Weekend Update On The Delay

This weekend was terrific.

Saturday the kids and I got to play super heroes together. There are enough capes for everyone here. 

I love to watch my kids play together.  They are very open and affectionate with one another.  N holds E’s hand, gives her kisses.  She is ever the big sister.  We still have to keep her from speaking for him or he won’t talk—or better, I like it when he talks over her.  It’s hard to teach the don’t interrupt thing, when she’s the one interrupting him first.

Sunday, I went w R to have his tattoo done.  So, it is official now.  I have finally corrupted him.  Despite the fact that he has wanted a tattoo longer than he has known me, I am officially to blame, since I am the one w several tattoos. 

He got a teal ribbon tattooed on his upper bicep/shoulder, in honor of his mother’s passing from ovarian cancer.  Sunday was her birthday.

If ever you need a tattoo—Jason Conrad at Cheap Trx in St Louis, MO.  Best artist in the world.  My only other shout out for a tattoo artist is Bryn at the Ink Well in Weirton, WV.  I recommend no others except these two.

The ribbon has the texture drawn into it, as if it were really actual fabric.  It’s very well done. 

He also took me to see his mother’s tree.  He’s driven us by it before, but this was the first time he took me over to see it.  I was touched.

E and I spent the night as his place Sunday night.

Monday.  E and I were on our own.  It was awesome. 

We took a walk.  Just the two of us.

So, my original intent was to go look at a couple houses for sale within walking distance of R’s house.  It turned into something else. 

I hate to drive.  The road is full of ignorant people who don’t care about anyone else other than themselves.  I have always hated to drive.  The only reason I got my driver’s license, really, was because when my grandfather died, my grandmother couldn’t drive.  She was literally stuck at home.  Not within walking distance of squat.  She hated, hated, hated, to have to wait on people to give her rides.  She also needed to get a job; she needed to be able to drive herself to work.  So she had to learn.  She was not the best driver in the world, by any means. 

I hate to drive, but I wanted to know how, just in case.

See, I always thought I would get married and stay married.  That’s what I had wanted all along, even as I figured out pretty quick when dating entered my life, I was not a one man type of woman, unless the man was extraordinary.  I am still that same person in many ways too.  For me, marriage was and is the same—it is a vow—to death do we part.  My divorce didn’t kill me…heck, my divorce wasn’t a divorce except on paper.  I was already dead before he asked me to marry him—his asking me to marry him was his way of making up for killing me.  He told me that, in different words.  More than once.  We were already living together again before the divorce was final.  With me pregnant by my after separation fling. 

That final break was not the end of a marriage—it was a resurrection of sorts.  Unfortunately, I chose poorly in my next choice.  I was looking, but not, for a man to replace him.  After having belonged to a single man for so long, after my upbringing and thought process, my conditioning, I had to find a man, right?  But, I don’t go looking.  I never have.  I never do.  They come to me.  One way or another.  This one came to my school as a teacher.  I had to break with him in order to find me again.  And, as I say every day, I am utterly grateful that he is such a colossal –whatever he is.   If he were not so 180 from what he says he is, I would have never found what I needed to grow, to heal and/or to move on from that divorce.  If he ever learns how to communicate with others in a real sense, a miracle will have occurred…I swear it.  I tell you, the worst people make the best teachers.  Seriously. 

Technically, the ex brought my current boyfriend into my life.  Does that count as him finding me?

It took several years after my son’s dad for me to heal enough to do anything.  That man is a lying treacherous manipulative snake.  But he swears it is because he has the best of intentions.  What is worse is – he is being honest.  He truly thinks the way he treats me and deals with me, since he met me in 2002, has been with the best of intentions and respect and etc etc.  One day, the gods will turn his actions upon him and will show him the error of his ways.

I will not be there to see that.  I do not want to see it.  I wish it could be avoided, but the man has chosen his own path.  He has to walk the path he has chosen.  Not my stuff.  Not my issue.  I won’t have to deal with it when the time comes, even though he will reach out.

This is about the walk we took, isn’t it? 

I used to walk everywhere.  When I was in high school.  After high school.  I didn’t want the responsibility of a car anyway.  I didn’t want to drive. 

I liked walking.  I could and would walk for miles and miles every day.

I won’t walk where I live now.  It’s actually a fairly safe place, don’t get me wrong.  If it is safe enough for mothers to turn out 4 and 5 year olds to run in the gangs through the streets, knowing that the other mothers keep an eye out as well, it is safe enough for me to walk.

Except—I tend to attract—the strangest elements.  I seem to have this scent that attracts the lizards and Klingons.  Lizards are the men that no one else would touch even after inhaling a bottle of cheap tequila in under five minutes.  Klingons are not just women, but, for me, it's gay men or women who aren’t hitting on me, but ‘need’ me for the company—and they are not people I want to hang out or around with….like a complete stranger who is suddenly your bestest friend in less than five minutes…you already know her life story and the bartender just brought your drink order to you sort of person right after you sit down.

