tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37998952011-11-27T18:38:15.997-05:00Oddments from the life of a liberal lesbian in the deep south.Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.comBlogger531100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-91146659580236075382011-07-13T20:24:00.000-04:002011-07-13T20:24:56.638-04:00

When I am completely honest I have to admit that sometimes I have some slightly wicked impulses. The fact that my beloved Max is (among her many charms) slightly gullible can make these impulses well nigh impossible to withstand. Such an event occurred last night..... Max and I were watching a really dumb movie that was nonetheless pretty scary. It was called "The Vanishing" or some such. In the

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-258462755715137222009-04-17T18:40:00.007-04:002009-04-17T18:43:35.588-04:00

Okay, probably everybody's already seen this but me, but I'm putting it here anyway because I like it. A lot.

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-48740933606497111592009-04-17T18:06:00.004-04:002009-04-17T18:39:00.473-04:00

OK, it isn't in the best of taste, but I laughed so hard that Max wanted to know what I was laughing at. And when I told her it was a Jesus joke, she just said she didn't want to see it and left the room. She still hasn't forgiven me for showing her the superhero Jesus doll I found online. She laughed before she could stop herself, then worried she would go to hell for laughing at it. So she

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-38080191593753444352009-04-12T18:45:00.002-04:002009-04-12T19:01:10.206-04:00

Arrghhhh! I guess I shouldn't let it bother me, but it really burns my ass when I am assumed to be a christian. I'm not, I don't want to be, and even if I were in a foxhole I wouldn't be a goddamned christian. I don't go around advertising that I'm not, I live in the south, after all, in the heart of the bible belt, but dammit all, people will just assume things. And they shouldn't.I saw a sweet

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-66730500721154682972009-04-03T06:14:00.004-04:002009-04-03T06:32:33.400-04:00

I work with a doctor who could probably be legitimately described as brilliant. He tends to be a bit blunt, but he is certainly kind and an all-around good man. My own meager intellect sometimes feels like a small candle next to his halogen light. Thus, I was surprised recently when a patient told me he liked seeing me better than the doc. His reason? I explained things to him, he said.I was a

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-30662918202915566512009-01-03T16:53:00.002-05:002009-04-12T19:02:34.626-04:00

I know it's been a million years since I blogged, but I just saw something that screamed to be blogged about. This is just so typical of my beloved homeland in the deep South. I was driving in the country near a small town called Ellabell, and at an intersection where some closed stores and restaurants have created some empty parking lots, there was a truck parked to sell some wares: namely,

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-85557238282539806292007-04-24T08:31:00.000-04:002007-04-24T09:51:37.904-04:00

Tuesday. Back at work. Yesterday Max and I had a whole day to ourselves. I am not sure I can even think yet. But I do ave some great photos and hope you enjoy them. First, here's David at Max's company picnic. He just went out and joined the dancing all by himself, didn't ask anyone, no one urged him to go. He was great.And here's my Max, fetching and carrying for our boys.... Here's a young man

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-72246140427838655292007-04-21T00:52:00.000-04:002007-04-21T01:08:27.168-04:00

It is now Friday. We've been crazy busy, but things are going well. Max is becoming accustomed to providing food for the starving hordes at least hourly, and is gracious about it. Her mother came yesterday and spent the night with us. We took her home today, and on the way home, I noticed that the 6 year old, David, was feeling rather hot. He looked ok though, and we were all pretty tired, so the

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-22466823442145323512007-04-18T19:30:00.000-04:002007-04-18T23:23:18.795-04:00

My lovely girlfriend has been wanting to keep her four nephews (ages 4, 6, 10 and 12) for a week or so. They live about 600 miles away, and she wanted to spend time with them and get to know them a little better. Now let me fill you in on my Miss Max. She has never had children. She did help raise a couple of kids for a while, but overall, she has not much experience with kids. Especially not a

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1152556612345768342006-07-10T14:29:00.000-04:002006-07-10T14:36:52.356-04:00

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1151875172378071742006-07-02T17:00:00.000-04:002006-07-02T17:19:32.436-04:00

I became a grandmother June 24, 2006. Even though my granddaughter is thousands of miles away, I feel an incredible tug of love and connection with her. I long to have her near me, to hold her, to walk her around my home and tell her about the moonflowers, the angel's trumpets, the lantana and all the wonderful flora surrounding us. I want to introduce her to my beloved, to our animal friends, to

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1139185927817897522006-02-05T19:30:00.000-05:002006-02-05T19:32:07.830-05:00

Clothed in darknessshe opened like a flower.I partook.Hours later, I am still drunk.

