VA Clinic

I’m taking a veteran down to Scottsbluff to the Veterans Administration Clinic Wednesday morning. I do this occasionally, as you who read my blog regularly know, a part of my volunteer work through RSVP (Retired Senior Volunteer Program). It is an easy thing for me to do. It is something I can do. It is something I want to do!

The trip is a short one. We’ll leave a bit before 7:00 AM, and most likely be back home before 10 AM. My cats needn’t worry about supper!

This particular volunteer activity is one I feel the Veterans Administration, the US Government have a moral obligation to do but don’t, all in the name of saving money. More about that later.

There used to be a clinic in town. There is a bus to take people to the VA hospitals and clinics that serve this part of Nebraska but they are dependent of having a driver or a full day to devote to the activity. I am a time saver for the people I drive to appointments. When you get to a certain age, time’s at a premium. Let’s be blunt about it. Between riding and waiting to get in for an appointment, lots of time’s consumed in a way that saves the US Government (you and me, the taxpayers) money. Paul Ryan must be proud.

On the other hand, the people I take to these appointments served in war zones, gave up their youth being shot at, sometimes were wounded if not emotionally scarred. What the hell is a little money to you, me, and the money scrimpers in Congress when we’re talking about people like that? I guarantee your Congressman gets better treatment than that. So does your Senator. Yet very few of them ever served in the military, let alone stood in the firing line in a war zone, have to deal with a prosthesis, go to bed and not sleep because they can’t forget the terrors their country had no problem tossing them into.

I think it is a disgrace. Let me restate that:


Oh yeah, Congress. I spend my own money driving these people. If I can’t convince them not to give me money, I donate that money in their name to the Sallows Military Museum. Not because I’m rich. Not because I’m wonderful. But because we owe our veterans more than you are willing to pay. Let me spend my retirement money to do the morally right thing. You haven’t the integrity to appropriate adequate taxpayer money to do the same on a national scale.

Filth doesn’t wait.

I need to vacuum today. When carpet dirt starts to form windrows along furniture, you have a problem.

The carpet looks like a herd of cats live here, there are so many clumps of Persian fuzz strewn over it. Not to mention paper shreds. Persians are static electricity generators, and all they need do is walk past the shredder to pick up enough paper shreds to make the whole duplex look like a copier room in an office.

Dust used to be a problem, both on things and in the carpet. I tried to convince myself it came from the bean elevator a few blocks south of me, but I knew that was hopeful thinking. One thing helped keep dust down: I changed to a virtually dustless cat litter because of how much dust the boys carried around on their hair.

Ugh! You know where that dust ended up! No wonder my sister-in-law won’t allow a litter box in her home, even though she and my brother always have critters around!

The change in litter improved house cleanliness beyond doubt, but there are other forces in play. Or playing. Dougy! Andy! I’m bringing out the vacuum! You made a lot of the mess, now you suffer the consequences!

I took a photo a few minutes ago (6:15 am), but in low light to help minimize how bad things really are…:

Picture 206 copy

Didn’t work. Once I brought the color and brightness up, I knew delay is not possible. This needs to be a short post. Filth doesn’t wait. It accumulates!

[That’s Andy in the upper left hand corner, taking a drink at the fountain. He looks innocent, but don’t you believe it!]