I will not take my daughter out in an environment where I know that one out of every twenty men that wander here will follow me home, trying to play their game and roll me with their sweet talk.  I am not kidding or exaggerating.  I get these guys trying to talk to me when I take out the trash, or mow the lawn, or get the mail.  Really.  Really annoying.  Above all else, they do not need to be aware that I live alone with a young daughter and a dog that is useless for family protection.  I spend more time protecting her than vice versa—although she is young yet—there may be hope for her. 

My dog is actually my other reason.  Yes, mothers keep an eye out on the groups of kids that wander.  But no one really pays much mind to the people walking their dogs.  One, when I used to walk my old dog, other stray dogs would try to start fights.  My dog then was a coward too and I was the one fighting dogs off.  And yes, I will.  I have no compunction about stepping in between dogs.  It’s only blood and it’s only stitches.  I have the attitude.  I usually keep my hair covered, since dogs/wolves/etc have less respect for the blonde as they are normally aberrations in the pack.  Female and blonde means very inferior.  Only—I am an Alpha.  It may not always be immediately apparent.  I have been the cowed down one for too long in my life.  But I am the Alpha and I know the role.  Plus, with all my studying and background, I know most breeds fairly well.  It’s like dealing with people.  You kick them in the right place, you win the fight –speaking of people.  I have never had to do more than tap a dog on the nose, literally, not hit them, tap them.  Although I did think my other dog was going to kill some stupid stray once.  It’s not the pitbull half of her to worry about—it’s the chow part.  Chows are scary. (yes, both of my boyfriend’s dogs are part chow…I know….)  Pitbulls, I love, hands down, every time.  The best dogs in the world.  Ask Petey of the Little Rascals—he’ll tell you the same.

But I know there are a group of kids who walk their part chow dog around this neighborhood, trying to start a dog fight with any dog out.  I have been told about them sending the dog after cats.  The cats do not win.  I do not want any part of that.  Period.  I will not take my dumb dog out into that, because I’ll end up going to jail for beating the heck out of some stupid little kids.  Plus, my dog is dumb enough and friendly enough.  Most people around here are afraid of her based entirely on her size alone.  I want to encourage that fear, because up close and personal, this dog will lick you to death.  Or pee on your shoe maybe.  She is not a guard dog.  Unless you are a bird or a squirrel.  She’s a love puppy—she wants to be petted.  She is uber needy.  So not the dog I was hoping to get—even though I wouldn’t trade her for anything.  Most days, at least. 

The walk.  Right.  I wander.  I know.

This walk was great.  There were few people.  Those we passed did talk to us, but that was good.  I was never worried about anyone following us home.  Plus, this is my favorite time of year.  Chilly, wind blowing, leaves turning.  We saw about four houses for sale.  Got flyers for the two that had them.  Found the yarn for W that I have been going nuts trying to find (red heart baby cloud) and bought two skeins, just in case….

We walked all the way to the thrift store and I let E look around to her heart’s content.

E found a funky blue hat.  And a killer pair of boots with mega high platform heels.    She is utterly proud of herself.  I found a children’s book of Zen shorts.  I will not classify myself as Zen nor Buddhist.  But I do have a great appreciation for Zen, deep down.  Thanks to the ex, Buddhism is in the distrusted organized religion category, along w so many others.  It was a very fruitful day.  Plus, as we were heading back to R’s house, he drove by and picked us up.  He’d worked through lunch and was home early.  It was terrific.

We even had a great dinner at a very nice restaurant. 

My only issue was I took two different sorts of allergy meds that day, and they made me very tired.  It is the only time I have not gotten out of bed to escort R to the door, after he’s brought us home and is returning to his.  I don’t really think I was awake after I heard the front door close.

I miss walking like that.  I miss feeling the air.  Talking to people.  Not worrying about the lizards and Klingons, well, at least not so much.  And I love spending time w R, in any capacity.  Even when I am tired, confused, groggy and medicated.  He is an amazing man.  He takes such wonderful care of me.  It’s the small things he does that really mean so much.  Not that the bigger things are shabby, but it’s the small stuff that touches me more deeply, that embeds itself in my heart and my memory.  I like that.  I am so not used to it.  But I really like it.  I could get used to that—without taking it for granted or taking advantage of it.  It means a lot to me. 

Here’s to more days like this weekend and Monday, well, without the allergy med fatigue and fugue anyway. 

May we all live in peace together.  Always.

The Good Dog

She really is a good dog...really...

The Girl

You saw what N sleeps w -- here's what E sleeps w--that you can see--not including the books and notebooks and pens under the pillow--or the toys under the blanket w her...

Kendall the Prairie Dog

My daughter loves her prairie bonnet...so much so she has to share it w the dog. Kendall is far less appreciative of the darn thing...

