Restless Natives

I have done several post lately of fictional stuff, just for the fun of it and because it struck me at that moment. I have found when I allow myself to do that I am a bit more focused on writing.

But I am still letting my work in progress languish. I am over worked and have filled up my time with too many projects. It is a fault of mine. I never want to be bored or have nothing to do. So I have all these projects to complete. I have now reached the update point for 2 websites, writing on two blogs (stupid idea that is), I have baby clothes to sew and things to crochet, I have a 40 hour a week job and just took another that will probably end up being about 5 hrs a week once I get all the backlog done. Friday and Saturday I worked 10 hours at the second job and did my bank statment -- no mean or fun feat.

Did I say I was over booked here? I probably need someone to give me some time management training but that would require a third job so I think we will just leave that for another life. Tomorrow I go back to the day job.

I think mentally I feel better than I have in a while. I actually felt rested when I got home tonight! Crazy, right? Well, not if you knew my household. As Mama used to say, "They are a bunch of wild Indians!"

Jerry and Mike fight no matter what it is about or where they are at the time. If they aren't arguing they are out running the roads looking for the next big deal in cars or at Walmart.

Dave and Becca just love to be around me so they come over. At which time Mike and David will invariably get into it, too. Dave & Becca just moved out two weeks ago but I don't think they are very happy in the apartment. Noisy neighbors at 3 a.m. Thankfully they don't come over then!

So, the house is usually full of people. And a part of me loves that. I never recovered from leaving home and a large extended family to just four of us in strange towns. Growing up there were aunts, uncles, cousins, and various great & grand relatives. They are mostly dead now and all the cousins lost. And a big hole in my spirit because of it. So, when the kids are here and the house is noisy... I feel at home.

But I do need to breath once in awhile. I guess when little Sarah Cheyenne gets here she and I will seek a quiet corner somewhere to have a meaningful conversation and get to know one another while the other Indians are doing their war dance in the other end of the house. At least, I hope so.

Flash Fiction on Sunday Afternoon

It was a smokey room with no windows and it smelt of stale beer and cheap cigarettes. The one bonus was that it was 30 degrees cooler than the night shrouded parking lot she had just left and probably a thousand degrees cooler than her flaming Chevy a hundred yards down the road.

The ancient juke box in the back was playing an equally ancient song that she recognized. It had been on the hit parade when she was 10 and going through her country music phase. The voice was as smokey as the room... what was that guy's name? She remembered she had loved his music but it was long forgotten now.

"What can I get ya, Babe?"

Now there was a line to get a girl's attention. From the cave-like booth where he crouched, he squinted glazed eyes at her through a cloud of smoke that boiled from his mouth, probably from the stygian depths of his soul. Betweet slack, wet lips she saw a flash of sparkling white teeth just before he stoked the fire again. Oh yeah, he was hot, all right, just smokin'.

"A phone book and phone would be great." She directed her attention toward where she hoped the bartender was in residence. Den was an appropriate term if this guy was any example. She had a sinking feeling that the night might not get better.

"Hey, Babe, I'll give you my number, you ain't gotta look it up."

She looked back and found that her imagination was taking over and Jaba the Hutt was leering at her. Great, just what she needed. She could only hope he was as hampered walking as the original Hutt had been because she was no Princess Leia and there was not going to be a Luke Skywalker or Han Solo appear to rescue her.

She moved toward the end of the bar, supressing a grin. She wouldn't mind Han Solo rushing in and grabbing her up. Of course it was Skywalker who always did the dashing moves, levitating while brandishing a sword at the bad guy with a girl on his other arm. No, Solo was just handing out the grins, hugs, and kisses in dark corners of the Falcon. She sighed. There weren't going to be any heros in this tale. She just had a bad feeling about it.

"Excuse me," she said as the bartender moved her way, "do you have a phone book. My car just blew up and I need a tow."

His eyes widened and his mouth formed an O before he replied, "Honey, you won't get a tow tonight, not around here. You are 75 miles from a real town and the only garage we have locally is run by that slug you passed on the way in. And he is in no shape to drive anyone anywhere unless it is to hell."

