Re-Earning That Procrastination Merit Badge For NaNo

Yep.  it's Tuesday.  It's windy and just a touch chilly here today, but I have all the windows open--or at least all the windows I can...it's a toss up--do I enjoy some 'fresh air' and get things moving in the house or do I endure the ravages of the ahem people in the neighborhood setting their leaves on fire (some of them set fire to leaves right up against their house--seriously--some in the road, not right in the middle of the road, but close, and sometimes, they light leaves aflame on really windy days like today and I marvel that no house has yet burnt to the ground, not that I know of anyway--it is not for lack of trying from the people around here, seriously...nope..apparently you do not need a permit to burn your leaves 'round here--when we came back from R's last night I swear the clouds of smoke from burning leaves resembled the Mist from Stephen King's famed novella ...or short story...or however you want to categorize it...I was only half-joking about being worried this house would still be standing when we got here...if the creeps behind us don't do it damage, then surely the winds would fan flames and set the roof aflame....yet...knock on wood...we all be safe....)...I decided to chance it and open the windows...until E starts to complain she's freezing to death anyway...

No.  I did not write for Nano on Satruday or Sunday or Monday.  I didn't expect to write much w N here anyway... We had SUCH a great time Sunday...we took N out to eat, to play, then to a playground--we wore that little stinker out and then dropped him off at his dad's when we were done...
Then it was just we three, R, E and me.  We went bowling.  R had a tournament he participated in to help raise money for a little girl whose father had recently died.  E and I watched--it's the first time E had ever been to a bowling alley.  The ex had taken me 2-3 times before we got married.  When I left, I had three bowling balls in my possession--all of which went to goodwill.  The man had a fit trying to find me bowling shoes after the last time he took me bowling--and once he bought them for me and everything,  he never again took me bowling ever...apparently I am not competitive enough--and/or I don't do things his way...hey--I'm the Red Queen here--The Red Bull has to stay in his own world (keep up--we went from Alice in Wonderland to the Last Unicorn  there :-) )...and I always wanted to bowl just to enjoy myself and to have fun--that was never allowed w T--you had to win...not enjoy yourself...so I guess that's why he never took me again.  E and I met some really nice people--and finally got to put some faces to the people we've been hearing so much about for months and months.

After R was done w the tournament...we stayed so E could bowl a couple games, since she was so excited.  First lesson we learned, E must bring socks w her at all times.  Her shoes would have been more comfy had she had socks.  BUT--she had a BLAST.  She is adamant we buy her her own six pound ball, right now.  I found out the same thing I found out last time I bowled--I shouldn't use my thumb because the nail gets torn from the bed every time I toss the ball using finger in the holes grip--and I really need a wrist guard if I am going to bowl, even if I do use a two handed throw--and I do use a two handed throw--and by some margin known only to God Above, I can get a strike here--whereas w T the fact I did not do it his way was a great blasphemy.  Great, I ain't.  But having fun--oh boy--yes.  E was just overjoyed by the whole process.  She's hooked--and darn near demanding we do it every week now.  Which works for me.  It's the every day thing I keep eyeballing her about.  She would gladly go every single day.

R is kinda happy.  Other than shooting chickens--or maybe it's turkeys, he found something I will play w on the wii--I am not a game person.  I can go on and on about my dislike of things like that...but if wii bowling will help me figure out the best way to throw a bowling ball...I am willing to try.

I know.  I am kind of a pain.  I don't play games, like on facebook, because I don't see the purpose to it.  I will spend hours roaming through news articles online--but playing a 'video'  game makes no sense to me.  I would rather knit.  Or read.  Or both at this point.  Other than board games, all I play is solitaire...and my computer ate my solitaire game and I haven't cared enough to go find another one...hey...the computer did decide to give me back my calculator function for some reason...maybe solitaire will return at some point as well...ya never know...

So, I started this post for the Next Chapter chapter from last week..Play....

Snarf...I am still 'playing' w that chapter as well...but how 'bout I share a couple playful moments?

R and I taking N and E to the dreaded McDonald's (McRib sandwiches are back for a while ... not that I eat them, but that's why we went...) and we have to go to McDonald's w a play ground--or else we get into big trouble with two very small obstinate grumper children.  :-)

Now, the playground.  I hate enclosed spaces.  I didn't play on those things when I was a kid.  It took me a LONG time to stop hyperventilating once the kids started to play on these things as they got old enough to do so.  N has my reticence about enclosed spaces, but he will go where his sister will go, if we give him enough time to work up to it.   R and the kids did get me up into that thing, and N pretty much refused to let me out once I was there--the one we went to had a great window bubble against the outside window so we could look outside and watch the trees and traffic and whatever...N liked that...it was 'the spot'  ...
Now--we were the only ones there that evening...imagine all four of us up inside that darn thing, all together...it was hysterical and fun...and I even went down the slide twice...not an easy thing for me...although the second time R went in head first after I started down and I pretty much dragged him all the way down...lol

Play.  Some days I forget...my idea of playing is spending hours working on a prototype design for some shawl/scarf thing I saw while trolling etsy and thought I could do myself...getting almost to the end of the first ball of yarn ...and deciding I like it better a different way and frogging the whole thing back to square one....
I do that a lot.

Play.  Chasing the dog all over the house and tossing her the ball to see 1 if she can catch it and/or 2 if she'll go get it and bring it back....

Play.  Singing in the shower and making shapes w my hair when shampooing--like horns and such, like I used to do to the kids when they were smaller...and sometimes still do if E lets me help wash her hair...or when we color E's hair...

Play.  Does sitting on the floor staring at the fish and talking to them count as play?

Play.  Does mud count in the clay realm?  Clay.  I do w it what I do with yarn.  I play and play and play--then wad it up and stick it back in the container, having nothing to show for the time spent...

Play.  Avoiding my work...and reading about dowsers and other very interesting and well-written things....

