Day 1 Without Facebook

 I got up this morning with Pain. He is so supportive. I couldn't find a better man than Pain. He wakes me up and he stays with me all day, holding my hands, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, and neck, and even rubbing my feet now and then. I feel him running his hands up and down my spine even now.

To be fair, this morning he was a little inattentive. He hung around only about an hour and now, he just wants to  hold my hands. I told him I have things to do and he seems to have backed off a bit, but I see him over in the corner just waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

Yes, my Pain is faithful and I can count on him being there every moment of my day. We read together, crochet together, write together. He's really pushy when we do yard work. Jumps right in. There is nothing he won't do with me. I can't remember life without him.

I've had my coffee and actually worked on some laundry. I'm up later than usual. Sarah is still at her other grandparents and I slept in. I have done that for a couple of days. With Sarah off from school, it is easier to fall into that habit. 

Today is my first day staying away from Facebook. I elected to take June off and not log on, check messages, or post other than blog posts that go up. I don't have to go to Facebook to post those. I suspect no one will really notice. I get a few blog readers here and there. 

To be honest, my instinct was to sit down with my coffee and check my mail as usual. Then, I usually go onto FB and surf the stream and check the group page, maybe play a game. When I first got on FB, that was it. After Jerry died, things changed.

I read a lot of the articles. Much of them are news related, oddities, anything science. That sort of thing. The problem lies in after that. I get caught up in some of the memes, and although I only play one gave on FB, there are those quizzes, which are really just games. So, I end up with hours a day on Facebook and nothing to show for it. 

Since Jerry died, I don't really hear from anyone anymore outside of Evansville except my aunt and uncle. I might get a family call every few months from one person. But I have a very large family. So, I told myself it was so I could keep in touch with my family. When I began to loose so much time "staying in touch" I realized how stupid that is. 

Why would it be necessary to spend time on Facebook wading through hundreds of posts about nothing to hear from people who could just as easily pick up the phone and talk to you for five minutes? Or who could try and visit you once in a while? 

Why would any family think that posting about their trip to Wal-mart was "staying in touch"? Posting "I'm at McDonald's" is not sharing yourself with people who love you. Telling the world you're at Starbucks having a latte is not relating to anyone. It does pretty much tell us you're silly extravagant but its your money.

That's not friendship. That's not love. That's not a relationship. 

Someone posted an article by a  young woman who withdrew from Facebook. She explained how it was robbing her of a relationship with God. She was so young, newly  married. And she woke up. And she woke me up. I realized that I have no desire to live my life checking my phone to get the latest on FB. It is why I don't use that app. I'm not living in Facebook. 

Here I was sitting, doing nothing, waiting for a piece of someone's life to be "shared" with me. For hours, days, weeks, months, years. I was foregoing life. I didn't go anywhere. I stopped calling folks. I stopped reading much. I wasn't getting any writing done. I wasn't praying enough. I wasn't reading my Bible enough. Real life was slowing, coming to a screeching halt. For Facebook. No, thank you. 

I love my family. I  have some new family members I've gotten closer to because I could text to them and interact with them on Facebook. It is totally unsatisfying. I have some new nephews I so wish I could meet and hold and love. They look so adorable.

Facebook doesn't build family relationships. They do not know me. May never know me. Other than a photo on Facebook. There will be no real sadness if some of us dies. We don't know each other.  I miss being so far from family and never seeing or hearing from them. I had a great family. We used to plan get-togethers and arrange reunions. 

That is not who I am. That is not who I want to be. It is time to focus on real people rather than photos online.

It was hard for about 30 minutes this morning to not get my fix. I suspect I'll have moments when I want to see photos, read about someone's happiness, and "talk" to someone. But I used to do that every day of my life without Facebook. 

I truly love the connections I have there. I've met lots of new people who I wouldn't expect to be involved in their every moment under normal circumstances. I like reading some of the things that happen in their lives. I like sharing things with them. I like seeing the photos. If I could travel where they are I am certain we could have lunch together.

But at the end of the day, Facebook is just a newspaper. It is not relationships. A smiley face isn't human. There is something about a smiling human face that gives such comfort. There is something about real hugs that soothe the soul. There is something about hearing "I love you" rather than a heart symbol, that makes life much more bearable. 

Where is life? I have a group of great friends I get to see about twice a month. I have a couple of family members I see regularly. When we're together we have the best time laughing and talking and sometimes we go places together. I get to sit across the table and listen to the writers carry on and do you know that is just the best feeling. Listening to other people laugh is so amazingly relaxing. I watch Sarah running in the yard and it is unleashed joy and hearing her giggle is like wine. 

Will I go back to Facebook at the end of the month? Will I be so socially deprived that I have to log back into a false life? I hope not. 

I hope that there will be more read books, completely written stories, good times with my girl pals and writers' group and giggles with Sarah. NaNoWriMo is coming and I'll have time to plan better. The yard needs things done and Pain and I will be able to get out there a bit. I can start walking regularly and more. I can reestablish uninterrupted devotional time.

Life is waiting, but it won't wait forever. I hope that by the end of June, real life will have reasserted itself and filled the vacancies.

We Went Down To Georgia

 All times are Central despite our crossing over the time line to Eastern.

On Wednesday, we left left at 9 a.m. going down to Georgia. It was a cold day and the weather gloomy. We expected to arrive by 5 p.m. However, the expected 7 hour trip became something much longer. We didn't get there until nearly 8 p.m. We hit construction at the junction of I-65 and I-24 in Nashville, as we always have for the last four years. That slowed us about half an hour. Then, we were 34 miles from Chattanooga when traffic came to a virtual stop. If we moved at all it was between 10 and 30 miles an hour. It took us 2 hours to move 34 miles. As we rounded the last curve we saw the cause of the delay.

On the left hand side of the east bound highway the median was a large grassy section that slopped up to the interstate going in the opposite direction. An east-bound trailer hauling apples had turned over. I guess his load shifted as he rounded the curve too fast on the mountainous road. At any rate, there were thousands of applies lying in a pile next to the road. They'd managed to take all the empty boxes and pile them up on the incline of the median. I've never seen so many apples and was very tempted to roll down the window and ask for a sack full. I resisted. We continued on our way and made pretty good time from that point on. But then, it was already after 5 p.m.

