Waning Moon and Deer Talk

We are once again moving more 'stuff' into the house and arrived late. We headed out to dinner once we got here and then returned in the dark to be greeted by two deer (one a fawn) on the side of the road. When we got into the front yard, another deer at the side of the woods carefully and with confidence moved away from us in stops and starts staring at us as if he was trying to communicate. I decided to take the opportunity to talk to him and proceeded to explain that he was welcome in the yard, but it would be greatly appreciated if he restricted his diet to the wild food and not our planted ornamentals and vegetables. I don't know if he understood the English, but I am going to work on deer language.

I woke up at four this morning, perhaps eager and nervous to get my house cleaned and menus planned for company, or just my usual insomnia due to stress at work, but sitting outside on the deck and looking at the stars I entered the zen time zone. Far away from the land of deadlines and people needs and artificiality. Slipping into the quiet black velvet of the forest just as it is sighing itself awake, I have noticed that down here there is a showtime...somewhat predictable, but always mesmerizing. The frogs sing rhythmically to put me to sleep at night, they drift off and then the crickets are in full song in the early morning before the sun breaks the horizon.

This world goes on like this and wanes with the seasons and the moon. Even though everything is the same when I get here each weekend, it is all very different.

Calling all movie buffs--HELP

I am having my first real house guests down at the new house this weekend! Yay! Hurrah! EEEEK. (Yes, I did have daughter, son, son-in-law and son-in-laws folks last Christmas, but that doesn't count.) The people we have invited are old friends that we see so rarely. I am going to tell you a little bit about them (you get a peak) and then I am going to ask for some help. But you must respond before Thursday at 3:00 as I will be on my way down to the house. One couple we have worked with over the decades and after our car pool broke up we have not had chance to see them. They are Chinese American. He is a very traditional Asian husband and she is very perfect. She is sweet and diplomatic and smart---the kind of person you would like to be president of the United states. The second couple we have known for a long, long time but we rarely get together because everyone's lives are crazy. He is retired after being a leader in an office in the FDA and we met when he and his wife were graduate students with my husband. She is a lovely but also very smart chemist from Thailand who has lived in this country and raised her family here after meeting him in graduate school in Hawaii. OK, enough info. Now my stupid but important question, which you are totally not expecting. Has anyone seen the movie, "The Good German?" We have it from Netflix and I am thinking of showing it the night we are all together after we have talked each other out and are tired from spending the day on the boat. Is there anything that we would be embarrassed by? God am I so OLD asking this question, but I really don't want to see something like this with my good old-fart friends. Anyone? Anyone??

The Best Restaurant in the Area

Some days were are very very rich. Take this dinner we had down at the house just before we left to come back to the city.

THE MENU

Fresh croaker and fresh white perch stuffed with garlic, butter, onions and freshly picked sage leaves, salt and pepper and grilled in foil over the BBQ.

Box mix macaroni and cheese (we have a case of this stuff!)

A salad of freshly picked tomatoes--lemon boy and tangerine; a freshly picked cucumber, all topped with avocado, freshly picked basil and a topping of olive oil and vinegar.

All washed down with lemonade.

Yum.

PS--Yes, Croakers do"croak" but I try not to think about that when I am thinking of eating them.

Gutter cleaning and other dangers

Why installing gutters makes me depressed. No, it is NOT the cost.

We had gutter covers installed on the gutters of our new house over the weekend. We had been debating long and hard about what type of gutter protection we could use. We are in the middle of the woods and the trees constantly shed their branches and leaves like dandruff. The more famous brands like Gutter Guard which are the more substantial come with fees in the thousands of dollars which is like $15-25 a foot...this is just the cap not the installation of the gutter. We clearly saw this as a ripoff. So, we looked around for a gutter cleaning service to get their take on this.

My husband interviewed a number of folks and decided on a very nice young man who ran his own business. He was about 35-40 and quite nice in looks and personality. He explained that these permanent gutter guards still need to have gutter cleaning as wasps nests and small soot and seeds do get under the cap. They are harder to clean because of the substantial cap. I did some research on the internet and found the same information.

Therefore, we decided to go along with some snap-in screens that can be cleaned without removal or easily removed if major cleaning is required. Hubby is not doing this installation because there are parts of our roof that are THREE STORIES high due to the way the hill falls on one side.

