She’s got the hose and the shampoo. Quick – find a place to hide!
After I’m wet down and soaped up, there’s nothing better than a good roll in the grass…
and then a good shake to get the *clean* off.
After my rub down and brush, I still refuse to look at the camera to show off how handsome I am!
The good idea file is empty today, my camera battery needs recharging and I have all these photos of wildflowers from the Pine Barrens that I don’t feel like writing about. So instead we’ll have a little ID quiz with some hints for those of you that don’t frequent NJ’s bogs.
Many of the photos I took at Webb’s Mill Bog last week look sort of *impressionistic* like this one; I didn’t mean for it to be that way and instead think I may have had one too many cups of coffee that afternoon. I like the look anyway and I knew what these plants were so didn’t need a tack sharp photo to help with ID. You don’t really need it either, as the photo shows the relevant parts, but you do need to know that this is another carnivorous plant that grows in wet, sandy bogs.
Happy guessing!
Can you see the happiness in this man’s face and his sense of good fortune for having such handsome sons? This is among my favorite photos of him; from a time before I was born and a time that I imagine to have been among his most contented.
As fate would have it, he lost his eldest son Neil, the freckle-faced redhead on the left and another son, Stephen, before I was even born. Two brothers I claim but never knew.
I wonder about whether he was a different father before the loss of two of his sons. I’d guess he was and think this photo must give a hint of the man he was before.
I’m almost finished with the 3 weeks of *classroom* training for my new job. It’s going well and I’m learning about a lot of social service programs that I never knew existed, even though I’ve worked at the agency for more than ten years. That’s one thing I’ve figured out about social workers; we’re expected to be a resource for our clients and a good social worker should know all of what is available to help people. There are simply too many programs for anyone to know very much about all of them. As a caseworker I worked in the Medicaid program and knew it very well, but didn’t know much about anything else. We spent all of about 10 minutes learning about Medicaid in training today, so you can imagine how little the others were able to pick up and *know* about that particular program. At least I’m an *expert* at one of them!
To begin with I’ll be placed in the homeless services/emergency assistance unit taking applications and finding placement for homeless individuals and families. Next week, our training time will be spent making site visits to some of places where the homeless are provided with temporary housing – shelters, motels, rooming houses, and transitional housing sites. I’m looking forward to the chance for some field time, although I imagine it will be eye opening.
Speaking of eye opening: I learned that my county spent more than 9 million dollars last year providing services and housing for the homeless. Can you imagine? Typically, families are put up in motels, at a cost of approx. $1800 monthly due to a lack of any more affordable alternative. Do you or I spend $1800 on housing each month? That $1800 isn’t buying a room at the Hilton either – those welfare motels in our shore towns are some of the most run-down places! I’m curious to hear how much you know about the homeless in your own communities; I think if I asked my neighbors the same question, most would say that they’re not aware of a homeless problem in our area. I mostly thought that the homeless were found in cities, not in an affluent area like the one I live in. Clearly I was wrong – what about you?
So anyway, that’s the update on how I’ve been occupying my workdays. I miss the routine of my old job and my friends, but life is good.
The pretty yellow flower is Hudsonia ericoides – Pine Barrens Heather. Great patches of this plant cover sandy places in the barrens, but this one was just about finished for the season.
“To the Wayfarer-
Ye who pass by and would raise your hand against me
Harken ere you harm me!
I am the heat of your hearth on cold winter nights,
The friendly shade screening you from the summer sun
My fruits are refreshing draughts,
Quenching your thirst as you journey on,
I am the beam that holds your house,
The board of your table,
The bed on which you lie,
And the timber that builds your boat,
I am the handle of your hoe,
The door of your homestead,
The wood of your cradle,
And the shell of your coffin.
I am the bread of kindness and the flower of beauty.
Ye who pass by, listen to my prayer; harm me not.”
A notice originally found nailed to a tree in Seville, Spain and found by me reprinted at the local arboretum.
Training for the new job starts tomorrow! My friends at work gave me quite a send-off this past week; there were multiple parties and lots of baked goods and gifts, leaving me to think maybe they’re glad to see me go.
😉
Really, I’m not going far. I’ve been assigned to another office for a while, but I’m not sure where I’ll end up after the training period. You know how it is; with certain people you’ll be close regardless of the distance that separates you.
At day’s end today I boxed up my few things and tried to get my pending cases in some sort of order for my coworkers who will have to pick up where I left off. There’s no one to replace me right away, so everyone’s caseload will increase in my absence. I ought to be glad they weren’t throwing things at me as I left, for that reason alone.
