Archive for April, 2007

And How Is Work, You Ask?

John Mayer is STILL waiting for the world to change.  Outlook not so good.  Billy Joel is also still keeping the faith and Phil Colins can still feel it coming in the air. 

There are a lot of Jaquetas running around Middle Tennessee.

Another reminder why I was not meant to be a nurse….nearly choking my poor mother in law whilst trying to give her ice chips.  Poor thing was finally feeling a little better and I almost kill her.

 I have always liked medical stuff.  Maybe that’s why I’m here?

Thoughts on the Tragedy at Virginia Tech

Hazel looked pretty good to us yesterday evening.  I haven’t heard how her night was. 

I was telling her last night about the shooting at Virginia Tech and that the gunman killed himself.  To that, she said this, which I thought was pretty powerful:

“All that I’m doing to try to live and why somebody would try to kill themselves or somebody else…I don’t understand.”

That pretty much sums up how I feel about the whole thing.

My new co worker, Dave, attended Virginia Tech.  He had a class in that building.  I guess we’ll all have some degree of separation from this horrible tragedy. 

Even So…

I have an enormous zit.  It has its own zip code. 

I have hives.  Nerves maybe.

We owe the IRS money. 

Hazel had another rough night.

My entry in my Utmost For His Highest today says

“Never allow a feeling that was awakened in you on the mountaintop to evaporate.”  I love that.  Everybody’s ok, even with zits.

Sunday Update

It is now 4:35 p.m. and I’m just now about to go to bed.  Before, I do, I thought I’d fill y’all in a little on what’s happened overnight….

Hazel had a good day yesterday and in the evening (as things often do) things got nuts.  She had a bit of a temperature around midnight and they were a little concerned.  They did some chest xrays, ekgs and stuff and all that ended up ok. Mr. Smiff came down about 2 a.m. to help convince her to let them draw blood.  Amazing with control freaks, even when their mind is not with them, there’s still that part of them that wants to be in control.

Then, this morning, nausea became a problem and she got sick.  Very, very sick.  I have discovered that holding puke pans is not my spiritual gift.  We just about had two of us throwing up.  Thank goodness, my sister in law was gifted with the catching. Long story short.. she had some innerd issues that was affecting her breathing.  After some handy work by the Resident (No Dr. McDreamy’s here, although this one feller was fairly cute) and the wonderful nurses, they got a tube in her to drain some of that problem stuff and she was like a different person. She is MUCH better.  It was pretty scary and oh my gosh, what a helpless feeling.  That thing about the third day after surgery is true. 

Her doctor said it’s a good idea to hold back on visitors for now.  We really had to put our foot down with people and everybody has been great with that.  This woman has so many friends, all who want to come check on her, afraid her feelings will be hurt if they don’t come.   Trust me, her feelings will not be hurt.  We want her to get back to normal ASAP and the more she rests, the quicker that will happen. 

She did have a couple special visitors today…her baby brother Henry and his wife showed up on their way back to North Carolina after driving out west.  I can’t tell you what comfort that was to see them coming down the hall.

While we’re at it, hug a nurse today.  Those are some hard working people who have the ability to keep their heads clear at very difficult moments and every one Hazel has had has had the patience of Job and have taken care of her with loving care and the utmost professionalism. High fives for Belinda, Joan, Malaya, Stella and Valarie.

Anyway, thank you again for your continued thoughts and prayers.  They are being felt, not only by Hazel, but, by the rest of the family.  We knew this was going to be a rough road at the get go.  I will tell you this, my children’s grandmother is made out of some strong stuff. 

Saturday Update

Hazel is doing ok this morning.  She did have some breathing issues during the night.  I’ll be staying with her tonight.  Y’all keep them prayers coming as she recovers. 


For you, O Lord have made me glad for what you have done.  I will sing for joy at the works of your hand.  How great are your works O Lord!        Psalm 92

When they finally wheeled Hazel into her room tonight, my brother in law was going down the list of who all was there (all of us weren’t.  Mr. Smiff was working the Opry) and when my brother in law told her I was there, she wanted me to come up to her face and she said “I’m gonna live.”

She came through her House Cleanin’ (Thank you, Grandefille) with flying colors.  The doctor was very pleased and said she couldn’t see any evidence that the tumor had grown beyond what they removed. 

Needless to say, we’re all very thankful.  Thank all of you who prayed for Hazel today.  She will also be grateful, once she comes off her heavy duty pharmaceuticals.  In fact, she asked the nurse “Do I have good drugs?”  She’s got her a pump even.  Whee! 

She’s got some milestones to reach the next few days and will probably have some pain.  I told her they want her to fart really good cause that will mean her system is getting back to normal.   I also told her, when they first wheeled her in, that it was a girl.  She had a momentary look of complete horror, almost like that could be true.  She’s on the floor where the babies are.  For all she knows, at this point that’s true. 

Thank you all again.

The Thing About Kat and Other Thoughts

The Blogosphere is a’boppin’ this week with different things that I haven’t jumped into.  It’s not cause I’m not interested, but, I don’t have the luxury of blogging all the time now that I’m back in the work world. 

