holidays bite

Yes, they do. But this too shall pass, and the holiday depression will soon depart. I hope.

Off I go to the DR. this morning to admit I lied and get on with this work comp crap.

It is cold, I have to finish Xmas shopping, (with no money as usual). Don't you just love standing in line?

Me either.

hello out there... anybody home??

It has been many months since I have written down my thoughts here. Tons of things have happened and it doesn't look like it will slow down anytime soon, so here is my update.

First of all... since... let's see, was it August last time I wrote.. geesh.. I married my best friend in September, went back to work, started a law suit, got another job, quit my job, wrecked my car, power shopped with my daughter and actually got along! for the first time, learned to say no and mean it, made a decision about my life and a career choice, bit off a chunk of reality without actually choking on it. That was a first. (cough)

Marriage. I married Steve on September 5. It was the neatest wedding. We were surrounded by his family and many of our friends. I spent a wonderful day with my new step-daughter soaking in the pool at her hotel, then steaming in the sauna, then soaking again. We had long lazy conversation and she kept me from imploding with the impending stress. Thanks Skye. You're the best.

As we drove up to the park, everyone was busy putting the final touches on the gazebo. It was strange thinking that our guests were working for us, but after it was over, it was the coolest vibe, that everyone had pitched in to make it a special thing. Between the mosquitos, the wind that really made you feel like you were at the beach, and the ensuing monsoon at the end, I would wish for everyone to have a day as wonderful as ours. Plus, on the way back to the house, there was fireworks at the golf course. It was a present we didn't even ask for.... so cool.

Back to work. Oh man. Nuf said. I went back to the airport and resumed my duties as a gate screener. I love my job, but know I can't do it for a long time because of my delicate back. That part is difficult to deal with. I have always been the work horse, now I am the wimp. My co-workers are wonderful, but of course, corporate is gritchy at best. They infact demanded my badge on October (something) but I talked them into letting me pursue a re-evaluation. I am not sure that was in my best interest, but I did it. Knowing full well I would have to lie to get through it. Dumb move. I was terrified of not having another job and loosing this one. Now I have to just be honest and tell them I lied. Suppose that will work?

I got an attorney and started the work comp case. Now they will not speak with me in the office at all. All legal mumbo-jumbo. Isn't it special what the world has come to.

Got another job. Yeah! I am losing a huge chunk of money, but I want to be mobile when I am old, so it looks like I will have to settle for being broke right now. I hope I can enjoy this new job as much as I love my old one. I don't start until January, and even if it is awful I am stuck. It is one of those "suck it up" moments.

The night before Thanksgiving, I totalled my car on black ice. The seat belt yanked me, and the airbag punched me in the face, but nothing was as bad as the patrolman grabbing me by the shoulder and yelling to RUN as another car was sliding into us. That time I thought I was going to die. I don't take early outs at work anymore. ha. Of course, it didn't hit us, and all is well. Nothing broken or burned. I have a team of angels that work overtime.

Sarah is now 20. Shit I am old. All my kids are turning out so cool. Sarah came and we shopped last week. She has a lot of her scorpio momma in her. What a dangerous one she is to her men... Sagitarius with a stinger. Ouch.

Okay. I have to get ready to intimidate some more passengers today. I will tell about learning to say no and mean it later. Really! I will! Soon. hopefully.

perseids, ice cream, drive in movies

Here it is August and I haven't even gotten revved up for summer at this point. Typical.

The boys were here for the past few weeks. It is amazing to watch them grow and change, and confusing to try to raise them as a part time parent. Too many households and no consistancy on rules make it stressful for all involved. We did ok with only one or two blow-ups, so I suppose I should consider myself lucky.

The wedding is in a couple of weeks. Steve's daughter swooped in and saved my ass as far as the planning/decorating goes. She has no idea what a relief it is to finally have some help with this. I am not a big party thrower, and it was really weighing heavy on me. Thanks Skye!

Not much news here, other than KC is getting a downtown arena (stupid idea), Missouri booted the incumbant governor in favor of two relatively unknowns (good idea), and I didn't get the job I had my heart set on. Oh well, no rest for the terminally lazy.

Camelot - redefined.

