Friday's Dispatch

The Edmund Fitzgerald sank in 1975 and we're as fascinated with the loss today as when she went down. Click on picture for more information.






• The interior of my work backpack smells strongly like stale cigarette smoke and I don't know why.






• Zac calls my work backpack my nurse purse.
  
  
  
• There's only been maybe a couple of times I've been tempted to cry at the death of one of my hospice patients. A friend told me she did not know how, but she got so wrapped up in one patient she broke down bawling and the family had to console her after he died.






• I have very- very strong memories of my dad taking me fishing when I was little- probably as little as six years old. They were the best times I ever had and the strongest memories of my entire life. I'm thinking now of a time he threw a fish back which then got caught in the algae by the bank and a snake came from one end to eat it and one from the other. They ate all the way up until their faces were touching and then they went berserk. I watched them fight for an hour or more. The loser finally vomited his end out and was so weak he couldn't swim away. I went to sleep in the back of the old Ford LTD and woke up to a rising sun and fog covering the ground. Mist covered the river which was smooth as glass. My dad looked bleary eyed sitting by the fire, but glad to see me. I saw a soft shelled turtle in the shallows as soon as I got to the waters edge. It was the first one I'd ever seen. I chased it and finally caught it. They're incredibly fast and have crazy long necks. It threw it's head over it's shell snapping and biting at me- it's a miracle I did not lose a finger. We had some pretty exclusive fishing rights to some large area ranches tanks, lakes and river access although I don't know how or why.






• I nearly always spell from form.






• Do snakes have faces? I'm not sure that is correct


• Zac: Dad are you getting old? Yes, yes I am.