Monday, December 26, 2011
And of course, they wanted to touch everything, and there is nothing kid-friendly about MIL's house. They managed to get through the visit without getting bit by a dog or breaking something.
We once again played Wii on Christmas day. I would have had more fun if it weren't for my back. It has been giving me fits for about three weeks. My weight isn't helping matters much. I need to kick it into high gear and GET THIS WEIGHT OFF!!!! I have zero will power during the holidays. This Christmas there were no green vegetables in sight, I swear. Just lots of carbs and starches.
I put in several job applications. We are in need of some cash flow, and I know that since I am now a graduate, MIL will be asking me when I am getting a job. I want to beat her to the punch!
I really want to hibernate, and it really isn't that bad out. No snow, so that is a huge plus. Maybe we can get through this winter with minimal snow. If we have blue skies, that is always a bonus. The overcast days really depress the hell out of me. The sunshine really helps.
MIL is slamming shit around right now, so I guess she is pissed about something. Guess I better get off of here!
Friday, December 16, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Hope she is somewhere out there, and that she is at peace--and that she still can laugh from her gut until she has tears running down her face.
Here's to you, ES. Maybe we will meet again, someday.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Took some of our crafts into a consignment shop today. Seemed to get a good reception from customers who were looking at the items before they were even tagged for display. Finger's crossed!
While we were in town, I took MIL shopping for the makings of mince meat pie (ugh!). I have a food addiction, but that is not on my list of favorites, not by a long shot. I can't get past the suet. Just thinking about it gets my gag reflex going. I get the same reflex thinking about lard. Many people swear by it, but if I know something has lard in it (like a pie crust), it makes me queasy. Just can't get past the fact that it is animal fat! Strange, I know...anyhooo...as I was going to turn into the strip mall where Kroger's is, I realized too late that I was heading in to the "exit" lane and not the "entrance" lane. There was a car coming out, and the eyes of the woman driving the other car were as wide as saucers. I swerved back out into oncoming traffic and skirted the edge of the curb until I could turn into the "correct" entrance. By then, MIL was laughing her ass off! I mean, total lunatic laugh! She was still laughing 30 minutes later. I told her since she enjoyed near death experiences so much, I was going to drive blindfolded next time...
I intended to spend the whole day doing homework, but maybe managed to get 4 hours worth done. I will tackle more as soon as I post this, as I am not focused enough at the moment to put my head back in a book...
I am not sure, but I think I have cornered the market on dot-dot-dots...
Until next time...dot...dot...dot...
Friday, November 11, 2011
Not looking forward to driving MIL into town for dialysis in this Sh...I mean stuff. Guess she would rather not go to dialysis, so I won't complain too much...
Sunday, November 6, 2011
They had a breakfast available, and I think we were the first served, as we got there 20 minutes early. I was remiss to not bring my camera, but a friend took pics and will be sending them to us shortly.
We really didn't sell much: 2 necktielace sets, 1 mirror, 2 boutonnieres, 1 hair clip, and 1 headband. What we DID accomplish, however, was lots of interest in our unique items. As people began looking at our things, we watched as smiles crossed their faces. I am guessing several crafty people will go home and try to duplicate our items themselves. That's okay--that is what crafty people do. They take ideas and inspiration from things others have crafted.
Etsy is almost up and running. Just getting the paypal and cart/checkout straightened out, then I can start listing our things. YAY!
Have got the other blog up and running as well mymilscreations.blogspot.com, but again, still working on getting the paypal/cart/checkout going. I posted our very first item on the site--horrible picture, as we have a crappy camera, and MIL's is broken. Bummer!
Got a TON of homework to do, so I am off to tackle the mountain. Only 6 more weeks--woohoo!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
An hour later, as I sat here typing away, the bottom of my foot started to burn--REALLY burn. "What the f@#$!" I blurted out. I looked down I to see the wasp stinging the bottom of my foot. It evidently came back in when the social worker arrived.
I set him free, he comes back and stings me. How is that for irony? I wonder what would have befallen me if I had squashed the little bugger....