Play.  Wrestling w R.  It's fun.  I don't win...I get in good shots...but I don't win.  He usually doesn't win either.  It's usually a draw.  But the whole thing is fun.  It's even more fun when the kids get involved too...although then we are all getting bruises because the kids hit way harder than they think they do....

Play...this one is all me....I distrust a great many things about technology...it's the conspiracy theorist in me...I downloaded all the album cover art I could find for my itunes account last night--and hooked it into my ipod...hey--it's a big deal for me.  :-)  Especially some of the strange stuff I listen to....
So, I uploaded some new stuff.  E loves Lady Gaga--the long blonde wig is what E really adores, so I had to get Gaga for her.  Although E likes the music too.  And then spent the evening after putting the kids to bed dancing around my kitchen and living room...and loving every second of it...if the kids weren't in bed, I'd have been singing out loud--until someone told me to be quiet...because I can belt things out too (E is really bad about belting things out in her pseudo-opera voice :-) ) ... usually I sing along under my breath...ipod or not....

Hehehe...I bought some holiday gifts already...and I decided to buy myself some new music as well..not alot...but a little.  I had to get Lady Gaga for E--so I figured I deserved something for myself...E and I had spent a couple hours browsing online the other day, watching different music videos...I am developing a weird thing for Britney's music...the whole I know I'm screwed up, take me as I am anyway and screw you thing...I get that--and I like that...
Scary as it is...

Britney antecedent--
the x always used to tell me how nuts I was/am--he claimed --well--a lot of things....most of which I said about him as well--so I guess that makes us even--
in a conversation w him, I once said something about not being as bad as things w Britney, somehow compared myself w/to Britney (during her divorce/custody battle/break down) --and the man actually came back, fiercely, and told me I shouldn't compare myself to Britney--as I wasn't all that bad...
some days that still shocks me--that a man who spent so much time building me up as this absolutely insane moron would tell me not to compare myself to someone who seemed to be acting completely insane...
somewhere in there that man does have a strange and decent streak...it's just too much effort to fight to find it...and it's better off simply catches glimpses of it here and there and not fighting for anything else while going along my merry way...

Anyway...
I got to play this weekend.  I got to go down a regular slide (wearing boots no less as I had not expected to go to the rocket park playground) and I got to swing--where I learned that I have a long long long way to go to recover from the accident last year in ways that have nothing at all to do w driving or being on the road at all...

We watched 'Race To Witch Mountain' (with The Rock) last night.  As a movie, it's pretty good.  As part of the whole 'Witch Mountain' thing from the 70s, 'Escape to Witch Mountain' and 'Return from Witch Mountain'....no--it doesn't really have anything to do with anything else....but then again...I don't ever remember seeing 'Return From Witch Mountain' as a kid ... and I fail to see the whole point of the movie as a sequel ...fail to see what the second movie had to do with the first, except that it used the same two kids...so, in that vein, 'Race' is as integral as 'Return'....as in, Witch Mountain is the only real constant, other than the kids being from another world and having 'powers'....

I liked this session, this piece...it's not a sequel or a prequel...just another sort of floating along in the same vein....
Of course, it has The Rock in it, so I was on board regardless.
I like the premise of the movie.  I can see a lot of things that the conspiracy theorist in me like to keep an eye on, saying ayuh, as if....
but overall, pretty cool....

I do like the way Harlan (I think that's his name)  got involved and 'helped'....and how the 'geek' sci fi community reacted, came together, reached out....
says the woman who owns 'Communion', who has listened to way to many things, dealt w way too many things...who keeps her mouth shut about a grand number of things...and still cannot read 'Communion', who hasn't been able to read anything by Whitley Streiber except 'The Last Vampire' since Whitley's abductions...and who will continue to not say why...for a long long time.

But it does make a very interesting story...you must admit...

And with that, I am going to go doodle for a bit before hunkering down and picking up where I left off for my nano writing....

Last count as of Saturday: 30277 words--and I am fighting the whole let's write by hand mode at the moment--simply because I can't stuff it into the word counter at the end of a session and say see what I did!
I'm such a procrastinating pain in the a*se, I have been looking at voice recognition/transcription programs!

And now--I am OFF....
w my cajun music in the background, French lyrics dripping all over like the heat of the swamp in mid-summer--gotta love it...

Joy Diet Catalog

My Catalogue of Sensory Delights

I love the taste of:

1. chocolate and white wine on my tongue
2. fresh baked bread and melted butter
3. French vanilla ice cream
4. peaches
5. cherries

I love the sight of:

1. flowers in bloom
2. my children laughing and playing together
3. my children laughing and playing w R
4. R
5. animals running for the sheer joy of it...wolves...horses...those are what came to mind immediately...

I love the feel of:

1. clean sheets on a freshly made bed as I crawl in to go to sleep
2. woven textures beneath my fingertips
3. dirt in my hands as I cultivate ...whatever
4. the skin of my children's cheeks pressed close to mine
5. R's hands on me, in whatever way he comes for me

I love the smell of:

1. honey suckle blooming
2. bread baking
3. vanilla and lavender mixed
4. logs toasting in the fireplace
5. my bedroom when I first walk into it (lots of incense)

I love the sound of:

1. water cascading over rocks
2. wind blowing through tree branches and leaves
3. horses hooves beating out a rhythm as they run and play
4. violins
5. the silence within the silence

Join us for other treats and delights at The Next Chapter....

Did You Think I Forgot The Week Of Treats?

Kinda funny that this week was the week wherein Halloween fell, huh?

I am still behind in my reading...that pink elephant...she was a major distraction...however...the pink elephant has decided to go home for awhile.  She packed up her stuff and flew away home.  Oh yes.  In the original folk tales, elephants could fly.  Isn't that an amazing thought?

Treats.