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1131710733371058172005-11-11T07:02:00.000-05:002005-11-11T07:05:33.383-05:00

OK, here's my fantasy of the day: In very public circumstances, i.e.: well witnessed by many, Pat Robertson is struck by lightning while an unearthly but clearly female voice, perhaps with a distinct African timbre to it, intones: Mind your own business. And he shouldn't die, he should live through it to try to explain it. I'd just like that.

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1131487976124650102005-11-08T17:11:00.000-05:002005-11-08T17:12:56.133-05:00

Anybody ever hear of a knee-baby? I just heard that term for the first time today. I'll post later to explain what it is... Unless my faithful readers already know!

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1131138845186245972005-11-04T16:08:00.000-05:002005-11-04T16:14:05.196-05:00

I saw a 92 year old man this morning. He had fallen on a concrete block, hitting his ribs, and landing on his right hand. I sent him for xrays which came back that his hand and one of his ribs are broken. Of course, no orthopedic doctor will see him today, or tomorrow, or any time before next week, so we splinted his right hand and gave him pain meds. I asked him who was going to take care of him

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1131117691601555972005-11-04T10:18:00.000-05:002005-11-04T10:21:31.613-05:00

Just when you think you've heard it all.....Drug screened a young woman this morning who is unaccountably losing weight at an alarming pace. Her urine was positive for amphetemines, opiates, and barbiturates. She swore to me that she did not do drugs. Her boyfriend does, though, and when he ejaculates in her, that must be how the drugs got in her system.Uh huh.Well, I don't think I'll do the big

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1131067895373612722005-11-03T20:11:00.000-05:002005-11-03T20:31:35.393-05:00

I had a delightful new patient today. He is an 80 year old man, frail, but completely in possession of all his wits and needing only refills on his regular meds. His wife was with him, and they were just charming. It was noted in his chart that he was allergic to morphine. I asked him what happened when he was given morphine. he and his sweet wife both started laughing. It was clear there was a

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1130978873519253502005-11-02T18:55:00.000-05:002005-11-02T19:47:53.533-05:00

Being a nurse practitioner is not just about providing health care. Sometimes it is about learning more about people than I ever really wanted to know. I think the following true story illustrates what I mean pretty well. (with a nod to the friend whose conversation got me thinking about this subject -- smooch!)Naturally, all names and identifying details have been changed in order to comply with

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1130817223562849892005-10-31T22:53:00.000-05:002005-10-31T22:53:43.566-05:00

This is so exactly like my younger son. I remember when I first saw the cartoon in the paper, I cut it out and kept it for a long time, then I lost it. I recently found it somewhere along the way in my web travels, and was delighted to have it in my possession again. (and dammit, I had to stop and LOOK UP possession. It just doesn't look right. But it didn't look right when I misspelled it either

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1130817005490412532005-10-31T22:50:00.000-05:002005-10-31T22:50:05.496-05:00

Liberty and justice for all! Forever! 

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1130816954093367512005-10-31T22:49:00.000-05:002005-10-31T22:49:14.096-05:00

This picture really really really creeps me out.... what about you? 

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1130816877827561592005-10-31T22:47:00.000-05:002005-10-31T22:47:57.830-05:00

I have found that I enjoy blogs with pictures more than the text-only ones, so I will festoon my blog with some web-gleanings... I love this festoon of fruit and flowers... 