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
DeeDee's Ham and Bean Soup
1 pound dry great Northern beans
8 cups water
tsp teaspoon salt
1 pound diced smoked ham
1/2 cup diced carrots
1 stalk celery, diced
1/2 cup diced onion
1 tablespoon ham soup base
1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper
Place beans and salt in the water and bring to a boil. Let boil 15 minutes, then cut off the heat and let soak for 4 hours (covered). After 4 hours, drain off the water and add 12 cups of fresh water to the pot. Add ham soup base and diced smoked ham. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low and let simmer for an hour. After an hour, add in your carrots, celery and onions. Once again bring the pot back up to a boil, then reduce heat and allow to simmer for another 40-60 minutes. Beans and veggies should be tender. If not, continue to simmer until beans and veggies are tender. Add white pepper before serving. Serve with cornbread or crusty french bread.
It is going to be a slow road back to recovery for her. I think she expected to feel a lot better sooner. She is healing well, though, and she is doing a great job under the circumstances. She was so happy to just be able to sleep in her own bed!
She had dialysis this morning, and Bud called to say she was having a rough go of it. When she gets dialysis, all the meds in her body get dialysed out--including the pain meds. So it is essentially 4 hours of pain for her right now. Wish I could do the dialysis for her...
It is a very blustery day out today, overcast and bleak. I am going to make a pot of ham and bean soup and a skillet of cornbread, perfect for a cold, yucky day. I am hoping MIL has an appetite and can get a few bites down. I expect she will sleep through most of the day on and off, and that is okay; she needs the rest.
Thanks to all who kept her in your thoughts and prayers. Very, very appreciated.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
So now the poor woman has to deal with both dialysis and having her chest cracked open on Friday. She is taking it amazingly well. She is of course scared, but she has accepted that it has to be done and there is not a whole lot she can do about it.
This is a major deja vu for me--takes me back to when ES was in T-town and had her leg amputated. Drove 45 miles every day after work to go see her while she was in the hospital. Guess how far Kzoo is from here? Yup, just over 45 miles. At least this time, Bud and I are dealing with it together. When ES was int he hospital, if you were a follower of the other blog, the Self-Sustaining Kitchen( http://bamagalskitchen.blogspot.com/ --it is still up and running--go there for a lot of background and more on this storyline), you know that right after ES had the amputation, Bud had to rush to Michigan because his mom had had a heart attack, and his dad was in the hospital as well...not a pleasant time in our lives to say the least.
Mom is scheduled to have surgery on Friday, and Bud and I have been operating on little to no sleep; calling friends and family to keep them updated; trying to not have meltdown. I just did all the homework for one of my classes in record speed. My brain is thoroughly fried.
MIL, ever the worrier, is focusing not on her pending surgery, but rather on the fact that she was supposed to get her car serviced on Friday, was supposed to meet a friend for lunch this week, and oh, yeah, Peanut, the Jekyll-Hyde dog, was supposed to go get her annual booster shots. Not to mention that she had a ton of crafting projects she was working on that she had planned on finishing...gotta love her. She is obsessive-compulsive-and-very-likely-insane.
Keep her in your thoughts, everyone--all three of you intrepid followers!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
I didn't lose one dang ounce this month. I am irritated with myself, as I went over calories 19 times in the last 30 days. Stress eating is a killer, I tell ya. Four of the 19 days were just in the last week. Couldn't have anything to do with the fact that we are broke, could it?
On the upside, hubby and I got a last minute call for a karaoke gig. Of course, we jumped on it. Mind you, I only had 4 hours sleep on the previous evening, and I was already yawning when the call came. I am so glad we did it, as we got paid way, way more than we would have charged. That was a nice perk this week. We were able to fill the van with gas, buy some much-needed items, as we still have money in our pockets! Bud was able to take MIL out to eat Sunday so I could get homework and midterms done (thanks, hubby!), and we are taking her out again tomorrow after we take Bud's cousin (the one he donated a kidney to) to an appointment.
One of my SWs is in the hospital with influenza, bronchitis, and pneumonia. They couldn't get her oxygen in the "safe" zone, so they are giving her oxygen and steroids so she can breath better. Doesn't help that she suffers from asthma...
