Category: Miscellany

PISSED OFF SURGEON CONTEMPLATING MY DEMISE?

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Miscellany

I have worked closely with many physicians during my career in acute health care. They were all highly intelligent. Most enjoyed a large degree of common sense… only a few did not.

Once, when I was just starting out in management, I worked with a hesitant physician. He confounded me when he handed me a patient’s medical record and asked me what I thought was wrong with that particular patient. Of course, I had an opinion, but I responded in the only way legally possible.  I told him that I wouldn’t dare to tell him, a physician, what was wrong with the patient… and referred him to another physician who had an interest in such cases.

Once, when I was in a large, meeting of the various Executives and Administrators, Chiefs of (Medical) Staffs and Senior Support Staff of affiliated hospitals, a surgeon I had worked with for many years and I got a little crossways on an issue, and he came close to yelling at me. We were both reasonable people, and I respected him highly. We quickly resolved our differences. The meeting broke up soon after, and I gathered my stuff to return to my office. The surgeon headed around the huge Board Room table, called my name and asked me to wait up. As he approached, his right hand was extended, headed for my throat. The crazy thought crossed my mind that he might be angry enough to choke me. But I never really thought he would do such. I stayed still… didn’t flinch when his hand circled my throat. Everyone was looking at us.

“You’ve got something in your throat.” Sure enough I could feel his fingers examine something. He smiled and advised me not to worry, that “no one dies of thyroid cancer in this day and age.” Subsequently he performed a partial thyroidectomy on me for a benign adenoma.

OBITUARIES

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Miscellany

I try to read my hometown newspaper at least once a month. More and more, I’m drawn to the OBITUARIES. People whom I knew when I lived in the small town are beginning to die off. I hate to see them go. Most were wonderful people, some were real characters, and their life stories are utterly fascinating.

More and more, I realize just how unaware I was growing up. The OBITUARIES are filling in a lot of gaps that I didn’t know I had. The small town is still educating me.

The life stories of those I knew as students in school are of particular interest, so far mostly those who were older than me. I always felt that my education in that little town was particularly good, and more and more, the obituaries are confirming my opinions. There was little local industry other than farming and ranching and a state university within commuting distance. Many students left after graduation.  Those who stayed lived active full lives, often taking leadership roles in the community, even while making a living. They served their community and their churches well.

Fellow students who left the little town usually moved to bigger cities, both in Texas and across the U.S. Many went on to college: Texas A & M, Sam Houston State College, the University of Texas; Southwest Texas State and other universities both in and out of state. An astonishing number achieved advanced degrees.

Many men served in the military, both those who stayed and those who left. Almost every adult man I knew growing up had served in World War II. Some were bona fide heroes as their tombstones and obituaries attest. Many local men I never knew gave the ultimate sacrifice. Some of the younger men did not survive Korea and later Viet Nam. They were all great patriots. They did what their country asked of them, regardless of how they felt about the wars. Some of them and their families still suffer after effects.

Many of those who left the little town became quite successful… some of them serving in senior leadership positions in industries all over the world, especially in the oil and gas industry. They married spouses from all over and raised families.

It makes me inordinately proud that there was a time when I called most of these men and women ‘friend.’

THE WORLD’S BEST FLIP PHONE

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Miscellany

Before I owned a Smartphone, I owned a Flip phone… a very good flip phone. I selected it carefully, planning to use it for years. It worked fine, great even, and I enjoyed using it. It was small, convenient, sturdy and protected in its own attached hard-shell plastic case. It didn’t break whenever I dropped it. Even better, it fit perfectly into my cross-body bag. It even met military specifications.

One weekend when I was back home after a long and difficult week of travel, I got up very early and started laundry. I travelled a great deal at that time, and clean clothes were always a treat. I was tired and made a big mistake. When I transferred my wet clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. I found my precious flip phone in a soggy pocket. I felt sick. The phone contained literally hundreds of personal and business telephone numbers for loved ones, friends, family, clients and consultants. I dreaded having to enter all those numbers manually into a new phone.

I allowed the phone to dry out. I didn’t know then that embedding it in dry rice might help the process… I simply air dried it. Finally I turned it back on and braced myself for bad news.