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1130816214279313322005-10-31T22:22:00.000-05:002005-10-31T22:36:54.293-05:00

Drugs scare me. Especially drugs that alter our behavior, feelings, and ways of perceiving the world. And I am not talking about hallucinogens. I am talking about everyday ordinary drugs that your mom might take. That I might take. Uh... that I do take.I think I have already touched on the fact that without my antidepressant I am irritable, mean, and difficult for even me to be around. I was on

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1130814140096278742005-10-31T22:01:00.000-05:002005-10-31T22:19:14.366-05:00

The faerie of water. You have a laid back attitude,and take life as it comes. People come to youwhen they want to hear the truth, even if ithurts. You will always be there when someoneneeds you. People sometimes think you have acold heart, that's why sometimes you can alsobe known as the Ice Faerie.What's your inner Faerie?brought to you by Quizilla

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1128397802568145262005-10-03T23:50:00.000-04:002005-10-03T23:50:02.573-04:00

This is a picture of a dear friend of mine when he was a small boy. I love this picture, I grin every time I look at it. And now that I have figured out how to get pics into my blog -- Why the hell not share them? so -- expect to see more pics... :) And, Charlie, ISLY. Write! 

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1128397474048022302005-10-03T23:44:00.000-04:002005-10-03T23:44:34.053-04:00

Isabella Rosellini 

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1128397190149724232005-10-03T23:04:00.000-04:002005-10-03T23:54:50.686-04:00

Oh well. I am currently cooking some of my favorite addictive substance -- boiled peanuts. I have a huge pot on the stove, filling my whole house with the wondrous aroma of the luscious legumes. That is one of the best things about fall in the south -- freshly harvested peanuts. "Green peanuts" as they are called, though they aren't green at all. I am indulging in a bit of pity for any who have

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1125476574525724812005-08-31T04:14:00.000-04:002005-08-31T04:26:02.820-04:00

Wanted to blog a bit, but am awfully tired. Awake because the dog needed to go out. Now she is sleeping blissfully at my side, and I am wide awake. Damn dog. Good thing I love her, else I'd give her to one of those ethnic restaurants reputed to cook those of her kind. .And now back to seeking sweet, elusive sleep.

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1125475956923555232005-08-31T04:12:00.000-04:002005-10-03T23:57:21.586-04:00

aiiii... I was evil last week. That'll teach me to try to stop my antidepressant medication. I really know better. I have done it before and it never works out for me. So, last week before I resumed my medication, I had this patient who was REALLY pissing me off. I honestly don't often get pissed off by patients. I don't. I love my patients, and I try to do my best by them. But this guy... well,

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1118626471578068682005-06-12T21:13:00.000-04:002005-06-12T21:34:31.583-04:00

I have come to the conclusion that if you need health care and can't get it any other way, (i.e., you have no insurance, you have no money, you have no credit cards....) you go to a small town or country doctor. Many people have caught on to this. I don't know quite how... maybe it is word of mouth from their country cousins. All I know is that the small rural practice where I work has recently

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1117949137699870542005-06-05T01:25:00.000-04:002005-06-05T01:25:37.703-04:00

contemplating... 

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1117945491239350562005-06-04T23:41:00.000-04:002005-06-05T00:27:40.526-04:00

'Twas a long time ago; so long I am not sure my memory is fully accurate, but let me try to get the story right...I was desperately in love. I was lonely, bereft, recently abandoned by my ex-husband, and coming to the realization that I was a lesbian. I had had a crush on a woman; a writer with whom I had been acquainted for quite some time. She had moved to Greece and married a Greek man, but I

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1117938368640412822005-06-04T22:26:00.000-04:002005-06-04T22:26:08.643-04:00

Conifera 

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1117844959830963752005-06-03T20:11:00.000-04:002005-06-03T20:32:17.453-04:00

I have to comment on the woman whose dog's feet smelled like fritos. They did indeed. I had NEVER before noticed the aroma of dog feet, but her noticing that interesting aspect of her dog's composition has had me sniffing dog feet ever since. And you know what? They ALL have frito-feet. I just hope this isn't because they tend to step in their urine.Animals are odd creatures. I have found out

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1109698037644807102005-03-01T12:13:00.000-05:002005-03-01T12:27:17.646-05:00