Hubby has a "to-do"list a half-mile long that he has imposed on himself. Well, semi-imposed. Some are things his mom wants done and that he agreed to do. Staying busy is a good thing, though.
Speaking of valleys, peaks and plateaus, I hope we get out of this valley of dept, find the highest peak, and plateau there for a while so we can actually NOT have financial stress for a while. It is something we would both like to experience once before we die, anyway...
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
This time around, I am trying hard to stay focused on it. Not an easy task. We are now talking about the time value of money--in other words, taking advantage of investing opportunities and discounts. I find myself completely lost most of the time, and I ask LOTS of questions. I am sure the professor thinks I am a total idiot: "So, Ms. Weiser, you want to go into the business field? I would advise getting an accountant to help you out..."
Okay, he didn't say that, but boy, do I feel like I am just not getting it! I will be glad when this class is over. I will be glad when ALL my classes are over for a while. I keep telling myself that I will go back and get my MBA at some point, but do I really need to pursue a masters when I am approaching my geriatric years? I will never be a Donald Trump, but I would like to think that my education is an investment that will lead to a greater return in the future. Gee, maybe I am getting this concept of the time value of money...they sure are taking enough of it right now!
We are Broke with a capital "B" right now--can't even run to town to buy a paper, as we don't have the gas to burn, and we don't have the 75 cents for a paper. BUT--we have a roof over our heads, and there is food in the house, so I am NOT bitchin'. It just feels aweful to have no money in the bank, no money in my billfold, and social security benefits are drying up faster than a rain puddle in mid-August. Let's not go there. My mental health is hanging by a thread these days, and I don't have the dexterity anymore to tie a knot...
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
I actually enjoyed my shopping experience with MIL. She was like a little kid at Christmas, and I was glad to see her so happy.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
goes to bed, when she will eat, when she wants to be picked up, and her position on MIL's lap. She allows one of the other dogs, Suzie, to get up in the chair with MIL, but she will growl and glare at her to get off of MILs lap and move to the side so she can have the coveted lap position. Look at that evil glow in her eye--possessed, I tell ya. Mind you, our dog, Ghost, could chomp her in one bite. Don't think the thought hasn't crossed her mind, as I have seen the look in Ghost's eye many a time: "I could swallow you whole, you little hefer. Don't mess with me!"
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
I actually did start researching my papers two weeks ago, saving links to websites I thought I could use in folders labeled for each class. That is something I haven't done before. When it comes to actually writing, however, I always, ALWAYS wait until the 11th hour to get them done.
I don't know why I do it. The stress builds until I think my head is going to explode. But it has become a ritual of mine. A few semesters ago, I wrote one paper two hours before it was due. I got a 94% on it. I didn't even spell/grammar check it, as I got it done two minutes before it was due, so I just submitted it as is.
I told Bud that I think I could do term paper writing for a living. No joke. No matter how much of a rush job I do, I always get a 90% or better on my papers. I actually like the research, and I like composing. I think I even like a little bull-sh*ting, too, to amuse myself. So why wait until the last minute?
I think it has something to do with liking challenges. Spending 3 weeks researching and writing a paper is not a challenge. Getting a quality, 3000 word paper done in 3 days, now THAT is a challenge! Unfortunately, as my previous posts confirms, it also ads beau coup stress and anxiety, not to mention loss of sleep. (thank you, hubby, for the sleeping pill last night. I slept soundly--but boy, did I have some strange dreams!)
As you can see, I am procrastinating as we speak. The other paper still needs to be written. I have already taken two breaks--one to vacuum the house and put up a broom/mop organizer, the other to make myself some lunch. Bud and MIL went to an RV show to give me some quiet, focused time to get my work done, and it has helped immensely. Still hasn't stopped me from procrastinating.
Sigh. Okay, okay, I am heading back to the other computer terminal to get the other paper going. (it is technically started, I have several websites bookmarked.)
