When I let myself get so upset it takes days to get over it. My meltdown on Friday left me quite lethargic on Saturday. But the bat that scared me on Sunday morning really got my adrenaline going. I was out of the bed with the door slammed in no time at all. It was quite hard to fall asleep afterwards with cats climbing on top wanting to join me on the couch. Eventually I did fall asleep and have been quite cheerful since.
Mr Tolliver Grote, in Going Postal is full of noxious home remedies such as putting sulphur in his shoes and bread pudding poultices. He claims that it "clears the tubes". I feel like my tubes are cleared now and it is full speed ahead. Just after I get a few hours more sleep.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Hysteria and Perspective
As this week has progressed, I have been crazier and crazier about losing the phone and internet lines. It wasn't because I need them so much; I have a cell phone and can use the internet at the library. It was because I was being lied to, manipulated by outside forces and generally felt out of control. It was like everything I wanted to do was being controlled by the stupid lies.
Today, I totally lost it. I just lost it. I was in a frantic state and could hardly breathe and was crying upset to the point of craziness. I called Erica and she thought someone had died. She calmed me down, took the information and called Qwest. She told me to lie down and I did. I read a little Dave Barry and actually smiled. When I was calm I went out for a while. I came home and the technician came and made sure I had service. When I went online I found out that a friend's son had died in a skydiving accident.
Not to get all hippy trippy, and totally accepting that I have been working myself up all week, I think my hysteria and when my friends heard about their son was about the same time. I don't know if there is any correlation or I was super sensitized to what was happening.
The young man, Eli Thompson, was 36, a professional stunt diver, husband, and father of two little girls. His wife is eight months pregnant with their son. I remember when my brother Stuart died. My parents were devastated, as are my friends. But I think of this pregnant woman, trying to make sense of anything and comforting her daughters, and trying to be comforted and my heart goes out for the terrible pain that is spreading through their family and friends.
Oh my, oh my...I make a fuss because I am feeling manipulated. As Erica said, she thought someone had died. Someone had, I just did not know it.
"Is there any remover of difficulty save God? Say: He is God, all are His servants and all abide by his bidding." -The Bab.
Today, I totally lost it. I just lost it. I was in a frantic state and could hardly breathe and was crying upset to the point of craziness. I called Erica and she thought someone had died. She calmed me down, took the information and called Qwest. She told me to lie down and I did. I read a little Dave Barry and actually smiled. When I was calm I went out for a while. I came home and the technician came and made sure I had service. When I went online I found out that a friend's son had died in a skydiving accident.
Not to get all hippy trippy, and totally accepting that I have been working myself up all week, I think my hysteria and when my friends heard about their son was about the same time. I don't know if there is any correlation or I was super sensitized to what was happening.
The young man, Eli Thompson, was 36, a professional stunt diver, husband, and father of two little girls. His wife is eight months pregnant with their son. I remember when my brother Stuart died. My parents were devastated, as are my friends. But I think of this pregnant woman, trying to make sense of anything and comforting her daughters, and trying to be comforted and my heart goes out for the terrible pain that is spreading through their family and friends.
Oh my, oh my...I make a fuss because I am feeling manipulated. As Erica said, she thought someone had died. Someone had, I just did not know it.
"Is there any remover of difficulty save God? Say: He is God, all are His servants and all abide by his bidding." -The Bab.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Ranting and Raving
Monday evening I lost phone and internet service. I called Qwest repair and they told me I didn't have trouble on the line. Next morning I called the billing office to see if I hadn't paid the bill or something. They had not shut off the service so I called repair again. They told me someone would be out between 3 and 7, no later than 8. I asked if it was ok for me to go out before then and was told that was fine. At 8:15 I was told there was no repair order. I got pretty upset and asked to speak to a supervisor. He calmed me down and told me someone would be there between 8 and noon today. At 12:30 I called back and asked where the repair person was. I was told he would be there by 4:30. I went ballistic. I wanted to know why they couldn't call me to say why they would be late?
At 4:15 a repairman came and tested that I did not have service. Duh. He followed the line and found that it must have been pulled down on purpose in my neighbor's yard. He tried to get a bucket truck but was not successful. I was just called on the cell phone asking if it would be ok if they came out tomorrow morning? Please.