Treats is sort of difficult and sort of  simple for me.  When I have to think about 'treats', I balk.  I've done so much for "me" lately--the new jeans...the new killer shoes...blah blah blah....but those aren't the treats I want or need...
Sure, where the clothes are concerned I am replacing outdated, worn out, unnecessary things...but that's not really a treat.  Fine.  Five inch stilettos are a REAL TREAT for me...wearing them is an even bigger treat...the look on R's face when I pull off some spectacular outfit in those heels is absolutely priceless...so, yeah, treat.

But on a daily basis?  Three treats a day?  When I stopped over-thinking things, I discovered what I already should have known.  I have these things built in to my life already.

What's a treat?
Talking that first call in the morning, hanging up, rolling back over into my nice warm bed and going back to sleep for an hour or so.

What's a treat?
Boiling the water and making that first little pot of tea in my ugly old orange tea pot.  I bought this lovely big white tea pot from Ikea and it's too big to use without a cozy right now.  And I have too many other things on my knitterly plate to knit a cozy for it...so I am sticking with my little orange pot...
The cups I choose to use when I drink my hot tea, that's a treat.  My 'let go let god' cup that I got as a tip for good work doing Reiki sessions at a retreat eons ago.  A hand-made cup I found for a quarter at a thrift store...my little owl cups that R's x and I both got at a different thrift store, also a quarter each (we divided a set between us because we both liked them)...my Archer cup (another thrift store find)...my 'grace' cup (thrift store, you bet), my square black cups with the crackled turquoise blue ombre insides (target these--on clearance)....

What's a treat?
Stopping for no real reason and inhaling and exhaling, deeply and purposefully, while stretching head to toe, arms overhead into head to knee pose and out again...

What's a treat?
Painting my finger nails and my toe nails.

What's a treat?
The ultra-moisturizing shampoo and conditioner I splurged on for my uber-dry and fuzzy curly 'fro...

What's a treat?
Watching the dog roll all over the bed and bark at herself and then going over to rub her goofy butt until her tongue lolls out and she is doing nothing but grinning.

What's a treat?
Reading a story to E, who is normally a spell-bound audience when I do so.
In fact, I love having deep talks with her lately.  She is just full of interesting stuff.  With the elephant situation, she and I ended up discussing pregnancy the other day.  She didn't ask about the things I thought she would: would R and I be getting married, would we be moving in together, would we still be getting that 70s house (ok, so that's the house's nickname at the moment) ...no, ever Miss Practical, E asked me about being pregnant, how it feels, where it hurts and when and how bad, if I'd be in the hospital with her when she gives birth when she gets pregnant when she is older (much older), the difference in my experiences between hospital birth and home birth (I will never go to a hospital again unless forced for the health of the child) and how she has to make that choice herself when she's older...

What's a treat?
Picking on the bird--trust me--it's funny.
Picking on the girl ranks right up there too--especially if she's in a good mood and picks back.

What's a treat?
The sound of my children giggling and laughing...no matter what the cause.
That truly honestly is the very best candy for me.  Nothing else tops that.

What's a treat?
Ok...picking on R ranks up there too--and he always picks back.
But there is nothing better than looking into his eyes and seeing what is reflected in there, the depth of his love for me...swirling between the sea of blue and that gold ring of his...

What's a treat?
Flowers in bloom.  Or in my case right now, my four leaf clover still growing like madness since I moved it back into the house.

What's a treat?
A very long, very hot, very soapy (scented soap bought special for me that no one else can use :-) mostly because she can't reach it :-) ) shower, when everyone else is in bed, no one interrupting, no one noticing and no one opening and closing the door to let all the hot steamy air out so that it seems as if I wander through a clear white languid fog...where both brain and body unwind...

What's a treat?
Burning incense on my personal altar...the smell of that incense infusing the entire house....

What's a treat?
There are so many more left unnamed here....

Every day, my days are full of treats, small, large, meaningless to anyone but me.  But they are there and I love every minute of them...

See what treats others have given themselves here...

The Week of Risk--Late But here

Again, I can use all sorts of excuses for not reading the chapter til late in the week, but as all things seem to do with me, the lack of reading did not stop me from implementing things I had no clue I was implementing.




Risk. Do one frightening thing a day.



Like force things to where the pink elephant had to be discussed with R. Despite my complete wanting to do anything but that.



I hate when he is right about things; if I had continued to try to keep it from him, it would have eaten me alive. The talk we had was always … exactly what I/we needed…and made me look at a few things…but until I can either saddle up the pink elephant or send it out to other pastures…there’s not a lot I can change at the moment.



Like drag my loving son out to the fun farm for the day (Eckerts, to pick pumpkins, etc), with R and E. If ever you want to know if your man is ready for the entire fatherhood relationship angle of your relationship, my beautiful boy, with his cheeky little self, and his propensity to pitch fits and to run willy nilly all over the place…well…this sort of thing will definitely do it...I will not say it was the most perfect day…but it sure could have gone A LOT worse than it did. R held up a lot better than I would have…and N is my kid. For some reason, I have a much bigger patience streak with N than with E. I always have. N is special. No doubt about it. You can say ‘autistic’ all you want. It’s something else. And he has always been this way. As I told R in the beginning w N, I am far more protective and more prone to interfering in order to protect N more than I am with E. I also give in to N way too much—as in the boy is heading over 65 pounds and I still give in and carry the little monster…and the only way to cure that…is to carry through with my threat of when I get pregnant there will be no more carrying N…that’s why I stopped carrying E, because we had baby N…although it was more because E has these long giraffe legs (like her mama) and we would get tangled while walking and it wasn’t safe to carry both—but ya can’t really tell a toddler that and get away with it. So, yes, I blamed it on her brother....



I also learned this weekend that at eight years old—pre-pre-puberty SUCKS! As if I didn’t know, but it seemed a lot more obvious this weekend, after taking N back to his dad’s. It’s getting to the point where I have to bribe N to get in the car to take him back to his dad’s. There are minimal issues once we are at his dad’s, but getting to that point…sheesh…talk about risk…I nearly had to climb into the McDonald’s playground thingy to drag the boy down and out of one on Sunday—I am claustrophobic and I have never liked those things…

A 150 pound six feet tall amazon like me does not need to be billowing around through plastic tubing to catch a small ornery cuss like N.