***I got a 99.6% on my first paper. Did I not tell you I am a paper writing fool? Just turned in my second term paper at 10:35pm Sunday--it had to be in by 11:59pm. Look how much time I had left!***
***100% on my second term paper. nuf said...***
Friday, August 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Anyhoo, back to the call. When I answered the phone, it was MIL. She calmly says, "My heart rate and blood pressure are really high, and they want me to go to the ER and get an EKG. Can you guys come to the hospital and meet me there?" Just calm as can be. MY heart rate and blood pressure instantly went up a few notches. I told her we would of course be right there.
I got Bud up and we were heading to the hospital within 10 minutes. When we got there, we noticed her car was there. "What the Hell?!?" She drove herself to the ER! My first thought was, "negligence". How can any health care facility send someone who may be undergoing a heart attack to the ER driving themselves?
When we got inside, MIL was just having an EKG done, so we waited until the tech was done. Once he was done, we asked why in the heck she drove herself. She stated that they asked her at dialysis if she was able to drive herself, and she said yes. I asked if they had her sign a waiver or anything, and she said no. So basically, then let her drive herself across town, not certain whether she was in the beginning stages of a heart attack. Special, no?
When they came in to put the patient ID bracelet on her, she got agitated. "You aren't admitting me, are you?" The woman assured her that it was SOP and that she had no idea if she would be admitted or not--that was up to the doctor.
Because her heart rate was so high and was not coming down on its own, they gave her a dose of cardizem intravenously. The doctor told her that they may decide to keep her overnight to observe her if it didn't come down. That made MIL mad. She said she had plans for the next day (she left about an hour ago with a friend of hers to go to a specialty fabric store) and didn't want to be admitted.
MIL has a huge distrust of doctors. She has never had a family doctor. For one, she is afraid that they will find something wrong--her biggest fear is cancer. She also believes that they have too much control and will order a bunch of tests that she doesn't need because in her mind, doctors are after everyone's money.
Imagine her relief when the doctor told her that they weren't going to admit her, but they were going to adjust her b.p. meds. She was having Atrial fibrillation, which is when the atrial chamber flutters and pools blood before finally contracting. This can actually be very serious if not treated, as blood clots can form when the blood is pooled in the atrium. The only thing she could think about, however, was the fact that she was supposed to return a video to a friend at 3pm, and her plans to go fabric shopping with her friend today. Thank goodness she wasn't admitted, right?
MIL is amazing. I have known a lot of people on dialysis, and most are wiped out afterwards. Not MIL. She will run to the store, go out for lunch with friends, head to Mishawaka for something she must have...she can't sit still. She will nod off in her recliner in the afternoon, and she is baffled why she is so tired and can't keep her eyes open. At the Blueberry Fest on Saturday, she was mad that she was tired after only FIVE HOURS of walking and shopping. She is 75 years old, but wears my ass out!
My bet is on MIL. She is going to outlive us all.
Monday, August 15, 2011
When we left at 9 in the morning, we noted that it "appeared a little dark" to our West. Guess where South Haven is? Yup. Before we had driven 10 miles, we were getting sprinkles on the windshield. We laughed and optimistically convinced one another that the sprinkles would clear before we got to South Haven.
72 miles later, and 2.5 miles from our destination, all Hell broke loose. It was raining so hard, it was hard to see where the heck we were going. We made it, and it seemed like maybe it was letting up a bit. We parked the car about 2 blocks from the main drag where all the action was going on, grabbed the umbrella, and started hoofing it. Within 20 minutes, it was POURING again. We ducked into a bakery, MIL's favorite venue, and bought several rolls. The place was packed, but we got served within 10 minutes. We each ate a roll under the awning outside of the bakery, waiting for the rain to let up. I put the remaining rolls in my purse in an attempt to keep them dry.
MIL's umbrella is so huge, it was not practical among the tents (which, due to the rain, had closed their flaps and or covered their merchandise with tarps), so I ended up giving up and closing it. Before long, we were both soaked to the skin. We both wore sandals, and we were squishing as we walked. MIL suggested we drop off the merchandise we had purchased thus far in the car. I told her we could sit in car and warm up a bit, which she said sounded like a good idea.