The nun's belly was so smooth and utterly unmarred. No scars, no bruises, nothing but a modest expanse of alabaster skin. I put my hands on her belly, gently at first, lightly scanning the lovely skin to get a sense of it before probing more deeply. I started over on the left side, the unaffected side. I pushed in with my fingertips, causing a slight wince. Releasing the pressure caused more than

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1105208573237152722005-01-08T11:08:00.000-05:002005-01-19T10:50:31.160-05:00

I woke up with an Amazon in my bed this morning. A parrot. My son's. Actually, I think the parrot is mine now. The son is planning to move away soon, and he asked if he could leave Veda with me. I am happy to keep the bird -- Veda and I have bonded. It took a long time, but it happened. Veda is so beautiful, and he talks too. He screams my younger son's name frequently, or sits and mutters all

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1095970819240193222004-09-23T16:15:00.000-04:002004-09-23T16:20:19.240-04:00

Ah, life in small-town Georgia. It has been a rather quiet afternoon, and I noticed that traffic had backed up outside our door. Turns out there was a parade. The high school's homecoming or something... Anyway, since I had no patients, I joined the others on the sidewalk and watched the parade. It lasted all of 4 minutes. :) But I recognized virtually everyone in it, as well as the police

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1092934389344237062004-08-19T12:45:00.000-04:002004-08-19T12:53:09.343-04:00

I am amazed. I saw a patient this morning whom I had last seen about a year ago. He then weighed about 400 pounds and had all the problems that go with that kind of weight: diabetes, hypertension, arthritis. He couldn't walk and got around on an extra-large electric wheelchair. I remember he asked me how he could lose weight. (asked ME, a person carrying around about 80 extra pounds myself. We

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1092252505960811292004-08-11T15:25:00.000-04:002004-08-11T15:28:25.960-04:00

Another pet peeve -- the word "whatever". I cringe when I hear it, it is so overused, cliched and juvenile. It amazes me how many grown people will use this word as if it still had the freshness it possessed in 1972. Used as a sarcastic dismissal, it is enough to convince me totally that the person using it thus is totally lacking in intellect and wit. I think anyone who uses "whatever" in that

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1091564629112504402004-08-03T16:20:00.000-04:002004-08-03T16:23:49.113-04:00

My Bug-eyed dog died last Friday. I am very sad, and miss her desperately. It was baffling, so I had an autopsy done, and she had a congenital weakness in her diaphragm, which suddenly and spontaneously ruptured. She wasn't even 6 months old yet. On the other hand, my old dog Sadie doesn't miss Bug at all.

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1090443092728740342004-07-21T16:34:00.000-04:002005-06-05T12:29:43.066-04:00

Everyone is tragic today. Real tragedy. A woman I have been treating for a panic disorder, who has been doing really well, came in looking utterly frazzled. It has been 2 months since I've seen her. She laughed in an almost demented sort of way and said she's only had one panic attack since I last saw her. It started three days ago when her son and brother (honest to god) were lost at sea. Then

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1090350803386122282004-07-20T14:57:00.000-04:002004-07-20T15:13:23.386-04:00

Everybody is funny today. They are killing me. First a patient called and said she had rhinoceroses. She wanted an antibiotic for it. That would be one honking antibiotic for a rhinoceros, I'm thinking. (I actually have heard patients call rhinosinusitis "rhinoceros" before, but it never fails to crack me up.   Then there was the 8 year old who really didn't want a shot. He doesn't want one now,

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1090171624615419132004-07-18T13:07:00.000-04:002004-07-18T13:27:04.616-04:00

There was a recent letter to the editor in one of my nursing journals from a male nurse. (The thoroughgoing tone of entitlement convinces me that he was also white.) The letter writer was upset because nursing journals generally use the pronoun "she" to refer to nurses as a whole. He felt excluded as a male: after all, about 5% of nurses are male these days, and it is wrong of us as a profession

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1089985585458576812004-07-16T09:28:00.000-04:002004-07-16T09:46:25.460-04:00