Talk about risk? We looked at houses yesterday. We found two we liked, one is a maybe, one we are definitely making an offer on. I was sick to my stomach for roughly half an hour after we got back. If that last house we saw had not been in such terrible shape, it might have been worse. That house—it had SO MUCH potential, but it should really be torn down to the foundations and rebuilt…it’s such a shame….I won’t even go into it.



But, we did find a house. We are putting a bid in on it. I heartily thank the Mother who showed up to make sure I knew this was the house. You want weird? It’s me—you have to expect it from this point. The numerology was right on the money on the house number—although R is still baffled at my methodology. Three fours in the house number….444…the number of the angels (according to Doreen Virtue, and I concur) …although the house number is NOT 444—444 is derived from said numbers, only one of which is a four….I don’t want to give out the house number…sorry…there were three rose bushes planted in the backyard, right off the patio. It has all the things from the first house we moved into when we moved to the St Louis area in 1999 that I liked (and there wasn’t much about that house that was really cool either) – namely the eat-in kitchen and the walk-out patio…except that this yard is very big and nicely flat, with established trees (so Ken can still chase her darned squirrels—and in this town, rabbits are rampant…so the dog will be happy) In one of the bedrooms was a three foot (maybe two and a half foot) statue of the Virgin Mary –and yes, that means A LOT to me—plus, all sorts of other religious icons in that room, scattered about as if someone had taken them down and jsut pretty much chucked them into that room until it was time to pack them up and move them along. In another bedroom, there was original from the 70s Raggedy Anne and Andy wallpaper—and yes, that means something to me too. In the living room, the blue and silver and white wallpaper with the French design really caught my eye—if I can salvage it, it will be the only wallpaper that survives. Although E loves the wallpaper in the master bath—think 70s here, daisies, in pink, white and yellow. It’s so psychedelic. I think I might keep that paper too—but I’ll paint over it so that the pattern still shows through, just a different color…we’ll have to see on that. I am not much for ‘pink’ myself…but if we get it in a deep enough shade to where it is so much closer to red than pink, then I can manage….



And that red but not red pink was what I have been planning to paint my bedroom ever since we moved into the house across the river….



So many opportunities…



Otherwise, right now, my only real risk taking has to do with waiting until the first week of November passes to find out about an elephant.



I have a lot of plans in the pre-planning stages…and I keep picking up things here and there that add to them…we’ll see where they go.



Oh, speaking of risk…risk doesn’t have to be huge, right? R took us to this amazing restaurant last night, called Ryce. It is open seven days a week. Monday through Thursday from 11a to 9p, Friday and Saturday from 11a to 10p, and Sunday from 11a to 9p.

Oh, I cannot say enough about how very GOOD this place. The food, the service, the lay out, the atmosphere…if I were to rate it on a one to five star range, with five being the best, I would honestly have to give it no less than a seven.

The address is: 12710 Dorsett Rd, Maryland heights, MO 63043.

The phone number is 314 878 8288.

I tried all sorts of things I would never normally try. And it was all good. They had octopi three different ways—I can’t touch them. I just can’t. It is far too like cannibalism for me. I tried many things from the open kitchen, the Mongolian bbq, sushi, desserts, you name it. I don’t much care for crab rangoon, but I always try some wherever we go because N LOVES crab rangoon—this place has the hands down best crab rangoon I have ever had—this crab rangoon I would eat every single day…amazing. They even have lemon chicken on the buffet. I tried it—it was good, but too sweet for my taste. There was a fruit salad bar, a regular salad bar. So much food. we have to go several times for me to even try something off of every bar, much less a little of everything. There were also things like pizza, salmon, butter potatoes (which my dad loves)…

I ate sushi there. Well, other than the salmon on rice, the sushi wasn’t that hot. But the other foods made up for that. I am impressed by how much E ate while we were there. Talk about risk—she tried about a half dozen new things…R is rubbing off on her the right way. At least he gives us both space for our picky eater—hood—but hers is really starting to worry me. So when we can get good stuff into her, it means a lot to me.  It didn't hurt that he helped push her into eating quite a bit too.

My only issue with the whole place the tea…of all things…I found it weak…keep in mind, I’m Irish and my tea needs to be thick enough for a mouse to trot across (I cannot remember where I picked that saying up from), so as I say this tea was too weak, I am sure others will look at me as if I am mad….it was hot and it was plentiful…so that was a plus in its favor…they had a selection of hot teas to choose from…three teas, one of which was chrysanthemum tea, which as it is a flower tea I cannot drink very often nor in copious amounts…but the thought that I could order it…or that E, who absolutely loves flowery teas, could order it, made me happy.



Ok. Enough risk. I have plans laid and written out for other things. I am in incubation mode until this weekend. I’ll be clear this weekend. The final confirmation is the first week of November. Keep your fingers crossed on that.



Light a candle for us for the house. I am really looking forward to this.

This Was The Week Of ... Creativity....

Jamie Ridler leads us through The Next Chapter of The Joy Diet by Martha Beck.


Since I procrastinated all day--and I have good reason--I finally figured out where Outlook 2007 was hiding my email--which led me to play with Outlook all day--which led me to actually having all my emails sorted and filed and in their proper files--and I was AGHAST at the emails that had gotten--sorted via gmail and thereby becoming totally lost to me....  The way gmail links threads often causes me to miss emails....but I had a field day today with Outlook--which does so many more things than just email.  R has been telling me I need to set up a calendar to remember things, like certain dates...so...I did! :-)  And because I did, I stopped and read the updates on the TNC blog first rather than just writing willy-nilly and leaving it at that.