IT WORKED JUST FINE! It never missed a step. A few years later I was forced by society and convenience to replace it with a Smartphone. I still love that sturdy little Flip phone.

WHAT THE WIND BLEW IN & ANOTHER SURPRISE

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Miscellany
Female swimmer

Years ago, Chocoholic and I spent a few days at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas. One morning we changed into our swimsuits and went to the pool. It was a windy day. We both swam laps for exercise in the icy water. I love to swim. I’m a slow, but steady swimmer. When I was done, I climbed out of the pool, dried off and relaxed on a chaise lounge.

The wind picked up and blew a piece of paper to me that stuck to my chest. I peeled it off. It was a $20 bill.

A winner, in Vegas! Yea!

A few years ago, we met friends in Venice and joined a cruise in the Mediterranean. Chocoholic and I arrived the night before and stayed in a small hotel near St. Mark’s Square. We walked to a nearby trattoria for an early dinner. We were the only patrons, and there was only a single waiter present, a young man, much younger than us.

We enjoyed our pizza. When we asked for the check, the waiter said there was no charge. That was a big surprise. I asked him why no charge, and he responded, because it’s for you. That was another big surprise, but I had no more questions. We gave him a very nice tip and returned to our hotel.

I never figured out why he didn’t charge us. We’re not famous or beautiful or unique in any way, but we enjoyed our dinner and the hospitality.

 

HOW NOT TO COOK POTATOES

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Miscellany

SPOILER ALERT: The following sounds suspiciously like a rant.

I’m a news junkie. I try to keep up. I follow food, health and medicine; war, catastrophes and disasters; writing and publishing; business, finance & investments; and baseball. Too many so-called “news articles” these days waste my time.

Many articles deliberately don’t get to the point until one has scrolled through endless paragraphs of detailed background. While the background is usually quite worthwhile, it suits me better to have it slotted after the advertised point as I’m usually already aware of the background. Too many articles never get to the advertised point, they just ramble. Click bait still occasionally lures me into opening new tabs with endless advertisements for whatever I don’t need, but I’m wising up about them. And bait and switch articles promise specific items of interest but never deliver. And then there is the recent plethora of articles that inform me of each and every freaking thing the well-meaning author assumes that I’m doing wrong.

For example, a fictional headline might read: “ONE HUNDRED MISTAKES YOU MAKE COOKING POTATOES!” I naively figure that given a veritable landslide of instructions to follow, at least a few will prove worthwhile, but, no! Each and every one turns out to be far too simplistic. Only a complete dolt would make such idiotic mistakes… like cooking a potato that has obviously been invaded by a big fat wiggly worm. Come on, guys. Give your readers credit for possessing a modicum of common sense!

Stop wasting our time.

Sorry… I couldn’t help myself. It was indeed a rant.

 

A SNOWY CHRISTMAS DAY IN HOUSTON

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Miscellany

Years ago, it snowed in Houston on Christmas Eve, a very BIG DEAL. Early Christmas morning, Chocoholic and Jack, our beloved Black Lab, and I drove to a nearby park. The day was grey and overcast, and the snow was still on the ground. We took a box of crackers and cans of cat food to feed the ducks and the feral cats.

I held the crackers and Jack’s leash while Chocoholic took the cat food and the can opener over to the place where the cats hung out. As he began opening cans, we noticed a gentleman coming toward us off the pier, obviously intent on greeting Beautiful, Never Met a Stranger Jack. Jack was a big dog. He took off toward him in a flash. I flew through the air (full horizontal, Scout’s Honor!) and landed on my back, my breath knocked out of me. The box burst open and crackers rained down around my head. Jack instantly transferred his attention from the man to the crackers. I lay there, catching my breath while Jack’s massive jaw gobbled up crackers around my head. “SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!” He consumed at least half a box of crackers while Chocoholic and the other gentleman helped me to my feet. I was unhurt.

Unfortunately there was little Christmas cheer left for the ducks, but Chocoholic, Jack and I had a most memorable White Christmas. I wish you all the Happiest of Holidays.

MY GRANDMOTHER’S COOKBOOK

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Food, Miscellany
Lynn’s Lemon Meringue Pie. She took the picture.