So here I am at Hennepin County Library using their computers and internet and realizing that as we get more and more dependent on the internet, we are becoming more vulnerable to technology. No electricity or gas or phone, and I as a semi-modern woman am lost. I can stand an occasional weekend in a rustic cabin with an outhouse and pump. But I want my ATM and phone banking. I want to pay bills online. I want modern life.
There are people in Africa and other parts of the world who walk miles for dirty water. When my phone service is restored I am going to make a donation to Play Pumps International as a gift for being so blessed in my life and for the awareness of how spoiled I can be.
At 4:15 a repairman came and tested that I did not have service. Duh. He followed the line and found that it must have been pulled down on purpose in my neighbor's yard. He tried to get a bucket truck but was not successful. I was just called on the cell phone asking if it would be ok if they came out tomorrow morning? Please.
So here I am at Hennepin County Library using their computers and internet and realizing that as we get more and more dependent on the internet, we are becoming more vulnerable to technology. No electricity or gas or phone, and I as a semi-modern woman am lost. I can stand an occasional weekend in a rustic cabin with an outhouse and pump. But I want my ATM and phone banking. I want to pay bills online. I want modern life.
There are people in Africa and other parts of the world who walk miles for dirty water. When my phone service is restored I am going to make a donation to Play Pumps International as a gift for being so blessed in my life and for the awareness of how spoiled I can be.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
My great niece and nephews.
Today I had the fabulous experience of holding Owen, (what a chunk a bunk) while watching Emma hold a sleepy Dylan. Ethan was talking to me and little Linnea slept in her swing. Oh it is so precious, dear nephews and nieces. Enjoy these little bunnies; their tummy aches, and ear infections are nothing compared to the joy of holding them, experiencing their smiles and knowing you are the center of the world.
The old ladies used to say "It goes so fast!" They were right. Sleepless nights pass, as do hours spent at the pool or soccer field. I believe you can have a full and happy life without children, but I sure am glad to have had mine and I will always admire these miracles of love where and whenever I come across them.
I love being a Grauntie!
The old ladies used to say "It goes so fast!" They were right. Sleepless nights pass, as do hours spent at the pool or soccer field. I believe you can have a full and happy life without children, but I sure am glad to have had mine and I will always admire these miracles of love where and whenever I come across them.
I love being a Grauntie!
Friday, August 14, 2009
Ten days without blogging...something and nothing to say
First the nothing. I have not gotten a job yet, nor am I closer to living on my own.
I went up to Barnum earlier in the week to see Betty's mechanic and body shop men. Aubrey, the mechanic took a look at the Camry and thought it well worth repairing. Said I needed new light bulbs and to have a welder look at where the exhaust pipe came off the engine. Otherwise I was fine. He thought ten dollars more than fair for his time. Gotta love it. Then we went over to Tony Grimm's shop and he wrote up an estimate of $450. to fix the bumper and light assembly and another forty to knock the rear bumper back into alignment. That was Monday. I came back on Wednesday night and dropped it off at 8:30 on Thursday morning. It was done this morning. I had been missing a front wheelcover and he found one that sort of matched and threw it on for free. Then he decided to only charge $470. for a job he estimated at $490. Some things are better in small towns for sure! Thank you Betty.
After we dropped the car at the body shop we went back to the house and had a quiet morning. After lunch we went in the lake. It was so warm. I was very glad to be wearing my rubber shoes though. Clams and stones and weeds, oh my. Dinner at Hanging Horn Village where they have big city prices. I think their food is fine, but not all that wonderful. It is, though, the only decent place around for miles. As usual Betty knew some people there.
Today we went to Jay Cooke State Park. I haven't been there in at least ten years. The rock formations were as timeless as ever. We had a good time hiking around and enjoying the scenery. We arrived around nine and left at eleven, just as crowds were getting there. I loved looking at the water and rocks and Betty was able to tell me about some of the flora. We walked down to a protected part of the back water and Betty identified deer, wolf, and bear tracks. I thought they were just holes in the sand. I bow to greater knowledge.