I turned back to stare at the Hutt. He grinned a whisky grin and wiggled his fingers at me. Oh God, the night was not going well at all. What little space she had acquired between her and trouble just went up in smoke.

Don't Make Me Blush!

Went to the doctor today for a follow-up. She gave me samples of a med called Niaspan. It is a time released formula of Niacin, supposedly better tolerated since it is time released. I have the most terrible side effect.

Regular niacin can cause flushing of the skin, itching and burning. I took it years ago and had a mild reaction to it. It is not pleasant. I had the reaction on the Niaspan tonight. Within 30 minutes of taking it I looked like I had been dropped in oil and felt that someone had covered me with a million fire ants. Itching, burning and severe redness were full blown in less than 2 minutes after onset of the symptoms.

I called the pharmacy to see if there is anything I could do. There wasn't and I needed to watch for an additional thing. If I had trouble breathing I was to go immediately to the ER. And since this was time release... I might have repeating occurances all night long. Nice, huh? He recommended a cool shower to see if it helped with burning. It did while I was in the shower and an aspirin. But I can't stay in the shower all night! He didn't know why the aspirin helped but he said he had found it did. I was game by then so tried it.

I called the doctor and she said pretty much what the pharmacist said but also said I could take an benedryl for the itching. So, I have gone from one additional pill to three!

Well, after about an hour it began to taper off. I got less red, less itching, and burning. Lasted about 30 minutes and then started again. This time it was not so severe. At the moment it is tapering off again. I guess we will see what happens. I have to go to bed because I am tired but I don't know if sleep will be possible.

I have discovered a new meaning to the phrase, "Don't make me blush!"

Passing on Excitement

Today Dave and Becca are moving into their apartment. I don't think either of them is thrilled because they don't have money or jobs and it is not the nicest thing to have to live in the projects. Unfortunately, life bites sometimes and the things we want are just not within our grasp. It is a hard lesson he is learning.

Things around here are, as a result, pretty messy. I don't know how I will ever get it all straightened out, AGAIN. Everytime I think it will be fine, someone has to move in and distupt everything. I know they don't do it on purpose but I just wish they had someplace else to go once in awhile.

I won't gripe too much. They are my kids and I am very glad to have them all here. I just don't like all the stress of trying to clean house after so many people and find a place to store all the junk.

I am out of space, out of time, and out of sorts. I would love to have a nice quiet house that smells like I just cleaned top to bottom. I have given up. I need that cleaning team with those two British women. I bet they could straighten everything up in a tick.

I am out of here now. I thought I would be able to dash off something exciting but suddenly realized that exciting around here usually means an emergency room trip, court proceedings, or things involving long black cars. I think I'll pass.

Dancing on Wet Pavement

She danced across the wet pavement, arms stretched to the heavens, head thrown back to receive the blessing of the rain. Thunder rumbled and clouds roiled but there was no lightening, only the sound of heavenly furniture being moved through the halls by angels. She laughed at her own imagination.

Her heels make an interesting sound on the sidewalk as she continued her journey to her car, the rhythm becoming a tap dance. The store windows streamed with rain, everything, all the things people craved, were now out of focus, unimportant and obsolete. She needed nothing but to be alive, to breath in the wet cool of the air, and hear the staccato tap of her heals. She performed a quick two step and twirled, finishing by slipping her key into the door lock with a florish. A man getting out of his car on the opposite lane did a double take and smiled at her. She smiled back. It was a glorious day to be alive and dancing on wet pavement.

Rain Like Silk Sheets and Migraine Thieves

The rain is falling in soft folds, covering the city streets in cool, grey, silken sheets. Drifting around me are the soft chords of classical guitar and the room takes on a very melancoly feel that I keep trying to sort out. I find myself wanting to go somewhere and sink into a soft cushioned chair and watch the world through blurred windows.

The day is slipping away and I am here, in a brick and steel box, envious of the rain.