We arrived without further incident. I did have a couple of hours where it felt as if I was riding with two five year olds, rather than a 35 year old and an 8 year old. Their voices were beginning to take on a similar whine. I had no cheese and wished again for apples.

Checking out the dolls.

Our Thanksgiving holiday was a lot of fun. Sarah was so excited to be there that she went from one to the other hugging and kissing them for some time. Poppy and Uncle Dale (who is actually Aunt Phillis) had a grand time with Sarah during the morning. A few times Poppy and Sarah appeared to be about the same age and they were having the best time of all. 


This actually worked in my favor. I was able to sit and relax and watch. They had decorated the house for Christmas and Sarah had presents under the tree. She got to open one gift a day and she loved that. 

Giving Amy a little attention

Sarah found my cousin's dolls and my aunt pulled them all out for Sarah to enjoy. Generally she doesn't care for dolls but these seem to captivate her and she played with them the whole time she was there. 

We celebrated communion at my Aunt and Uncle's house Thanksgiving morning. That was nice. I'd never seen that done before but I would encourage anyone to start that tradition.

Dinner was to be at 5 p.m. at my cousin, Dan's house. My aunt and I went early to help out, although, as it turned out, I was more of a referee than anything else. I sat at the bar and watched as the bout progressed.

Cousins: Janie, Me,
& Alexis

Dan and my aunt did all the cooking. Please do not ask them who did more or who the best cook is. I listened to the debate for about two hours. The argument was never settled to either of their satisfaction. I remain neural, although I felt a bit like I was back in the car with the 5 year olds.

I can vouch that both are excellent cooks . All the food was good... except the green beans and that is another argument that was not settled but rather depends on who you ask. Nothing was burned and there was tons of smoked turkey, ham, pork chops resembled steaks, dressing, Ford hook beans, potato salad, broccoli rice in a cheese sauce, mac and cheese, sweet potato casserole, and dessert. 

L-R: Uncle Dale, Garrett,
Aunt Phillis, Alexis, Me, Mike.
Front: L-R: Harper, Sarah

I may have forgotten something  but no one went away hungry. We took food home, except for green beans, and ate it the next day. It was still good.

There were probably a dozen of us at dinner. I didn't count but someone did take photos and I'm sure I'll get some more of those later. There are a couple here. I have no idea why Dan wasn't in the family photo. Probably cooking. Which segues into our next item of interest.

Friday we just spent time back at my aunt and uncle's house. No shopping for me. I don't do Black Friday anyway so wasn't disappointed. Sarah was able to play more and we even braved the outside. It had warmed up and was a beautiful sunny day in the back yard.

We debated coming home on Friday but I was concerned about the traffic issues on Black Friday. After Wednesday's problems, I wasn't in a hurry to deal with that again so soon. We waited and it was a good decision.

The traffic was not a problem except around Chattanooga and Nashville and even that was so tame Mike was able to navigate without any help at all. He's doing much better at it with each trip. 

We're always a bit nervous coming over the mountains. Not because the roads are bad, but the diesel trucks are problematic. They move too slow or too fast and you don't want to be in front of or behind them. But there isn't any place to go, so you bite your nails and stay as clear as possible. However, this time, there were not nearly as many as I've seen on weekdays.

Sarah slept for a couple of hours in the early morning, which made her trip less stressful. We stopped at Cracker Barrel at Clarksville, TN around 11 a.m. for lunch. This is about two hours from home. Sarah likes to shop there. She got a Ty Baby owl named Owlivier. He's rather cute but we now have a fairly well rounded zoo. She brought a whale back from Uncle Dale's garden. I bought another cape, a red one trimmed in black faux fur. Sarah said I look like Big Red Riding Hood. We are not amused... very much.

We finally were on the last leg of our journey. After we left we more or less counted the miles. I slipped the camera over the back seat to see if Sarah was excited about getting close to home. I'm not sure....

We made it back to Evansville from Atlanta around 2 p.m. Considering we got up at 5 a.m. and were on the road by 6 a.m. , we made relatively good time. Now, I'm going to bed. I hope you've all had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Miscellany

What an odd start to the week. I'm totally zoned out for some reason. I called in sick. I've got some kind of stomach bug. Grumpy stomach all day and frequent potty breaks. Not a lot of fun but it hasn't been too terrible. I've done a lot of reading of blogs and articles. Finally decided I should post something on my own blog but found my mind is just mush for some reason. I feel like someone cut the mooring line and I'm adrift on an isolated sea waiting for someone to come along and tow me back to shore.

Tomorrow begins the July 2014 Camp NanoWriMo. I'm rather excited but this mush brain is not a good sign. I am hoping that the Mibbit online write-ins are going to be well attended and helpful. They were last November.

My son and his wife came on over the weekend to pick up Sarah for the summer. Although I enjoyed seeing them and getting to hear him preach for the first time on Saturday night, it was also a sad time as I will not see my Sarah for five weeks. I'm sure I'll be fine but already, my day is dimmer and the summer seems a bit less interesting. By the time she returns, school will be starting and I'll only see her as time permits.

I've been doing laundry today as well. I didn't do any over the weekend becasue of company. At this way I'll have all bedding and towels washed before the writing starts and I won't have to worry about it.

I'm still worried about the looming retirement. Things are going to get very tight. But I'm hoping it won't be as bad as my imagination. Things seldom are but it is those outside of seldom that has me worried.

Posts about Camp activity will be on Writing My Life Away so I can keep things straight. Ofen have to remind myself "personal journal", "writing blog", "praise blog" so I can keep it straight. I'd just as soon lump it all together but for some reason, it doesn't work well. Just as well. But this blog thing is out of control. At least I'm writing all manner of stuff.

Going now. I'm going to check on some other forms of employment for September. Don't want to go back to work anywhere until mid September. That gives me time to relax, recover, and recoup.

Be careful outside. It is 92 here and that's just the temp, not the heat index.