The Republicans are in trouble. GW, after last night, may just be yet another closed chapter in American history. I say these things with all sincerity, waving my voter registration card in the air, feeling the need to march to the courthouse and change my party affiliation from Republican to Democrat. (Sorry mom)

As I watched Bill Clinton rivot the delegates (and myself) during his speech, I wondered out loud to Steven, a died-in-the-wool democrat himself, where the hell did this come from? I don't remember the polish and confidence exhibited during an electrifying address at the Democratic Nation Convention. I do remember a feeling of 'he's pulling a fast one here', but it is really difficult to discern the liberal or conservative media from a deeply Republican area. Last night, Clinton wiped that slate clean. He was charming. He was engaging. He demonstrated a sense of humor, all without side-stepping his personal background of sometimes questionable issues. His honestly regarding his status in the monetary social order was refreshing. I laughed out loud at his remarks about tax cuts for the top 1% of the nation. It is after all true, but to have it slammed in your face when everyone I know is having a hell of a time paying their monthly bills makes my blood boil. Good job Bill. It worked.

And let's not forget Hillary. My god, can we say "Camelot"?? She was always a favorite figure in the heirarchy, and her strength of character radiated through last night as she stumped for better controls against terrorism, and healthcare for everyone.

I can't say the Clintons were perfect. My son Jacob has a lucrative job as a firefighter due to the Clinton policy of closing the forests to responsible environmental management. Pine Bark Beetle has decimated the western forests, thus the fire rages on. Bill commented on China and Japan being "our bankers". Well of course they are, isn't that the action he expected when he courted the Chinese government not so many years ago? I am not sure it is going to matter at this point. Too many crave the prosperity available to the average Joe not so many years ago.

GW, what have you done? The nation followed you willingly into the "glory days" of your administration, cheered you on as you struck with force and determination, and stood solidly in your camp as the war on terrorism raged on. Now, the political platform for the challenging party looks amazingly inviting. I can't imagine I feel any different than a million other Republicans. We all want to kick some terrorist ass. But can't we prosper as a whole in the mean time? Can only the ultra rich get richer as the rest of us slide into the financial muck?

Tonight will be fascinating, to say the least. I look forward to the bluntness of Teresa Heinz Kerry. Who doesn't love the fact she can tell a reporter to shove it and still come out smelling like a rose?

The house is a-rockin' in Boston. I won't bother knockin'. I'm just goin' on in......

You know it's hot when.....

Remember when you were 15 and the stiffling heat of summer didn't even phase you? Boy, I do. I remember sunbathing on top of mom and dad's motorhome in the driveway with my best friend. I must have looked like an over-roasted marshmellow, but the heat didn't make me think twice. I was driving in my car yesterday and a few "you know when's" came to me. Some of them actually happened, making it all the more absurd.

You know it's hot when......
.......you walk across the post office parking lot and your flip flops stick. (true story, thought my flippies were lost forever)
.......you get in the hot tub to cool off and it works. (again, true story)
.......the cat gives you a *kiss my furry ass* look as you are forcing him out the door, when he normally bolts for the great outdoors everytime he sees a break. (yep, true)
.......you get up at 6 a.m. and the current temp is 80 with 45-50% humidity. (last three days)
.......you have absolutely nothing to blog about because you have stayed in your cave to beat the heat for days on end. (at least you don't have to shave your legs for it)
.......you get a tan in the shade.

On a brighter note, it is supposed to storm like hell tonight. Three inches of rain on the way. Oh crap, I gotta leave my cave and get that yard mowed.

It Pays To Bitch!

Yes, YES, it pays to bitch! Gramma told me, and so did mom, if you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all. Honest to God I wasn't mean... I promise. But let me tell ya sista!! Halleluiah it paid off in spades today to dig in my heels and bitch. Here's how it went down.
 
We got this hokey phone call last April about "getting a free vacation, just for attending a presentation".   Yeah, I know.   Time share nightmare.    But Steve and I figured what the hey, and went down to Overland Park anyway.  It was exactly as we imagined, but we got a certificate for three days and two night at a resort, and additionally a Bahama's cruise vacation, good for three years. Not bad, eh?  I will listen to a whole lot of crap for a paid vacation.  Off we go on our merry way, certificates in hand, all warm and fuzzy deciding when to explore the world.
 
So this morning I get out my certificate for the resort.  We are getting married September 5 (happy birthday Dad) and I figured what a great way to use up this first "free" vacation.  I tried in vain for 30 minutes to complete the deal through their website, and got that nasty little message 'Please contact customer service at bla bla bla bla'. Dammit I hate squeezing into my bitch shoes before lunch.
 