Don Imus-the whole thing is silly.  I’m not a fan of his, (although he is very supportive of country and bluegrass music) but, this political correctness is out of hand.  Al Sharpton running his big, racist mouth about it.  Sick of it.

Ginger, thank you for your sweet post.  I haven’t joined in on who makes me think because every link on my blogroll is bloggers who I enjoy reading and make me think. 

The big thing is Kat Coble’s situation.  It’s well documented out there.  It’s ridiculous and I’m totally behind my friend 100%.  I don’t think she has anything to worry about, really.  I think it shows just how powerful blogging can be or how powerful some people think it is.  

I had an experience some months ago where a subject I wrote about (a celebrity) did not appreciate an observation I had made about them.  She wasn’t threatening about it or anything like that, but, her feelings were hurt.  I felt really, really bad that I had hurt her feelings.  So much so, I couldn’t sleep.  In a way, it made me mad because this is MY blog.  I don’t make one red cent off this thing.  This is an outlet for me.  Truthfully, an outlet that has been a real gift in so many ways for me.  It’s mine. 

At the same time, I don’t want to hurt anybody and hearing from this person made me stop and think before I hit “post.”  So, Kelly, I’m saying here, I am very sorry I hurt you.  Honestly, I was shocked you had read my silly little blog and never dreamed you would.  I’m just a matronly housewife with zero influence on the world.  I just write about what I see out in the world.   Your email has caused me to think twice and thrice about stuff I see regarding the famous. 

I’ve been watching famous people up close and semi-close since before I was born.  From the time I was born, country music folks were talked about at the dinner table.  We imitated certain people and laughed about this or that.  Country music was the family business.  Then, I married into a family that does the same thing.  We talk about country music stuff when we’re together.  It’s just what we do.  On this blog, I am myself.  Famous people are sometimes quirky and funny.  I’ve seen more quirky and funny things about famous people than I can remember.  I love famous people.  I think when you join the Famous People Club, you give up some things that us matronly, normal people have, like being able to go out in public and not worry about how you look or some snarky housewife making a comment about it.  Even so, I am sorry I hurt her.  I’ve sat on this for months not knowing the right way to bring it up and with Kat’s thing, even though it’s different, it seemed the right time.

Down In My Heart To Stay

operation_game_1965_milton-bradley_4545_gallery.jpgAnytime you go into the hospital and/or have to be sent to La La Land while a knife is taken to your person is scary and has some risk.  I myself have gone off to that Special Happy Place three times…when I had a skin graft, a deviated septum straightened out and when I had my wisdom teeth cut out. 

The first time I was facing surgery, I was skeered to death.  I just about had a panic attack at my pre-op appointment.  I was certain I’d be put under and one of those rare cases that mysteriously never woke up and my then little  babies would be left motherless.  

 I near about enjoyed the wisdom teeth extraction and nose surgery because of that wonderful pharmaceutical called Meprogan.  Thems some good drugs right there, boys and girls.  It is no lie that a large part of why I wanted to get that nose surgery done, besides constant sinus infections and miserable membranes, was to get out of work and be able to rest a week.  This was back when I worked for that horrible woman who was hell bent on making your Sista miserable.  I had three young children was working full time and I was tired, by golly.  The surgery was a success and I didn’t have a sinus infection for several years.  I don’t know that I’d do that surgery again though.  I saw them do one of those surgeries on tv.  I also saw them do a skin graft on that old TLC show “The Operation” and I am glad I didn’t see that before my procedure.  Just like taking a cheese grater and slicing skin off.  The worst part of the skin graft is where they harvest the skin from.  That was the most painful part.  Never mind the 150 or so stitches I had in my arm. 

Anyhoo, I say all that to bring up the Mother In Law Smiff’s got a big day tomorrow.  I don’t know how many surgeries she’s had in her life, but, I do know she’s never been opened up like she’s going to be tomorrow.  It’s not a minor thing she’s facing.  Her surgery tomorrow and some pre-existing conditions she has make my skin graft and septum straightening look like wart removal.   Her spirits are high and her humor is good tonight and I’m glad.  I think she’s a little antsy, but, that is allowed and certainly understandable.  Everybody will be relieved when she’s done with the surgery and all recovered.  She’s got lots of neat stuff happening and bidness to tend to.

We are very thankful that she is going to be at the hands of one of the very best gynecologic oncologists in town and getting the very best VIP treatment that anybody could ask for.  She is so blessed to have friends who are making sure she is getting top notch care.  God has tended to every little detail so far and we’re all confident that He’s not going to suddenly go on break anytime tomorrow where she’s concerned or where any of us are concerned.  Having that hope makes facing tomorrow a lot easier for her and the rest of us.  That’s what they mean in that song when they say “I’ve got the peace that passes understanding down in my heart.”  

She (and we) would be so humbled and grateful for any prayers on her behalf.  I’ll let y’all know how things go tomorrow evening.

Which Golden Girl Am I?

A little confession for you tonight…don’t tell…mmmk?

I wore two different shoes to church tonight.  The shoes are alike, but, different colors.  I went to cross my leg and I had a black shoe on one foot and a brown one on the other.  It made me feel really good about myself.