Betty gets around so well it is hard to remember she is 84 years old! I saw some of her hesitation and helped her down over some of the rocky trails. Although she is easily offended, she took none as I offered my hand. I told her it put my mind at rest to see her accept help when she needed it. I reiterated how sensible she was and that we would not have to worry about her being alone in the house when it got too much for her.
Here is the problem. She is stubborn and can not hear very well and thinks people are talking down to her. When we sat at the gas pump I asked her what side the door was on. She got all defensive and told me she knew where her gas door was and hated when people treated her like an idiot. I sat for a moment and said I was only asking because a man was filling a gas can on the other side and sometimes I went to the far side and pulled the nozzle behind the car. I was just asking, I wasn't telling her what to do. She had to regroup and apologize but did tell me it drove her crazy when people spoke to her in words of one syllable as if she was an idiot.
When we were at Autumn Voices choir practice on Monday, she had to have everything repeated. She has no idea of how deaf she is. Scott says he would like to fit her with new hearing aids that would help her singing. Betty tells me she has two swim suits, one that I bought her, and one she bought on her own. But what she goes swimming in is just awful. She wears an ancient pair of bleach splotched shorts and a Helly Hanson singlet that not only is full of holes, it is almost indecent. The yoke is grey, but the chest is white nylon, so her nipples show through. Oh boy. I asked if she has a philosophical objection to the suits. She finally admitted that she is not going to be 130 pounds again and doesn't like the way she looks in a bathing suit. But she doesn't mind her nipples showing, I asked. She did laugh and admit it was silly.
When we were at Jay Cooke we were told that the water was Root Beer colored. I said I always heard it called tea colored. Later on when we were in the lake I mentioned that when she was on her back, she was having a Root Beer Float. Aren't I the witty one? And if she washes her hair in the lake, which she does, that when she is all lathered up she is a root beer float with whipped cream. Big groan, but I liked it and would have gone on ad nauseum, but took the hint and shut up. How lucky I have been in my in-laws. Poor Scott has not been quite so lucky.
This week my breasts have been so tender, and I was experiencing cramps, just like I was expecting my period. Imagine my surprise to get a period after eleven months. I thought I was done and didn't miss it for a minute. I was so looking forward to September to be able to say I was there, in menopause. I am fifty-seven years old and really ready to be done. The PMS I had this week was truly awful. I lost my temper with the old man and could have hurt him.
On Tuesday night the old lady said the old man was crying that he wanted to go to the beach. I knew I had to get up to Barnum but I said I would take him on Thursday at 2. About ten to two I called to say I would be late. The old lady couldn't hear me so the old man got on the phone and I gave him the message. By the time I got there at 2:20 he got himself into a snit about why I was late. Now the last thing I wanted to do was go to the beach and here he was giving me shit about my time management skills. I told him I called, he insisted I did not. We got in a shouting match and I hit him with a towel. I am so appalled at my action that I feel like I should be put in jail. I haven't hit anyone in over twenty years. I can't begin to tell of my shame at hitting this frail old man with a towel. I know he can push my buttons, but this was like lighting a flame to dynamite. When I saw my blood on Thursday, I was relieved. I am still mortified at my actions, but can blame it on my hormones. That doesn't make it right by any standard, but at least it makes it understandable.
I've just listened to the phone messages. My mother called to say "Thank you, thank you, thank you for making my life easier. I love you." Oh my God, I feel like such a heel.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Comedy of Errors, Confederacy of Dunces, or: My Day and Welcome to it.
I couldn't sleep well last night, knew I had to be somewhere at noon. I was in a deep sleep at 9:30 when the phone rang and woke up sort of jangly. It was my father. I told him I would pick him up at one for his appointment. He told me they were out of "everything". I told him to make a list and we would go to Cub after his appointment.