So, the first post I saw was Jamie asking about last week's desire...now, do keep in mind, in order to keep my own perspective clear here, I haven't read anything about anyone else's week yet...


I am choosing to respond to Jamie's questions first.
here's what she had to say:


""" I noticed that many of you knew your desire but didn't name it in your posts and I wondered why. Did it feel tender? Private? Scary to share? What would it be like to proclaim your desire, to say out loud, "I want...."? What's going on in there? I'd love to hear."""


I had to go back and re-read what I had written.  We had been at R's that day, preparing to load a truck and drive to WV that night.  I didn't really put much thought into anything, other than wanting to make sure that I participated in the group...
I did not name my desire...but so much of my blog has been about my desires...perhaps I was thinking that I had spent all too much time spelling out my desires this past year...if not longer...


My desires?


Right now, finding a new house.  Major number one on the agenda there.  It's not the 'house' that I am so concerned with or for.  I am more concerned with Home, finding and creating and maintaining Our Home.
Even without another house, we are in the process of doing that.  R and I  have become addicted to sleeping in one another's arms.  I have only had this experience with one other person in my life.  According to R, he's never had it.  For us, it's a blessing.  Just to be able to sleep in one another's arms.  Nothing more than that.  We fall asleep snuggling; we wake up still snuggling.  No one retreats to the other side of the bed.  No one pushes the other person away.  No one has trouble sleeping because of the other person in the bed.


Next on the list is writing that 50000 word novel, that horrid rough draft of crap, come November and NaNoWriMo.  My character is the same as she has always been, although a bit older now, since when I started she and I were both teen-agers.  I threw out all the old drafts and outlines and started a new one (outline).  She and I are ready to go.


This is only the first step.


I want to set up my own online store.  For my knitting, my dolls, my whatever I have in mind.  I want to paint more, draw more, get better, get better again....


I want to knit socks, knit dolls, knit sweaters, knit hats, knit hand warmers and wrist warmers...all objects currently requested by well-meaning family members.  Even the fuzzy willie warmers.  I'll leave the description alone...but still...amazing what you can get a man to wear under his kilt if it garners him a laugh or two...more-so if he gets compliments for it...


I am expanding my counseling business.  There are a number of directions I am touching there.  These I am not discussing until they are more fully-formed and being put into practice, especially since I may or may not do everything I am looking at incorporating at the moment.  


I bought my pressure cooker last night, so I am that much closer to canning and preserving foods that we grow ourselves.  I have the man to build the greenhouse now--it's only a matter of time.  I still have the thing I inherited (? if that is the right word?) from T's family to use while canning....some sort of strainer/presser/ squisher thingy (aren't I ever so precise at this hour?)
When I utter the words self-sufficient, it means a great deal more than just being able to take care of myself and my kids.  I want to be as off the grid as possible.  R won't let me go as far as I want, but he is the key to my balance, so I don't knock it too much.  He gives me a great deal of rein to go pretty far as it is, without hurting myself or my kids...it is a very good thing....


Now, we have pumpkins growing in the front yard, as well as watermelons, if the weather hasn't killed them off.  The pumpkins keep flowering.  No, we didn't plant them on purpose (just the pumpkins).  It's parrot food gone to seed there.  What Cricket doesn't eat, I toss out in the front yard.  I like to watch the birds.  I like to watch the neighbor's dog who likes us better chase the squirrels.  Here's my start on herbs and flowers and veg...among other things...


Here's to paying someone to do all the heavy lifting when we move...which is my other big desire.


I don't want to be famous.  I don't want to be well-known.  I don't want to be Britney...or Madonna...or anyone else at all.  I want to be me.  I want my writing and my art work and whatever else I do to be known.  But me, I would like to remain behind the scenes as much as possible.  I will not be the one out on book tours.  I will not be interviewed.  I will not pimp my ride (sorry, had to say it...) I am infamous enough in my own way as it is.  


I have other desires that have to do with my children, the ones who are here and the ones that will be coming in the future.  Sometimes I don't like to tempt fate by saying some things out loud.  
Twins.
The return of the Lost One (not what you think--has nothing to do w this year).
Another girl.


I still have designs on my animal rescue sanctuary.  With R in the picture, I have had to adjust a few views, but, oddly enough, we have found that we can do what I have always planned to do, within the same area we are currently in right now, and he will still be close to work, and live in the country, all at the same time.  I love N. County some days.  Ever since I saw N County, it has been my favorite area in St Louis.  


Do you need more?  Or is this enough?


Moving on now, to creativity.
I shall confess...since we did the trip last to WV last week-end, I didn't read the chapter til we got back...til...like...last night and this morning....and yet...even so... I still tried to keep an open mind and to allow my creativity to roll...


Reading through the chapter made me think, yet again, here she is taking me through the steps I have been taking myself through for how long now...


Despite the fact that I can be an extreme perfectionist, I gave up long ago trying to be 'perfect'.  Now, I take this weird perverse joy in screwing things up.  There is so much freedom to be had when you know you are going to screw something up no matter what you do--then you can just screw it up and be done with it--because after you do it the wrong way, the way you should have done it, the right way, or the more right way, or maybe the less wrong way, is clearer to you...it also gives me a great deal to go on to help other people when they go through things..since I know all too well the path not to take, I can give them my perspective and see if it benefits them at all...if not, my travails may at least entertain them.