"Oh, the lady you need to speak with comes in at four."  Who the hell goes to work at four in the afternoon?
 
I phoned her. I gave her my best assertive voice, and she didn't even wiggle. It was like they had been through this many many times.  "No problem, I will send you a new group of certificates, and how would you like to have roundtrip airfare and hotels to Jamaica, Las Vegas, or Cabo San Lucas?" 
 
Lake of the Ozarks? not me... I am going tropical for this honeymoon...
 
That isn't even the best one.  I will write about the work crisis another time, though, because the solution is still being fleshed out.  Although....  I am hearing the distant sound of "cha-ching" in my future.....
 
 

I give

Ok. I admit it. I am (oh man, I am about to think this out loud)... I am middle aged. There. I got it out. After planning, re-planning, and finally conceding, our wedding is officially a train wreck. It started out on July 4th. It got moved to July 25th. It more than likely has degenerated from a wedding to a justice of the peace formality. I wanted the specific day I dedicate my life to the man I love to be a bit more ceremonial than getting a drivers license. It looks like I had my one chance at a romantic wedding, and it didn't work out too well either.

I see awesome weddings all the time. My former editor at the paper had a wonderful wedding, in spite of the wind. How do they do it? Youth and enthusiasm, that's how. Both a couple of commodities I lost a few years back. I can't stomp and scream it's not fair. Not that I don't want to... but that would not be fair either. I really think it has more to do with being young, bull headed, and never willing to concede. Unfortunately for the princess in me, I have learned the "concession lesson" quite well. Maybe too well.

Ok! I give. To whom ever is yanking my spiritual chain, YOU WIN! It wasn't a big thing to ask. Just a little romance. Just a little spark of non-reality. Man I really sound depressed about it all, but really I'm not. It must have more to do with coming to grips with age over enthusiasm, because I know honestly a 30 minute window of romance is nothing to build the rest of your life upon. Been there, done that, wouldn't recommend the movie.

On a brighter note, I found out my potential new employer called my former employer yesterday. *J*, I hope you had good things to say about me. After all, it is your fault I discovered a love of the publishing industry.

Gotta go check the fences, did you do something nice for someone yesterday?

Monday, Monday

The interview in Lenexa went well... at least I feel it did. But I have had that feeling before. You know the one... you feel like you cinch the interview and the phone call never comes. I met four very nice people in a relaxed enviroment, spent a half hour with each selling myself (something not easy for me) and left with a decent feeling about it all. Now comes the incessent tapping of the fingernail on the table as I wait impatiently for the phone to ring. Oh well, time will tell.

Sarah called me this afternoon. We spent a couple of hours on the phone. Life has been tough on that little girl, but she is coming out ok in spite of it all. I suppose the angel in charge of assigning certain spirits to certain families really did know what he was doing. Sarah, you are my inspiration. I know so many 40 year olds wishing they had their personal pile heaped as neatly as you. Keep on striving, my friend.

It's hot. Weatherbug says 95. That's even to hot to go sit in the hottub. Wish I could help myself to the neighbor's pool. I don't think it will happen. He's got good fences too.

Summertime blues

Music in suburbia is a tough row to hoe. Steve's band played last night in Lee's Summit to a crowd that was both appreciative and inattentive at the same time. The band had a few magic moments, but the best part was watching a group of guys smile through the entire night. Even when there was only four people left enjoying the show. It is a strange thing to see people wander out of a performance like nothing matters to the artists on stage. I know they are paid to be there, but there is an honor in art being lost to the instant gratification of current society.

I suppose truthfully this is what allows me to keep my manuscripts private. I know the effort and soul poured into any given piece of art. Living in the "artist realm" with a musician has shown me a new side to the concept of sharing your craft. It just takes a lot of guts to give it up. Seems to me whatever your chosen form of art, big cahunas are required to allow the uninitiated and/or the uninformed to view that portion of your soul. Mostly it seems, artists of any venue are gentle and appreciative when that door is opened... it those others... the ones we try to mass market to who can slaughter you the easiest. Why is that?

I am sure I do not know. I may not ever know. I stand with pride telling myself it never matters what others really think about me. Is that true? I am beginning to wonder.

Job interview tomorrow with the rest of the exec team. Cross my fingers and hope for the best.

Is there any respect left?