Every now and again I get called to take a taste test. I got to the place and saw posted places where I should park as opposed to general parking. Don't ask me why or how, but I turned into a spot and promptly scraped a brand new, no plates yet, van. I pulled out and parked in the empty next row. I did not even stop to look at my car. Oh my goodness, what have I done? There is a part that wants to run away and pretend it never happened. That is the bad karma creator and the price paid is more than any deductible! I found the owner who was just lovely to me. She had only had the van since Friday and was totally mellow. Not me. But as she pointed out, the work needed to be done whether she flipped out or not. What a woman. She has my information and I am going to pay her deductible. It is not fair for her to suffer for my stupidity. I don't know if I will fix my car or what. New front bumper and light and who knows what? Maybe look into getting something new, or newer. I would like something like an old time Volvo, built like a tank but with better mileage. OY.
Nice taste test. Amazing they can make food that has no smell or taste, but there you have it. If I told you what the product was I would have to kill you. Got the old man to Dr. Stockman and found out he almost weighs 140 pounds. That is good. I wish I weighed that much. Of course at one point I had to leave the room for the obligatory questions about Viagra. Dr. Stockman pointed out that not only do those drugs not work for him, he has a wife who is NOT interested in sex anymore, and hasn't been since she was eighty-eight.
Off to Cub Foods for ice cream and cereal. The old man picked out eleven, count them, eleven boxes of cereal. Everything from Raisin Bran to Reeses Puffs. "Dad, that cereal is chocolate and peanut butter." I was told to mind my business. By this time his ice cream was starting to melt. He picked out two large Bryer's, four Haagen Dazs, and three Ben and Jerry. I managed to put two of the Haagen Dazs away behind his back as he was studying Ben and Jerry. Nathan's hot dogs, buy one, get one free! He also is becoming addicted to precooked Johnsonville Brats.
By the time I got home I was wiped. I realize that my attitude doesn't help. I am not patient and kind. I am impatient and pissy. Can I blame it on menopause or should I just bite the bullet and blame myself? I am not where I want to be doing what I want to do.
I asked Dr Stockman what was the old man's life expectancy. He said he had already exceeded it. I asked if he could live another five years and was told it was quite possible, or he could pop off at anytime. I have taken on the burden of my parents quite voluntarily. Doe tried to prevent me but it was something I felt I had to do. Now I have to see it through, no matter how long it takes. Please, dear Creator, help me do it with love.
Every now and again I get called to take a taste test. I got to the place and saw posted places where I should park as opposed to general parking. Don't ask me why or how, but I turned into a spot and promptly scraped a brand new, no plates yet, van. I pulled out and parked in the empty next row. I did not even stop to look at my car. Oh my goodness, what have I done? There is a part that wants to run away and pretend it never happened. That is the bad karma creator and the price paid is more than any deductible! I found the owner who was just lovely to me. She had only had the van since Friday and was totally mellow. Not me. But as she pointed out, the work needed to be done whether she flipped out or not. What a woman. She has my information and I am going to pay her deductible. It is not fair for her to suffer for my stupidity. I don't know if I will fix my car or what. New front bumper and light and who knows what? Maybe look into getting something new, or newer. I would like something like an old time Volvo, built like a tank but with better mileage. OY.
Nice taste test. Amazing they can make food that has no smell or taste, but there you have it. If I told you what the product was I would have to kill you. Got the old man to Dr. Stockman and found out he almost weighs 140 pounds. That is good. I wish I weighed that much. Of course at one point I had to leave the room for the obligatory questions about Viagra. Dr. Stockman pointed out that not only do those drugs not work for him, he has a wife who is NOT interested in sex anymore, and hasn't been since she was eighty-eight.
Off to Cub Foods for ice cream and cereal. The old man picked out eleven, count them, eleven boxes of cereal. Everything from Raisin Bran to Reeses Puffs. "Dad, that cereal is chocolate and peanut butter." I was told to mind my business. By this time his ice cream was starting to melt. He picked out two large Bryer's, four Haagen Dazs, and three Ben and Jerry. I managed to put two of the Haagen Dazs away behind his back as he was studying Ben and Jerry. Nathan's hot dogs, buy one, get one free! He also is becoming addicted to precooked Johnsonville Brats.
By the time I got home I was wiped. I realize that my attitude doesn't help. I am not patient and kind. I am impatient and pissy. Can I blame it on menopause or should I just bite the bullet and blame myself? I am not where I want to be doing what I want to do.