Ok, prejudice. I have a name prejudice. There are certain names that seem to have a definite connotation of low acheivement. Like Brandy. Brandy is a name that seems very young and unaccomplished to me. And lo and behold, my beloved white dog's vet turned out to be named Brandy.   Poor Sadie was so sick a while back. She had diarrhea and was vomiting. She finally lay down by the pool with her

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1088878214492283572004-07-03T13:31:00.000-04:002004-07-03T14:10:14.493-04:00

Small southern towns and queers. I am a lesbian nurse practitioner. I work with a gay physician. We practice in a very small, rural, redneck, ill-educated, conservative town. And we are accepted. Of course, we don't have a sign up that says Gay Health Care, nor are we flamingly "out". But neither are we secretive. And it is interesting how we are received. Mostly, our orientation is overlooked,

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1088808179378915372004-07-02T18:05:00.000-04:002004-07-02T18:42:59.376-04:00

I feel a need to talk about the good things about the south -- the things I truly and deeply love. SO -- this being MY blog, I will: Gracious southern manners -- I love politeness, I don't care how fake it may be. I would much prefer that someone who holds ill will toward me treat me politely anyway. I like being called "ma'am". I like when strangers address my Pop as "sir". It is --to me-- the

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1088795917132209742004-07-02T15:15:00.000-04:002004-07-02T15:18:37.133-04:00

This is a rant about a pet peeve. I have in the last hour or so come across about 6 instances of apostrophes being used to append an S to a word to make it PLURAL. Listen, people, apostrophes are for indicating possesives or contractions, but not PLURALS! OK, I am not perfect either, and will allow equal time for others' rants. (others' -- plural AND possesive.)

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1088723599491818532004-07-01T18:23:00.000-04:002004-07-01T19:13:19.490-04:00

The south is very dear to my heart, but there is something very wrong with my beloved homeland. Well, maybe more than one thing, but the thing that is on my mind right now is racism. (And don't think for one minute I am unaware of racism elsewhere, I am just intimately familiar with it HERE.) I was raised with racism. My parents kept it low-key when I was young, though the attitude was there. I

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-1088673171685014182004-07-01T04:45:00.000-04:002004-07-01T05:12:51.686-04:00

Several things have conspired recently to encourage me to post to my blog again. The major one is my dearest friend, Charlie. We live far apart, but he says he sometimes reads my blog to feel close to me. I like that, and feel a little guilty that I haven't blogged in so long. Then contact with an old ex-friend and a visit to her blog made me miss blogging too. She writes amusingly and

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-823448282002-09-30T22:45:00.000-04:002002-09-30T23:07:12.000-04:00

Moving is an activity that will sure unearth memories. In the process of preparing to move, I have been going through stuff trying to throw or give away everything possible before the movers get here. I found a journal of things that happened when I was still married to a male and my boys were 2 and 4 years old. I will simply enter them here verbatim from my notes: Family life just isn't what

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-820397172002-09-24T07:31:00.000-04:002002-09-24T19:42:50.000-04:00

For someone in the health field, I have always had a large antipathy toward healthy habits. I am fully aware that eating right, exercising, and refraining from smoking are far more effective ways of handling nearly all health problems than drugs, but I have never enjoyed doing those things. But lately my favorite ex-wife has bullied me into walking with her and though I hate to admit it, it feels

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-820281542002-09-23T23:50:00.000-04:002002-09-23T23:50:15.560-04:00

I am moving in less than three weeks. I wish it were sooner. I am moving from a deeply rural area to a very small country town. It will be almost as different as moving to a real city in some ways. Water, for instance. For about the last 40 years the water I have consumed at home has come from a well on the land I lived on. Not that I had to draw it up in a bucket or anything, but I have never

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3799895.post-819109182002-09-21T08:17:00.000-04:002002-09-21T08:17:04.196-04:00

A long long time ago, I wanted to save lives, help people, and generally be a hero. I became a nurse. What I found out is that sometimes it isn’t in a person’s best interest to save his/her life; that what I see as “help” is sometimes not at all what a person wants or needs; and that being a hero is vastly overrated. However, I am still a nurse. In fact, I have been back to school enough times

Ursa Majorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08668529222661920258noreply@blogger.com0