She unlocked the car, and popped the trunk. I ditched the umbrella and our merchandise, unloaded the rolls from my purse, shut the trunk, and headed to the passenger side to get in. MIL yells, "WAIT!" She then slams the door she had open and locks the car. I gave her a "WTF?" look, and she expounds, "I don't want to get the seats wet!" I shit you not. So we are standing there, getting more soaked, if that is possible. The water in the street is already over the tops of my feet, and she doesn't want to get her seats wet?
I looked around at all the crazy people enduring the downpour, then realized I WAS one of those crazy people. It finally got so bad, we ducked into a shop doorway, backs to the wind-driven rain. MIL took one look at me--and busted out laughing. I thought she was going to pee herself. My hair was matted to my head, and I had rivulets of rain running down my face and dripping off my chin(s). She was laughing so hard, I thought she was crying, but it was hard to tell, as she had water dripping of her eyebrows and nose.
A kind sales lady offered us a paper towel each, smiling apologetically for not offering more. (We couldn't enter the door, as it was blocked by a display table. I told MIL she could probably get in if she got on her hands and knees and sucked in real hard...) We watched as many people strolled by in rain gear. MIL exclaimed, "hey, I have that rain gear at home we could have worn...."
We must have walked 10 miles and went into every shop. We looked at a lot of great stuff we couldn't afford. We ate lunch in a packed restaurant, where the only seats available were at a very small table RIGHT by entry door and in front of the big window. I almost blew ice tea out my nose when the first batch of people pressed their faces against the glass window right where we were sitting to see how packed it was inside. I honestly felt like a zoo animal on display. It was hilarious. I dared MIL to make a face at one of them, but she chickened out.
After our bellies were full, we walked another 10 miles and tried to find shops and booths we HADN'T been in already. The weather made the arthritis in my hips and knee flair up, and I took it as long as I could before letting MIL know that I needed to take one of my arthritis pills. Of course, we weren't anywhere near a place that sold water, so we hoofed it down to the shops along the riverwalk where they sell a lot of junk food and beverages. I got us two waters, and I took my painpill and we rested a bit. It was then we realized that we had come downhill, which meant we had to hoof it UPhill to get back to the car. UGH!
We had to stop 3 times on the way up to rest. I was freakin' scared that MIL was going to have a coronary right there. We debated on asking a hulking muscle-bound body builder how much he would charge to carry us the rest of the way up the hill...
We made it, though. By this time, it was sunny and beautiful out. We air dried in no time, and things were looking up. We decided to leave around 3pm, as we still had a 72 mile drive home. As we headed East, MIL looked in her rear-view mirror and exclaimed, "wow, it sure is getting dark back there..."
We were surrounded by ominous clouds three quarters of the drive home. We eventually had to turn south, and that is when Hell-Breaks-Loose Volume II took place. Less than 20 miles from home, those dark clouds from the West slammed into us with gale-force wind intensity. MIL had to pull over as we watched the rain coming in side-ways sheets across the pavement. Trees looked like they were going to snap in two. It eventually passed, and we got back on the road. Five minutes later, Hell-Breaks-Loose Volume III erupted. It began to hail dime-sized frozen nuggets. It sounded like we were being pelted with rocks. Again, MIL had to pull over.
We made it home safely, but frayed around the edges. We were both exhausted. I went to bed early that night. MIL kept complaining about acid reflux, and later that evening, she said her heart kept fluttering...More on that in the next post. I have to get back to homework.
Monday, August 8, 2011
As you know, I am taking a full boatload of classes this semester, in addition to having "chores" to complete here at MIL's, since we are living here for free and I am not employed. I still, however, have the OCD need to finish my badges each week. I knew with the yard sale, two mid-terms, and a paper to write, I was going to have limited time to complete my badges, which come out every Wednesday. Long story short, I completed all the little beggars Wednesday night. Stayed up until 2 in the morning, glossy-eyed and determined to get them done before I went to bed.
Don't get me wrong. There are several of the games that I deem great for mental acuity. They require strategy, eye to hand coordination, powers of observation, and memory exercises. These are all good. But there is, inevitably, the mind-numbing, zero-ability, BORING ones as well. Yet I push myself to get the badge anyway.