The young man got busy cleaning the gutters which were full of stuff having not been cleaned since late last fall. My daughter was visiting and the young man saw her huge belly and they started talking about kids. He has four. Both my husband and I immediately thought about the dangers involved in this job where he has to move about on the roof and lean over or climb up large ladders. We asked about insurance for injury or accident. He said that he had a million dollars insurance for his customers (us): in case a ladder falls on us, I guess. But when he looked into insurance for himself it was almost $700 a month and he said he just couldn't afford that.

My heart stopped in my chest and I felt that I couldn't breathe well and after visions of my recent viewing of the movie Sicko flashed through my head I felt very very very depressed. I do not handle the vulnerabilities of nice hard-working people very well. I had to go inside and hide and I was depressed the rest of the day.

Thursday Thoughts #6--All About the News

1. There was a news special this week called "Hotties on the Hill." Yeah, it was all about the beautiful people that work in the Capital. Does anyone besides me find this really annoying, irritating and just plan STUPID!! I was guessing that there would be no one over 35 on the list, and while they didn't give ages, I was pretty much right. Clearly being sexy in politics can have its disadvantages if history proves anything to anyone who follows history. Most of those interviewed thought it was a 'career move' to be selected. Maybe I am just jealous because I was never placed on a 'hottie' list.

2. There was also a news item on vandalism of Hummers (the car - not the guy who sits behind you in church) in some local neighborhoods. Several vehicles were all but destroyed by what appeared to be metal bats (the sports equipment not some robotic air mammal). Theoretically these acts were linked to environmental passions. This was deduced by some graffiti scratched on the side of the car. I don't think breaking the law is going to win any points with those of us who really think the environment needs help.

3. The weather service keeps predicting major storms...never happening in my area. Must be REALLY localized stuff they have been talking about for days and days. My poor lawn is not even gasping anymore. It is just lying down and dying.

4. My television station has a blog site that asks you to vote for which news item you want to see. When did the decision on the news become a popularity contest voted on by the type of people that would vote on news stories? You're right, the voter is that guy who sits on his porch in the same T-shirt every afternoon watching the world go by and I am not interested in any news he is interested in. Or perhaps it is that high school student who wants more information on P.H. (I am not referring to the student's paper on battery acid, urine and drain cleaner.)

5. No, I don't think I will comment on the leaking of the latest Harry Potter book. I will leave this to anthropoligists and historians who will provide a better perspective 100 years from now.

6. OK, I admit that I am leaning towards John Edwards even though he is third on the ticket. That wife of his has faced death's door and is more honest than you or I could ever be and he loves her enough to let her take that ride. He has real values and is very intelligent and strong and has experience both in politics and negotiations. I would like to see a John Edwards/Barrack Obama ticket and I do consider myself a feminist. Feminists don't vote for women just because they are women.

7. I really think Soccer is a supercool sport (was a big fan when my son played it and my husband coached it---it is STILL soccer folks even if big bucks are not involved) and I thought it quite intriguing to watch onTV...more so than that smash and bam football. But I don't think Beckham and his exotic wife are helping...?

8. And this leaves me speechless (blog textless?).

9. On a final note my husband is currently negotiating a part-time job in Korea. He has a 50/50 chance of solidifying the project. After this news article I am thinking maybe spending part-time in Korea might be good for my health!

In Memory of Texas Highways and the Lady

I lived in Texas for a few years and was able to see what fields of bluebonnets looked like. They are breathtaking and worth a visit if you have not been in Texas during bluebonnet season. We annually covered a lot of highway space...either between Texas and Colorado or between Texas and Florida visiting relatives and showing off our children. Thus, we gained a great appreciation for beautiful highways. The photo above is of my daughter and son out in a field in Texas picking wildflowers. It is a 'faded photograph' but you can guess how lovely the flowers were if they intrigued children of that age. Lady Bird Johnson left a wonderful heritage. She was a true Southern Bluebell.

Thursday Thoughts #5

1) The absolutely best meetings take place in rooms with high ceilings and high windows where the sun hits your shoulders...like in church. Where thunder and lightning are all around but you feel safe. You feel good even if your mind is not on the task at hand.

2) Free career advice: when you are a female and 50 it is time to stop 'shadowing' the most dynamic people in the office and to stop telling them they are "Awesome." It is too late for that approach. Waaaay too late!

