CAN CODY COME OUT TO PLAY ???

FIRST I WANT TO THANK EVERYONE FOR YOUR KIND AND CARING COMMENTS ON MY LAST POST. I AM SO GRATEFUL THAT YOU ALL ARE TAKING THE WARNING TO HEART. THIS IS A VERY PREVENTABLE PROBLEM AND I WOULD LIKE TO BE THE LAST INFECTED WITH ROSE THORN DISEASE WITHIN THE SCOPE OF MY KEYBOARD.
THANK YOU FOR CARING, YOU ALL ARE THE BEST.



I think I have given a bad impression of the job of meter reader. Yes, it was hot, strenuous, often dangerous work, but there were more times when it was the best job ever. Hard to believe huh? I refused accepting an inside job to work for 6 years. Only when I was afraid they would quit asking me did I finally take an inside job and that was because it was only a "partially" inside job. I loved the freedom.


I had no boss over my shoulder. I worked out doors, my favorite place to be. I was in the best condition of my life. I met really nice people who made me forget the not so nice ones. Sure I was attacked and bitten but then there were the "Cody" types.


From the first day I arrived, I had heard the story of Cody. He was a very large German Shepard and the meter reader's friend. This was unusual for a good number of dogs considered us, mail carriers, and UPS as "game" to be chased and chewed on.


Cody lived in a middle income area that was plagued with chain link fences. Fences are not the meter reader's friend. Fences actually were the bane of our existence. They had to be one hand hurdled, well the guys hurdled. Being a shorty, I climbed up and dropped over in a three step move. We were very careful not to damage the fence for that could really get us in trouble. Instead, we climbed at the support posts and passed through the yards with out a trace. Ninety eight percent of the people who were home at the time, never saw or heard us.


Some routes were so heavily fenced that we felt very rabbit like at the finish line. Cody's route contained about 50% fences. I had been with the company for almost a year before I drew his route. When it finally came up, I was really excited. I was going to meet a legend.


We had small maps of each area and his route started right at his house. I parked in front of his home, went to the door and rang the bell. I could hear a large dog barking inside and heard him slam against the door and the clicking of large claws. For a second, I was afraid I had been 'punked' and that Cody was really a monster dog who loved meter readers---to eat.

The door opened as far as the security chain would let it and a lady asked what I wanted.

"I'm Patti the meter reader," I informed her, "Can Cody come out to play?"


She laughed and told me he had been waiting all morning for me. It seems he knew when read day came and was up with the birds in anticipation. With that, she let the very large and beautiful Shepherd out and he was all over me in a good way.

Not my picture but the sweet eyes are perfect.

"Have a good day." She ordered Cody and I , then shut the door trusting us both completely.

I wasn't sure how this worked so I started off with Cody prancing at my side. The first fence I came to, I didn't know what to do with him. Afraid to let him in, I pet his head and squeezed through the gate leaving him outside. The next three yards were fenced so I climbed out of one into the next.


In the last yard I used the gate and there sat Cody with a tongue out grin. I had no need to worry. He had done the route so often that he knew just where I would be coming out. He had memorized the path taken to each of the 250 houses. The joy he would greet me with was heart warming. Till that day, he had never seen me, but on that day, I was his best friend.

This went on the whole day and I had a wonderful time with my quiet friend. He walked in a perfect 'heel,' glued to my side unless I had to leave him for a fenced yard. I made sure he got water when I did and he never showed any sign of boredom.

I really felt badly when the day was over and I had to take him back home. I gratefully thanked the lady for the loan of her dog and she thanked me for giving Cody a grand day. I was sad when I got in my car to go back to the office. I was convinced that every route needed a Cody. He was a boon companion for a solitary job.

It was about a year later that we got the sad news. Cody was not doing well and could no longer go with the meter readers. He was suffering from age and arthritis. It was just too painful for him to walk all day with us. We were about 20 in number and most of us had enjoyed the pleasure of Cody's company as he had performed this ritual this for years. He was going to be really missed. Even the most devout dog hater among us was saddened.

