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Every year supervisor Josh is late doing my annual review for work performance or what I think of as another year of endurance spreading good will and cheer to stranded motorists with "The truck is on the way." OR doom and gloom with "I'm sorry it's going to be another hour." Once in a blue moon the echo of a snicker of delight slips through that solemn pronouncement as we contemplate another person made to settle down and smell the gas fumes of the passing cars instead of the roses I wish they could have heaved at them. It's been years since I've gotten a card in the mail thanking me for the extra care. One time I paved the way for a heart transplant being delivered from Dayton to Columbus and nary a whisper of a blessing was heard of whether the patient lived. I've learned to just think the members just don't know where the Hallmark stores are.

The Countess decides to skip down the page to see if mtpspur is getting to the point sooner or later. She applies the rule of three paragraphs of digression, one meaningful story, and finally a straight answer with a bungled moral to the story. She is my favorite reader--she knows where the weakneses are.

I'm generally happy to get a quarter raise a year and I usually get over 30 cents. Tonya spoiled my preening one year by saying cost of living factors in. My sneer of she's just jealous, one more question never to ask of management starting with the dreaded "Is it true that....?" This will always end in disaster. Take that to the bank. I go back to preening. One critique that always comes up is communication skills. Vanity always kicks in in self defense and the sure fire--they don't listen!!!

In fact THIS happened a week ago. My fleet driver Quinton who is rented out to us by Sandy's towing as an official fleet driver is scheduled to get off at 7 pm. At 5:50 pm I send him a call directing him to tow from Dayton to Springfield via his Nextel where he can read the information. I even ask him if he can handle this or not. THAT should have been a red flag to him. He quickly reads the call part of which says his destination is --- Dayton rd, Springfield OH. BUT he thinks its the Dayton Rd in Riverside OH off Springfield st. At 6:30 pm when I expect he's halfway to Springfield OH I get this plaintive cry of I can't find this adress. I dig out the very hard to read street map and babble cross streets that are confusing him more until he mentions Riverside.

"What are you doing down there?" Privately wondering if he was taking the scenic route to get on I-675.

"Well I'm on Springfield street, where's Dayton Drive?"

To be fair he is a very young driver. But the grizzley rumbles why do you think I asked you if you could do the call or not--I expected at worst to keep him over maybe 15 minutes but now it would be an hour for him to get back and put the truck away. He did not read the call carefully to see Springfield was properly stated as the city destination. See--listening. As I often told my kids--"There's a reason why I say whatever." Their's to inquire and learn. And yes the ungrateful guttersnipes have all admitted Mom and Dad may know something about something--just a little.

Now Grace86 is giggling, Andave is giving me way too much credit for humor and KizPaws is still sweet. Kathycf suspects brain damage more and more.
Logos still won't PM. Admin told her not to feed the bear it just encourages him. But she wants to.

T - h - e P O I N T already.

Unbeknownst to this rambling babbler two or three of you have not realized that the cancer is VERY operable and considered to be almost cured already. To hear the doctor tell it. He prefers to cut it out layer by layer--he expects at least three trips to the lab and they'll "map" it out. I keep visualizing push pins in my skull to make up a diarama of the Hawaiian Islands.

The doctor even said this won't kill me any time soon and he expects me to be around a few more years. In many ways I feel blessed of God. My friend Mary Ann probably has about six months to go and I'm just two days of a headache in my future ahead. A wee bit of survivor guilt I suppose.

Now for a stupid confession. I had sent a PM to the Countess expressing the thought that since my brush with my real mortality the morbid deathwish and suicidal contemplations (started with my Mother's trials and tribulations) that I have lived so long with that they have become second nature seem to be gone. I often forget that a just and holy God is also a loving God and I feel closer to Him then in many a long time. My mood is different now--it's like I finally feel free to enjoy being alive instead of guilty for being alive. This doesn't mean I won't get moody but I no longer look for God's hammer to strike for that one last sin. His patience is better then my finite statute of limitations.

SO by His grace and I should have thanked Him last blog the cancer is a very mild one believed to be NOT spreading and soon to be dealt with. But first the blood pressure. Whole 'nother animal but I expect that to work out as well.

Apologies to all for not making it clearer. Now if Neo can get up to speed I'll feel even better. And please let's keep a prayer up for Pendragon a true man of God and one of the most humble men I've ever known.