Fine-I Am Stalling

I have a ton of laundry waiting to be folded--and I really need to strip my bed...and it is almost 11 at night.
Am I afraid? Not in the least. :-) Which is why I am sitting here at the keyboard with fingers flying rather than toiling away over the dread laundry.

This weekend was interesting.
After scaring the heck out of me w N and his first day of "official" public school awhile back, the ex this Friday past tells me how this year of school is going to be like N's last year of school--N has been in school all year round for two years now. The kid turns six in September. My mouth is shut there--really.

T said N's day is morning with his regular 'person' there to 'help keep N in line' which means a person to shove N into a little box and turn him into a mindless automaton like every other kid around-learn the test so we can pass you and get the government money while not actually educating you--and yes--I've done the research on St Louis public schools--thanks to the ex hub's whatever he calls her (which is apparently what he still calls her, strangely enough, (his) whatever you call her) --but she actually gave me a great deal of leads on the St Louis public school system...eons ago. Anyway. Mornings for N being shoved into a narrow closed-in box. Afternoons w speech therapy and everything else they do with the --retards (I use term this in the same sense and manner Maria Montessori did in her books--I sure as heck do NOT condone my child being labeled as such--but there is no other way to put it...).

Well, this weekend I proved the kid has issues hearing out of one ear. In front of another adult witness too. And T keeps telling me there is nothing wrong w N's hearing---just like there is nothing wrong w N's teeth, which are rotting literally and visibly right out of his head. It's all me. I know. What do I know?

I watched the ex bully my son while the boy was obviously tired and just as obviously hungry on Friday at the drop off--and I know the stupid man meant well--because he can't see past the nose on the end of his face--he really thinks he's helping--what child when tired and hungry can think straight and "use (his) big boy words" when an adult is standing over top of them using the obey me now or you will be punished voice--that voice of degradation and impending doom that I have tried to tell T about when we were living together....that he is completely clueless as to how he sounds exactly like his own father and I know T hates that man because T always said so....

Now--the kid is currently five yo, ok? On Friday, I told T when N acts like that it usually means he's hungry here--and I asked him when the last time N had eaten was. He told me he had no idea. "Oh, I have no idea." Quote. Unquote.
The kid is FIVE. You have no clue when he last ate!?! A kid with blood sugar issues--like his sister--like his mother--like most people in my family period? like every other AUTISTIC child out there where NUTRITION is such a big deal in helping deal with the AUTISM--and this man, who enjoyed showing me his power over the small child, enjoying putting it to me that this is how you deal with this child, even as I was saying in my nice I'm a stupid dumb blonde please ignore me voice, we usually feed him and that takes care of the whiney-ness issue, has not a CLUE in his head about when the child LAST ATE.

Does anyone else wonder why I keep praying to every god out there to save my child?
Save my kid from good intentions--oh PLEASE! please please please

The man can't tell me how N hurts himself 9 times out of 10.
The man can't tell me when he last ate.
He blows me off when I bring up things like N's teeth.
He takes the kid to the emergency room--and thinks to call me when they go in--and swears he won't forget to call me when they leave--but does forget anyway.
The man who "forgot" to tell me how to order school pics of the kid for myself and my family, because he won't spring for even wallet sized pics for anyone in my family because they don't matter to him because he doesn't like them.
The man who to this day has YET to cough up a disk w the pictures he took of both kids over christmas in 2008--or even jsut email them to me a couple at a time or whatever is easier for him--despite the fact I still ask now and then -- until he gripes at me for asking....because he hates to be reminded by me of all his failures....

Can we say--nuff said?

Saturday was a decent day actually. N was having a rough day--but he's had rough weekends the past couple weeks. Boy ate fine. Boy played fine. Boy had an issue or two, but after we fed him, issues disappeared. I mean that--we fed the boy and his mood did a 180--every freaking time. I am not making this up for the ex's benefit. The boy needs to be fed regularly and more than just three meals a day.
Saturday night. R went home. N asked for a bath as soon as R was out the door. Which is unusual. Usually he plays in the bath water from his sister, who leaves the water in the tub when she's done w her bath for just this reason. Or he gets a bath when I put him in. He rarely asks for a bath himself. Which means--warning flag number one cropped up. So, I run the tub. The tub is full, I turn off the water. Boy gets out. Not all together un-N-like. He does that at times. But he doesn't just lay in the water, or recline in this case, and do nothing, as he did then, warning flag number 2. Usually he plays or messes w stuff or talks to himself. Sometimes he sings, which is cute.
I wrap the boy up in his towel. He crawls into bed. He goes to sleep. Almost immediately. It wasn't that late. I was not entirely unsurprised by how quickly the boy crashed. He'd had a rough time before he got to us, and then we took him out and took him shopping and everything else during the day on Saturday. Not too long after that, as I was busy checking email, the boy sat up and started coughing. Mommy instinct clicked instantly. I grabbed the boy and ran for the bathroom. Where he spent a good ten minutes heaving and puking his guts up.