Nothing, NOTHING is worse than the slot machine games. ACH! I am twitching just thinking about them. Click. Click. Click. Click. I have decided that Hell would be pricing yard sale items AND being forced to play slot machines.
It used to be you had the chance to win up to $4999 (if you were a member). They recently changed it to a much smaller amount, but they threw in a bunch more opportunities to win worthless crap like mugs and hats. Woooo hoooo!
Would you like to check out my obsession? Be forewarned, it is addictive. You don't have to become a member, you can play for free. The only difference is you are limited as to which games you can play, and you are subjected to ads.
I, of course, blame my obsession on ES. She is the one who got me hooked. When she told me about it, I scoffed, saying I didn't like video games, so I surely would not like POGO. Unfortunately, I have a secret competitive gene. My father and brothers are all fierce competitors. I would inevitable end up crying whenever I played even board games with them, because they are cut-throat and vicious when they do anything competitive. Heck, they can turn go-fish into a maniacal competition...I am not competitive with PEOPLE. I am competitive with myself--and those damn robots on POGO. I recently yelled at one, "DIE, YOU DAMN CHEATING BUCKET OF BOLTS!"
Yeah, I need help. If you would like to share in my addiction, here is the link to POGO. My POGO name is Deelovesbud. I am now officially a pusher, and POGO is the drug.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
In preparation, she dragged out bags and boxes, or rather, my nephew and SIL dragged out bags and boxes, from the shed. Most had mouse turds or mouse pee, and they reeked. Special! We are putting more time in to cleaning the sh-- I mean treasures up than they are worth. Seriously, she has so many chotchkies it is ridiculous. Oh, for those who have never heard of a chotchkie, Urban Dictionary defines it as the following:
"A small piece of worthless crap, a decorative knick knack with little or no purpose. Side note: Chotchkie can be pretty, sentimental, or even occasionally useful though it usually breaks easily if useful. If you are having trouble identifying Chotchkie just look around your house or someone else's and whatever you see that a burglar wouldn't steal is probably Chotchkie.
Fake fruit, a ceramic frog containing candy, pretty much anything purchased at a dollar store, costume jewelry, etc."
Amen, Urban Dictionary. Amen. Worthless crap indeed. Heck, the mouse turds have more value than some of the sh-- I mean, treasures, she is trying to sell. We spent hours pricing all that crap, and the whole while I am thinking, "Put it all on the front lawn with a giant "FREE" sign and be done with it." Dang, can you tell this is getting on my last nerve?
Don't get me wrong. I do love my MIL. She just comes up with "great ideas" that translate into lots and lots of pointless work. She will sell a few things, I am sure. Like the motorcycle leather coat, pants, and chaps, and the motorcycle intercom system. The rest? She should have just rented a dumpster. I'm just sayin'...
I have a ton of homework to do, and I have been spending more time lugging, washing, labeling, and cussing than I care to admit. On a positive note, my hubby is taking one for the Gipper, as they say. He is going with MIL to Amish Acres tomorrow morning. Acres and acres of vendors, set up in an open field on a hot, humid day. She really wants to go, but Bud knew that I had all this homework to get done, so he is going with her and leaving me home in the peace and quiet. Oh, how I love that man!
If there is a Hell, and I end up there, I will probably be stuck labeling chotchkies...
Friday, July 22, 2011
4-5 cups cut rhubarb (1/2 inch to 1" pieces)
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1 1/4 cup sugar
pie crust (mom made her own crust, but a store-bought crust will do just fine)
Place the rhubarb in a prepared pie crust, spreading evenly.
Whip the eggs, nutmeg, and sugar until nice and fluffy
Pour over rhubarb.
Bake at 400 degrees for one hour, testing for doneness at about 50 minutes and continuing to check every 10 minutes until done.