I had a migraine last night. Today I am better but the feeling I am always left with is that I missed or lost something. The migraine thief slipped in and took away another day. Of course, it isn't true but that is the way it feels. I don't know where that comes from, just as I don't know what triggers the pain. That crawly feel in my head, that precursor to the real pain, keeps one on edge and so perhaps that is the source.

Tuesday Masquerade

Ah, Tuesday, second day of the week, day before the middle day of the week which will signify the week is half over. I could learn to like Tuesday - except that my desk is running over because yesterday was a holiday. Never mind that for the whole month of May I have actually had 10 working days to do my job. Everything else was meetings, holidays, vacations, business trip, and interruptions. Heaven forbid if the paperwork falls below the level of my head for more than one day.

On top of that, this is the end of the month and things only roll faster when they are headed downhill.

I also wonder what all these people do when they aren't in my office turning in more paperwork or calling to complain that they are paying too much rent? Sadly, I have no one to call and complain about my rent.

This Tuesday looks suspiciously like a Monday.

End of a Holiday

The long weekend ends tonight. I go back to the mill tomorrow and put my nose to the grindstone. I always hate the end of the day when it is the last day of a weekend or holiday. It is so depressing.

Today I went to the store and picked up some panels to make a couple of maternity skirts for Becca. I made two skirts and hemmed three of them between 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. I love sewing but I am usually just tired after work and don't want to do anything at all.

I think, however, that I am going to make myself a skirt soon. One of the fabrics I used made a beautiful skirt and I want one out of it. I have enough to probably make three more skirts. I also have a crate of fabric from when I sewed all my own clothes. So, with a baby girl on the way I will have to make a better effort to sew more, I guess.

Good night friends, if you are reading this. I am done for this holiday. Next holiday is July 4 and I am supposed to go out of town on the Saturday before to a concert in Owensboro KY... Crabbe Family festival. My uncle has bought tickets for us for Saturday and I think we will go on Friday night.

Remembering the Sacrifices

Today is Memorial Day. It is a day set aside to contemplate and give honor to America's war dead for the sacrifices they made to the cause of freedom and democracy.

Take a moment today, particularly if you are an American, to say a prayer of thanks for those who gave their lives. And for those Vets who are still alive, shake their hands or hug them and tell them how much you appreciate what their sacrifices.

If you have a family member who is currently serving in the military, thank you for the sacrifices you have made. Too often those who have no connection with the military have no idea that the families of soldiers and Vets make sacrifices as well. It is not easy for a spouse to pack up and move every two to four years and set up housekeeping, find new churches, schools and friends.

Soldiers may also spend months away from their families. Children may not see their military parent for weeks, months, and in wartime, for years. The soldier may return home after a parent, sibling, spouse or child has died, never having the opportunity to say goodby. Soldiers may receive letters from their spouse or girlfriend that end the relationship.

So, thank a vet or soldier for their service. Thank God for their dedication.

Everyone Needs a Name

Sarah Cheyenne is the name picked for out little girl. A bit old fashioned and a bit unique. Her grandmothers both picked out her names with her mama's final approval. We kind of like it. Sarah means Princess in Hebrew.

Cheyenne is a bit more difficult. There appears to be some disagreement on the meaning of it. It is, of course, the name of an Indian tribe. One posed definition is "those who speak in an alien tongue". I find this interesting since we are Pentecostal and believe in speaking in "other or unknown" tongues.

Somehow, it seems to belong to her already... and there is a nice story behind the choice. More on that later.

It's A Girl!

We got the news today that the baby is going to be a girl! They got there ultrasound and the doctor pronounced it was a girl. She said she has not been wrong in six years. I suspect that is probably because she also said when she is not sure she doesn't tell the parents one or the other.

They don't have a name picked out yet for a girl. They had one for a boy... but not a girl. So, now begins the fun. Trying to find a pretty girl's name.

I have to start thinking about sewing little girl clothes again. What fun that will be for me.

Do I Hear $5000?

It is another Monday gone and I managed to get a lot of things accomplished at work. I don't know about the rest of my life. It appears it is still in the pits and sinking fast.