3) After you reach 60 there will be days when absolutely everything is going super well and you cannot keep your mind off the thought that some bad news must be just down the way...at least some of us feel this way. Optimists you need to share more (are you listening Colleen?).

4) I saw "Sicko" last night with friends. Michael Moore is getting really good a pushing peoples' buttons. Thank goodness he is funny because this is a tragic movie. You need to see it and then write your Congressional representatives to see where they stand. Most of the criticisms of the movie cannot hold a bandage.

5) I live in two places--at least for a short while longer. I can never remember which refrigerator has the Redi-Whip and this is really, really, REALLY irritating. I also have arguments with my husband about which things go in the little cooler back and forth! Do they address issues like this in marriage counseling?

6) A younger colleague who has a chip on her shoulder but looks up to me found a FEDEX envelope--unopened--on a desk in a corner of an unused cubicle. I remember how it got there. I was trying to help the team secretary juggling her duties and handed her this envelope I had been given and she threw it in the corner in frustration. I thought for sure that she would retrieve it when she calmed down. That was June 28. The Secretary has gone on a family emergency. Guess what was in the envelope...someone's official passport!

7) On another work note, two people came to me this week asking if they could use me as a reference in jobs they are applying for. Can you tell I work in a not-so-pleasant place?

8) Hubby left for Hawaii yesterday...I'm just a little jealous but also looking forward to a weekend all alone down at the house.

10) Millie commented on my new icon blog photo. I have not tweaked the picture...but I don't really look like that. It's the 20% of my face that looks alright. The rest of me looks normal.

Summer Succulence

The morning’s warm humid caress
Falls upon the child’s perfect arm.
The spicy smell of a vine’s blossoms
Halts all but our soft intake of breath.

Elegant petite red jewels
Catch the angled sunlight.
The promise of their rich sweetness
Barely lingers from yesterday’s memory.

This summer’s day gift
Will not endure beyond tomorrow
It is accepted with the reverence
And wonder that miracles deserve.

My Simple Holiday

My 4th was spent in an historic small town. If you look at the sign below you will see that these people are straightforward and honest.

A pending storm made us think the pilots would have a daisychain to untangle rather than enjoy the fireworks...but not so. Tornado watch and yet no touchdown, storm and hail warnings and we were spared!

Did I mention it was a small town? The traditional parade included a jazzercise class among other things (i.e. a Caribbean Santa Clause). Only in America can you get so funky on a holiday.

So, can you guess where I was? (Stop on over at Room Without Walls to see the cutest little fruit gobbler ever.)

The other George

Fourth of July (U.S. Independence Day) is good time to think about those with vision who helped build this country on principles, that while inconvenient for some of our leaders today, are the reason we are still around. Hubby and I took a trip to George's Washington's birthplace recently. This is not the more famous Mt. Vernon area but 80 acres set aside in Westmoreland County, Virginia. The old farmstead used to be 600 acres, and thanks to Washington's interest in surveying, the extent of the original farm, formerly belonging to his parents, is well documented. This is one of several farms owned by his family. While George grew up in a situation of reasonable wealth he was the only child that did not get a formal education, interestingly enough. There is nothing left of the original farm -- no buildings. They are still discovering where they think the original farm was located through an ongoing archaeological dig.

This building above in the distance was at one time thought to have been one of the original structures on the farm, but research indicates it is newer and was built after he died.

There is a visitor's centers and a small traditional garden in the back. Above is tobacco which was one of the primary economic crops during that time. They also grew grapes, and while we asked the volunteer which grape this was, we never could find out.

Below is cotton, another important crop for the South.

These historic places operate on a very tight budget, and if it wasn't for gracious volunteers like the woman below, they would probably be unattended acres of ground.

We walked down the hillside and along the Rappahanock River and then back up into a wildflower meadow that they had planted. It was full of butterflies and bees. The brochure also said that it was a great place for bird watching in the spring and fall and we made a mental note to return again during one of those seasons.HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY in one of the best countries in the world.

Reveling in My Genetics

The images set by television are so insidious in their effect on how we view ourselves and decide what is beautiful and what is not. Certainly in this American culture aging is not beautiful. We must plump the lines, pull up the sags, remove the spots, dye the hair, remove the protruding veins, and in general strive for Stepfordness in any way that we can afford. If you don't look good then you are not good. Of course this change is for those in their 40's (and idiots in their 30's). All the rest of us are over the hill and no amount of tweaking is going to bring us back into the mover and shaker fold.

