Super Moon and Desert Addiction

So.....did you see the Super Moon last night or early this morning?  I did.  Last night just for fun and very early this morning as I was out for my walk.

Glorious.

I admit I miss the pine trees, and the green that comes with cloudy days and rainy nights, but I am now a desert addict.  Someone once told me when I moved to Arizona decades ago and was melting into a weak noodle, that I would become addicted, so not to worry about my early reaction.
"Drink water, eat salt, be happy."

The southwest desert is an expanse I have grown to love.

Turns out that sunshine really is addicting.

So is moonlight.

My teenage grandson was visiting, and he was in a reflective mood.  "Grandma, you know what is  strange when you think about it?  How puny ants are compared to us.
....And how puny we are compared to the earth.
    .....And how puny the earth is compared to the sun.
         .....And how puny the sun is compared to the universe."

Let's not forget how puny an atom is. Yet split it, and BOOM what energy!

Let's hear it for puny!!

Shine on ME,  desert moon!  Shine on me.

Shine on us.

Loving talking with my grandson
Under the desert moon,
Happy you visited my blog.  Thanks.
Riverwatch

How Valuable?

How Valuable?

Four decades of hospital work as an RN  (to include a probable total of one year dreaming about hospital work after I retired) and I have this testimony of physicians and nurses:

      I never met any doc who did not earn every dollar he or she was paid,

      I never met any nurse who was paid  as much as she or he was worth.


Riverwatch, RN



Do you remember in the 70's when Hillary Clinton came to Utah and announced that the most expensive waste in health care was .......RN's.   !!!!!   the price of RN's .
Do you remember that?
I do.
Because the Big Nurse Guru at the Health System hospitals where I worked came to our hospital around that same time to meet with us nursing leaders to advise us she wanted a written submission from each of us on what RN's in our hospital do "that any trained monkey couldn't do".

I never submitted mine.

I didn't even advise Ms Guru that there was something I could do that a trained monkey couldn't do:  I COULD WRITE ABOUT HER... AND HILLARY'S... SUBSTANDARD ASSESSMENT SKILLS AT A LATER DATE!

       I have written!
       I am vindicated!

Of course Hillary will never need our services.  She and all the other government guru's have tax-payer paid insurance coverage for a lifetime that would knock your eyes out!  
She will have RN's and Doc's galore to take care of her!
Why do we let them get away with it?
We do have power.  

We have the power of shunning.

Or we can sit back as old people , fully aware that crap rolls down hill......
and as the young people know, we all live downstream.
It is pretty much a waiting game.......unless you serve your country in Benghazi.

Remembering Mr. Rogers

If only you could sense how important you are to the lives of those 

you meet, how important you can be to people you may never even

 dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every 

meeting with another person.

"Mr. Rogers"

being grateful for others,

Riverwatch

When Adventure's Lost Its Meaning

When Adventure's Lost Its Meaning

Keeping in touch with the youth, I found my granddaughter's copy of the lyrics to a song she loves.  

I do not know the name of the song...

A fellow blogger has commented that the author is Marta Keen Thompson. 

I know beauty when I read it.

It's odd to me that these lyrics appeal to both an 11 year old, and an old woman.  

To me these lyrics bespeak the homeward journey at the end of life.  

Perhaps to my little granddaughter these lyrics bespeak a secret heartthrob love, far away.

But maybe, just maybe, we all  have, in moments of deep sorrow or even deep reflection, been longing for "the homeward return, in time" ever since we arrived. Or maybe even on a particularly beautiful autumn day.

*************************

"In the quiet misty morning, when the moon has gone to 

bed,

When the sparrows stop their singing and the sky is clear 

and red,

When the summer's ceased its gleaming, when the corn is

 past its prime,

When adventure's lost its meaning, I'll be homeward bound 

in time.

Bind me not to the pasture. Chain me not to the plow.

Set me free to find my calling and I'll return to you somehow.

If you find it's me you're missing, if you're hoping I'll return,

To your thought I'll soon be list'ning; 

in the road I'll stop and turn.

Then the wind will set me racing as my journey nears its 

end,

And the path I'll be retracing when I'm homeward bound 

again.

Bind me not to the pasture. Chain me not to the plow.

Set me free to find my calling and I'll return to you somehow.

In the quiet misty morning when the moon has gone to bed."

                                        by Marta Keen Thompson

*****************

Feeling the change in the direction of the wind,

Riverwatch