I clean him up. Wrap him in a fresh towel (just in case). Take him back to bed and tuck him in. He spent the entire night barfing--every hour or so. Not much came out. Mommy instinct is a great thing. I woke up every single time just before he'd barf so I could have the rag and the garbage can ready for him. Last time he threw up was 6a. He slept in til about 9, 930a.

I watch him. I get no information--or at the very best an infinitesimal scant bit of information about the boy or what is going on in his life or world or anything related to anything--I hear alot more about movies and comic books than my kid--from a man who barely speaks to me, except in fits and starts. After watching and talking to N these past few weeks, after watching T and his behaviour (and he is a bully --he stood directly over Nik, looming over him, leaning down and over him--like Snoopy doing his vulture routine, with that harsh demanding unsatisfiable voice of his that is just his dad incarnate)--add into it what I am sure based on things N has said is "big boy school' or going to school like a big boy or something to that effect--N is under way too much stress--add into his lack of sleep (7a to 10/1030p daily according to what T gripes at me to stick to all the time)--his lack of a regular feeding time full of solid food that sticks to him for longer than 15 minutes (yeah-all my nutritional studies and research into grains and Waldorf schools and cooking and everything else are completely without merit--except here where they obviously work --when I can get everyone to eat what I make :-) grr)--all it boils down to is the boy is stressed the heck out and I seem to be the only one who says a thing--but of course T cannot hear my voice when I speak because I am not in agreement w him at all--so he automatically and immediately tunes me out and poo-poos everything and anything I say.

Now--the man said he would agree to putting N in Waldorf school (which would so do wonders for that stress in N--before he becomes as neurotic as T and his family--according to the things T has told me and by T's own admissions--not my own personal opinion or anything-I swear)--I am almost a that point where I can afford to put E and N both in Waldorf schools. So T--watch out--I will fight for this--and you did say if I paid for it it would happen.
Of course, knowing how cheap and lazy the man is, that also means I will be driving and picking up and fetching and carrying--but to get my kid healthy and keep my kid safe--it is worth it.

Ha!

Thank you for listening to my tirade there.

Which leads me to my other bit here--because I so did not intend to get all off-track about T-or N.

I do find it funny, despite the Pavlov dog response to R's presence from N (can we go to dairy queen playground now? the second R walks through the front door), how very attached to R both kids are. It's easier to see in E, especially since R is the one man in her life who has never let her down. But N has been asking for R lately, asking about R. I also think it's kinda telling that N waits til T leaves to ask anything about R. R and T do not like each other, not that T didn't bring that down upon his own head by acting like a child--and T won't forgive R for calling him on his childish behavior. N actually likes R alot more than I've told R too. N can talk and he does talk and he does ask alot of questions. And they are not all related to dairy queen, mcdonalds, shopping or playgrounds when it comes to R.
R has been spending more time here lately, more time on the weekends. The dynamics between everyone is beginning to change now, in what I hope and what I think is a good way. We are taking very deliberate turns towards actually being a family--which I worry about from a variety of angles, no matter what R says. I worry about R taking that role, how he feels about it, especially given N as he is, and the fact that T will be there for awhile, until N is older. And w E probably more needy than I am when it comes to needing a male role model and father figure in her life. I often wish T would not have turned on her the way he did--even before MD. The way he turns on her now. I watch him try to make a play towards including her, trying to talk to her, and she isn't responding much anymore, mostly because she is far more secure w R these days. I think it's pretty sad for both E and T, some days. But T made his choice, whether he cares to admit it or not. And he refuses to see it from any other viewpoint but his own--so there is no changing him or working WITH him. You work around him and in spite of him, but not with him. That's the way he makes it. That's why he and I could never get along. As soon as I tried to be me again after I had N and T couldn't squash me -- I became obsolete and a burden.

This week R got a job offer. Not the best job offer. But a decent job offer. A job he can feel decent about taking while he is still looking for that other job we know is out there. And we all know how to find something, right? As in, I lost my cd, however do I find it, after tearing my entire flat to bits and found nothing? You buy a new one. Don't even have to unwrap the thing either. Voila--old cd pops up out of nowhere. The same thing is going to happen here. He'll take this job, be there maybe a month or so, and boom, that other job he's waiting for will show up and he'll take it--unless his current so so salary, no vacation, sucky benefits done through a temp agency as a contract steps in and says no way are we losing you-not only will we match that, we'll top it--and either way--the man wins. Period.