I asked Dr Stockman what was the old man's life expectancy. He said he had already exceeded it. I asked if he could live another five years and was told it was quite possible, or he could pop off at anytime. I have taken on the burden of my parents quite voluntarily. Doe tried to prevent me but it was something I felt I had to do. Now I have to see it through, no matter how long it takes. Please, dear Creator, help me do it with love.
This, that, and the other
1. This
Yesterday I looked at places to buy on Craig's List. It is definitely a buyers market. I decided to drive down Cedar Lake Road and look at some of the addresses and see what was happening at open houses. There was an open house in Greenbriar at a town house I can't afford but I had a great talk with the realtor. She is going to show me some things she knows about. I liked two addresses in Ridge Drive. I do not like the ones way down on Cedar Lake Road. They can't seem to give them away. But here is where my philosophical mind gets active. Is it right to ask for a lower price from people who are already in distress? Does this create bad karma, or at least bad real estate karma? As far as short sales go...the bank owns them, I think. If I wanted to live in Brooklyn Park I could get a townhouse for less than sixty thousand. I do not want to live in Brooklyn Park or Center. I do not want to live north. One realtor I spoke with on the phone is going to look into the building near Excelsior Grand. I would love to live on Wolf Park.
It is looking like I can only afford a one bedroom. This makes me a little sad because I have been toying with the idea of doing foster care. I thought of taking in teenagers. This is probably a bad idea because you can't pick and choose and say only give me kids who need temporary shelter while Mom is in the hospital. Don't give me messed up abused kids who need so much more than I can give. Still, the idea of a sweet teenager who needs me is appealing. I am not always a realist.
2. That
After driving around looking at neighborhoods I had an omelet at Perkins and went to see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. It is a conundrum, alright. How to cut the book and still keep the essentials of the story? Erica and I have eaten up all the books on CD. Jim Dale does a fabulous job of reading. The mind can form a picture so quickly from the words, but it does take a very long time to listen to twenty or more discs. Laurel has not read or listened to the books and only knows the story from the movies. She is enjoying each installment and getting the essentials. But I can't help wishing there was more to the films. The suspense of getting across the lake to the false horcrux is just a fraction of the book. The entire battle at Hogwarts is eliminated and although Dumbledore has the same end, the spell he puts on Harry so he can not assist is not shown. Too much quiddich for me, although I can see that the children needed a way to ease the tension. All in all, it was a good film. Was it as good as the book? No, but it did what it needed to do.
3. The other
My sweet sister turned fifty-three years old yesterday. Only grown-ups have sisters that old. If I am four and a half years older, am I grown up? Is she grown-up? Happy birthday, Doe! May this year bring laughter and love and fun and adventure. And, as always, wishing you the very best of health. You deserve it!
Yesterday I looked at places to buy on Craig's List. It is definitely a buyers market. I decided to drive down Cedar Lake Road and look at some of the addresses and see what was happening at open houses. There was an open house in Greenbriar at a town house I can't afford but I had a great talk with the realtor. She is going to show me some things she knows about. I liked two addresses in Ridge Drive. I do not like the ones way down on Cedar Lake Road. They can't seem to give them away. But here is where my philosophical mind gets active. Is it right to ask for a lower price from people who are already in distress? Does this create bad karma, or at least bad real estate karma? As far as short sales go...the bank owns them, I think. If I wanted to live in Brooklyn Park I could get a townhouse for less than sixty thousand. I do not want to live in Brooklyn Park or Center. I do not want to live north. One realtor I spoke with on the phone is going to look into the building near Excelsior Grand. I would love to live on Wolf Park.
It is looking like I can only afford a one bedroom. This makes me a little sad because I have been toying with the idea of doing foster care. I thought of taking in teenagers. This is probably a bad idea because you can't pick and choose and say only give me kids who need temporary shelter while Mom is in the hospital. Don't give me messed up abused kids who need so much more than I can give. Still, the idea of a sweet teenager who needs me is appealing. I am not always a realist.