Mmmmm, mmmmm, good! Serve with a dollop of fresh whipped cream--to die for. CAUTION! This is not calorie-free. This has been a public service announcement from the women who consumed 4 slices of the pie in a two-day time span, thus blowing her calories for the day. Over and out.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
I shouldn't be surprised. With all the lifting and transferring of Mr. M, it was bound to happen. That for sure weakened the area. But when did it happen? Embarrassingly, on the toilet, straining with diarrhea. (This blog is not for the weak of stomach; I swear, I will talk about anything!).
The second hernia is a belly button hernia, at the top of my hysterectomy incision. I had one in the same spot before, and had it repaired. This one is on the other side of my belly button.
Sooooo, my guts are spilling out in two places. Yippee. It doesn't hurt at all, but it is disconcerting, as now I can't do anything for Mr. M and Ms. C. That means that we are moving out soon. No point staying here if I can't be of help.
This will be move number 5 in 18 months. We are heading back to my MIL's home, which is the first move we made 18 months ago. We have come full circle. I guess I am just not meant to live in Alabama, because we keep ending up in Michigan. Peachy.
School will start back up for me the day after we get back, so I will not even get a rest before I have to start hitting the books again. And I am taking three classes in a compressed 8 week semester--should be a blast.
Man, do I like to bitch or what? Count your blessings, Miss Whineypants...
Friday, June 17, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
I have lost 12 pounds in 8 weeks. My goal is 1.5 pounds a week, so I am pretty on target. I drink 8 12 ounce glasses of water a day, so I know it isn't water weight I am losing. I was feeling the difference until today. For the last two days, I have spent a lot of time sitting in front of the computer, so my calves and ankles are swollen. My hands have been swelling as well, and my wedding band is as tight as can be. OUCH! I need to make sure and get off my arse tomorrow so I can get back where I was a week ago.
I am going to post a picture each month to record my weight loss. This picture was taken two years ago, but it is the same weight I am at now--I had actually put on 12 pounds since that picture was taken. UGH.
I am trying to not be bored, but it is hard. I have been working on my novel, and have added about 50 pages, so that is good. I play POGO, and I try and be creative cooking. Any little thing to keep me going. We are broke, which means we can't go anywhere, do anything, buy anything. Living on only Hubby's Social Security means times are lean indeed.
I keep saying my Hail Mary's that we will see better times soon. I know I should be thankful for what we got. People have lost homes from floods, tornadoes, and wild fires. They have lost homes from loss of jobs, and there aren't any out there to be had. I know--I have been looking for six months for something closer than Tupelo or Tuscaloosa, but there just isn't anything available.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
I was a single mom until Joe turned 5, and then his biological father (The Sperm Donor, BS) decided he was going to be a part of his life and started visitation. It wasn't court ordered; It was only every-other-weekend, and Joe seemed to enjoy himself and look forward to the visits. BS never asked for joint custody--until I started dating and subsequently marrying my hubby. Then all Hell broke loose.
It was miserable for all of us, and most of all, for Joe. We battled in court twice. The second time, I lost physical custody of Joe. You may ask, "How in the Hell did you lose custody of the child you raised?" It wasn't pretty, that is for sure. It was heartbreaking, and it was ugly. And it meant that my relationship with my son would forever be changed.
We aren't close. I used to worry about him constantly, feel guilty constantly. To this day, I am sure I am going to get a call that he has been killed or has killed himself. He is mentally ill, and does not take his medication regularly. It is either when he has to be admitted to stabilize himself, or when he has enough money to pay for his meds. Most times, he foregoes getting his meds and buys cigarettes instead.
We get infrequent calls, and he is never in the same place twice. He has had more "homes"--again, using a term lightly--than most people have in a lifetime. He always seeks approval, so desparate for love and positive attention.
He has made some aweful choices for himself in the past. He is so naive, so trusting of people. Inevitably, he gets his heart broken, or is taken advantage of and is left on the streets with no money. He is drawn to those like himself--he meets most of his so-called friends in treatment centers. That goes ditto for his girlfriends. Most of the women he meets are homeless, no source of income, and single mothers. I think every last one of the women he has been with have been older. I think in some ways, he is looking for a maternal figure, someone to take care of him. In his mind, it is he that is going to take care of them, however.
