02:54 - 12.06.07
talk, talk, talk
The dream I recall from last night felt like fun, dear diary. It was a team event, but the challenge was a treasure hunt in a real English style maze. Box hedges with unique little "rooms" built into the structure. When one entered a "room" one was transported to a real room where one had to find the question and then the answer that was assigned to it. The phone started ringing at some point during the sequence and I woke up before we reached the center of that puzzle. Hmm.
Three calls in a row. Two were from the different placement agencies I have registered with. Both saying that they had almost no placements in this city and that they were sorry they hadn't an assignment for me. The one suggested another agency as a possible alternative. It is on my list for the next round of applications. Sigh. The agency that had sent me off to the one odd interview also added that they had just been informed that that company had hired from within their ranks after all. The agent I had been dealing with sounded quite stressed, but I was actually relieved. I don't want to be in a situation where I am really not welcome. Makes doing one's job much harder. Been there done that. My aunt had said she would check around in her network of non-government organizations to see if there was anything available since that is actually where I would like to work now. Unfortunately charities can't pay wages that allow a single income household to survive even on basic bills - but you never know I guess. It would be really cool if that dream about organizing that conference I dreamt a few nights back was pre-cognitive. Third call was from the hospital where number five son had had his surgery. They couldn't reach him by phone so they were calling me as his emergency contact. The doctor had asked that my son return for a follow-up examination next week. I was guessing they were calling me hoping that I could persuade him to return. I called and left a voicemail for him, since his phone wasn't turned on at that point in time.
Just signed off and the phone rang again. Oi! It was from number one son - round about 11 am. Just touching base and making arrangements for visits this coming weekend. As we were talking, I could hear loud voices talking near the house. After it had gone on for half an hour, I got up to check where the speakers were and what they were up to - there had been a change in the tone of voices that didn't sound that pleasant. It turned out to be a group of teens in the back alley. The one girl had her back to me facing four young males - accent was maybe hispanic. Off to the side, just out of the corner of my eye was another young male sort of directing the discussion, but staying out of sight. The males were all wearing baseball caps pulled low over their faces, light spring jackets, generic runners and khakis. The group seemed to be egging on one of their members to take a dare. They were all focussed on the neighbour's home that is the other half of my duplex. That one where I think they are cooking up some kind of drugs what with their fan and compressor or generator running all night long, as well as the middle of the night vomiting sessions that seem to occur once a week. Anyway they were urging the one young male to try and get as far as he could into that neighbour's back yard. That neighbour has a yappy little dog that they keep on their balcony or out in the yard during the day. Early warning system, I guess. The talk was becoming a little more aggressive as another half hour went by so I decided that either I would have to call the police before any dumb action took place or I would have to make it clear that they were observed - something it seemed they believed wasn't possible. The cats and I took up our positions at the windows and the six of them immediately startled and ran down the alley toward the senior high school; the sound of smashing glass and then of police sirens following not long afterward. Could have been two separate incidents - or not.
After they had been gone for a reasonable amount of time, I went out walking to the grocery store complex to do one of the errands I had promised my oldest son. Still quite an overcast day but warm even when the rain started falling. Shorts and a denim shirt, sandals on foot. Comfortable enough anyway. On the way home I took a trip down that back alley just to see if those young people had done any serious damage. Just about every gate that could be unlocked had been and left wide open. That isn't a normal practice with our neighbours. Generally the entire back alley is like a sealed unit when one walks down it. There were two men working across from each other in their garage/workshops, their power tools screaming across whatever they were working on. They likely wouldn't have noticed anything unless it bonked them on the head. Hmmm.
Walked back in the house just in time to pick up the phone. Number five son calling. He had actually gone into work for the day. He had said he would, but I was hoping that he had thought better of it and just slept in. Nope. He arrived at work at his regular start time, but his boss sent him home right after the lunch hour rush. One of his fellow workers had had his appendix out the "old fashioned" way, so they compared scars. I don't know what it is about males that everything has to be a competition, but whatever. It was obvious that he was feeling rather poorly and was in pain. He said a blood vessel had burst in one eye and wondered what might cause it. Not high blood pressure because his was measured and found to be even a bit on the low side. I offered to call the hospital where he had been seen to ask the outpatient department for information, but he said he wanted his girlfriend to call her friend, the OR nurse, instead. He said he hadn't eaten yet, so that might have been contributing to his discomfort as well. He had taken painkillers and was having trouble speaking clearly too. I offered to go over to stay with him, but he said his girlfriend was already on her way over with food - yoghurt and things easily digested. Hopefully she and her friend the nurse can talk him in to being more sensible about taking care of himself. Sigh.
Finished that phone call and the one friend who was paralyzed about a year ago called. I had emailed her the night before to see if she would be willing to talk to my one daughter-in-law whose mom had the stroke. A lot of the treatment protocols are the same, so I thought that my friend might be the best one to answer some of the questions my daughter-in-law had about her mother's treatment. My friend consented then we got on to our own woes - job hunting and finances. Survival stories traded about how we coped when our children were small and we had to find ways to keep their tummies full on almost no income. We laughed a lot as we recalled all the strategies we had to use to get them to eat some very odd meals. The ones that came from assorted ingredients left on empty shelves that didn't match or that would never find their way into the same dish on any normal person's home cooked menu. Funny how even though we didn't know each other during that period in our lives we still made a lot of the same choices. As I've noted before a lot of the strategies I tried came from adapting information my mom and grandmother told me about how they kept their family fed during the depression. My friend's family came from a nation where poverty was endemic and learned her coping strategies from her female relatives. Hmmm. At least we could find the humour in it - long after though. At the time our concern was for the effect it might have on our children and I don't think either of us laughed much then. Oh well.
My youngest started wrestling with the washing machine as I was signing off from that discussion, so I went to try and help him. The force of the water through the taped part of the hose finally caused the whole repair to dissolve. He was trying to get it fixed for me again. Number four son offered to supply a new hose that was in one piece. I think maybe that will be the next phone call I make. I think that makes almost as many phone calls in one day as I have sometimes had in a month. I'm not used to that much talking. Couldn't get anything else done as a result. I'll try again tomorrow to continue on with my own list of jobs to do. The mouse has stopped working again so computer repair - again - will be first up. Good night dear diary.
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