This also means that no matter how I feel about driving--which means I am going to have to hit the homeopathic remedies for vertigo and other issues-- I am going to have to buy a little car.
Give me something old, made out of real steel. I don't care how many doors it has, so long as it is an automatic. I can learn to drive a stick--I can drive a stick--I am just not confident enough doing it to do it with my children in the car in traffic. And right now, I am not at all confident about driving into traffic at all. The past couple times we've driven across the bridge into St Louis proper, I've wanted to throw up--and I wasn't the one driving.
E and I want to continue our lunches w Kerry every couple weeks. Plus, E and I have a plan to go out and sit in a cafe or coffee shop or something a couple times a week, have a cuppa something and maybe a cookie or something for the small fry--where we can both do our work out of the house and away from things. Which reminds me--I need to order homeschool ID cards for both of us. Going out requires driving, and we wouldn't ask R to do that for us anyway--not as far as he has to drive for us.
So, there's something on our list. And yes, I am doing well enough to buy a car, a much nicer car than the one I am planning, because I don't want a new car--I want a piece of junk that has to be coaxed and talked to and babied. Not to mention, so ugly no one would ever dream of stealing it. haha But yes, I can afford a decent car. I can afford the insurance and the upkeep and the gas. I just don't want to do it because I am still too afraid of traffic and of driving all by myself, especially with my kids in the car.
Not to mention, I really enjoy the time w R, even though I hate having to shop like this and not being able to just go out. Although circumstances have switched up and we are now able to just go and hang out places. We're getting there.

Tuesday, we are taking E canoeing for the very first time. I haven't been in ages, because T hates camping and canoeing and basically from what he told me he hates to be outside in Nature--he hates to be away from a decent bed and he hates to be away from his friends, the tv and the computer. So, no hope for me there. And the other T thought I was just saying I loved to camp and canoe and everything else just to please him--apparently he forgot all the stories about camping and hiking and everything else I used to do before he came into my life. So, it's been awhile.
We're going canoeing for a couple hours on Tuesday. Then we are going to visit the Meramac Caves, as E has never done anything like that either. I don't like being underground and I hate closed in spaces--R assures me Meramac is completely uhm modernized and commercialized. So no need to worry there.

The weekend after we are looking at going away for the weekend, the three of us, R, E and me. This is as close to that week in a cabin alone, w just E with me, as I can get. If it helps, thank goodness. If not, I don't know what I'll do. Except buy a car and drive my darned self.
At least R has reached that point where we can start doing these things together. If I can start getting out and getting away from, ya know--humans and civilization--on a decently regular basis--I might be happier. I will be happier. And more productive. And less likely to lose it when the kid pops up acting like she's 45 instead of 8......

R asked me something the other day. He mentioned something. I don't think he has caught on yet to the fact that he has the unique ability to make one comment, whether seriously or in jest, and my brain catapults off with it into a billion places. He has always had this capacity. I was just alot better about venting the myriad mazes of my mind elsewhere before we were dating.
Something about us not wanting to be here in this house this winter.
What exactly does that mean?
What does it mean when he says I am no longer happy w this house?
I am not happy w the GUESTS in my house--although the electronic thingys do seem to be helping alot in that department. I am also not thrilled w the fact the guy hasn't done the repairs I asked him to do (not R, well, not my R--the other R, the maintenance guy) --as my front window is still busted (it's double paned glass--bird hit the outside one night and broke the outer pane on one front window)--and roofing paper still hangs off the one side of the car port.....but we won't get into any of that...won't talk about the moles who have come back w a vengeance recently...or the fact that it dawned on me recently why things don't really grow all that well around here....
When I moved into this house, I was not expecting to stay in this house for very long. That's not a real leap for me. That's not a big deal for me. At my current rate, and planning for general increases in business as they do keep coming, I will be able to pay someone to pack up the house and move us, without much of an issue.
When the time comes.
But, I don't want to move right now. In fact, I am getting a bit stubborn about it. I am not moving from one freaking suburb to another, so I can go from being surrounded by one group of people to being surrounded by another group of people. Not even for the man I love. I also have no desire to move from IL to MO and have to jump through those homeschool hoops there--because the second I step into MO, T will be all over me. Because I do not live the way he thinks proper--he would see me completely destroyed and E completely destroyed, just because we are not like him. Just because we do things our own way--and we are pretty successful at it too. Especially when he's doing the same thing he's always been doing since I met him--and he has no plans to go anywhere else.

And this segue sucks, but still, thinking about that made me look at Ken, yes, the dog, and think, boy, her butt is growing back in real well these days...I can't justify shaving her for the winter. The only reason I did it this summer was because of the mud and the burs....she'll be looking way too border collie here in a few weeks...and the shedding will not stop...but that's ok too.
Yep--her butt is as big a nuisance as the ex--pretty much a match there...really...

I've had a good week-end. I got alot done. I got a great deal of baking done, which makes me feel better. Found out I need to buy deep cookie sheet style pans like my mother has--so I can make pizza where the crust is not so tremendously thick. Thick is good--but not that thick. :-) It turned out very yummy though. N rolled the dough out himself. And helped put the sauce and the cheese on. All he wanted was cheese, no pepperoni or anything. He ate up his huge piece and quite a bit of mine that I didn't finish. I miss my mother's cooking. But the pizza is a close one there.