A Compilation of Beautiful Days

Remembering The Rules

Today I was reading a set of penalties posted on Facebook for parents to use with their kids. It focused on doing good things to earn points to revoke grounding. It was a brilliant idea. It reminded me of the set of "rules" we posted on our refrigerator for our sons when they were teenagers. When they got in trouble they had to read them and specifically focus on the item that applied to their situation. It was posted on the fridge for years and I remember when they finally moved out, I took it down and the paper was all stiff and the ink faded but it was still legible.

As I read over them again today it reminded me that I wasn't a terrible parent. I did do some things right and now, years after I wrote and posted these rules, I can look at my sons and realize that despite their flaws, we didn't do a terrible job. If I compare the positive with the negative I can see that something got through to them. I see caring and compassion men who show respect for others, well, most of the time. No one is perfect here. They love their country and respect its laws and as far as possible, its leaders. They believe in the rights of others and when those rights are infringed, they are incensed. They recognize the dangers of tyranny and want to fix it. 

They love God. This has always been so important to us. We saw how the world was failing and we feared that they would stray far away from their faith and never find their way back. And they did stray but we also watched, with great fear, as they struggled to return to that faith and to reinstate the values we tried to instil in them. We often feared the struggle would end in failure. Their dad is dead now but I know, were he alive, he'd feel so relieved at some of the changes in his sons. He'd be so proud of them.

I am blessed with good boys. There are things I'd change if I could but they became who they are because of who we were and how we raised them. And if there is something I don't understand about them or can't accept, I have to deal with that.  As adults, it is up to them to fine tune their character if it needs it. I hope we gave them the tools to do that. Reading those rules and seeing the results of our work, I think we might have done. I hope so.

Rules of Respect

1. Show courtesy to everyone. Please, Thank you, Sir, M’am, You’re welcome, and excuse me, are all keys that open doors. Everyone likes respect. You get what you give.
2. Ask first. Do not take something that is not yours. If you “borrow” without asking, it is stealing. Get permission
3. Wait your turn. Do not interrupt others when they are talking. Or, if you are not part of the conversation and need to speak to someone, “excuse me” is an appropriate way to get their attention if you have waited for several minutes.
4. Know who’s in charge. If you see a need or problem, do not give orders – find the person in charge and politely mention the problem. If you have not been put specifically in charge, allow the person in charge to give the orders.
5. Refuse to argue. Ask if you can quietly discuss the problem. The Bible says “a soft answer turneth away wrath.” Usually, it is hard to yell at someone who won’t yell back. After a while they get tired. Remember, sometimes it doesn’t work, especially if you have wrecked the car or broken curfew.
6. Allow the other person to be right. No one is right all the time but neither are they always wrong. YOU could be wrong. It is more embarrassing to loudly declare you’re right and be proven wrong than it is to keep your mouth shut and let others loudly declare when you are right.
7. Offer help. If someone is ill, physically unable to do a chore, or simply needs an extra pair of hands, offer to help. Do not wait to be asked. Offer kindly. If your help is refused, say nothing and allow them to do it themselves. If asked -- give your help to the best of your ability.
8. Respect other’s privacy. Do not ask questions about someone’s personal life unless it will affect you personally. For example: You do not need to know about someone’s sex life unless you plan to have sex with them. Do not tell secrets you have been told unless there is a danger involved or a crime. Do not listen in on others’ conversations uninvited. Do not tell something you have overheard in a private conversation. Would you want someone to tell your secrets?
9. Do unto others. If you want kindness, give it. If you want love, give it. If you want help, give it. If you want friendship, give it. If you want understanding, give it. If you want fairness, give it. If you want truth, give it. If you want joy, give it. If you want peace, give it. If you don’t want any of this, do nothing and you’ll get nothing.
10. Overlook the jerks. There will ALWAYS be someone who defies all of the above. And because of it, no matter what you do, it will never be enough or it will always be wrong – to them. Walk away and smile. If you have done your best and followed the rules, you have won anyway. Always, always, always let them go before you. When the axe falls, it will be their head that rolls.

You have been taught a set of values. If you choose to abandon these, we will not avert the consequences of your actions. If you get arrested, we will not bail you out; if you catch a disease, we cannot cure you or even get expensive medical care. Adult behavior requires adult responsibility. You are on your own when you set your own values and rules of behavior. If they conflict with our moral code, you must move out and support yourselves. We will still love you but we made our choices before you were born. We have not changed our minds since then and will not do so now. As a result, we may lose you but if we give in, not only will we lose you but we will also lose ourselves.

Out of the Ashes

Nearly every mother faces an identity crisis when our children grow up. And believe me, it is every bit as profound as that faced by our children when they cross the threshold to maturity. I'm not sure it isn't worse.

My friend, Chris D. made a poignant post in her blog, A Parent Spectrum Disorder, today. She still has adolescents at home but the day is fast approaching when she will have an empty nest. As I wrote my comment to her, I realized it was not just meant for Chris. There was something in it that tickled my ear and I was forced to think about it.

"It is the tragedy of motherhood that we sacrifice ourselves on that altar. We make ourselves literal burnt offerings. They grow up, leave, and we lie in the ashes, forgotten. We have to resurrect ourselves. And when your spouse dies, it is even worse because there is no one to help lend a hand if you need it. Grab your husband and make your life what it was before children. You can. You must. It ends too soon to waste time."

Resurrection. I'm not God. I have no real idea of how to do that. My children left home years ago. They've come back a couple of times since but that was different. I was dealing with adults who didn't want anything but a place to sleep, eat, and no rules. Once on their feet, they were gone again. At first it was hard to deal with adult children but after a few months things balanced out, rules were established in spite of them, and we were fine. It helps if your kids like you a little but that's another post. It is nice to know mine actually like me a lot.

I think even when they come back you fall back into the Mom role. You aren't yourself. You're the person you became when you heard that first cry. You're the healer, comforter, protector, accountant, landlord, chief cook and bottle washer. When they're born your world became this tiny place initially filled with dirty diapers and regular feedings. It expanded to regular bedtime battles and legos in the dark. From there it expanded to managing multiple schedules and shuttle duty, with binding up the bloodless wounds of teenagers. Then, rather sooner than you were prepared for, it was over. The house was empty, the laundry manageable, and you have no idea what to eat or how to cook for two. And when you looked, you didn't recognize yourself in the mirror.