Meaningful words of encouragement have come to me from surprising places. The reaction of some others to my promotion is not so surprising. I’ve been making the joke that I’m going over to the dark side by transferring to a social work position; among many caseworkers, social workers are often viewed as too softhearted and enabling. As a caseworker, my job was to know and to follow the rules – there wasn’t much room for leeway or kind-heartedness. It was also my job, I think, to know the loopholes in the law, or at least to know how to make the laws work for my clients. A lot of caseworkers don’t do that; everything is done by the book.
One of the awful questions I was asked during the interview process was to define a *good* social worker. Gosh! How could I answer that question without knowing much about the job? I mumbled some foolishness that must have been close enough to the *right* answer so as to not immediately flag me as inadequate, but really, I don’t know.
A clerical worker that I’ve known and respected since I first started at this job congratulated me today on the promotion and admonished me to be a *good* social worker, “Don’t be like most of ‘em,” she said. I hope tomorrow I’ll begin to learn just what that means.
My friend Debbie sent this along to me last weekend – her way of suggesting, perhaps, that I treat myself to a pedicure. My feet never look quite this awful, but I have very dry skin and go barefoot often.
The Open-Toed Shoe Pledge
As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the Rules when wearing sandals and other open-toe shoes:
I promise to always wear sandals that fit. My toes will not hang over and touch the ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs. And the sides and tops of my feet will not pudge out between the straps.
I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free.
I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe.
I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.
I will shave the hairs off my big toe.
I won’t wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker, mother, sister tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it there.
If a strap breaks, I won’t duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it will stay put. I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.
I will not live in corn denial; rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholl’s if my feet need him.
I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99 even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids’ sizes. This is out of concern for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a pool of sweat and I would hate to take someone down with me as I fall and break my ankle.
I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to look like Vienna sausages.
I will be brutally honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes are as long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet look good.
I will promise if I wear flip flops that I will ensure that they actually flip and flop, making the correct noise while walking and I will swear NOT to slide or drag my feet while wearing them.
I will promise to go to my local nail salon at least once per season and have a real pedicure (they are about $35 and worth EVERY penny).
I will promise to throw away any white/off-white sandals that show signs of wear… nothing is tackier than dirty white sandals.
I do not consider myself a member of the *cute girl sisterhood* nor do I have any desire for such, but a pedicure is a nice treat once in a while. I treated myself this afternoon and have pretty pink nails and less offensive heels. For a year or two I had my nails done every two weeks, but it started to seem silly to spend the hour and the money only to go home and submerge those pretty fingernails in pond muck. Nowadays, mostly I just try to make sure not to go out of the house with too much garden dirt beneath them. I wonder about the rest of you – are you *high maintenance* or something in between?
Legend has it that counting the number of breaths it takes to blow off all the seeds of a dandelion globe that has gone to seed will tell you the hour. Mentioned just in case you needed some way to amuse yourself this weekend. Have fun!
Blogger won’t let me upload pics tonight. I guess it’s feeling cranky, too. I wanted to share my pretty peonies with you.
If you haven’t already, stop by Mary’s for some fun.
Well, the cat’s out the bag and I can finally share the good news – I got that promotion at work that I’d put in for a while back! There’ll be a nice little raise and some new scenery. I’ll be working in a different title and with greater and more varied responsibilities. But first, I have to go through a 90-day training period and pass a few tests (this is civil service, after all).
One downside to the training period is that I can’t take a minute off from work for the next three months. Instead I’m taking an early summer vacation that starts tomorrow! I’m thrilled, mostly because the weather is supposed to be nice and I never ever take a week off at this time of year. Usually I like to take a day here and there during the summer, and if needed for vet appointments and such, and then take near to my whole number of vacation days at the end of the year when it’s a matter of *use them or lose them*. So this will be a treat!
I’ll go back after Memorial Day for 3 days to finish up with pending cases and pack up my things. I won’t have a desk for a while, so I’m not sure what I’ll do with all the stuff I’ve managed to accumulate in my cubicle over the last few years.
I’m excited with the new position, but a bit nervous because I imagine it will be very different from what I do now. I’ve been working as a caseworker for the NJ Medicaid program for more than 10 years; now I’ll be working as a social worker. To begin with, I’ll be assigned to a unit that is responsible for the placement of homeless families; later there will be the chance to work with the elderly or the disabled or to become involved with any number of social service programs. There’ll be more client contact than I have now and more interaction with the Latino community because of my Spanish-speaking abilities. I’m particularly excited about that because I really enjoy the face-to-face time; my job now is too much about filling out forms and getting paperwork off my desk as fast as possible. There will be challenges, I’m sure, but I look forward to the opportunity to grow some.
Anyway, I have a whole week of unsupervised time ahead of me and I can’t decide what to do first! That’s a wonderful feeling, too.