Sometime around the start of the pandemic lockdown, I promised my sister that I would find Grandmother’s Cook Book.  Lynn wanted a copy of a favorite cookie recipe. I finally found the book the other day, some 3 years later, cookie recipe included. Lynn graciously avoided mention of the long delay and said that she’d get right on it.

We lived with my grandmother while we were growing up. She did the bulk of the cooking and was an excellent cook. Mother was a good cook but worked full time and cooked infrequently. My grandmother taught me how to cook. For many years, I considered myself a good cook but then gradually found myself cutting corners, using too many convenience foods. In my quest for a healthier diet, I have changed my ways, but I’m not really a good cook anymore.

My sister Lynn is a better cook than I am, and she, too, cooks most meals. She bakes regularly and is into sourdough and artisan flours. She made a lemon meringue pie yesterday and sent me a picture. See attached. (Obviously she’s a better photographer than I am too.) She confirms the pie is as yummy as it looks.

My grandmother’s cook book is an old-fashioned hardbound ledger book. It has been used for so long that it’s coming apart at the seams. It includes a wide variety of foods, especially baked goods, punches, homemade ice creams and hostess foods for times past. She routinely made lemon meringue and ice box pies; many different kinds of cookies; various chocolate, devil’s food, banana and angel food cakes; banana and rice puddings; and Christmas candies, all from scratch. The big deal every year when she was alive was making a huge, heavy, dark fruit cake at Thanksgiving and soaking it in bourbon until Christmas. I still love fruit cake but haven’t made one in a long time. When I eat sweets these days, they’re usually purchased and sugar free. Chocoholic, my husband would love for me to bake more cookies, but I’m afraid that I continually disappoint him.

UNEXPECTED GUESTS

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Miscellany

Wildlife sightings began ticking up in mid-June, probably as a result of rain and increased forage. Deer were everywhere, causing Flash and me to occasionally interrupt our walking. A young doe careened around nearby yards in the early mornings, acting a little crazy.

One morning, Flash sent me a snapshot of an entire family of foxes and their kits lazing on a neighbor’s patio. My sister Lynn reported the rescue of a young fawn from a storm sewer. Chocoholic witnessed a young Cooper’s Hawk chase the fat squirrel onto our back porch. Two days later I heard a kerfuffle on the porch and have not seen the fat squirrel since. I assume the worst. A younger, smaller, foolhardy squirrel took over the territory. I feared he was not long for this world, but as of late August, he’s still here.

Strangest of all was the road runner. I had only ever seen a roadrunner once, maybe twice. They are elusive creatures that avoid civilization… or so my thinking went. Early on a mid-June morning, my neighbor and I stood talking outside in the shade about the young doe. She thought the doe guarded a baby fawn hidden in the grass behind another neighbor’s house. We turned and watched as a roadrunner appeared and strode confidently toward us. He carried a twig in his beak. We were not hidden or quiet. He showed no hesitation as he came within 4 feet of us. He circled the tree we were standing under, still only 3-4 feet away and stalked easily up the trunk to a nest near the top. I never knew road runners climbed trees or nested in them. I never knew they approached people.

My neighbor and I were both struck dumb. My mouth hung open in awe. It was almost as if the roadrunner nodded to us as if to say, “Morning ladies. Beautiful day!”

Follow up note: As of Labor Day 2023, that was the last of the rain to date with only 20 minutes of slow soft rain a couple of weeks ago. I stood outside and watched every minute of it. We are now in EXTREME DROUGHT. The road runner has moved her residence to another street.

DEADLY PREMONITION

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Miscellany

In early July, I filled the birdbath and an old dog dish on the back porch with water for the birds and squirrels.

Later, I remembered my friend Nancy from Dallas who created a little concrete pond in her back yard to provide water for wild creatures. An unwanted snake immediately settled in, and she ended up killing it. I hoped I wouldn’t be faced with a similar problem. The birds came on the second day. The following day a creature appeared next to the water dish on the porch, looking like a deflated bicycle innertube or a dark crumpled chiffon headscarf. I figured it had to be a snake. He didn’t move, not one muscle. He appeared to be dead. I texted a snapshot to a family member who responded with one word: “Rattlesnake.”