July 8

I had a job interview yesterday in Lenexa. It was a wonderful experience, as far as interviews go, and truly I am perfect for the position. I left the company feeling like it was a great environment, creative, expressive, free-flowing as you can get within a corporate structure. Today I will make that all important followup phone call to keep my name in the front of her memory and hopefully it will pay off. I would make a fantastic Executive Assistant. Next week I will be meeting with the rest of the exec team to see if our personalities blend. I have great hopes for this position. But, I am getting away from my chosen topic.

So I left the building after sharing lunch with a friend I have known since I was 10. Barb is awesome, talented, and totally under-utilized in her capacity, but she is a trooper, and keeping her chin up. I felt on top of the world as I stopped at the Quik Trip to fill my car with gas.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a man watching me. As I looked in his direction, he approached me and asked me what type of perfume I wore. Hesitantly I told him it was a scent from Alfred Sung and why did he want to know? He said he was a representative from a major perfume manufacturer and would I come to his car and sample his fragrances. Huge red flag.

Now, keep in mind it was 1:30 in the afternoon. I was in a busy gas station. I was dressed in my best suit and he was dressed casual business. Clean cut. Beady eyes. My intuition was bonging away to get the hell out of there. I have no idea what he really wanted. It completely freaked me out. Who approaches a woman, alone, at a gas station about perfume? I hastily told him I was late for an appointment and hurried my butt into the store.

The guy at the counter thought I had lost my mind. I bought a soda and just stood at the door watching him. He didn't approach anyone else. After a couple of minutes, he got in his car and left with two other women. They were not dressed for business, casual or otherwise. They seemed like they all knew each other. I was not about to leave that store as long as he was in the parking lot. The major thought which kept running in my head was the time when I was very small and a stranger tried to get me into his car as I was walking home from the store. It was a block from my house. I was probably 8. I didn't grow up in the city. I grew up in a tiny town where everyone knew everyone else's business, and most front doors didn't have locks that worked. Thankfully nothing happened to me or anyone else at that time. I ran home, told my mom, and went about being a little kid.

On the news this morning, they told of a woman that was raped last night. It was in the same area (generally) where I was yesterday. My god I feel horrible for her. Was it the same disgusting human? Yes, my cage is rattled.

So where is the respect? Has all of humanity lost the connection we are naturally born with? Why is it ok to be horrible? Were these people raised by dingos? All this crap in the world goes on and on and what is going to make it stop? We are fighting a war in Iraq. It is tribal in nature, has been raging for a couple thousand years, and the great American government machine goes in to rescue what? Oil? We can't solve a tribal war.

We can solve a country spinning off its axis. We can step up to the plate and say that's enough. We can make a difference by just being respectful and decent to each other. Instead of turning our backs on each other to preserve precious boundaries, just reach out once in a while and do something kind. I know it can make a difference. I have to believe it will. I have five children preparing to live in this hell hole of a world. They will impact thousands of lives just by being who they are. They are good people with good values.

It's time for all of us to make a conscious effort to make a difference. Just one act of decency or kindness will ripple out to people you don't even know. It could sway someone from doing a bad thing to someone else. It most likely will inspire someone else to pass it along. As evil travels from one being to another, so does good.

I have to go do something kind for a stranger, right after I check my fences.

Fathers Day

Yesterday was Fathers Day. I sent my dad a card but I didn't call him. It was probably wrong not to phone, but truly the card said everything I felt for Pops, basically saying thanks for raising me and having patience to let me fall in my own mess, all the while loving me no matter what.

My dad gave me some great memories growing up. Right now, I am the same age he was when I was little. I now understand the stresses and the pressures he was under. Dad never (well almost never) pushed it off on me and my sister. The little things we went through are hilarious now, even if at the time I thought I was going to be in trouble for at least a couple of years.

Here are some of my favorite memories, good and bad, so indulge me as I ramble about my Daddy.

Early memory.... Dad raised hogs and cattle on the farm. We lived in town, so for me it was cool to get to go to the farm and hang with my dad and grandparents. (Who might I add were beyond cool for a kid) I remember going into the farrowing house when dad was docking tails and clipping teeth. He made me his helper (I thought I was the true shit at that point) and I got to catch the pigs and hand them to him. Understand these pigs were maybe 3 pounds soaking wet, so to a five year old, I had arrived. I caught them by their little curly tails and drug them to dad with his waiting nippers. I remember him laughing at me as they squealed and I fretted. Thinking back on it, and having raised pork for many years myself, my god I was not in a safe place, those sows were on the edge of attack, but I always felt safe when my dad was around.