I have succumbed to thinking about this calling vanity. I would like to pull up the sags so that I don't look so grumpy and tired. I am much happier and perkier than I look! But I am also cheap and cannot allow myself the expense for that vanity.

My husband and I were watching a show on television and there was some comment by one of the characters regarding baldness and thinning hair. The woman in the TV show deleted the male character from her "Candidates to Date" list due to his receding hairline.

I mentioned to my husband (who is almost bald) how I like guys with hair but also find baldness very sexy...which I do. I mean picture Jean Luc Piccard with hair? Puhleeze! I like my husband's wisp of silver that barely covers the top of his little pointed head.

My husband, who has never had any sense of vanity in his life, smiled and said:
"I revel in my genetics."

And shouldn't we all.

And the b(h)eat goes on

Waves of heat fry the brain
Drops of sweat fall like rain
Pulsing in and pushing out
Mother weather shows her clout
Humid air and growing weeds
Set the party for ticks with needs
Roses bow their withered heads
Too much scorch upon the beds
Poison ivy spreads its arms
Tabor rejects with much alarm
Take sweating tea in a tall glass
This too shall eventually pass

(I know, its pretty pathetic. But my brain is fried.)

The Longest Day

I can remember a long time ago when the start of summer meant sleeping late and then moving to the hammock outside on the lawn, still in my pajamas, with the first book from the top of the pile that I brought home from the library in my hand. And then I was lost for the rest of the morning in another world until my mother's patience wore thin and she had me doing errands or ironing or cleaning.

I miss the fresh joy of youth. The kick-up-the-heels giggle at long warm days at the small town swimming pool. I miss the bookmobile that stopped at the end of the road and, like a metal wrapped present with smells of musty paper, offered adventure and travel and more laughter. I miss the energy of chasing after the ice cream truck and licking creamy hands as the ice cream in the cones melted faster than could be consumed.

Feet were always dusty and dirty no matter how much we swam or bathed. We never wore shoes. Bikes were for racing and getting a cool breeze going in your face and then hitting the top of the hill and putting your feet up on the handle bars and coasting down the long road on the other side.

If there was errand money, I could spend the afternoon in the cool darkness of the movie theater, and then after the movie ended and the credits rolled being totally disoriented emerging in the bright light and heat of the day feeling as if I had just landed on some alien planet.

Now I only notice the details of the season in passing. I spend most of my time in a climate controlled office and hear the complaints of others about the heat. Here it is the first day of summer and the crepe myrtles are starting to bloom! They used to be the late July flowers. They were what I planted for late summer color when all the other plants had wilted or dried under the intense heat. Is this global warming? Or just because I live in the micro-climate of the city. Or am I just being forgetful?

Easy to like, hard to help

Stole this blog title from an article I was reading in the local village voice this past weekend. The article I read in addtion to "Full Fathom Five's Father's Day post motivated this blog entry. It really should be posted in my Room Without Walls blog, since it is about my outdoor rooms, but, I think after reading MLF's entry, other people are also good Samaritans when it comes to helping these slow and gentle creatures--although I don't think her turtle was a box turtle.

Anyway, her husband actually stopped traffic to help a turtle off the highway on Father's Day. And in perhaps not an odd coincidence, we did the very same thing the morning of the very same day. We were leaving the house and heading up the hill just beyond a blind curve. I made hubby put on the hazards even though the road was quiet, because the teenagers sometimes take that country road like a speedway. I dashed out to pick up this small box turtle and put him gently in the grass on the side of the road where he was headed.

We have at least two resident box turtles in our land at the house. (I guess when I finally move there full time I won't keep making the above a qualifying statement.) Anyway, one is particularly lovely with the brightest yellow.

Earlier in this same weekend when I was sitting in my easy chair I came across an article about box turtles. This is what I learned: Box turtles are rare in our area. They need a "mosaic" of environments to survive---more than just woodlands. Picking up the animal can be stressful and endanger its health. If you move a box turtle too far from its path or turn it in the opposite direction, documented research shows that it can become disoriented, dehydrated and eventually die. The author did say that you can pick up a box turtle on the highway and help it go in the direction it intended.

So, we did our good deed and maybe saved this rare fellow who might have been a father. So, now you know.