Just hand me a Marlboro, a cup of coffee  and call me Barbara Jean, will ya?


It’s bad people.  The state of radio in Nashville is bad. So bad I have resorted to 91.1.  I couldn’t take hearing John Mayer sing about how he’s waiting for the world to change one more time.  92.9 plays that song no less than 20 times a day, alternating with “Piano Man.” 

 I only listen to 91.1 on Sunday afternoons to hear my good friend Traci Todd and “George The Bluegrass Show.”  It is painfully clear that what I’m hearing on there this morning…I’m too old for.

Send help quickly.

Oh Seeesta…You Got Some ‘Splainin’ To Do

As I sit here in my stately, brick ranch, circa 1975 style abode, Dancing With The Stars on the teevee, the Manchild serenading us with Sunshine of Your Love, I am pondering something and laughing at something else…both having to do with Mr. Smiff.

I’ve told you about Mr. Smiff’s newly grown goatee.  It’s looking good, however, I’m thinking perhaps the Smiffster Mister should perhaps invest in a little Just For Men and consider a Billy Ray type of trim on the ol’ goat’.  (I must clarify here that I have not now, nor ever had any sort of hawts for Mr. Cyrus.  Say what you will about him, but, I think he seems like a nice feller)billyraycyrus1_e.jpg

I love that style of goatee.  I think if Mr. Smiff trimmed his up that way, it would make me giggle less when I wake up at midnight and find him sitting up in bed, with his drugstore glasses on, sawin’ away on the Soduku.  It also would not remind me that I’m married to somebody closer to 50 than 40, even when he talks about “enjoying” the fruit he had earlier today.  He hasn’t yet started watching “Murder She Wrote” reruns on the A & E, but, I expect that any day now.  Hee.

I don’t know if I should tell the funny story.  I better not.  Let’s just say it had to do with unexpected mail and me having some ‘splainin’ to do.  Any aspiring fiction writers want to try to write the story of Sista’s Splainin?

Oh and remind me to take pictures of the Pornographic Potatoes I ran across this evening.  I think I could get as much publicity as the Nun Bun did with these babies.

I See An Angel Peeking Through A Broken Window Pane…


This ole house once knew my children

This ole house once knew my wife

This ole house was home and comfort

As we lived through storms of life

This ole house once rang with laughter

This ole house heard many shouts

Now she trembles in the darkness, when the lightning walks about

Ain’t gonna need this house no longer

Ain’t gonna need this house no more

Ain’t got time to fix the shingles

Ain’t got time to fix the floor

Ain’t got time to oil the windows

Nor to mend the windowpane

Ain’t gonna need this house no longer

I’m getting ready to meet the Saints

Johnny and June have had a much bigger house for a long time.  I’m glad the Gibbs hadn’t moved in yet and that nobody was hurt.  I hope they’ll build something else there.  We still want the Gibbs in Hendersonville.


Here’s Yer Bluegrass Right Here

If you want to hear the best in Bluegrass music and help raise money for Autism, you can go to the Station Inn tonight and tomorrow.

The lineup is as follows:

April 10- Autism Benefit- Ronnie Bowman & Friends, Grascals, Infamous Stringdusters, Chris Jones & The Nightdrivers
Steeldrivers, Roland White Band, 8:00 pm
April 11- Autism Benefit- Larry Cordle, Carl Jackson, Jerry Salley, Larry Cordle & Lonesome Standard Time, Mark Newton Band, Mashville Brigade, Jerry Salley & Breakin’ New Ground, + special surprise guest, 8:00 pm

All that for $20.  What a bargain.

Meanwhile….At The Salt Mine

I’ll be glad when the day comes that I’m no longer “The New Girl.”  From past experience, you start a job and it takes a couple weeks or so to get your bearings.  Everybody is really nice, but, you’re still “New.”  Then, one day, magically, like it happened long ago with my Schishter, something happens and your real retardness is revealed to new co-workers.  Then, everybody takes off the politeness, like you’re a stranger thing and you’re one of them.  That’s how it works. I’ll be glad when that happens here.

On another work-related note….proper elevator protocol says you wait for the person getting off to get off before you get on, correct?

Sista Rants

Of late, it’s not unusual to see kids from the ages of about 7 to about 11 wearing those shoes with the wheels on the bottom of them.  I believe they are called “Heelies.” 

I understand kids in this age group.  I understand them very well.  I understand the Manchild’s need to engage in hardcore dancing.  I understand the Drama Queen’s eye rolls and general “eat shit” attitude she gives me the majority of the time.  I understand #2 taking a piece of wood, drawing a face on it, calling it “Plank” and taking him to the movies with him.  I understand chilluns.  Is there any way I can express how aggravated I get when I see a kid in a store, walking along and then they roll a few inches?  No, I can’t express to you how or why that makes my butt want to chew tobacco.  It just does.  I’ll be glad when that fad goes away.

I know you’re saying “What if #2 wants some Heelies?”  He’ll have to ask Mr. Smiff, aka “I’m Just A Dad Who Cain’t Say No.” 


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.