My husband died and we had never really figured it out. How could we go back 30 years and be the fun loving duo who looked for exciting things to keep us interested in one another. We were looking but ill health and death interrupted us and before we truly got a chance to find that place again, he was gone, forever altering my perception and my world. 

Resurrection is no different for me than for any other mother. If anything, it is harder. Not only do we mold our personality around children, before them, if you were fortunate enough to have a spouse, we molded it around a spouse. The "two become one" is no joke. In a good relationship, you do become a single unit. Children further cement this and your identity shifts farther away from who you were single. 

So here we are, sans children. And we look in that mirror and we see lines that weren't there, shoulders that used to be straighter, necks that were once slender, too many chins, bags under eyes that once sparkled in laughter and now... well, sometimes they glitter in anger. We look...and a total stranger stares back.

I thought, once past the worst of the grief, I'd find ways to put the past behind me. I just knew... was positive... if I survived it, I'd be me again. I didn't realize that it would be impossible. Today, when I read my own comment to Chris the truth dawned on me. That girl, the one who laughed so easily, found excitement in everything she did, and was so creative... she was long gone. I am suddenly faced with the realization that I have to recreate myself. I have to become someone else. 

Who am I? What am I supposed to do now? For five years I've tried to figure this out. At first I thought I knew but with half of me missing, nothing fit. I no longer had an identity. The stranger in my mirror is truly someone I do not know. 

I forced myself to find ways to become involved in things I loved. I started crocheting again. I started sewing but neck problems put a crimp in that. I became a local Municipal Liaison for National Novel Writing Month and I started a local writing group and I connected with dozens of people online who loved writing. I began to write more. There was a sense that I was moving toward something. I had no idea what.

The last three years I've been too sick to care much who I am. Each day has been pretty much a struggle to get up, put in 8 hours and come home. The sense of forward motion stopped dead. There is still this woman who stares back at me from the mirror. Her eyes still glitter. I realize she's fairly angry that life is throwing painful things at her. She still lies in ashes.

So, although I can't prevent the slings and arrows of life, I must keep trying to find who I am. Stopping now is unacceptable because ... well, in truth, that is who I am. And maybe, one day, I'll wake up and look in that mirror find that, like the Phoenix, I have emerge from the ashes a completely new person.

A Month of Stuff

It has been a busy and rough couple of weeks. I finished NaNoWriMo four days early. In the past I've finished as early as a couple of days but not four days. It was a nice feeling, in addition to getting the 50k goal. I couldn't have done it, I suspect, without the online write-ins we had over on Mibbit.

We had to move Mike over the course of two Sundays. The only common day off we share is Sunday so it had to be done. One guy showed up to help him on the Sunday before the holiday weekend. They moved everything into my garage. We left the boxes and small items in the old unit until Thanksgiving weekend. Then, they let him start putting things in the unit on Wednesday. It was very good of them and saved us a bundle in truck rental and time.

Thanksgiving I spent alone. Mike and my sister worked. Mike and I spent Friday cleaning and moving stuff from his old place. My aunt and uncle drove up from Atlanta on Friday. That's a very long trip for them. They're in their mid-70's. I'm not that old and driving down to visit is rough on me.

Saturday, my aunt and I finished the cleaning up the old place while Mike finished moving the boxes and other small items to the new one. On Sunday we rented the UHaul pickup again and started moving stuff from the garage to his new place. My uncle took care of Sarah on Saturday and Sunday for us to move Mike. So, here we are, my sister, my aunt, my ex-daughter-in-law, me, and Mike. We left my aunt and sister at his new place putting away the stuff Mike had moved on the car while me, Becca, and Mike used the U-Haul to move furniture. My sister and aunt were neither able to do that lifting. I had no choice but at least Becca came to help.

Sunday night I had to pay the piper. I had severe leg cramps in both legs and sciatica in my lower back, probably causing the cramps. I didn't sleep much, if any. I got up on Monday barely able to move. My aunt and uncle left around 7:30 and I took Sarah to school. I could barely walk I hurt so bad and although I was dressed for work, I called in sick and went back to bed. I spent most of the day lying on the sofa sleeping. My back was moderately better Tuesday morning.

As a result of all my efforts, I've been slammed with swollen hands, knees, and feet resulting from severe inflammation. RA at its worst crept up on me on Sunday night. My hands and feet felt as if they were stinging (the same feeling you get when you run water that is too hot on your hands) and painful to flex my fingers. . That's inflammation. I'm tired. I want to just curl up and go to sleep. I've been having an escalation of these issues for a few months now.

Instead, I went to work every day. Today I had an appointment with my RA doctor. She's going to give me a steroid pack and start me on metheltrixate. I see no alternative. I've tried to avoid it but I'm in such pain right now that it is just too much.

Today, I just want to come home and close my eyes. For several hours.

Aching Calves & Brain Tweeks

Is is only Tuesday night? Really?

I've had severe pain in both calves for three days and I have no idea why. I have not walked in at least a week because I've either been exhausted, it rained, or I've been so busy I didn't get time. Sunday I had trouble walking. I could hardly walk yesterday and today, for most of the day, it was horrible. I see my primary doctor on Thursday and will address it with her. The weekend was rushed, as you should have read in a previous post. So, here we are at Tuesday. The only positive is Friday is two days away and vacation a few weeks.

Mike's birthday was Sunday and we all went to church and then to lunch together. Both my sister and I had diarrhea afterward. We both had clams. We eat at this restaurant a lot and never had this issue. Very odd... and unpleasant. I still had a problem on Monday.

I bought Mike a new smart t.v. for his birthday and he bought himself a stand for it. Dave and I went over to help him set up.I wish I had not. I don't want to go into detail but let me just say that the people on Hoarders are real people. They exist. I went back to Mike's tonight to help him get started cleaning up. This is going to take awhile. It is very stressful.

