Hurry Up and Wait

My hubby had to go to the doctor yesterday, and he likes me to drive him. I didn't mind going, but I know the routine. We had gotten the phone call on Wednesday, reminding us of our 11:30 a.m. appointment at SLUCare. Not a problem. Then, the little-girl automated voice on the phone says, "Please arrive 20 minutes early for registration." What? I know this game. Sure enough, we left at 10:45 in order to be there 20 minutes early. They got us through registration in record time, but then they sent us back to Ophthomalogy (Is that spelled correctly? Those of you who know me will believe I sat there 15 minutes memorizing how the word was spelled, and now I've forgotten the little tricks I used to remember it!). Anyway, we sat there a solid hour before they even called him back. I decided to remain in the waiting room. At least they had a current newspaper and some of the magazines were within the two-year date limit I set for reading material. I sat there until my butt was numb and tingly (you know the feeling) before he ever returned. And this wasn't the first time it's happened! Last week - same thing. The doctor we saw last week charges over $700/visit. Now, I don't want you to think that WE pay that. Hubby has Medicare. But I've seen the charges, and I know that's what's charged to SOMEONE. We wondered if, maybe, it would be okay when the doc finally called us in to tell him that the statute of limitation had passed, and now he had to pay us. That sounds reasonable, doesn't it? Then, as if making us wait an hour wasn't enough, at one point during our visit, this doctor said, "Well, you're not here for me, I'm here for you!" Don't make me laugh. What kind of pompous piety is that? If we weren't there, who else would be stupid enough to pay $700/visit. You're right. The waiting room was filled the whole time. Makes me wonder what this world is coming to. Oh well. What do I have to do at home anyway? More laundry?

Laundry Day

Yesterday was laundry day at my house, and, since I had let the ironing go for a couple weeks, I had to iron for several hours to get it all caught up. Yuk! I never did like ironing, don't like ironing, and never will like ironing! I have learned a way to make it tolerable, though. I began a little practice when my children were still at home. As I iron each piece, I think about the person who owns that piece of laundry and say a prayer for them. It makes me think happy, positive thoughts about the people I love, and it sets a better atmosphere for an otherwise less-than-pleasant task. Now that my kids have grown and left home, it's just me and my honey. That hasn't changed my custom. I've found, as we've grown older together, that we're each needing more and more prayer to face the things each day brings us. So - yesterday was laundry day. I went to bed last night feeling that I had accomplished something good, and I had a peaceful heart and mind knowing I had been in touch with the One who holds it all in His able hands. Maybe laundry day isn't so bad after all -- but I still don't like to iron!

Graduation Day

My Sweetie and I 12/07

My fam

Am I REALLY too old for new beginnings?

I've been checking out the blogs of my nieces and nephew, and they're very articulate and imaginative. So - I've been slapped in the face with the above reality. Am I REALLY too old for new beginnings? I'm hoping not. It would be awful to stay in this present place forever. No moving ahead. No growing. Therefore, I'm going to make an attempt at this new media rage. Since I don't have young children, it may not be as cute and giggly as some. And I' m not in a brand new romance, so I certainly won't have any jaw-dropping amorous adventures to report. So, you're taking a chance at even reading this. But you're certainly welcome to drop in from time to time and check me out. It's at least a diversion.