I cleaned out alot of stuff. R fixed the one dresser for me, so my living room is in one piece again, Even though the red rug is now in the storage room, until I feel like getting something to really deep clean it, front and back. The living room actually looks bigger, even w the two chairs in there, without the red rug.

R also put together the elliptical cross trainer bicycle for us. The instructions made the job look WAY harder than it was. It's pretty cool. It also proves I am far more out of shape than I thought I was. But this is going to be a big help towards getting me back to where I want to be. And it is quiet, so I can ride it while on a call--if my phone will pick up in the den--sometimes it breaks up there--I may have to get another receiver--I have to look into that....

The den is clean. The kitchen, well, there are dishes, but the table is mostly clear...which I need to be able to mold doll faces...which is coming up here. Probably after we get back from Tuesday.

My dreams are sticking with me in the mornings again. I have more than Esmeree calling to be made permanent on my thigh. I will get a certain name tattooed on me before I get her done though--or maybe at the same time....despite protests from the man so named.
The name is R's name--and I have a strange sort of vindication there--the ex hub wanted his full name tattooed along my thigh--he actually wanted a statement--now he wanted this--while he was still planning w D to move D up from AR to live w him, while he and I were still married--and I refused the tattoo out of hand...this time I am getting a man's name tattooed at the top of my bikini line, whether the man likes it or not (which considering my wrist, ya have to wonder why his first name in a place no one but he will ever see makes ya kinda wonder....)--well, R is a much better man than T...and then again, it would be the third tattoo I got for R, which would create a tripod effect--and that is the most stable and balanced of mechanisms, which is why they use it for camera stands...but now I am starting to get too tired and loopy, so I'll stop there...
There are dolls beginning to speak. NaNoWriMo is coming and apparently my new lead character is coming to me, with whispers and suggestions and full-blown demands. And per the rules of NaNoWriMo, I can't do anything more than take notes.
The journey into Lemuria is coming along, no matter how slowly. There is more than K working there. I have alot to catch up w. Right now I have one story I really want to type up and post to the Hestia blog.....plus, I got in two books this past week, each with nice chapters dedicated to Hestia in them. Plus, with everything else I have going on, incorporating--or in my case more fully incorporating Hestia into our world is actually the path I have become far more willing to take of late.....
My artwork is slowly returning and revolving around my hand. I drew a small piece tonight that actually had to do with Hestia--it needs colour work before i will show it to anyone....but it's getting there.
I am about to take a plunge and make a pledge --rededicate myself-- to the 100 things in 100 days challenge. Only this time I was leaning more towards mandalas. Let me get some other things in line. I still am not comfortable right now drawing...I know it's me and I know where it comes from...I just have to pick up some of my art books again and re-orient myself....

and I think I have killed enough time now that I can toss the clean laundry into a pile to await folding tomorrow morning...and I can curl up for a few minutes w a good this book for writer's book and fall into a sound peaceful sleep...knowing my world is good and all things are perfectly as they should be.....

So -- until well, tomorrow probably...sleep well... peace....

What The Dog Does

this is what Kendall does to tennis balls...

The Best Dog Toy In The World

A big twisted ball of rope toy--she tore into it and started shredding it into strings--it's a wonderful thing--for the dog.
:-)

And yes, we did it--we shaved the rest the dog's butt so her body would match her butt--at least as far as she would let me.

Ken thinks it's pretty neat actually, because now when I run my hand over her back she can actually feel it. I had to tone down the pressure I use to pet her now because it's too much for her without all the fur.

The Girls

The Dog Helping Me Work

She is so loyal and faithful and steady...and un-moving....

Even More Trouble ....

Sister and brown dog-in the boy's pillow pit...OH NO!

Trouble In the Pillow Pit

N would be furious if he knew....

Girls

E and Ken camped out while N slept on the other side--of the room--completely. :-)

Ken's Day Of Beauty

My daughter did it-- the dog ending up chewing a few of the clips to pieces before E got a clue. :-)

The Kendall Dog Again

Sometimes she is just too cute to pass up--the sappy thing.

The Girls

Is This My Week Yet?

Where to begin--where to begin--can we start with today because I am so lost anyway?

My 'official' word count this morning as 350, roughly. Not my goal. Not even close.
I've been having a day.

Oh, let's see--what did my laziness lead me to do today?

I ordered a knitted doll, for whom I technically actually OWN the pattern.
This is my doll. Obviously. She has my name, right? :-)
The pattern is from 'Knitted Icons' by Carol Meldrum. A book I "had" to have--but never actually did anything else with other than flip through, mark a few projects, put on a shelf, and ignore.
Which is why I decided NOT to buy anymore knitting books--before I went on the infant knitting book spree earlier this year.