I love the exercise about your enemy...this exercise is/was my entire relationship w T.  If it weren't for him, for me watching him and hating the way he did things, the way he acted, the fact that his words and actions don't match, the fact that he is one of the most non-communicative people I know even though it can be hard to get him to shut up (I have never seen another man so gossipy, like an old hen.  And not to stereotype, but still, I apologize now--but even gay men aren't this gossipy--none I have ever known--and I have always been a HUGE fag hag....)  I still watch what he does and if it bothers me I make myself do the direct opposite.  Because of him, you cannot shut me up most times--but I am really speaking when I talk.  I totally over-share now.  I don't gild the lilly.  I used to be a lot more tame, which people who have know me for years are gonna gawk at--because I have always had a mouth--but when it comes to me, to my personal life, I have not always spoken up.  Even when I shut down on R, I always come back and explain things.  It might take me a bit, but I do.  I face every fear.  I follow every word with a corresponding action.  If not for T's complete .... inanity...the facade with which he surrounds himself...I would still be stuck in some battered depressive state, a little hole in the ground, mourning the loss of an ex-husband that everyone from the get go, when we were only dating, everyone, including complete strangers, told me was far too beneath me to bother wasting my time on....that says alot, huh?  Now--hear that angle--how I was always warned against that one...and hold it up to the light of my current relationship, where everyone, including total strangers, have always thought we were a couple--even when we were both married to other people, and we make--have always made-- a darn good couple at that!  I think I am on the right track this time.  No--I am sure I am on the right track this time.  If it weren't for those tragic mistakes in the past, I would never have allowed what is going on w R to happen...not like this....I would probably have allowed my predatory nature to take over...but I wouldn't have allowed the emotional content to overwhelm us...I actually still have to be careful...because I still to this day have the tendency to bait the man, to see if he is genuine, to see if he means what he says, to see if he really is who and what he says...heck, just to see if he'll stick around when I am at my coldest and meanest.  It's not always a good thing to date your best friend, when you have all sorts of information to use against them....I have a cold streak that doesn't stop and I don't always realize how mean i am being til after I do something or say something.  This man is what he says he is and does what he says he will do.  And he is absolutely not going anywhere.  The benefit of dating your best friend is that he knows all your foibles and idiosyncrasies --an puts up with them all anyway.  


Again, I didn't have any issues in the 'my creative life' box--I had more issues with the 'my dichotomous life' box.  I have never believed I couldn't be or do more than one thing at a time, even if they were direct opposites.  I can play the male and the female role at the same time...I can play the dominant and the submissive at the same time...I can play the warrior and the slave at the same time...I can play the mother and the child at the same time...no one ever told me not to do two different things at once...no one ever told me not to.  They said things like it can't be done.  They told me I couldn't do things, because I wasn't good enough, talented enough, creative enough, blah blah blah...but never was I lead to believe that it could never be done by anyone...which to me meant it could be done and should at least be tried to see if I am one that can do it...
If I want to be a hard-core drag-queen ballerina in the middle of transgender surgeries who dances on Broadway--or Skid Row for that matter-- I darn well can and will be.  The only reason I wouldn't be is because I don't really want to be that person.  
It started all too long ago when I took a look at the Virgin/Whore complex--and decided the Whore was so much better to portray...and then I knew in order to be 'accepted' I would also have to play the Virgin....everything else falls into place after that....


I do not follow the guidelines that society places upon people.  I am that one step outside the box, looking in, pretending to walk along, but completely out of step with everyone else.  I am teaching my children that as well.  Don't think about the box; don't think think outside the box...BE outside the box, live outside the box.  Understand what goes on in the box, because this is still a society and you must be accepted on some levels in order to achieve what you want to achieve in life...but don't let that be a trap that swallows you whole.  Had it been me in the Garden, I probably would have beaten the serpent to the punch and taken the apple anyway.  I might not have shared it quite so quickly though, because if I am going to get into trouble, let it be me and no one else.  Unless they are really sure that's what they want to be doing....they make their own choice, without me pressuring them, and it's not my fault, even though I handed them the apple....


Above all else, I am really loving menu item number four.  
Talk about opening up some interesting ideas...it may not be up to me to put all of these ideas into action, but I can sure hit the man with a great many more thoughts and concerns and queries...that makes a lot of things much more fun...if nothing else.


It's good to be happy--it's good to be fun--it sure does open a lot more doors than just creativity....


and now...I shall promise to be more diligent during the coming week of 'risk'....I am looking forward to risk...I keep wanting to take a few risks these days and I need a little help convincing R that these are good risks and if we take them our success is assured....


I know it is...but I am the emotional one...and my emotion must comply with is logic...so I will find the logic necessary to break into those compartments in his brain and show him the light of a different kind of day...no matter what it takes....


Have a great night from here on out...more to come...quite soon.....

The Week Of Desire

Come join along under Jamie Ridler's guidance as we explore The Joy Diet by Martha Beck.

This is Week is the Week Of Desire.

I am at my boyfriend's today, so I will be a bit more brief than normal. 

This book is terrific.  It seems to keep showing me that I am traveling hte right road here.  I read this chapter this week and kept thinking, yes, yes , yes--this is EXACTLY what I have been working on and working towards these past few years...it has taken years, but I am finally starting to see my efforts bear fruit...I am finally coming in to my own...so much so that those original goals have been attained and i am now having to find new ones, dig deeper to pull out the other more buried desires.

I am looking forward to continuing to do so.

Can't wait to dig into the next week of creativity either....
woo hoo.

Until we return from my trip to WV then....ciao.

The Week Of Truth

Part of me actually worried about this week.  I am well-known for my ability to see what I want to see when I want to see it.  It is part of my job as a counselor to be able to find the version of the Truth that both helps my clients, as well as appeals to them. 

            That is the fine line of what I do.  There are many many ways to say the exact same thing.  Sometimes by saying it in the right way, it provides more…assistance, comfort, joy, whatever….There are times when I say something that feels more right for me, but the person to whom I am talking flips things around in their minds and hears something completely different.  I strive to find that balance between things, where I walk the Truth, but get the necessary gist of Truth across to the person in the best way for them to accept and integrate it into their own lives.

            While I was in massage therapy school, I dragged my best friend, and now boyfriend, through Unified Field Therapy.    This training taught us how to separate our own reference points from any given situation.  Where we are able to strip away the emotional attachment and look at the situation pragmatically.  R was always much better at it than me.  I preferred the shifting state, rather than the let’s think this through from start to finish state.  Mostly because I didn’t want to have to look at things where my children/son’s father was concerned at the time.  UFT is difficult to explain on its own.  The way I am presenting things is my interpretation of what I learned and how I metabolized it.  Please, go to the website, find a Practitioner, learn for yourself. 