I'm tired and about to go to bed but I have spent some time tweaking my writing blog tonight. It is an old blog that started life as something else.  I like what I'm doing with these writing challenges the group has done. I'm writing more these days than I have in a long time. My efforts to limit my time on less productive pursuits has allowed me time to walk and the walking has stimulated my brain. I have to tell you that the cemetery walks have begun to feed me ideas and that's always a fun prospect. I feel more ready for NaNo than I've felt in several years. Now if I can just get the kick-off set up!

So, with that, I'll say good night.

It Didn't

The day is drawing to a close and it has not been a good day. I got up around 8 a.m. and the day was blinding sunlit and the air was a comfortable 77 degrees. I had a terrible headache but I went to walk anyway, thinking that maybe the exercise would take the pain out of my neck and annihilate the headache.

It didn't.

Becca asked me to take her to work. So, I left the cemetery around 9:15 and stopped at McDonald's to get juice and a sausage biscuit. I thought since I'd had only a half cup of coffee maybe some food would help get rid of the still raging headache.

It didn't.

I took an Imetrix when I picked up Becca. After dropping her off I came home and got an ice pack. I lay down with the ice pack wrapped around my neck, along the left side of my head with the end of the towel wrap over my eyes. I thought after a hour it would ease off.

It didn't.

Sarah was with me and she lay there and played with  my hands for over an hour. She eventually went to do something on her own. I must have gone to sleep. I actually think she woke me several times but eventually I must have been too deep to hear her. I woke up at one and felt as if I'd been steamrolled. My head didn't hurt but I felt as if my brain was pumped full of fog and I was clumsy and kind of punch drunk.

At least the head didn't hurt.

Sarah and I went to the store to buy some fruit but that's pretty much all the action I've had since early morning. I've done nothing all day but sit, like a fungus on a log, doing nothing. I watched some movies, read a little, and finally decided to write a blog.

Well, I tried. Sarah is bored and can't entertain herself. I've never understood children who can't entertain themselves. If I'd relied on someone else to entertain me, I'd have been really bored.

Anyway, we came out here onto the patio. I haven't been out in months because the mosquitoes got really horrible and I started walking in July. So it was usually too late by the time I was done. Frankly, I'm still not feeling very well, just really sluggish and well, I always say a really bad migraine leave me with a hangover.

Dave and Sarah came out to join me and they played ball for a bit. She now wants to play chase.

You know, once again I realize that this lovely yard was meant for children. There are none now, and not likely to ever be anymore. This week I've been contemplating selling the house again. I don't know where I'd go. I really can't rent cheaper than what I pay here if I just count living expenses. But the repairs are what tip the scale. Once again I'm having plumbing problems and I am just not wanting to fork out the hundreds of dollars it would take just to get them to do the simplest of task. Frankly, we've always had minor plumbing problems here. Whoever added the extra bath and added the laundry room just didn't do something correct.

So, I keep pondering a sale.

I need to go in now. I put repellent on to keep the mosquitoes off.

It didn't.

Today's News 4/10/13

Warm Monday

If you have been reading this blog long you know I have a nice little nook of a patio in my back yard where the house forms an L. It is a favorite spot of mine on warm evenings. This evening I'm sitting here enjoying the 71 degree weather. It was not a terribly sunny day but it was a warm day. For that I'm grateful.

I'm reading these books that I downloaded over the last year... no not all 400+. But I found several inspirational ones over a period of time and have never looked at them. Mainly because my reading taste are eclectic and I have a wide variety of things to read and I simply chose something else to read instead. I'll get to them all eventually. I started one yesterday and finished it today. I started the other today and will probably finish it tomorrow. They're relatively short. However, what I'm finding is they all are delivering the same message. Usually when I hear something three times I know it is important. So, I'm paying attention.

The only annoyance to this evening is my son's  ex-wife is being abusive again via text messages. It is a constant stream of cursing him, threatening him and abusive language. She wants to take their daughter and move away. However, they have joint custody and in Indiana, she has to get permission from the court to do this. He would not be able to see his daughter if she does this. He refuses to agree. So the end result is, she knows it probably won't happen and she's attempting to get him to threaten her or retaliate in kind. He just isn't that kind of person and has not done so. It is terrible because poor Sarah is a victim in all this. I had hoped her mother was a better person than all this. I was wrong. I love her like my family but her behavior is just atrocious.

I have pretty much realized this week that I can't continue to deal with certain things or people. I've got to find a way to get past it.

I'm done now. I'm going to do something else. I hope Tuesday is a pretty day.

Powder Room Epiphanies

I was in the bathroom.... hold on... everyone does this. It isn't some shrine or weird place of punishment, unless you follow certain people. Anyway, while I was there it suddenly occurred to me that my life has been divided into a strange set of sequences that has been punctuated by some pretty awful things. I'll give you the synopsis cause by now I know you're indecently curious.

First phase began with my birth and went from 1956 until 1974. I was 17. This phase ended in death. My life totally shifted to another level and place. I don't think it ever occurred to me how radical that was until today. I mean, it was terrible but I never really saw it in this light before. I went from being a young girl in her late teens to a wife in her late teens dealing with the death of her parent and learning how to live with a person I'd known only weeks. No girl should have to be without her mother, particularly on the day she marries, or has her first child five years later. The shift was so profound that years later whenever I miss Mama I'm nearly inconsolable. I'm devastated all over again.

The second phase of my life was from my marriage 1974 until 2009 and culminated, again, in death. My husband suffered a violent heart attack and died as I tried to save him. This wasn't just a shift from one phase to another. This was a violent blow that simply slammed me into a whole other reality without any warning or time to prepare. I still suffer from post traumatic stress.

I thought Mama dying in a clinical setting of a hospital when I wasn't there was horrible. She wasn't coming home and I didn't get to say good-by. I'm left with an image of her unable get up, write, or to speak except with her eyes and being fed through a tube. At 17 this is horrible. And yet, I have to say that my second contact with death was worse than any nightmare I've ever experienced. Being wakened from a sound sleep to your husband thrashing and having him breathe his last breath in your face is an image you won't shake quickly, if ever.

So, in my tiny powder room, I realized that I'm well into the third phase of my life and if it follows the pattern, this won't end well. This is not a happy thought but let's be practical. And truthful. Looking at the pattern and knowing what I know, this is the reality of it. The ultimate end to all things is death.