We took up a collection and had a bronze plaque made that had the face of a Shepherd embossed and the wording,

CODY

THE FINEST DOG IN PALM BEACH COUNTY

FROM YOUR GRATEFUL FRIENDS

It was a smart looking plaque set on a wooden base which we all signed. We also got him a huge sirloin steak and we made an appointment to see him as a group.

When we went for the presentation, Cody was obviously lame and though he got up slowly, he wagged his tail big time seeing all his friends in one room. Dogs do grin by the way and he about split his face grinning that day.

The plaque really pleased his owner but Cody had his eye on the large, great smelling package. She promised he would get every bit of the steak. His owner cried that day and so did most of us, especially the girls. It was hugs all around.

We no longer knocked on the door to see if Cody could come out to play. His owner said it upset him too much and he would whine and cry the whole day whenever he heard us in his yard. We let her read her own meter from then on so he couldn't hear us.

Cody eventually passed but his legend was being told to each new reader long after he was gone. Wouldn't be a bit surprised if the meter readers from that office today also know the story of a dog named Cody.

BEWARE OF ROSES, THEY CAN KILL YOU

This week I came back from the doctor with a weird diagnosis ( Sporotrichosis infection). It is not common but since there are a lot of rose and gardening people out there, I thought it my duty to warn you. Are you aware that a rose bush can kill you?? I sure wasn't. Before you all start fighting over my things, I don't plan to go any where ---yet.

Sporotrichosis is an infection of the skin caused by a fungus, Sporothrix schenckii. This infection-causing fungus is related more closely to the mold on stale bread or the yeast used to brew beer than to bacteria that usually cause infections. The mold is found on rose thorns, hay, sphagnum moss, twigs, and soil. Therefore, the infection is more common among gardeners who work with roses, moss, hay, and soil.



Several weeks ago, for some reason I did not wear my elbow high rose gloves which I am usually religious about and my rose bush attacked me. It stuck me at the base of my index finger at the nail bed. It was in quite deep. I pulled the thorn out and suspected I didn't get it all. Within a day I had a blister like swelling at the site. That lasted about a week and then the blister broke and I thought that was it.
As the nail grew, it also got gruesome. My new nail was not there, just pink knarly skin and eventually I lost the old nail. After some time, the new nail growing in seemed OK but I had some pain and swelling at the site.




This is picture of my finger now. It has looked much, much worse. It appears I am getting ready to lose the second nail.

For the next month, I would have good days and bad days. Never screaming pain but annoying hangnail type pain. It would appear to be getting better, then relapse. I was thinking it was a simple nail fungus but finally I gave up the home remedies and saw the doctor. She had to do some research also for she had never come across it.

Sophorix is a yeasty fungus that can wreak havoc on the human body. An infected gardener can experience redness, swelling and open weeping ulcerations along the puncture site. The fungus then travels quickly to the lymphatic system where it spreads though out the body. It can infect the eyes causing keratitis, migrate to the bones and joints, and damage the central nervous system and lungs.

A deeply embedded thorn has been found to migrate into the bones or muscles, away from the original site. There it will bury itself, causing pain, fever and other signs of infection. Because this is not a commonly known disease, it often gets misdiagnosed.

Diagnosing sophorix is not easy. There is a skin test, similar to the TB test, which is fairly effective in pinpointing rose thorn disease. But it mainly is effective at identifying active lung infection and often misses the skin infection entirely. For deeply embedded thorns traditional X-rays, MRI's and CAT scans don't normally pick up on the thorn. However, ultrasound has been found to demonstrate the existence of an embedded thorn.

This can be a fatal condition but most often it is just a LOOOOOOG treatment and recovery. The drug they give you has really bad side effects. Right now we are going conservative with antibodies but if that doesn't work, which it won't on rose thorn disease, then ultrasound to find the piece I didn't get and removal are preferable to the long drug treatment ( 3 to 6 months).

I know I have a lot of gardener readers and like me, you may have worked with those beauties for years with no problems. This is a very serious disease and as previously stated, it can move to the bones and joints, the lungs and the brain. It can be fatal.