The relationships are short lived, and it always leaves Joe spiralling into a deep depression with suicidal thoughts. I know what must be going through his head: "I am not good enough for anyone. No one loves me. I am disposible."
He of course would feel that way. That is my dark secret: I gave my son away to the devil himself. I sacrificed motherhood in an attempt to keep the peace with everyone. I desparately wanted to keep my husband; I didn't want to keep fighting with BS; I was sick of court battles where I inevitably came out looking like an over-emotional basket case. Hell, even hubby said I was not fit to be a mom. So I got what I deserved. But Joe didn't deserve this. He really didn't.
We have rescued Joe twice. Once it was in Birmingham. He was in the hospital after cutting himself dozens of times. He had been living on the streets, and we hadn't heard from him in ages. We tried to help him, but he didn't want to follow rules. He was 19, and didn't want any responsibility.
The next time was after he got kicked out of his girlfriend's house. She took his money, and kicked him out. He stayed with us about a month that time. He really was doing a good job (for Joe), but my sisterwife couldn't stand him. She called him "a worthless excuse of a human being". That cut my heart to pieces. She despised him, and wanted him gone. For his own safety, both physical and mental, I let him go. That was the last time I saw him...4 years ago.
I know he wants to come home. He is weary and homesick. He hasn't seen family in about two years. I can't help him--we are technically homeless ourselves, save for living with the people we are taking care of.
So that is the ugly burden I carry. I am not much of a mom. I crave calls from Joe, but when he does, I can't stand talking to him. It is too painful. I deserve the pain. I deserve to have it crammed down my throat. But I avoid it. I am a coward.
Happy Mother's Day.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
He appears to be a pit bull mix, and like I said, he is one BIG ASS DOG. And he is in heat; and Dixie is not fixed. Now Dixie is a Tsih Tsu as I have mentioned before, or as I like to call her, Little Shit. Big Ass Dog would go to smell her, and she would begin yipping in his face, making him jump straight in the air off his feet.
This dog is somebody's baby. He has been howling and crying all night, scratching at the door, whimpering, and being just pitiful. Trying to find the owner to no avail...
The dog is a ball of energy. I don't think he is much older than a year or two--too much puppy still in him. He won't sit still. The only time I managed to get a good picture of him was when he was flowering the weeds:
As said, Big Ass Dog is a handsome fellow, and someone out there is probably missing him dearly. This county does not have a humane society or a dog pound, so there is really no place to take him. In the mean time, Little Shit is yip-barking non-stop, and Ghost is ready for him to leave her property (she thinks this is her property and runs everyone off: mailmen, garbagemen, and any visitor she hasn't met yet). Having this big brute of a dog in the yard is disconcerting to her.
Hopefully, we will find its home. There are lots and lots of stray dogs and cats in this county, as people tend to just drop them off on the side of the road.
Fingers-crossed that this is not the case with this dog. Seems unlikely, as he is a nice dog. He could have chomped Little Shit in two, but he is actually a little intimidated by Her Highness. Guess we will see....maybe he is an alien....
Sunday, April 24, 2011
I tried to take a picture of it, but the bird was camera shy and I couuldn't get a good shot. Soooo, I went to my source for everything, the World Wide Web, and discovered that the huge woodpecker is, in fact, a Pileated Woodpecker. I learned that over the last 2 centuries, their numbers greatly declined with the increase in logging, but the ingenious birds have learned to adapt and are making a comeback. Yeah!
These birds are beautiful, and I am so glad I got to see one up close. It is larger than a crow, but not as big as the buzzards that seem to be everywhere (ugh).
It is wonderfully quiet right now. Not like 3 hours ago at 6am, when the yipping dog from hell woke me up. Dixie is a bona-fide bitch. She is a shih tzu, but I just call her a shit. Grrrrrrrrrr!
I guess I can't complain, as it got my butt out of bed so that I would be up to see the giant woody. And I had computer time to not only post this post, but to get my essay assignment turned in--yay me!
The honeysuckle is in bloom, so I shant stay mad long. I do get grumpy when I miss my beauty sleep....
Happy Easter, everyone.