For the Birdwatchers

Here is something that may be of interest to those of you who find birdwatching more than a past time. The Birdwatcher's Guide to Global Warming

Thursday Thoughts #4

1) I still can't get the image out of my mind of hitting a brick wall and facing lots of unending silence when I retire. I am so busy these days it will be hard to wind down over the next year if I decide I can afford to retire. Going from everything to nothing is kind of scary. No challenges? What will I do?

2) I am on page 27 of "blink" by Malcolm Gladwell and thus far most intrigued.

3) I watched "Babel" last night. It was enjoyable, but could have been a lot tighter and dialog could have been clearer.

4) Did you also know that 90% of toys you buy for toddlers are battery operated? So much for environmental sustainability.

5) On a good environmental note, did you know that a salmon protein recovery venture in Alaska means they want to process fish waste into usable oil products. In an article from the Alaska Journal of Commerce "Lane estimates that Taku Fisheries processed about 10 million pounds of fish annually, and given about 35 percent waste, was grinding and dumping some 3 million pounds of fish wastes annually. "
Now where in pristine Alaska were they dumping all this, I wonder?

6) Did you know that Thomas the Train stories were originated by a minister and that some of the episodes are narrated by Alec Baldwin? Yes, THAT Alec Baldwin.

7) My daughter has moved into her next house and with the help of her parents and friends is really 50% done. (She still has lots of stuff at our house...she will be taking that back sometime soon, won't she, don'cha think?)

8) I spent much of Sunday afternoon unpacking daughter's boxes. I will wager that every single person that had a wedding (no matter how long ago and no matter whether it lasted or not) has at least one kitchen item that still has the bar code on it.

9) I am moving into my daughter's house at the end of September. Apartment rent here has increased another $300. She has a basement bedroom and small extra kitchen but is about an hour from my work. Ah, yes, another challenge in my life.

Change Doesn't Always Happen Life Story #10

Look at this shirt in the photo above. It looks pretty pathetic and used doesn't it? Looks like it has quite a history---maybe it was worn when painting a few walls, washing a boat or two? It will not surprise you when I write that my husband does not throw anything away if he thinks there may still be a use for it. It may surprise you that I know the exact age of this shirt --- 35 years old this July.

This shirt entered our lives in 1972 when we were living in Palau, Micronesia. It is a shirt made by my own hand. There are no shirt stores on Palau, or at least there were not any stores like that when we lived there. I was quite the little homemaker back then and for hubby's birthday and in anticipation of a potential trip back to the states in the fall, I made him a couple of shirts. I French seamed them if you notice that kind of thing. It still fits, if you note that kind of thing. It is stained but not falling apart.

I must have been a pretty good seamstress for it to have held up this long. I know that I can't sew that well today. Also, they made better quality thread back then. My husband is sweet to hang on to it this long. I am pretty sure that I don't have any clothes of my own from way back when...nor could I get into them. I think I weighed 105 at 5'5"!

Hanging on

I had another one of those awful days at the office. People coming to complain about stuff I have no control over. Other people defending their reason for not being able to do something that was technologically doable ten years ago. Finally someone concerned about public information I sent out that they didn't think should be public, although by law it is. And, of course, the 15th response to some budget defense for a budget that doesn't happen for at least three more years!

I need to retire. I am too old to get caught up in this carnival of agonies. Some days, and thankfully not every day, I HATE my job.

So I am going to do something about it! I am getting my boss to approve a shorter workweek, and my boss is amenable, being a short-timer. It will be at some financial cost , but I am so stressed that I think it will be worth it. It will also mean I have less clout with other staff, but I am tired of fighting battles.

I am asking the retiremnet people to crunch the numbers and if they are not too painful I am going to trade time for money. Anyone else done this?

After a day like today I will have several sleepless nights before I get back to normal.

Johnny Depp and My Grandson

What does Johnny Depp have to do with my grandson? Well, pay attention and I will draw the lines.

Hubby has been on travel for quite a while and so, like the typical person I am, I spend a lot of time channel surfing when he is gone. I can watch 15 minutes of something and then jump to something else for a short time and then onward to the next batch of schlock. Once in a while I do find something that I watch to the end. But without hubby, who approaches everything very linearly (I don't think that is a word.), I don't have to stay on one channel. Linear...lines?...yes, I am getting to drawing them, patience.