We took a vacation to Colorado when I was seven. My little sister didn't go so I know I was very young. Dad was a wonderful person to travel with, and he took me and mom to a campground deep in the mountains. We took a hike up to a crater (damned if I can remember where this was, only that it was a crater we hiked to). Mom..... hold the story, little sis might not have gone because mom was still pregnant, that would make me six..hhmmm.... I think that is the way it was... ANYWAY, dad and I hiked up the mountain and mom hung back, the altitude was getting her. We found the most wonderful patch of alpine strawberries. I remember the intense sugary strawberry flavor in each and every berry. We hunted and picked like a couple of bears. The berries were warm from high altitude sun but tiny as can be. Not these flavorless giants that are pretty but taste like crap, no, these were the size of sugar cubes and twice as sweet. Pretty cool for a kid to experience.

The same trip a cougar visited the campground in the night, knocking over the trash cans and spreading junk everywhere. We had a pop-up trailer and somehow a tin can got lodged where it had to fold to put the top down. Mom and Dad both tried to get it out, but alas, their arms were too big. Dad called me over and said, "Kid, stick your scrawny arm in there and get that can." He always called me kid. Still does in fact.

I was so damn proud to retrieve that can. I was helping my daddy.

Then there was the time I was getting ready for school. Dad was getting ready for his daily trip to the farm and without heat upstairs, everyone opted to dress in the living room to avoid frostbite. Dad dressed, drank his coffee, kissed us goodbye for the day, and out he went. I had brownie scouts that day and had to wear my mandatory uniform. Dress, sash, tie, socks. Crap, my socks are gone. "MOM! My socks are gone!" I knew I brought everything down. I was in deep shit now because my socks were nowhere to be found. Mom was getting madder by the minute and then we saw it. There laid dad's black socks. Anger erupted into rolling laughter as we realized dad had worn my brownie scout socks instead of his own. Yes, we jabbed him good about that one when we all got home for the evening. Dad, you little cross dresser.

Dad had his times of stress also. It could not have been easy living in a house with three females, but it couldn't have been that bad either. I was laying on the living room floor in front of our living color TV watching a show titled "It's a free country". Dad came home after a long day at work and asked me what I was watching. I nonchalantly answered, "Its a free country" and the fight was on.

"By God no damn kid of mine is going to talk to me like that in my own home!" He was truly pissed at me. He thought I was lipping off to him. I tried to explain it was the name of the TV show, but he was furious. I really don't remember dad ever being that mad before or since that incident. It's funny now (Yes dad, it really is funny to remember the look on your face) but at the time I thought my dad was pissed at me. Nothing in the world made me feel worse than the feeling of my daddy being upset with me. Yeah, I know, I was a self centered little shit, but I was daddy's little princess, and loved every minute of it.

There are the times of life lessons too. Dad, for as long as I can remember, even into adulthood, has told me,"You can do anything you set your mind to." Good advice dad. I have used that one hundreds of times. When the dream seemed out of reach, when the load got too heavy, when I just wanted to quit here would come that voice from the heart... you can do anything you set your mind to.

Dad, I have tried to give that one to my children. I hope they know it came from you.

As I write this, not all the memories I have a sweet ones. Some of them are hard to deal with, some of them are embarrassing, some of them are just down right uncomfortable.

As a little child I would run to dad and give him a kiss before he left for work. I remember the day I decided I was too big for that mush anymore. Dad stood there waiting for me and I informed him in my too-grown-up voice I was a big girl now and couldn't do that anymore. The look on his face still sticks in my memory. I am sorry Daddy. If I had a do-over in life, I would choose to do over that day for sure. I missed it after I stopped, and wish with all my heart I could do it every day now. At the time I didn't know how to fix it. I still don't. I just remember how hurt he looked as he stood at the door. As soon as he left, I knew I had done something wrong. I ran to the door, but he was gone. A moment in time for us had passed and I blew it.

Dad was brilliant in math. It was a gift he didn't pass on to me, I could do it, I just didn't like it. High school algebra was a class I hated, my teacher was entirely too strange for me to deal with. (she never shaved her arm pits or wore deodorant. Now I understand she was just a free spirit, but then she was just weird) I was failing the class, well, ok, I was getting D's, and my dad took it upon himself to visit with the principle about it. Oh my god I thought my life had ended. I now know he was trying to get a handle on a child who was bucking the reins, but at the time I was so embarrassed. None of my friends parents visited the school. I just wanted to blend in and be a teen clone to all the "cool" kids. What an idiot I was. My parents grounded me for six weeks until my grade came up (I thought I was in hell) but it worked. My grade got better, and realized I had to tow the line at least a little bit. From that point on, I was sure that Dad, Mr. Erwin, and Mr. Schultz were watching my every move. They probably weren't but I was 'scared straight' so to speak.