I am praying for $5000. Seriously. I have asked God for $5000. I don't have any way to get it. I have no way to earn it. Now one is going to give it to me that I am aware of. I can't steal it because I don't steal, even if I had a clue where to steal that kind of money. So, I have told God that I need it.

You laugh. So what if I don't get it? I haven't hurt anyone or committed a crime. I have done nothing wrong.

Now, the alternative is that I do get it. At this point I don't much care as long as it is honest and I don't have to pay it back. If I could pay it back I wouldn't need it. So let's say by some means I do get it. Then, I have done nothing wrong. I have not hurt anyone, or committed a crime. And I can pay off at least some of my debts.

You wonder why I don't ask for more, say $10,000? Well, I believe that we are only promised what we need. I know that I need at least $5000. I could use $10,000 and be nearly debt free. I figure being greedy, even though I need more, is foolish. So, I ask for the least amount I can use. If God wants to bless me with more, great. If he only provides what I ask for, well, I will be very glad.

I know, it is silly, stupid, ignorant, ludicrious, etc. Well, you handle your problems your way and I will handle mine my way. I am no worse off for asking if I don't get it and if I do get it, well, I figure you'll be calling me. I'll let you know how it turns out.

An American Haunting Historically Inaccurate

Another Saturday ends with me feeling as if I have spent a day working. Actually, I did work from 8-12 today. The rest of the afternoon was spent watching An American Haunting. Don’t waste your money. It is not worth it. I love movies like The Others, The Sixth Sense, and The Village. And this movie started out interesting but it has a lame ending and leaves you feeling like you missed something or that the writers ran out of ideas and just tossed in child molesters because NBC Dateline is getting kudos for catching predators.

I was already familiar with the Bell Witch case in Tennessee. I have read several stories about it and when I saw this movie was based on that case, I searched on-line to read up again. I was truly looking forward to seeing how they used the most documented haunting case in American history to make a movie where it was “happening again”. The truth is that it was about an hour and a half of a very pretty girl screaming and being dragged around her bedroom floor and slapped by invisible hands.

The other children in the household, whom the historical accounts state were also tormented the way Betsy was, were barely seen, let alone mentioned in the movie. People actually had conversations with the entity haunting the Bell family and yet, they eliminated the significant details from the movie. Most important to me was that the return of the entity 7 years later was excluded from the movie, even thought the entity itself is reported to have said it would return. They made it sound as if once John Bell died the whole thing went away. That was not the case at all.

If this were a fictional story it might have been ok but the fact that it was “based” on a true account, aggravated me. As a history major, I expect that when I am told something is based on an actual event that it will be true to the record in large part. They billed this movie as based on fact.

They did put a disclaimer at the end stating that the movie was just one possible explanation of the events as recorded in history. However, by excluding some of the most telling information of the original account they make their premise unbelievable… at least to me. It was all hokey by the end of the movie.

This had the potential to be a really good scary movie and turned into a statement about fathers molesting their children and the mother being blissfully blind.

Two thumbs down and a half eaten 3 Musketeers.

Wishing for A Long Summer Day

Yesterday was Beautification Day at the Housing Authority where I work. I was out hoeing, raking, and cutting. I am sore today. Rather than hire goundskeepers for their housing sites they get the employees to do it once a year. You could tell too, because there were leaves and debris that was a year old. No one had been cleaning anything. Government spending at its finest.

I don’t really want to go there. For two years we were in the papers because the all the guys in charge were mishandling funds. Then we had a year of relative quite and then next guy that came in did the same thing. Then HUD sends in the “roto rooter” people and we have had about two years of quiet. But who knows, that could change tomorrow!

I have to hit the sack in a moment. Tomorrow is Wednesday and the week is half gone. I have a business trip the end of this month and tons of work to get accomplished before then. I am out of vacation time, out of sick time, and so out of sync with working. I want a long, summer day on the sand with the Gulf of Mexico about 10 feet away. It is not happening unless someone donates about $5000 to me to drive off the predators.