I have been working on my drawing skills. So far, I have two completed exercises. See, here would be a good time for me to have already fixed the scanner/pc interaction problem-but other than grouse about needing to fix it-I have done not a darned thing. I am planning to start the third exercise before retiring for the night, but it is already after 11p and I don't really want to be up much longer myself.
Funny thing about these exercises is that they are not just explorations of the five elements of shape, but also experiments in the use of colour--at least that's what I turned them into. :-) That would have been perfect for creative every day's theme for April: colour.

This month it's Nature. I have plans. :-)

I pulled out 8 tins, mostly altoid. I have primered the ones in need of primer, since I found 2 I'd painted but done nothing else with.
I am having some real issues dealing with the surrender box/god box/whatever box theme I have been running into all over the place.
I decided to do something about that.
I am creating my own series of "boxes".
I shall reveal them as I go along.
Right now--I am leaving them to dry overnight.
I did get to use my dremel for the very first time ever since I bought it and I am hugely proud of myself.

My copy of 'The 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women' by Gail McKeekin came in today. So, I am going to have to pull something together so that I can work my way through it.

I also ordered 'Make Change With Your Muse!' with Marney from Artella.
I have wanted to do something like this for awhile now. It really doesn't have much to do with increasing my finances--although that's a bonus. Working with the'Muses', well, now, that is a different story. Plus, I figured if I totally hate it and it does nothing for me I only wasted less than $25. So that is far worth the cost regardless.

Yesterday I tormented the heck out of bf for no real good reason. Made him drive over here to watch E pitch a fit-and me pitch one in retaliation-poor guy watches that ALOT lately. Ahh, almost 8 yo's. Pre-puberty SUCKS. If I were not her mother, I would have turned on my heel last night and left her standing there in the middle of the store pouting because I refused to buy her a toy--especially since her room is still a condemned zone.

I did manage to pick up a plethora of sharpies, which pleases me to no end--especially after tonight when I went looking for my ice pick and my awl (still MIA, both)--and found a stash of sharpies--both black and coloured, ultra fine and fine. That just so sucks, you have no idea.

I did buy a 3 pack of 9x12 canvas, just so I have something to play with for a bit. As if I am ready for that! I am NOT. But I am so willing to work my way up to that. I would prefer to have it on hand now rather than go nuts wanting to have it when I am ready and not have it.

Yesterday was a good day. I figured wordpress and uploading pictures.
I wrote officially 4368 words.
I cut the long shaggy border collie ruff off of my dog's butt and I gave her a bath--and she looks like a regular dog now. We have less issue with the gumballs sticking to her fur (the ones from the tree outside)--even though I did not trim her tail at all. I was afraid if I started to trim her tail--she wouldn't have one when I was done. It seems to be all fur!
I did borrow the shaving kit from bf so I could do a better job on Ken. Although Ken hates anything that makes noise like that. She nearly bit me when I took after her tush with the scissors--not that I blame her--but not that I let her get away with that either. She's bossy enough without giving her any leeway.

I was reading this post and remembered I REALLY need to read my copy of 'The Highly Sensitive Person' by Elaine N Aron--which I had to take a few seconds to find real quick so I will remember.
When I bought this book, I was hoping it would help E and me find a better more stable in between ground-because we are both highly sensitive. N is too. But my dear N is just different. He has other stuff going on on top of this. Call it whatever you want to.
So, that book is on my list as well. And in the correct octo bag to make my progression that much easier to boot.

Yes, I have octopus bags. Yes, they have stuff in them.
One is a knitting project--bf's sweater in the making. Ds's yarn for his sweater-well, it's in a plastic bag in the knitting basket--which is held in check by the door of my computer armoire, lest it spill its contents all over the place. Which is tends to do anyway.
One bag has my sumi-e books in it. One has my Monart books and supplies in it.
One has my to be read books in it, the ones from my list from this past Wednesday. Speaking of which, I finished 'The Watchmen" and had the opportunity to return it to its owner today. And he and I even had a very nice chat, like real people. Some days he can be surprising-and polite as well.
Drives me nuts with the way he looks at everything as if he is trying to memorize every detail, but hey. I pity the poor fool who tries to work anything based on the seen in this house. :-)

There was no word count Wednesday. I did that by choice. Bf came over. We got to have lunch with Kerry, which for me is ALWAYS a treat.
I got to spend time w bf afterwards, which is the even bigger treat.
I even got to bake all by myself early in the morning--made coffee cake--which everyone enjoyed--and which did not survive a full 48 hours either.

Tuesday I officially wrote 2447 words.
I made my bed. Some days this is a big deal. Except in this instance, I hadn't made my bed since E wet the bed on Sunday morning--well, it was Saturday night and the bed stripping happened that Sunday.
I finally took my lawn mower out of the house. It is in the car port. My grass is way too high and I have no plans to even attempt to cut it--until the rain ceases long enough to let the grass dry. Then I will cut the lawn. No matter what the ex says.
I am slightly bothered by the fact the grass is nearly taller than my climbing rose bushes.
The lawn bothers me. But I won't go out when the grass is wet. And I won't go out when it's cold. And I could really really care less.