Where does this leave me? Probably right where I was before. Sitting in the bathroom having my eyes opened to things I'd rather not think about. And getting a fairly clear revelation as to why I struggle with depression fairly regularly. If the high points of your life always end in violence, and believe me, my experience of death is not warm and fuzzy, but if they always end in this manner you're going to be dealing with gremlins regularly.

So, I need to stop beating myself up about feeling this way too much. I've been feeling guilty about feeling bad. It isn't like I've had what the average consumer would term a normal life. The stories I could tell, and probably will some day, are not pretty. Living with an alcoholic was not fun. And still, I was a good kid who never did drugs or smoked or drank or partied. I was a good mom, faithful wife, and caring sister. I wasn't perfect but despite the awful things I've seen and the mistakes I made, I've turned out o.k. I need to stop saying, "Get over it."

The key now I think is try to make this next phase, presumably the final one, last as long as possible and hope that it contains more joy than the two previous ones. For now, at least, it doesn't.

What do you do for the third act?

Just One Touch

Hi....

Why I'm still up is simply beyond my comprehension. I'm so tired. You know how tired I get sometimes. For most of the evening I've been reading blogs and other stuff. I sat and watched .... some show on my computer... I think I only watched one but at the moment, I'm not sure. Then I got up to shut the system down, only to check email and posts one more time... cause we all do that.

Anyway, I just clicked on my Timeline and there you were, smiling out at me, those wonderful blue eyes sparkling just for me. I remember that moment clear as a day. I could read your mind just by looking at your face. It was all there. I remembered. And then, in one blinding flash my whole being screamed with one phrase... I just want touch you. You hands, your arms, you face. Just to put my hands on your cheeks and feel your warm skin and to breath in the scent of you. The sound of that silent scream washed over me like a raging torrent and I was blinded by waves of tears and I gasped for breath with muffled sobs. I buried my face in my hands because I could not bear the flood.

I know...melodramatic. I always was, wasn't I. I'm not so much anymore, except about you. I suppose I should be embarrassed, even though you'd say not.

But you still take my breath away. Every time I see you, I simply can't breath. There is this place between breathing in and breathing out where everything seems to catch. Sometimes, I'm afraid I won't be able start breathing again.  I wonder sometimes... no, I wish that you knew it, before... and now... that you do that to me.

I don't know if you ever knew it.

I only know that I just want to touch you for one moment, one more time.

A Crash Course

Finally, I think I've got my computer back online! I really think it was about ready to crash.  It has taken me the better part of two days to restore and re-install all the updates. I still don't have a lot of software back on but it's OK I think. Most of that I can do as needed. If I don't use it, why put it back on here. I'm leary about putting my writing back on it. Yes, I back things up but you know, after awhile you have so many copies you don't know what's what.

I am exhausted and I did nothing but sit and download updates. Why don't they just put them all on a disk so we can buy it every six months and be done with it? Seriously. The disk are about five bucks! And would help the postal service.

I have to say the computer is running much better and the stuff that wasn't working, even after the repair, are now apparently fine. Nasty bugs.

My one complaint is that Avast, my virus software, just released a new version and it totally shut down my system. I nearly had to restore it a second time. I tried it twice and then searched their website. Apparently I'm not the only one having the problem. I kept a check on the site for two days and someone finally posted that they had AMD graphics and that it appeared to be a conflict with the software. They never got a response from tech but I have AMD graphics. So, I'm using MS Security Essentials for the moment. I'm hoping that Avast will recognize the issue and correct it and release a fix. I have used Avast for over 6 years and never had a problem. I don't trust any virus software made by Microsoft and I'm annoyed by the thought I'll have to purchase one with a annual subscription!

I can tell you one thing, I'm going back to my old method of cleaning the slate every 6-12 months. It may be a couple of days out of my life but is still the best way to insure you keep things running smoothly, and I don't care what anyone has to say about it. That's a lot cheaper than the $150 repair bill that didn't fix it completely. Not their fault, really but think about it. I've never had a computer repaired by anyone else in the 25 years in which I've owned one. No, never. And my computers last about 10 years.

Now, I'm going to get ready for bed. I'm really exhausted. Did I say that already? Oh, yes. I did. See, it's true! I'm ready to crash.

A Lack of Sleep

It has been a horribly long day. For the uninformed, from 6:30 Monday morning until 10:30 Tuesday night I had no sleep. I had a rash, according to local medical experts. Ah, the marvels of modern medicine. So, I was scared to sleep all day Tuesday for fear I would not sleep Tuesday night, something that did not present a problem at all as it turned out.

They gave me a cream to be applied every 4 hours and it works well to lessen the itching. No idea what it is.... long name ending in .. sone. Sounds like a steroid to me. They gave me some pills that the insert reported would cause dizziness, blurred vision, and assorted other frightening reactions. It suggested I not drive while taking. I felt it was good advice. I took it when I went to bed. The bottle said 1-3 pills as needed for itching. In light of the reaction list, I also felt it wise to err on the side of moderation. I took one pill. I slept fine and no itching. 

Of course, I was so tired I suspect Gabriel would have suffered a stroke blowing his horn to wake me up. In fact, I had a hard time getting up. I was really sleeping. I got up at 7:30 a.m. and had to be at work at 8 a.m. I was 10 minutes late. I had to stop for OJ and a sausage biscuit. Hey, I gotta eat. 

As soon as I got to work my day went loco. Move briefing at 8:20 and then one client after another until noon. I worked on files and mailed out notices. Lunch was at Captain D's. I don't think I was good company. I really wanted to sleep. My friend, Carolyn drove us to lunch and that was probably a good idea. 

The rest of the afternoon I worked on assorted things. I could barely concentrate and if you asked me what I did, I couldn't tell you. Just paper shuffling.

I stopped by the store on my way home to get some things to eat. I came home and had a salad. Dave brought Sarah home with him for the evening. Then I did dishes, mopped the floor, washed two loads of laundry, all before 8:30.

So that is where I end my day now. 9:58 p.m. and I'm done. I'm going to find my bed. I wonder why we say such things? My bed isn't lost. I know right where it is, right where it was when I got out of it. In fact, I'm going to seek it with joy... well, maybe gladness is more accurate. But that's another post for another day.