Please, please, please be sure to always wear gloves around the rose bushes or even just working in the garden. It just takes one slip up.

Anyone else been through this ???

WORTH AVENUE AND A ROPE BELT

I have never been a fashion slave but I do appreciate nice clothing. Lets face it, very expensive clothes just fit better and can add at least a doctorate, an adoring rich husband, and years of easy living to your appearance. When I worked at the bank, we wore uniforms so anything we spent on clothing went purely for casual or evening wear. One of our thrills each year was when Worth Avenue in Palm Beach ( the East Coast equivalent to Rodeo Dr.) would have its end of season sales. Their sales were awesome.

Ah, finally we could afford the good stuff. Not the $500 blouses , but some of the nice lower end merchandise in the likes of stores such as Saks, Neiman Markus, and Gucci, that had incredible sales. We had our moments in the sun so to speak strolling up and down Worth Ave without a real Palm Beacher in sight. They wouldn't have been caught dead buying styles that were so "last year".

When I later went to work for Florida Power and Light as a meter reader, my work uniform consisted of jeans,company tee shirts and chunky leather soled shoes. Absolutely no glamor there. I had been in training for one month when it was time for my first solo flight. My first route was that very same Worth Avenue.

I had been trained on this route and it was a miserable one. The old buildings had been added on to so many times that the meters that once had been on the outside of the buildings, were now hidden in alcoves, inside cabinets, storage rooms, in bathrooms, and under eves. Nothing was in plain sight. I had parked my vehicle with the Meter Reader sign in my window to ward off the meter maids and was getting ready for my first day when I noticed I had forgotten a belt.

We had to carry a small tool pouch that the company provided but we supplied the belt. I had been excited about my first day solo run and had just forgotten. Rummaging around, I found an old sisal rope and thought, this will do for I would be out of sight of anyone behind the stores. So with the rope tied in a big bow holding my tool belt on, off I went.

As prestigious as Worth Avenue is, the back sides of the stores were a horror show. Purely nasty. Old wooden cabinets,when found in the convoluted mess, not only revealed the meters but some of the biggest spiders I have ever seen. They were easily the size of you hand and that was only the body.

Small version of the wood spider.

I had an absolute terror of spiders so I was really, really uncomfortable. Giant prehistoric looking lizards also lived in the tropical setting behind the stores. They didn't frighten me as a species but their sudden movement when you surprised them did. Good thing no one was behind the stores that day for my language was filled with unladylike expletives each time I was startled.

Spider webs frosted my hair, and cuts from the over grown saw grass had blood running from both arms. My clothes were filthy from the ancient dirt covering the cabinets and my jeans were carrying a variety of sticker bush hitchhikers. My family would not have claimed me.

When I finally finished, I leafed through the book to check my readings and found I had missed one. Tiffany and Co had a blank page. By now I was pretty beaten down and not in good humor. There was no way to tell where Tiffany was located. There was nothing behind the string of buildings to tell where you were. I hunted rather haphazardly and finally knew there was only one way. I had to go in the front of the store and ask the owners. I wasn't sure what I looked like but I had a good idea.

I walked from behind the buildings onto the sidewalk and tried to quickly find the missing address. It was about as far from where I was as it could be. Tightening up my rope belt, trying to brush off the cob webs, dirt, and smearing the blood on my arms, I marched down Worth Avenue and in the front door of Tiffany's. I don't know if you have ever been the object of total attention, but you actually can feel eyes burn into your back.

The manager had too much class to gasp when she saw me but when she found out what I wanted, she quickly escorted me out the back door and showed me the hidden cabinet. She didn't say anything but I realized it would be prudent for all concerned if I were to make my way back down the street behind the stores. It was hard work beating through the bushes but that hurt less than the burning eye routine. I did manage a chuckle wondering just what my "wanta be Palm Beach pimp" would have thought had he seen me. Pretty sure my earning power would have taken a dive.

I am certain no one in Palm Beach would have been able to pick me out of a line up after I cleaned up but it was several years before I could take advantage of the Worth Avenue sales again.

Embarrassment has a long shelf life.