            UFT does not teach you to strip the emotion away and neglect it.  It allows you to take that emotion and examine it.  Everything is triggered by something else.  I have a strong a reaction t the scent of baking bread—just as I have an equally strong reaction to the thought of my mother’s white bean soup.  The white bean soup causes me to react in highly emotive ways whenever white beans are present.  It is a conditioned response.  UFT has allowed me to tap into the finer mental interplay between my mind, my memories, my everything, in order to go down, break down and visualize every step in between.  I decide whether I want to continue to have that reaction to the white beans or not.  I prefer to keep that violent reaction to white beans.  Just as I prefer to maintain my over-swelling beautiful perfectly happy reaction to the smell of fresh baked bread.

            Truth is all about choices.  I chose to get up every day, to go to a job I absolutely could not stand, to pay my bills—and on time too, to tolerate the actions of a man I had long since fallen out of love with, but was choosing not to let go of.  We make those choices every single day.  You choose to get up with that alarm clock.  Choose to adhere to dress codes.  Choose to obey –or to disobey—those laws.  You choose to go 70 mph in that 55 mph zone, because you are late, because you chose to sleep in that extra ten minutes.  These are choices.  You could choose to wake up at 11 in the morning.  Wear sweats and a t-shirt.  Not go to work.  refuse to pay your bills.  Live in a cardboard box out in the park.  These are valid choices.  Yet, you chose to do otherwise, because of what that means to you.  Many people are perfectly happy living in ways that to others seem unconventional or inappropriate.  Just because someone else thinks it inappropriate does not mean it is inappropriate. 

            My own choices where my lovely daughter are concerned are a constant strain to my brain some days, because I allow it to be.  I allow my daughter a great deal of personal freedom.  She has chores that I require to be done.  She chooses to do them, in her own time, in her own way.  I allow her to make her own choices.  I also see to it she accepts the consequences of her actions as well.  I could very well spank my daughter every single day, every single time she does something wrong, every time she refuses to do her school work right there that second.  I could turn her into me.  When I was a child, I was terrified.  I had to do everything just right.  Not that I did, but I was supposed to.  And there were violent punishments if I did not do everything.  I’ve been washing dishes by hand since I was about 7 years old.  That is why I HATE to do dishes.  I spent so much time obeying as a child that when I was free from family-life, I fell into a cycle of obedience.  That alone has caused me more pain than I can ever enumerate.  I do not want that for my daughter.  I want her to be strong and savvy, to be her own person.  Of course, I want this, while having a loving and obedient daughter as well.  Beating the snot out of her is not the way to achieve these things.  Of course, I often feel like a schmuck because she is grounded—she is not allowed to play outside.  I do not buy her nearly as much as I used to, nor do I let others buy a lot of stuff for her.  She has to choose to take care of her toys and her clothes if she plans on keeping them.  That is her choice.  If she refuses to take care of things, I throw them in the trash.  Which so kills me some days.  I hate to do it, but I have to, because I said I would.  That is my choice.  She could have a pet snake right now.  Hermit crabs.  Her own Wii system.  A Nintendo DS.  She chooses not to do the necessary schoolwork in order to get all these things she so desires.  I don’t like to take her places when she doesn’t do her work, but I have little choice.  I could leave her at home, but I’d get arrested for child endangerment.  I choose to bring her with me. 

            Choices choices choices.  Truth is all about the choices we make in every thing. 

            It is pretty obvious I have issues with the exs in my life.  I have chosen to release a great deal of my pent-up aggression in my writing.  I used to release a lot more via my writing, but one ex used that to convince his girlfriend (who was what12, 13 years younger than he was) that I was honestly going to kill him.  His choices speak volumes some days.  What honest decent man refuses to feed a child, especially one he knows has blood sugar issues, based simply on the fact that he doesn’t want to?  E was with him for several hours the other Sunday and he did not feed her.  Now, she did say he offered her cereal, but she didn’t want cereal.  We dropped the kids off about 12:30N and picked her up about 6? 7?  Somewhere in there.  No meal in all that time?  No meal, in all that time?  What choices is this man making?  What version of the Truth does he tell himself to justify not feeding a child that he has yelled at me numerous times about because of her poor eating habits (she’s a picky eater)? 

            Is my version of the Truth, the way I see any of the exs, the “real” version of the Truth?  Based upon the way they treated me, based on the way I treated them, based on our interactions…based on interactions with others, who have put pieces into place in many a situation…what is the Truth?

            The ex when he was with me was a huge homophobe, a bigot and racist, and a confirmed atheist.  Who later grew to not be such a racist, although that bigot in him doesn’t seem to have changed much.  He is definitely not a homophobe, given his many proven relationships with men.  Plus, his girlfriend or whatever she is was all over me about how he had always been a Christian.  We won’t go there—because, as I often say, there is an ENORMOUS difference between the Word of God and how his people interpret it…that is a whole other discussion on Truth there…the man who used to brag about wanting a copy of the Necromomicon bound in human skin, or in any skin at all really, but human would be best.  The man who got me into the Wiccan ideology, although, yes, I already had the open-ended religious background, but I never really studied much of the Pagan organized religions until that man handed me his collection of books and had me read them.  That woman swears it’s all me, because he told her I was a witch.

            My Truth is I am not now, nor have I ever been, anything likened until someone who could or would bear the Title of “Witch”.  My mother is a Witch.  I am merely a Wyld Woman.  I am a dirt worshipping tree hugger.  My religion goes back millions of years, before the creation of language.  Oh yes.  But that does not make me a Witch.  I am something else entirely.  My Truth leads me in other directions.  Completely.  I will be the first to say I am an Ordained Non-denominational Minister.  That means not that I deny any religion.  I have chosen to incorporate many religions.  I simply choose to stay away from mainstream organized religions.  That is my Truth.