I went through a really really tough time in my life when my marriage broke up. Dad came over everyday to just sit with me. I think he was making sure the kids got fed and I actually got out of bed. There were lots of days when neither happened if he didn't come over. It is all hard to remember, a bit like looking at a movie through the bottom of a beer glass, but Dad would sit there with me in the kitchen, and just let me rant. Now I can see how important it was for me to have him there. It would have been much much harder had Dad not come over.

We have had our fights. We have had our funny times. No matter what, I love my Daddy. He has been a rock for me when I needed it. At times that rock smashed my fingers, but I needed it. He gave me enough rope to hang myself when life had a lesson to teach me, and I have the rope burns to prove it, but I needed those too. And through it all, he was always there to scoop me back into a pile and tell me.....

"You can do anything you set your mind to."

I love you Daddy.

A banner day

Sunday was one of those banner days in a mother's life. It was the type of day that needs special recognition yearly, it needs a plaque set out in a power spot in the garden, it will be most certainly committed to my memory for all my life.

Sunday June 13, 2004.

My son called me from Durango. Jake is a wildland fire fighter, based with the Durango Hot Shot crew. He is livin' the life, and loving every minute of his 16 hour days in the soot and heat. He has made a true success of himself, by himself, with only his wits and charm to work the game. And let me tell you, Jake is loaded with the charm. I have seen him just schmooze the pants right off of people and make them love every minute of it, all the while they think they are doing him a favor. When he was little, parent/teacher conferences were always the same....

"How is he doing in school, is he where he should be academicly?"

"Well, he certainly is social."

Always the same answer. Always.

Then he hit his puberty years. Oh my god I was sure he was really not my child and the hospital had made a serious error in the switch. Where was my sweet social child? Who the hell was this moody little stink who seemed to delight in making my day hell just for the sheer joy of it? I swore when I became a mother my children would not go through the terrible teens. What an idiot I was.

Side thought.... maybe that is why people should not start having babies until they are in their 30's. I certainly was to stupid and arrogant to realize I was not going to re-invent the wheel in the parenting department.

Anyway, Jake was moody and bitchy and really just unpleasant at times to say the least. But, he was so very typical, and only an experienced parent would have recognized it. At the time, I thought he just hated me and I was a horrid mother.

Then he went to college.

Then he graduated and went to work for the US Forest Service.

Sunday he called me and visited for a while. We were discussing his little brother who is now 15. I was laughing and explaining how mild his moodiness was compared to Derek. His poor brother is really going through it as far as the terrible teens go. Experience now tells me .... Hey, not my fault, he will grow out of it and become the fantastic person God created him to be, but for now... jeez we go around and around...

Here comes the banner part...

Jake says to me... "mom, I am so sorry for being such a little bitch when I was growing up. When I think back to when I was 13 to 19 and I think of the shit I did to you and put you through... I am so sorry."

I am not a failure. He is a good man. His brothers and sister have all the potential of being as successful as he. I have decided if I can just get through the next 11 years, by then Ian will graduate high school, and as long as the Loreal company keeps making color 5G, I will be set, grey free, and most importantly, know in my heart I was a good mom after all.

It only takes one

One. Tiny little word with more meaning than size.

My front yard is a bit on the rough side. Steve spaded an area around the mailbox for planting and I try to do something in it everyday. Today as I was crawling on my hands and knees, communing with nature as much as possible with a paved street six inches from your toes, it only took one damn red german shepard known for biting to ruin the entire experience. I planted mandeville vines around the mailbox and lantana for a back border, all the while peeking over my left shoulder making sure that villan was still on his tie-out. Yes, he has crapped in my yard more than once, and frankly I don't like rogue dog doo on my flip flops.

One damn dog. One damn pile left. Just stepped in it once. The reputation is made.

We have a hot-tub in the back yard. I think I will really enjoy using it when I catch onto the chemical addidtion/adjustment it requires, but for now, I am at odds with these little creepy birds insisting they will live the high life over my spa. They dive-bomb you when you are soaking away your cares and readjusting your karma. They leave colorful, mulberry stained calling cards on the cover and on the railing. Why couldn't they have been song birds like cardinals or oriels?