I was hanging ten with the remote when I came across the biography of Johnny Depp. He is one of the most interesting actors around these days as well as sexy in a very odd but acid-taking-intellectual way. I had to stop and watch the interview and the biographer's comments. While watching there is always this little voice in the back of my head that keeps saying "He's just BS-ing everyone. He isn't really like that."

As I watched I told myself (with hubby gone I talk lots to myself---even out loud many times), "He never steps out of character from interview to interview, so maybe he is true blue."

Then he said the following (which due to my age and memory skills I clearly paraphrase.)

"It all about family. I mean hanging out with them. If it is a 12-hour-day of Barbie, than so it is. That is what it is all about."

See, he IS BS-ing! I just spent an 8-hour day keeping my grandson out of trouble while his parents packed up their house for the upcoming move. We did 1 hour of trains, 2 hours of push the cart around the park/playground, 5 minutes of swinging, 1 hour of trains, 30 minutes of hide-and-seek, 30 minutes of attempted lunching, 30 minutes of watching High-5 on TV and 1 additional hour of wandering from room to room and finally a drive in which he fell asleep. The return from the car in 20 minutes meant he was still sleeping in my arms as I sat down on the sofa and parents assured me he had to stay there in my arms. So there was another 2 hours of napping--which in spite of my tone here really is heaven on earth.

Now, please try to counter my argument.

1) No child that I know does 12 hours of ANYTHING unless there are medical problems.
2) No parent or grandparent could remain sane if the child did 12 of hours of anything.
3) 2 hours of any activity while fun quickly becomes enough for any adult with a brain!

I want a video of Johnny Depp playing Barbie with his child for 12 hours on YouTube.

Some Pathogenic Thoughts

This may be a little graphic for some of you. Those of you who have reached that time in your life where nothing shocks may get a chuckle.

At our house we have been doing lots of 'brush clearing.' This is now a national cultural thing with the examples set by our illustrious leader, and my husband and I are eager to be the true patriots and try our skill. (Actually we have been doing this for years in many countries and states and probably considered ourselves somewhat the experts.)

You may remember my recent photo showing all the red lines on my sexy legs from the wild roses but not showing the poison ivy's wrath that appeared a few days later. I don't think our illustrious leader gets that down and dirty, because he never seems to have any scars or weepy sores to show off.

Anyway, since my hubby is partially retired he gets to play in the jungle (forest) more than I. I was able to wangle a working-from-the-house day today and was focusing on a nasty database entry at about 7:00 in the morning when hubby shuffled out of the bedroom scratching his you-know-what and looking around surprised the sun had come up already.

He started the conversation (after "Good morning.") with "I think I have a little problem."

"What?" I asked not taking my eyes from my laptop screen.

"I found a tick down here." He was pointing to that nether region which is so venerated by the male of our species.

Me: "Oh?" Now realizing I was going to have to take a work-break.

"Yeah. I got it out, but I think there is another one down in the same area. Can you take a look?"

"Can I get my camera? This would be great for my blog!"

"No." he groaned. Then he hit his head on the lower wall groaning again while he lay down on his back on the floor and assumed the position. The reason he hit his head is that men don't usually get to assume 'the position.' There he was with his pants down and his legs spread eagle and his hand on one of the two orbs pulling it aside. Sure enough there was something brown and round and small next to some red skin. It didn't look like it had legs or a head, though, but at my age, I can't see anything smaller than a pea.

"Do we have a magnifying glass down here at the house?" I asked.

He pointed to the paperweight on top of the desk where I had recently been working. I don't have the right computer to resize---so photo will be high res. How apropos is this crab, don't you think?

Well, to make a long story longer, I actually still had trouble pulling the little brown dot away from the skin and eventually realized it was a skin tag...amazing the pain a spouse will let you inflict when he thinks you know what you are doing.

Later at lunch I went out to weed the beds for about ten minutes and when I came back inside found that I had a number of bites on my legs. I mused out loud..."Great, now I will get both Lymes disease and West Nile virus. They will never be able to diagnose how I died."

Hubby smirked..."Maybe we could get Dr. House to help."

For those of you who do not watch TV this is an egocentric, genius, pathological doctor who solves the most ridiculous medical cases each week, usually after he inflicts lots of pain on the patient while belittling his attractive interns.

(My scenario would be, after he removes about three organs he would solve my diagnosis.)