ChaiTeaLatte

Oh, who am I kidding?

I've got plenty of time to throw up one of my thrown-together posts. Plenty. I've felt, well, recalcitrant, stubborn, lazy, laconic. Just plain old non-communicative. I don't wanna write anything. I don't wanna. Just don't. And that's the truth of it.

Busyness....

Busyness.....just lots of busyness......

It's the little things that matter.....

We have a new sign-out room, which just fills me with delight. We (the group of pathologists in my specialty area) asked the higher-ups for better digs. One of the old multi-headed scopes has been moved into the new room, which also houses some of the fellows, and one of our new fellows went crazy with one of those fancy label-makers. We now have neatly labeled spots for pending cases, cases waiting for levels/special stains, cases ready to be signed-out. I brought in a HEPA filter unit, and so did the fellow (don't ask about the HEPA thing, it's a sort of insanity on my part. Actually, my mother bought it for me). We've got a big Chinese porcelein vase in the corner, covered in fine pink and blue flowers, and a bright blue glass cup holding pens and freshly sharpened pencils sits on the counter behind our scope. The pens are all labeled, "property of dermpath." So are the backs of the chairs pulled up around the multi-headed scope.

Update: Unfortunately, some of the fellows in the new digs think there might be mold in the carpet, or in the ceiling, from an old ceiling leak that happened about a year ago. Environmental services, or whatever it's called, is right on the job and is inspecting the whole place, but, honestly! I was so happy about the new space. One step forward......

Fourth of July at the Old State House

We are standing outside the Old State House, waiting for a reading of the Declaration of Independence. Humid and hot, especially for a mid-morning, and my camera doesn't work, of course. The battery has run down; I didn't think of recharging it the night before. A couple in front of us tries to placate a restive child by lifting him high into the air and onto the mother's shoulder. "He's gonna hit his head," Jonathan whispers. But he doesn't hit his head. He misses the scaffolding they are standing under by just a hair, quite literally.

The Declaration is read by Captain Commanding Colonel Daniel G. May (that's exactly as it reads in the program, and it all sounds incredibly complicated). The crowd can't hear him and someone behind us yells, "caaant hear."

"Typical Boston," says Jonathan. So, a new microphone is found, or it's turned on or moved closer to the speaker, or whatever, and we start to hear him speak, to read the Declaration. When it comes to the part, "That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent states..." a cheer goes up from the assembled crowd. A healthy, robust cheer.

(Later, my father would ask, "did you feel kind of funny, did it feel like something special to stand there and listen?" I told him no when he asked, but I'm not sure why I said that. lt did feel special. I remember saying, "to think, all this starting from one declaration." I mean, think about it. All this!)