GULP!

I patiently gave the snake plenty of time to leave, but he didn’t. Finally he disappeared, but then I could see that a dark mat on the porch was newly-tented. I feared the snake was hiding under the mat. Reluctantly, I called one of the local snake wranglers… I’ll call him Jack. I say “reluctantly” because I feared he would kill him. Snakes, even poisonous ones are quite useful. For one thing, they keep the mice and rat population down, especially useful in neighborhoods where many feed wildlife.

Jack wore a red shirt, jeans, western boots and a straw cowboy hat. He was older than I had anticipated but was quite fit and very professional, not to mention utterly fearless. He came empty-handed. After fussing at me for not calling him right away, he set me straight: The wranglers need to know about every snake right away, even garter and other non-poisonous snakes. He would relocate the snake to a local ranch after recording him in an extensive research project they’ve had ongoing for many years.

He stepped out onto the back porch and began looking for the snake, still unarmed, while I watched from the safety of the kitchen. I must admit I closed the screen securely, cutting off the wrangler’s escape if the snake threatened him. I considered taking a snapshot, but didn’t want to distract Jack. He quickly found the snake when he lifted a plastic container from the far corner.

“Whoa! A monster rattlesnake.”

Other than those 4 words, he was cool as a cucumber. He set the container down and went to get his things. I closed and locked the slider behind him. I ran to get our snake stick and propped it next to the door just in case the snake got away from him. Chocoholic was watching TV evening news and asked drolly if I were going to be backup. I glared at him. Any pitiful efforts on my part to subdue an angry rattlesnake would be a last ditch measure. We would all perish.

Jack returned with a big covered plastic bucket and a snake stick. It only took him a minute to get the predator into the bucket. The snake looked to me to be maybe 3 to 3.5 feet in length, but he was pissed and squirmy, and I can’t be sure.

Jack explained to me that: A rattlesnake that size could deliver 4-5 lethal doses of venom to adults; few Texans die from rattlesnake bites, but they do suffer; the toxin is strong enough to kill human tissue which will turn gangrenous and require multiple surgeries. The average hospital bill for rattlesnake bite approaches $50K for 20 or so doses of antivenom alone, not to mention the other pricey care. Cats and small dogs will not survive a bite.

Thank goodness we have such dedicated community volunteers. Kudos, gentlemen.

I should mention that my heroine in The Pig Parts Series has two encounters with rattlesnakes over the course of seven books, once in close quarters in a laundry room with her newborn baby nearby, and once during a major storm during her long, solitary odyssey in rural Mexico. She, of course, is much braver than I am.

 

PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE

by Leigh N. Russell, posted in Miscellany
Turkey Trot Practice

Wildlife surrounds us: deer, coyotes, turkeys, snakes, racoons, squirrels, hawks, birds, armadillos and foxes among others. Even the rare mountain lion.

Wild turkeys are particularly delightful. A few years ago on an evening when we were entertaining a card group, some 18 to 20 turkeys perched on our fence looking like gigantic ungainly vultures. Unfortunately I’ve misplaced that picture. It was quite a sight.

Several years ago, I watched a fascinating documentary on PBS by Joe Hutto: “My Life as a Turkey.” He raised a flock of turkeys from eggs as if he was their mother. The video might also be found on YouTube. It’s well worth watching.

Turkeys can be dangerous. Males have irritable dispositions and deadly spurs, on the backs of their legs, and upon occasion have been known to kill humans. When Flash and I walk in the early mornings, we sometimes encounter the flock and have to wait for them to cross the road in front of us. Sometimes we have to fix them with strobe or flashlights to get them to move on. Sometimes nothing works, and a lot of waiting around or a detour is involved. Lately, in a nearby neighborhood, two adult turkeys have been terrorizing walkers.

This past winter, the flock was quite large, numbering more than 50 birds. As summer progresses, the numbers have already begun to dwindle due to coyote and other predations.

One cold overcast morning, four of the male turkeys put on a magnificent display hoping to lure the dowdier females into mating with them. As you can see, they had practiced their moves and didn’t miss a step.

And a one and a two…