2. That
After driving around looking at neighborhoods I had an omelet at Perkins and went to see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. It is a conundrum, alright. How to cut the book and still keep the essentials of the story? Erica and I have eaten up all the books on CD. Jim Dale does a fabulous job of reading. The mind can form a picture so quickly from the words, but it does take a very long time to listen to twenty or more discs. Laurel has not read or listened to the books and only knows the story from the movies. She is enjoying each installment and getting the essentials. But I can't help wishing there was more to the films. The suspense of getting across the lake to the false horcrux is just a fraction of the book. The entire battle at Hogwarts is eliminated and although Dumbledore has the same end, the spell he puts on Harry so he can not assist is not shown. Too much quiddich for me, although I can see that the children needed a way to ease the tension. All in all, it was a good film. Was it as good as the book? No, but it did what it needed to do.
3. The other
My sweet sister turned fifty-three years old yesterday. Only grown-ups have sisters that old. If I am four and a half years older, am I grown up? Is she grown-up? Happy birthday, Doe! May this year bring laughter and love and fun and adventure. And, as always, wishing you the very best of health. You deserve it!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Buttons Part 2
Last night I wrote about my own buttons. This morning I pushed some myself. I didn't mean to, honestly I didn't. That is the worst part, I just don't know what I can say that won't cause a reaction. I hate walking around on eggshells. I hate watching every word that comes out of my mouth. I hate living in silence for fear of pushing buttons. I hate hiding upstairs.
Today is a good day to find a place I can afford to rent.
Today is a good day to find a place I can afford to rent.
Buttons
I was going to write about the old man and the way he can push my buttons. And he does, push my buttons, that is. He acts like a petulant child and I go off my rocker. He doesn't learn, and I don't learn. Then I started thinking about other buttons. Scott and I were talking about a conversation we had and he said I said something and I said no I said something else and we each pushed the other's annoyance button. I think he doesn't listen and he thinks either I don't know what I said or that I was unclear. Oh yeah, we all have buttons. Sometimes we see it happening and other times it takes a while to understand that our buttons have been pushed.
I started thinking about other buttons; how we react to other stimuli. Show me a baby and I smile. I can't help it. Kiss the back of my neck and I melt. Be kind to me and I forgive. But what about the more subtle buttons? Show me that you care for me and I care for you. Look like you need me and I will give to you. What is automatic and what is thought out action?
There is a lot of talk about living a mindful life. Of weighing one's actions before acting. About thinking about what we are doing before doing it and seeing if what we are about to do is of benefit to self, community and planet. Sometimes I am defiantly mindful. I know this ice cream or chocolate is not good for weight, cholesterol, or diabetes, yet I eat it. I want what I want when I want it.
What I really want is a positive life with purpose. Right now I can't seem to achieve it. So instead of focusing on working harder at what needs to be done, I will have some ice cream. It makes no sense except that it is something that I can have right now.
There are some phrases that describe my dilemma, ie: can't fight my way out of a paper bag, can't get myself arrested, my own worst enemy, self defeating behavior. I know I have to do it on my own, but I really wish I had a twin who would keep me motivated and on task. (That or a good friend to kick me in the ass.)
What are the buttons I can push to achieve my goals? I'd love to know.
I started thinking about other buttons; how we react to other stimuli. Show me a baby and I smile. I can't help it. Kiss the back of my neck and I melt. Be kind to me and I forgive. But what about the more subtle buttons? Show me that you care for me and I care for you. Look like you need me and I will give to you. What is automatic and what is thought out action?
There is a lot of talk about living a mindful life. Of weighing one's actions before acting. About thinking about what we are doing before doing it and seeing if what we are about to do is of benefit to self, community and planet. Sometimes I am defiantly mindful. I know this ice cream or chocolate is not good for weight, cholesterol, or diabetes, yet I eat it. I want what I want when I want it.
What I really want is a positive life with purpose. Right now I can't seem to achieve it. So instead of focusing on working harder at what needs to be done, I will have some ice cream. It makes no sense except that it is something that I can have right now.
There are some phrases that describe my dilemma, ie: can't fight my way out of a paper bag, can't get myself arrested, my own worst enemy, self defeating behavior. I know I have to do it on my own, but I really wish I had a twin who would keep me motivated and on task. (That or a good friend to kick me in the ass.)
What are the buttons I can push to achieve my goals? I'd love to know.
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