Learning Something New Every Day

I've often wondered about parrots being used as service animals; now my questions are answered! I'm going to send this to my friend who runs PEAC, too.

http://aunaturalbirdnotes.blogspot.com/2008/08/of-pampered-parrot-rescue-and-parrot.html

Arrival in Vermont

Second day at Vermont College of Fine Arts in Montpelier, and it's cold! Here I packed nothing but tee-shirts and shorts and insisted on a fan in my room (dorms are not air conditioned) because it was supposed to be hot, and it's been raining and cold.

Not too much has changed in the 19 years I've been gone. Same beautiful town, dorms are in Dewey Hall instead of Noble, and the food is infinitely better.

Baron Wormser will, I think, turn out to be a good instructor. He said last night we weren't going to follow the typical Iowa model but would be using a more Socratic method, and that another classmate would read our poems out loud -- we wouldn't be reading our own work. I think these are excellent ideas and I'm looking forward to it.

Called L last night -- she got into the house okay and said she stayed about an hour. She said Charli bit her and Nicholas (probably) bit her. I apologized as if they were my children and hadn't been raised to be polite. Lord. She kindly reminded me that she has cockatiels and works as a vet tech and knows perfectly well that birds bite strangers -- that I needn't apologize. She's birdsat for me before, so she isn't exactly a stranger, but I'm sure they also remember her from the vet's.

I'm planning to sneak off after lunch, get a cab, and go downtown. They're not serving wine at the evening readings like they used to, and I could use a drink after a full day of this stuff, which means going to the state-operated liquor store. I'll miss a couple of lectures, but they're ones I'm not interested in anyway.

Wretched Wednesday

What a crappy day at work today. But I did not get up and quit, and believe me I came close.

I'm mostly packed and ready to go -- just a few last-minute things tomorrow. And of course I must spend a lot of time scritching birds tomorrow night . . . enough to last a week.

L will be birdsitting and I know they'll get lots of attention, but still . . . .

Back later!

Lawns

My mother bought an electronic lawn mower (Neuton) several years ago, then gave it to me. I used it a few times and loved it, but my back yard is all uphill. Really. You can't push the mower up because of the angle and you can't let the mower go down because of the angle and you can't mow sideways because the mower turns over.

So I hire a cute young guy from the neighborhood to do a half-ass job of keeping my lawn mowed for $20.00 -- just enough to keep the neighbors from complaining.

This weekend mother decided she wanted the mower back for the summer, so I easily found the mower in the storage shed. But I couldn't find the two batteries, key, and recharger that went with the mower. Anywhere. I turned the house upside down, scoured the storage shed and the little back building. Even checked the trunk of my car. Could not find them.

Mother took the news well, considering there was no point in having the mower without the batteries. I offered to give her money so she could buy a new battery but she refused. I told her to look around, that her fresh eyes might see them better than mine.

We went out to the storage shed and there -- beneath the boxed Christmas tree -- was a box marked "Neuton," containing two batteries, key, and recharger. I'd forgotten that I put everything in a box and had been looking for the separate batteries.

WHEW!!!

We loaded everything into her little whore red sports car (yes, that's the color), then went inside to cool off. She began talking about how she loves true crime and court TV on cable, then started talking about some missing child named Kelly who had a psychotic liar for a mother and a suspicious grandmother.

I reminded her that I don't have cable (I refuse to pay for more TV). She said that was good because there were things on cable I shouldn't see. Now I'm 56 years old and I've seen just about everything and lived through it. I thought she was talking about sex, but no. She said, "You're too easily swayed by all those science programs."

Yes, dear readers. I'm too easily persuaded by logic and evidence. I had no idea I needed to be shielded from science.

For those who don't know my mother, this is her religious fundamentalism showing. She believes and is "easily swayed" by everything in the King James bible, but science is a different matter.

sigh . . .