            If you get me started on religions, we might never leave here. 

            I thought this week of Truth would be difficult for me.  I’ve been having a very hard time in the past few months, learning how to deal with falling in love with my best friend, learning how to be happy, learning how to enjoy things.  Among other situations.  This week was actually a complete boon to me.  I spent several days of this week, alone, with my boyfriend, at his house.  My daughter is visiting her cousins until tomorrow.  My son didn’t have school today, so his dad dropped him off at R’s house for me.  R and N need to spend more time together.  N trusts him.  N loves him.  He should.  R is the very first man in N’s life.  And the only one who has always been stable and consistent.  It’s so much fun to watch them play.  It’s more fun when N isn’t tired, as he was towards the end of the evening, when he became Light Boy, with a flashlight on his head, one in his hand, and a lantern in the other hand.  He didn’t want to give up a flashlight when R needed one as we were grilling in the dark, making salsa.  But they need to get more used to each other.  It really is only a matter of time before we are all living together, and a whole new set of parameters will come into play.

            This week has been a very decisive week for me.  I learned many things in the past couple days.  The one thing I did finally ingest and metabolize is the fact that this really is going to be that darned ‘happily ever after’ program I have spent so much of my life either running from, or fighting to maintain.  I am not saying every single moment is going to be angels blaring trumpets or romping in the daisies.  We have kids.  Nothing will be perfect.  That’s the meaning of kids.  But we will be happy, because we are happy now.  The simple act of sleeping the entire night in one another’s arms has been perhaps the most cathartic and meaningful thing that has happened for quite awhile.  Something so simple, that many people take for granted.  Something that this man has been denied for years, simply because of the people he’s been with, because they always ended up as far from him as possible in bed, when all he wanted was to fall asleep and to wake up in that person’s arms.  He finds it as strange as he finds it wonderful that when we sleep together, we not only fall asleep in each other’s arms, we wake up that way as well.  There is no fleeing from one another in the night, as he has been so used to experiencing.  I won’t even describe my experiences with that.  Let me just say that I haven’t been comfortable sleeping with any man in my bed since the ex-husband.  Until now.  My son’s dad I never could trust.  I was so happy when we finally got the house and we got separate bedrooms. 

            Let me try to stay on track here.

            Jamie asks:

           

If you were carrying around a little joy-meter, what would you be noticing about the joy in your life? What are you discovering about the relationship of Joy to Nothing and to Truth? Sharing our insights and discoveries brings us all closer to joy!

            My joy quotient is definitely MUCH higher this week.  As I flip my keyboard over and shake it out—and have glitter drift all over the place.  I kid you not. 

            I am actually getting better at Nothing.  I have crocheted the same egg white no less than five times this week—only to frog it out because I cannot get it to turn out like the first one.  I don’t know what I did or how I did it, but no matter what I do the second fried egg is simply not wanting to cooperate!  But, I am not actually getting overly upset by that.  I frog the thing.  Set it aside.  Start over the next day.  My friend egg meditation time.  Let me tell you, I surely have to love my friend to keep working this same darn egg over and over and over like this.  And I do, really.

            Truth has become so much easier for me.  I have worked and worked at Truth for YEARS now.  I thought it would be much more difficult, but I have worked so long and so hard at seeing past the veils and the frames of reference and the melodramas that so many people seem to enjoy interjecting into other people’s lives for whatever reason. 

            I am not afraid of who I am.  I am not afraid of what I am.  I am happy.  I am strong.  I work for myself.  I lead the life I want to live.  Yes, there are things I am working towards improving, but I am getting there.  There is no rush to do these things.

            I know it is only October, but I am truly looking forward to the coming year.  This past year has brought us some of the most mind-boggling changes.  I still have the readings of the projections that I made.  We are on track, even though we are not on track the way I thought we would be.  But we are heading the way I thought we would be, heading the way I hoped to head, even though I did not foresee a great many things.  Like R.  He and I weren’t supposed to get together til we were much older.  We’d even discussed it earlier in our relationship.  We made the conscious decision to set all of that aside and remove the middle man, so to speak.  We made the conscious choice to be together now.  We each gave the other more than ample opportunity to run, to leave, to walk away, during the entire process.  We both chose to stay.  Things just keep getting better and better between us. 

            We played pool tonight.  I love pool.  So does he.  It was something so simple, again, but it was such fun.  And N was there to bop in and out, to add his two cents, to knock balls around when we least wanted him to, to tease and to pick, and to just spend time together. 

            There is so much love in our home now.  Even though we have not settled on a house yet.  We are setting up our own Home, together, the four of us, plus the dogs, and the frakkin’ bird, unless I find her a home quick.  If you know anyone in the St Louis area who is knowledgeable about birds and who can care for a conure parrot, and who wants a conure parrot, please let me know.  Email me. 

            Tomorrow, we, as a family, are going to go look at vehicles.  We’ll be going to my dad’s the following week-end.  Picking up a motorcycle.  R will b e riding it until he gets his, and until I get my motorcycle license.  It is good to have a guy around who loves the same things I do.  We are the couple you love to hate.  The ones that not only finish each other’s sentences, but the ones who say the exact same thing at the exact same time in the exact same rhythm and pitch and tone.  lol  It’s pretty funny.  If you only knew how long everyone who has ever seen us together has thought us a couple…ever since we met, darn near.  We have always had that rapport and solidity between us.  I am more than amazed by how good, by how much better, everything is getting between us.  I knew we were good together—we were always good as friends.  But this is more than incredible.  He was always my back-up, the person who stood with me, who stood by me, no matter what.  Now it is so much more than trusting a friend to have my back.  We are still friends, but it is so much more now.  There is nothing we cannot accomplish together.

            To be cliché, it’s a beautiful thing.