Everyone is Boring after Fifteen Minutes

You know, I think most people are boring. Really. There is not enough to the average person to interest anyone for more than 15 minutes. Think about it. If the people you knew were interesting you wouldn't be scouting the web for blogs of people you hoped would be interesting. You would be having reviting conversations with the interesting people you actually know! You would be doing interesting things with those interesting people.

But no, here you sit, reading the thoughts, ideas, and predjudices of people you either don't know or hardly know and trying to find someone who shares the same thoughts, ideas and predjudices as you. And then you are dissatisfied because they are all. . . boring. Admit it, we are all boring.

My goodness yes, even I am boring. This is all about me, after all. My blog is about my boring thoughts, life, family, ideas, and views. I don't care much for politics because I despise liars. I don't care much for movies because they are vicarious living at its worst, although I do like Star Wars immensley... another world where people are much less boring. I don't drink because I do not like being out of control. I don't smoke because I have seen the effects of smoking on the skin of women my age. It is not a pretty sight and for nearly 50 I look pretty good. (No the photo is NOT retouched.) I have no intention of tanning my face to leather. And sex is only interesting for short periods of time and then you have to find something else to do. I speak from a woman's point of view. I am sure the male view of sex differes considerably. It is why men are often the most boring. Everything is about sex. . . even if it isn't.

I thought for a while that there might be some blogs out there that were interesting but they are all about the writers or their views of politics, cute kids, new jobs, other boring people, hobbies, etc. So, up to this point, all of the ones I have run across are pretty much just as boring as you think this one is. I guess I will stick to writing my boring blog and ignore the rest.

But now, I really have to go. I am feeling very sleepy. I did say most people were boring, didn't I?

Finding Lost Treasure

This Sunday is Mother's Day in Austraila. Next Sunday is Mother's Day here in the U.S.

I didn't know they had Mother's Day anywhere else in the world. The woman who began the tradition here in America was from a little town called Henderson, Kentucky. They have an historical plaque to show where her home was in Henderson.

I guess it is possible that they have a mother's day in a lot of places. America has given birth to some wonderful ideals. Celebrating the value of mother's and fathers is a good one. We even have one now that celebrates grandparents. Can't remember when that is but I suspect right after Father's day, which is next month.

Mama died in January 2, 1974. She was my grandmother but she raised me and in every sense of the word was my mama. I have never stopped missing her.

I hope that you will call your mother. It means so much just to get a call for no reason but to say "You are the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me." Try it.

The Bible says in Proverbs 31, "Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. . . .Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her."

Mama was treasure. I've been broke since the day she died.

Vain Attempts

O.k. I need to update the blog and try as I might I can't find one thing that anyone would be interested in.

My week of vacation has been a bust. I spent most of it getting the house rearranged so we could all fit in it with Mike here now. I am exhausted if I think about it. I am trying not to think about it.

Today is Saturday and this post was originally intended for Thursday! Does that tell you anything? This morning I have spent reconciling my bank statement. I have $25 between me and next Friday.

I also finished a book I have been trying to read for three weeks. Not a bad book but not reviting. I made a mistake and joined this program that sends me three novels in the romantic suspense genra. They get to me about a month before they get to the newstand.

So, I get a early shot at them... all for about $15 a month, which is cheaper than going to Wal-mart and buying them if you factor in the price of gas. So far there have been three out of four shipments that I didn't care for. Since money is now a major concern, I put the account on hold until August.

I did the same with my panty hose company, Silkies. I buy them mail order as well. I am trying to figure out what else I can stop spending on. This morning it was 60 degrees and I had no heat or air on. This despite Mike's and my allergies. I am sitting here in my red study with a small electric heater trying to warm myself. When I get cold my joints ache with the RA.

It is still cool out but I refuse to give the energy monster any extry money this month. Vectren is a bandit gobbling up its own customers.

Well, enough of that! Reciting all my vain attempts to accomplish something can get pretty boring. I am considering working on an update to my website. So, with that noble endeavor in mind I will take my leave.

Regrets and Answered Prayers

Again I have waited until after midnight to post to the blog. I am not sure why that seems to be the golden hour but it does.