Otherwise, a so-so weekend. Had a lot of quality time with certain parrots who live in my house, had M (the young college woman) over to clean said house Saturday morning, made the obligatory trip to Wal-Mart, and began packing for Vermont.

Bad Behavior

Miserably hot and humid today. Just those words don't convey what it's like to be inside, to open the door, and have the heat hit you like an open hand. Or how breathing is an odd sensation because of the hot air going into your lungs. Plus the humidity that brings out the sweat the moment you're outside.

Thank god for air conditioning.

There's a new person next door now; a big middle-aged white woman sitting on the deck and smoking a cigarette. She's a new one. Maybe she's a babysitter.

I behaved very badly this week. I had to go to a clinic within a series of clinics for a procedure. Good doctors but otherwise the place is a nightmare. My appointment was at 2:30; I got there at 2:28 because, of course, there was no place to park.

I signed in and took a seat. There was no one at the desk and maybe 12 people scattered around the waiting area. At 2:45 something told me I'd better check that someone somewhere knew I was there. The clerk was nice and said I should be waiting in another room, off to the left.

So I trot off to the other office and tell the clerk who I am. A tech came in and the clerk said, "Your three o'clock is here." And the tech took them back.

"Why did the three o'clock people get taken before me?" I asked.

The clerk continued typing. "You weren't here."

"Yes, I was," I protested. "At two thirty. Right out there." I pointed to the waiting area.

"Did you register, ma'am?"

"Yes, I signed in." I'm still calm and willing to be polite but I'm not happy that I'll probably have to wait an extra hour because the three o'clock patients got taken before me. I handed her my insurance card.

She kept typing, then took my card and made a copy. "Did you register," she repeated.

Again, I said, "I signed in when I got here at 2:30. No one was at the counter."

"Did you register out in the hall?"

"What?"

"You have to register before we can see you. The desk is outside on the left."

That's when I lost my patience. It was now three o'clock. I held up the papers they'd sent me, telling me what floor and time and so on. "This doesn't say anything about reporting outside! If you want people to go outside first, you have to tell them that. This doesn't say anything about that."

"You still have to register outside," she said. I'm surprised she didn't throw me out.

So I go stomping out of the office, go out in the hall, and see an Information kiosk, staffed with a young woman and an older woman. "Is this where I'm supposed to register?"

I tossed my insurance card on the counter, and the young woman took it. Then I went into my tirade about wasting people's time and if they want patients to report someplace they'd have to tell people. It's not like a state secret. I knew I was acting like an ass, but I was so angry I couldn't stop. The older woman smiled at me, and I curtly told her it wasn't funny and people shouldn't be treated like this. But both women were professional and didn't order me out of town or call security or anything. I could see on her face that I'd really pissed off the younger woman who was inputting the info, though.

Then I stomped back to the smaller waiting room and sat down and irritably picked up a two-year-old magazine.

A young man came in and called my name. "How are you today? We haven't seen you in a couple of years." After realizing what an ass I'd been I made an effort to get my blood pressure down.

"I'm not too happy right now," I told him. I waved the papers at him and went through my spiel about instructions for patients. He nodded kindly and said he understood.

I only "lost" a half hour, so it wasn't as bad as I thought it as going to be. The procedure went well and the staff were great.

I have such a low tolerance for bureaucratic bullshit -- everywhere in this place which is connected to zillions of other medical offices we have to fill out the same forms over and over, make the same copies of insurance cards, fill out the same damn histories, waiting times are usually in the hours (this clinic is the exception), and you're shuffled around like cattle. It just enrages me at all the money that flows through that place and how administration continually talks about patient satisfaction and quality care, and then treats people like an inconvenience. They treat people as badly as airlines treat passengers.

Normally I am nice to people in service areas; I know they don't make the big bucks and the systems that don't work aren't their fault.

Anyway, I feel bad about my outburst. I've got a meeting near that clinic Monday, so I think I need to stop by and apologize.