My iris are up. :-) All three of the rue survived and are doing well (the ones dad got me). One of the lilac bushes seems to have bitten the dust (the one dad got, which is of a different variety than what we got). I have hope it may survive yet, but--we'll see. Otherwise, with all this rain, everything else is doing really well. The tiger lilies are booming. (not blooming, booming). No sign of the glads at all. No sign of the yucca either--but then again I really don't know what I am supposed to be looking for there. My white sage has burst into seedlings. One of the sacred basils has begun to sprout. I still need to plant my garden variety basil--and mints--and rosemary. Not to mention, the upside-down tomato garden is still sitting there, unused.
I am this close to weeding the front flower bed, the one with the hedge roses. Only because the dandelions are rampant. We'll have to see.

Monday I officially wrote 1129 words.

My Yoga practise has been off all week--but it is my week to take off from Yoga. I have continued to stretch, but not much more than that. I was hoping maybe tonight I could sneak an hour in after evicting E from the living room--but I forgot to take N into consideration--so there is always --some time. E cannot listen about the stuff in the den. No toys in the den unless you are in there playing with them. When you leave, the toys leave. Nope. She leaves them 'for (her) brother' to play with--and he is not interested in the toys. He likes the rug toy-free too because he plays on the rug. When no one is looking, HE does Yoga. Because he watches and helps me. When I walk in the room he quits though. :-) I watch him when he doesn't know I am there though. It's hard to 'hide' from N--he gets things really quickly.

I have no word count on Sunday either. It was a rough day. Although I enjoyed making cupcakes w the kids. I loved watching N take every single remaining cupcake to take back to dad's w him when it was time for him to go. :-) He was just so determined to have every single one.

I did knit something this week--even though i still have no clue what to do with it. I like the colours and the texture. I could turn it into a wooby--but it would be a small wooby.

I also decided this week, in the midst of my Guides setting me up with the Muse series and the Donkey series (which I am apparently taking a small break from today), that I am pulling my red folder and re-working the essays I have in there and re-working the patterns--or at least typing them up--before test knitting them.
I have a couple faroese-esque shawls in there that I want to knit up just for me. Much less for posterity.

I keep having such strange dreams lately. I can almost catch them before they run away. They are not bad or scary. A little unnerving at times. But the remnants I can catch are pretty decent. Even inspiring.

Number nineteen is almost entirely healed, except for one small spot. And that spot itches like you would not believe. Nothing I do or put on it or wash off of it takes the itching away. What worries me is that the colour will be off--although once it is done healing I doubt it. BUT if the colour is off that means I have to go have it re-touched--which means I will probably go through this same thing again all over with it, since it is that one spot.

Oh-I did agree to knit and/or crochet an octopus for the bf to wear-under his kilt or otherwise--since i have the pattern for the octopus toy--I am planning to crochet that up to size and then not stuff it--but arrange and sew the tentacles just so in order to keep the octo up as necessary. :-)

Speaking of octos, I want this one, but cannot justify it--because the eyes are wrong. Yes, I can be a stickler for some details, indeed. Octopus eyes stay level with the horizon--it helps them orient when they turn upside down and all over the place crawling into holes and niches after prey and whatever else.

I am waiting to hear back on something about having a certain ring made for me. If it can't be done, I have plans to order something else. Rings have suddenly become very important to me these past couple weeks. Funny after the issue one ring that isn't even here caused a few weeks ago. Such things that set me off. Now that entire episode is utterly irrelevant anyway. BUT the interesting thing is the rings I wear help me focus on my writing and keep me writing more. Hey-at least it's not the same pair of socks!
So, if I cannot have this ring I want resized, I will buy a different brand all together. That depends. I may just buy the other one when i wake up in the morning anyway, simply because I can. We'll have to see how I feel in the morning.

That's all I have for the moment.

Good night.


Yes, I usually mean to write up a check-in on Sundays--but never get around to it. So I am doing it tonight, simply because I can. :-)

Little Miss Innocent

Gotta love that smile.

Mornings Here

Before the girl gets up, after the dog comes in from that first quick outside time, while i am busy working, writing, whatever--this is the sight I see--this is two days of pictures--although I could take the same picture every day:

Fresh Clean Sheets

This is the way the bed is SUPPOSED to look. Except that E won't sleep in her own bed yet--so she never makes the bed when she gets up and she's the last one out.

And, yes, the bed is not complete if the dog has not passed out cold on it.

E TooK Some Pictures

E decided we needed some pictures of me on the blog--I think it was all a ruse to be allowed to play w the camera. But here they are anyway.