Tonight is the last official night of my vacation and I am finding myself very depressed. The last three weeks have been long, stressful, and depressing. Mike got his divorce papers today but still doesn’t want to sign them. We will support that decision because we also do not believe in divorce. We believe that there are other ways to deal with problems in a marriage instead of running away. But frankly, I would not bat an eye if he signed them.

This person’s behavior is not a surprise to us and I would commit a much greater sin if I said I was sorry she is gone. There was never a minute that we felt Mike was doing the right thing when he married this girl. There were so many red flags that it looked like a railroad flagman’s convention. For nearly a year, we tried over and over, to talk him out of it. We managed to get a nearly a year’s courtship before finally telling them to marry in December of that year. We felt since we couldn’t stop it that at least they could get a little extra money by filing taxes together. They had so little money to start with that is seemed foolish to not take advantage of something we couldn’t stop anyway.

I thought about that last night, about how I had called and told them to just go ahead and change the May wedding to a December wedding. Mike had asked me why and I said, “You are going to marry anyway so you might as well get some financial benefit out of it.” So, maybe I should have stuck to my guns and said “Never!” Maybe if I had just done that, something would have happened to stop the whole thing. But I didn’t.

I have many regrets but mostly, I think we all feel betrayed. She never loved our son and we knew it beyond any doubt. But we tried so hard to love and accept her. Jerry thought the world of her and really liked her so much more than I did. And we felt compassion for her because we knew that our son was a big responsibility for anyone and from what we had seen of her we knew she was incapable of handling a marriage to him.

We knew why she married him from our early conversations with her. She made comments like “this is my last chance”, “My younger sisters got married first and I want to have the first baby”, “I don’t like controlling men”. So many other statements that were so revealing. But he would not listen. So, she saw a disabled man she could control and she married him to get pregnant. When she found she could not have children and she couldn’t really control him, she arranged to dump him.

I think the most evil thing was that on Tuesday night she told him she missed him and loved him and on Wednesday night she told him she had filed for divorce. She told him she had planned it for a month, all the while kissing him, hugging him, telling him she loved him, and having sex with him.

I prayed for two years that if this marriage was not going to work, and she was not going to be good to my son, that no children would be born. I am so glad God answers prayers. Mike told me tonight, “Mom, I think I am going to be all right.” God does answer prayers.

A Day in a Feather Bed

Depression on a cloudy day is much better than on a sunny day. On a gloomy day the world is a feather bed, with no sharp edges, and the air--soft, cool, and sweet. Everything seems to be cushioned and blunted and you can sink into it, close your eyes, and close your mind. It is a little like a large padded cell. You can’t hurt yourself on a gloomy day because all the sharp edges are gone. And if it rains, it can wash away all the debris that has accumulated.

On sunny days everything has razor edges that can lacerate a wounded spirit. You look out and the reflection on the blade of the day blinds you and hurts your eyes. Green has become a weapon and concrete a furnace. Everything you brush against seems to have points and angles that wound. All you want to do is crawl back into that feather bed until darkness blunts the sharp places of the day.

I love gloomy days.

Today is a gloomy day.

Felling Trees and Planning Meals

Monday dawned as dreary as the previous day but as the morning wanned the sun peeked from behind gray clouds. Between light showers they mowed the lawn with a weed trimmer. The mower say idle and mocking, testament to machine triumph over man.

She swung the axe and felled several of the overgrown hedges before handing it off to her son. He was far less skilled at axe weilding, despite being 27 years old. She had made sure that he had never had to learn such skills. Her experience came years ago when she had to cut firewood for the stove because her grandfather was too drunk to stand, let alone swing an axe. She had cut cord after cord to warm the house in the winter. At 15 her muscle tone was one models would envy today and she could eat anything she wanted. She could also move furniture alone back then. Times changed. But she still knew how to swing an axe. Tomorrow, the pain would be horrendous. Today, she just does what has to be done.

Now, her hunger was announcing itself loudly and she dragged the axe and rake to the shed and stowed them away. Something cold to drink and something hot to eat were as far as she had planned this day. Sometimes thinking beyond the moment was far more work than chopping down trees.