A Mish Mash of Maundering Melodrama

There are days when I totally forget my goal to post something every day. I've been going to work like a slave, plopping my butt in the chair and staying there until a specific amount of work is done. It is paying off for the moment but I don't know how long I can keep it up. I'm exhausted by the time I get home. And I'm annoyed because it has interfered with every plan I've made.

The only positive to this is that if I can do what I'm planning, I will be better off than I've been in a year. So, say a prayer that I can finish the items I have slated to finish by the 28th. Better yet, pray for no interruptions for the next two weeks. No phone calls, no walk-ins, no coworker catastrophes, and no boss ineptitude.

A real negative it that I've done none of the "real" writing I had planned. I'm simply too drained. I either read or I crochet, both of which requires minimal movement and occupies the brain in a way that decompresses me. Seriously, crochet is a very calming skill. You don't even have to be making anything important. A single stitch, four large skeins of your favorite color and a hook and you're set... for days if you want. If you hate it, you unravel it and make something else. When you're done, you don't remember what bugged you and you have a beautiful, warm wrap for the cold winter evenings with your favorite book.

I used to do quite a lot of crochet when the boys were small but got away from it. When Jerry died and I was cleaning out the closets I found this huge basket of yarn and some unfinished stuff. I also found one of those large popcorn tins filled with thread. So, I dragged it all out and once I started I realized that grief could be managed if you're under the influence of crochet. And now I'm making things like sweaters and dresses and shrugs! LOL, Sarah has at least 10 shrugs of various colors. A dress is nearly finished. I've made a friend a throw, am working on a afghan for Sarah, and another throw for someone else. It works.

Digression end.

But, no novel work and that ticks me off.

I leave for Atlanta Saturday. It is a six hour drive for me. I will return on Tuesday and go back to work on Thursday. Wednesday is a day of rest. David will be here while I'm gone. So, the house will be occupied by a 224 lb male with hands that can twist the head off a bull should you be so stupid as to break in. I once saw him shoot a mouse hiding beneath a chair in a lamp-lit bedroom with a pellet gun from 15 feet away. I told him he couldn't do it. He hit is twice and killed it. With something the size of a BB! He hit it twice! Oh, get over it. The mouse was trespassing. But while he owns no other firearms, he does have some other lethal weapons... silent ones.

Just sayin'.

I hope to relax during this jaunt. I'm carrying my Kindle, my laptop, crochet and my writing calendar. I need to just do the things I enjoy without anyone demanding something. My aunt and uncle will respect that. I'll have company and privacy. And she's a really good cook. . . with a dishwasher. I'll even load it!

The steroid course I was on has ended. I have had about three weeks without much pain and a brain that is operating at near normal levels. This week the hip is bugging me again. Not much, just reminding me that it is biding it's time. My back is really bothering me but I think this is because I've spent nearly a week sitting all day. I get up to talk with a client, check the mail, send a fax, return or get a file. I am in the very back of my office building. I have the longest jaunt to the files and front door. So I do get some activity. Some days I hate that walk to the front and will make the trip a dozen times before noon. On the plus side, if someone comes in and goes postal, I have the quickest escape route. The back door is just outside my door or I can shatter the window and step out. My car just 50 feet away.

I have no idea where that came from but it is always in my mind. We deal with some potentially unstable folks. Doesn't everyone these days?

I hate Valentines Day. I'm glad it is over.

Monday is another "holiday". I hesitate to call President's Day a holiday. It is not a Holy Day. It more aptly called an "honor day". I like that much better. I save my Holy Days for things that are truly worthy of the title.

And now, I'm going to bed. I've no idea what to call this post and recently read somewhere that titling blog post was a wasted effort. But I like catchy titles and I usually come up with good ones. Well, I think they're good.

Flight of the Week

I don't know where the week went. I've been so busy at work that I simply turned on the auto pilot and let the thing fly itself. We've landed, safely, at the weekend. I'm actually feeling physically better since they gave me the steroid. I have no idea what it has done to my blood sugar or triglycerides but I'm not thinking about it at the moment. It is nice to have practically no pain at all and feel as if I'm in my right mind for a change.

I've got plans. I work Monday and I'm off Tuesday. That will leave three days in the week to push through. They will be horrendous days of shoveling massive piles of files from one side of my desk, by way of entering the data into the computer, to the other side of my desk.

 On Monday night, the 11th, I have an Online Writers' Asylum meeting That's always fun. Agenda is sent out already.

On the 16th I'm driving down to Atlanta to visit my aunt and uncle. Monday, the 18th, is another holiday and I took Tuesday and Wednesday off. So, I'll stay until the 19th and come home on the 20th. I'm going alone. Dave will have Sarah that weekend and I'll miss that but he's got a friend who will be in town with her two little girls and they'll be doing things together. It will be good for both of them. And he needs to have time with Sarah to himself because he needs to know how to deal with it.

Then, I'll have Thursday and Friday to try and make up for the five days I didn't work. Just in case you didn't realize it, February is already a very short month, as months go, in regard to the kind of work I do. I have approximately 15 days in which to process what normally takes a full 30 day month. So, this will be a feat to rival the Augean Stables. Just so you know, I am not Hercules.

I've been messing around tonight trying to get my home network back online. I can do it one way but not the other. I mean, I can see and access files in my shared folder from the desktop but I can't do the same from the laptop. I think some settings still aren't right, despite the repair. As soon as I can sit down and make sure I'm backed up on the important stuff, I'm resetting everything to factory settings. I'd like to do it this week but if you read over the previous paragraphs you will realize that it is probably not going to happen. Then, I think I'll upgrade to Windows 7 while I still can.

On the 16th I was supposed to meet with a group of local NaNo writers who want to start meeting once a month. Then I realized I had this trip to Atlanta and so I've had to push that back to the last Saturday in February.

Compared to this past week, I suspect that the coming week will reach Mach speeds. Next flight is boarding now. Buckle up.

Is Anyone Watching?

