the afterlife, I don’t think it would be something he would come back here to do. But he was there and I mentally told him to go away. I love him and miss him a lot, but I am worried he is coming to convince my mom to join him. She always pretty much did what he wanted. Earlier that week, my mom had a small stroke that seemed to only affect her speech. When I talk to her now, I feel as though she is being drawn in another direction. She is distant and her affect is flat. My dad never could fend for himself so I suppose he finds it difficult to live without her in the afterlife, even though th...

My sister Barbara Jean recently learned how to do text messaging. I receive several from her each day. I also talk to her at least twice a day. She always sends me a "good night, i luv u" message. B. Jean, as I call her, lives about 1200 miles away in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where we grew up. She is 5 years older than me and we are very close. I cannot imagine my life without her. She cannot comprehend families who don't talk to or seem to care about each other. A few weeks ago when I spoke to her, she related a conversation she had with her dying neighbor's sister. The sister commented "maybe it would be better if she would just die while we are here". Then she went on to discuss her own aches and pains and how she needed to get back home and it would be better to not have to come back for a funeral. Barb wondered how this woman could talk about her own sister this way. I could tell that she was still puzzling over this when I received a text messag...