One hot-tub in my back yard. One set of starlings that refuse to nest anywhere but in the northeast corner of the gazebo. One nest down. One more to go.

Steve left this morning for work as usual. Lately, he is having a love/hate relationship with it, but he keeps going even when it is wearing him down physically and challenging him daily to keep a good outlook. As he left the house, he calls back "love ya baby". I hear the van start in the driveway and I am alone for the rest of the day. Through all the mistakes and all the triumphs (damn few of those) of my life, one thing stands out more clearly each day. It's the little things that really do make the entire difference between horrid and awesome, between mundane and exciting, between ... well just between every opposite. It very well could be just one little thing. He could just leave, just go on and not bother to pass out a bit of sweetness for the day or he could just say the little things. Today, it was just that one thing that made my morning more than just boring. It gave me something to mull over while I was battling angry dogs and renegade birds. Maybe we should sweat the small stuff just a little more. After all, it only takes one.

I have to go check my fences, because good fences make good neighbors.

Wednesday, June 2

Today my leg is bothering me. The dull ache and mild numbness is a joke compared to the memory of the mind-numbing pain from a couple of weeks ago, but it hurts like shit just the same. Its the nag of a new companion called Ms. Chronic Pain that pisses me off the most, but her bitch of a girlfriend, Ms. Vicaden Withdraw is not a relaxed kinship in anyway. Between the drugs, the pain, the rearrangement of life to accommodate these two new unwelcome companions, and watching my best friend and children endure it all with me, sometimes a person just wants to get the hell off this ride and go home. Exactly how many times can a body whirl around on a carnival ride before the feeling of blowing chunks gets to be too much?

I want off. It's time for me to go home. It's time for these two crazed bitches to leave me alone and let my life resurrect from the ash pit it has become. I don't really know where the path back starts, or if I can even end up in the same place I left off, but the journey must begin just the same. As we all had to face the dark as children who stayed out too late and wandered too far from the safety of lit streets, I have now been dropped off in the dark, very far from home, and must outrace these companions to return to the safety of what once was.

Holy crap someday I will learn to write and stop this rambling shit.

I have to go check my fences, because good fences make good neighbors.






Merchant Accounts

Isn't that what they say?

Good fences make good neighbors. Right? Well isn't that what they say? Good fences... Good fences ... just what the heck is that anyway?

I just bought a house in a little town surrounded and consumed by a metro hell-bent on exploding (or imploding, whichever the case may be) and even though I got rooked on the acreage department, it came complete with sturdy tall fences. So I am thinking, I bet I am gonna get good neighbors. Logical process?

Nate has turned out to be a gem of a neighbor, but he sure wouldn't need a fence to reinforce it. Joe is like a non-existant neighbor, works weird hours, parties at odd times, things like that. I think I like that fence.

Growing up as I did, with my grandparents an intergral part of my life, fences were not important. Fences were boundries and boundries meant restrictions and restrictions were a burr under my saddle. Fences were meant to keep something in, not keep something out. Now my life has changed so dramatically, from tiny-town farmers daughter to bored/secluded suburbanite, fences have become entirely normal. Don't forget these fences are built for the specific reason of keeping the rest of the world out. Is this really a good idea?

I miss my days of wandering aimlessly through the tall grass on horseback, wondering if gramma was going to fix fried chicken or baked steak for supper. I miss my days of no fences between me and whatever I wanted to go see, go do, go experience with very little or absolutely no restrictions at all. This all sounds like a whimsical farce, but it is truly how I grew up in this strange changing world. Don't think I didn't have responsiblities. Don't for a minute imagine I was raised by wolves or gypsy troops. When we worked, which was sun-up to sun-down every day during the spring into early summer and all fall into winter, we worked hard. But when we played, we were free from fencing.

There was something magical about listening to my grandfather tell stories about being a cowboy in west Texas in the early 1900's. There was a mystic quality to both of my grandmothers describing there lives as they grew into womanhood during the invention of cars and the devaluation of horseflesh. There is a distant but constant tug on my soul from the ancestors who trekked to this country from a place where fences had become commonplace and accepted. Ireland took the bit in her mouth with more than one fight, and the fight rages on. But don't good fences make good neighbors?

Isn't that whay they say?