Today is a work holiday for me and I've spent all morning doing virtually nothing. I swept bathrooms, hallway and kitchen. I'll vacuum the rugs soon. I also cleaned toilets. But that's it.

No one noticed my efforts but Sarah, my 6 year old granddaughter. She's been with me for the weekend. She asked me why I was sweeping floors and cleaning the toilets. Sarah's a bit messy for a 6 year old so maybe she didn't understand the need... or health concerns.

I find it odd that she didn't notice the toilet was very dirty but she did notice last night that her dad left the sink dirty. I took a Clorox (c) wipe and quickly cleaned that up. She said, "You shouldn't be cleaning up after him." I just looked at her and thought carefully about my response. One side of my brain wanted to agree with her. Thankfully, the more intelligent side responded. "Well, he's paying rent and helps with other things. That's how people are supposed to do it. They work together." I know for a fact that this was a bone of contention before her parents' divorce in Sarah's home with her non-working Mom and working Dad. I've heard it more than once. Obviously, Sarah did, too.

Does anyone but me see the dirty toilet and sink? Did anyone but me notice the floors needed sweeping? Probably not since no one comes to my home but my family. My sons are blind to dirt. Really. Probably because they never saw it growing up. I was a stay at home mom for about 15 years. I noticed but the male contingent never saw a dirty house. Would I have noticed had it been someone else's home? Um... I'd have noticed that toilet, let me tell you, but it took me days before I noticed it last night. I think I would have noticed the sink, too. So, yes, I think, if a stranger had come to my home, they'd have noticed.

For me that's the problem. I'm overly sensitive to all this stuff. I see all the details of a messy house and it completely disrupts my ability to cope. I think everyone could see it. I know everyone would see it. So, it needs to be dealt with and disposed of quickly. Sometimes, though, I look past obvious things.

I didn't see what a six year old noticed. She didn't really see the dirt in the sink but she noticed a female household member cleaning up after a male household member. She immediately parroted a response with which I happen to disagree. It is a response based on twisted relationships. I have a problem with that kind of mentality. If there's a mess and you see it, you don't leave it for someone else, no matter who made the mess. Should people clean up their own mess? Yes. But in real life they often don't. I've had people clean up messes I made. If I see trash in the floor at my office, I simply bend down and pick it up. I didn't drop it. There are 12 other people there who could have but ignoring it won't make it go away. We work together. I am sure someone in that office has picked up my mess. In fact, I know it.

Is anyone watching? I think so. It is why I hate the house getting dirty. I'm tired a lot when I get home so cleaning lives up to the word "chore" for me. It is difficult for me to do more than 4 hours of housework. But I do it. Now there's two of us but actually, David is only mildly messy. His problem is in the follow up.

It is hard to live with someone else after years alone. I've talked to David about various things I'd like him to do, for himself and for me. He may or may not do them. I work to not get annoyed because the reality is, he hasn't got anywhere else to go. We discuss it and he tries a bit harder but he's not there yet. Surprising since he is pretty OCD and used to have the cleanest room in the house. What happened to him, I wonder? And then I listen to Sarah give orders to her father as if he were her servant rather than her parent. Where did she learn that behavior? What kind of relationship is it that demands all from one and none from the one demanding?

Sarah was playing with a couple dolls not too long ago and was heard to say, "My friends matter more and if you don't like it you can leave." Maybe when you become invisible, you don't notice the dirt.

I mean, is anyone really watching? Yes, they are.

Purple Passions, Dark Days, & Frozen Time

The new year did not get off to an auspicious start. My mother died and I spent the second day of it on the road, the third day at a funeral, and the fourth day on the road. My weekend sucked. I went back to work on Monday to be greeted by two weeks backup. It has taken two weeks see any progress at all. We've had snow, cold, rain, warmth, rain, and more cold. Most days are gloomy, at least it seems so to me. Today is no exception.

I looked for some profoundly moving topic to write about or perhaps, hysterically amusing. I have neither. I have a rather boring life that doesn't require I do much but get up and cope with the most recent disasters, which usually entail my keeping a grip on my anger, frustration, annoyance, depression, or elation. I usually end up holding an empty bag. I suppose if you look closely I'm a bit manic at times.

I went back and read some old posts. Really old. Like 2006. I sounded so young. Life sounded much simpler in some way that I can't pin down. The foolish stuff I blogged about so trivial and foolish I wonder if anyone ever even read beyond the first paragraph and I almost hope they didn't.

Then, I read posts from 2009 and realized that my life can't ever be simple again. I can't jump back to the years before January 29, 2009 and instead choosing to live here, pick another city so things will turn out differently for all of us. That it will all have been a nightmare.

I absolutely despise the month of January. As my mother always said, "I hate it with a purple passion." January 11, last Friday, was my wedding anniversary. It was a painful day. And I know at the 29th grows closer every day will become heavier and darker. On that day, Jerry will have been gone four years. It seems as if it were only yesterday that I watched him die and had to bury him in the snow and ice. Some things are just frozen in time.

New What?

Is it really a new year? Or did someone just wash and rinse this the old one and hang it out to dry? Seriously. I didn't even bother with profound or pithy post for the shifting year. No one seemed to notice. I could point folks back to an old one, written when my mind was working and life was actually better.

The truth is that I haven't noticed a different in 2012 and 2013 at this point. Admittedly, it is still early days yet. Today is only the 12th.

I have lunch today with an old friend... well, she isn't old, probably a bit younger than me but still it will be nice to sit and chat about nothing for a hour and get reacquainted with and old friend.

Earlier this week I signed up for Forward Motion Two Year Novel writing course. No, I don't know if I'll complete it or if this will be another unfinished work. But it won't be anything if I don't do it. So, I signed up. We'll see.

On the 29th I'm meeting with a group of NaNoWriMos who are interested in forming writing groups. Maybe the FM thing would be a good platform to do this on. A monthly check in to see how we're progressing? Not everyone will want to do it but I think a few are going to so we'll see.

Monday night I have my meeting with the Writers' Asylum Online. Always fun and this meeting is supposed to be about 10 people... we think. I have homework to do this weekend in in prep. I've been a little distracted and have not had time to really research like I wanted.

Now I'm going to wash my hair and get dressed.