Carving Out Some Time...For Drivel....

my personal pic (c) 2010 all rights reserved

            Is it really only Tuesday this week?   I find that hard to believe.

            Sunday was an amazing day.  I met some lovely people.  We got rid of a whole bunch of stuff…and I feel good about where some prized objects are going.  Which leaves us w two very empty bedrooms, one at each house…and us needing a place for my son to sleep before we bring his bed over to the main house this week-end.

            I was amazed, as I watched things go w their new owners, not just my own, but R’s as well, the feelings of nostalgia that crept up.  There were some things I wanted to keep, not because we need them or have space for them or may need them later on…but because of where they came from, who gave them to me in the first place, or why I bought them in the first place.

            The very last piece of the ex-husband is now officially gone.  Or at least the only piece I had left that made me think of him in any way.  We bought a trunk to use as storage and as sort of an end table/coffee table when we first moved to St Louis.  I had long ago painted the top.  Why I painted it rather than decoupaged it, I can’t tell you.  I was into decoupaging things at that time. 

            It is more than time, for both R and I, to let go of things.  It’s more than that.  We aren’t just letting go of things.  We aren’t just getting rid of things.  It’s more like casting out the old…and not only bringing in the new…but reconstructing and rebuilding our life together, from the top down and the bottom up. 

            We went furniture shopping last night, to look for a new bed.  It’s funny to think that neither R nor I have ever had a bedroom set that matches.  This time around, we both will.  We are looking to get rid of all the couches…and to buy new.  I’ve already laid the foundations…if he pays for the trip itself, I will buy the furniture…and we’ll be going to Ikea to redo everything, which we’ve wanted to do anyway…the only question at this point is which Ikea to go to… do we go to Chicago, which neither of us really cares for, or do we drive the 10-13 hours to Pittsburgh, see my family and friends, go shopping, and head home….Pittsburgh has the advantage of my favorite book store being so nicely close to Ikea….but the trip to Chicago can be a one day thing…so we can just go there and back.  I can be in and out of Ikea in under an hour…and redo darn near the entire house…for under $2000…yes, two thousand dollars…and in under an hour—seriously…

            Ok.  I have an incredibly mean streak.  I am having way too much fun thinking how R’s ex so wanted to do what I am doing…and if she had ever been able to open her mouth, it would have happened.  When I moved back to the St Louis area in 2008, he was talking about how he knew he’d be moving in w her soon.  He was just waiting for her to ask him.  We had talked about how he was moving in w her before I was certain I’d be coming back to this area, before I bought the house across the river, everything.  The plan then was, since he was sure she’d ask him (or tell him) to move in to her house that I would rent his house, so that when something happened, and he knew it would, he could move back into his own house without an issue…and we already knew we’d have no issues as roommates.  Since she never once spoke up at all, I bought my house.  Now I am moving in w Rich.  We’ve been together, officially, as a couple, for how long?  And she wanted to move in w him for how long? 

            I have long felt bad for this woman who steadfastly ruins her life due to her inability to open her mouth.  I have the same sort of sadness and …not sympathy exactly for N’s dad, for the exact same reason.  If they could or would ever learn to actually communicate, they might honestly be able to be happy.   Think about it.  She spent how long, buying a house not only for herself but for R as well, while he kept telling her to make sure she was not buying it for him, or his dogs, or for any other reason other than herself.  One, he knew the relationship was not going to last and two, he knew she’d make him absolutely miserable about anything she disliked about the house that was strictly for him in her mind.  She bought the house she thought was best for him, for his dogs.  She never asked him to move in.  She never told him she bought it with him/the dogs in mind.  She complained about the things she had looked for in the house specifically for the dogs, or for him, but never said anything outright about how it had all been for him/his dogs. 

            Now, some of you are going to say he should have been more proactive, telling her what he wanted, getting involved in looking at houses w her, with them as a couple in mind.  That was not what was happening.  She was buying her house, alone.  He could come look at things w her, maybe, but she was the one making all the decisions about everything and she never let him forget that.  He was looking at this as a real estate investment for her…not as their home…which was how she came across as looking at things, even if she meant it otherwise.  (Sorry, I did get to read a few of her emails concerning the house…I am still in therapy over the insipidity of them.)  Basically what I got from things was that she thought she was old enough to buy a house, she had the money to buy a house, it was a good investment for her, and it was time for her to buy a house because that is what grown-ups do.  Not because she’d outgrown her apartment.  Not because she wanted a place or space of her own.  Not because she wanted to set down roots, start a family, build a home. 

            When R and I look at houses, we have two ways of looking at them.  The first is strictly this is a rental house.  We aren’t looking for stuff for ourselves, what we want, what we’d like.  We are looking at it from a monetary standpoint.  Nothing more.  When we look at houses for us, as a couple, we look for so much more.  We are looking for that Home, for that place where we can raise our children, for that place we will be happy putting down roots and growing, a place that will grow w us.  We look together…and we talk about everything.

            I also get the task—I am not complaining—and my kid is doing more of it than I am—of shredding old documents for R that he should have shredded eons ago but never got around to doing it.  That ex did everything in her power to eradicate every trace of any other female ever in R’s life prior to her.  Her getting rid of his divorce documents caused issues for us when we bought the house I am moving out of…and yet, here I am, with access to the ex-wife’s entire financial history and life…which is kinda scary…I know what the ex-husband and his …whatever…did to me…what he did to his other ex-wife…and I have a lot more information about things these days as well…having someone’s social security number is a very very bad thing these days.  Luckily, I won’t do anything at all.  If my own credit weren’t so trashed from my divorce (I never did anything to rebuild it, because of the ex)…then the wreck in 08 completely tanked what was left.  I’m not worried about the ex, or anyone else, doing anything to my credit or stealing my identity…if they want it, they can have it, it’s so bad.  There is a strange freedom in that.  The ex, all the exs, are safe, because they’re all gone and there’s no need to worry about them or think about them or anything else.  I don’t want to cause trouble for or with them.  I simply don’t have the energy to care.  But it is still a freaky power to have in hand, thinking, what if I were such an evil b*tch like everyone says I am…the things I could do…but…that just isn’t me…and I am not sorry about that.

            Now, looking around the house, and listening to the plans R has in his head…and knowing once he tells me I will more than likely push things until they happen, I am pretty jazzed about moving in here.  Not all at once will we do these changes, but as we go along.  Like, putting a door in the back of the house, off the dining room, so it opens out into the backyard, and building a deck/patio there….like cutting away walls and building closets and shelves…like opening up the closet in our bedroom and creating more space and utilizing it all much better…like building a room or two downstairs, finishing out the basement, increasing the usable space and increasing the value of the house.

            We know we are going to be here a couple years.  Strange how when R was teasing me about getting what I wanted (moving in w him), my first reaction …well, ok, my actual first reaction was how exactly is this a castle in Wales?  Snarf.  But after that, it was…the other house, the bigger house, w the land and neighbors far far away and out of sight…it can wait.  I knew, after a week or so to get used to the idea, that we are going to be fine in this house, that even if I were pregnant right this second (I am not), this house still has more than enough room for all of us, even if I were to have twins.  Hey, K from across the street was picking on us last night.  R’s house really is the biggest house on the street.  K has five children, five.  And her house is smaller?  I’ve been in it, at least the top floor.  It is smaller.  They built rooms in the basement.  They have a great screened in porch in the back yard too.  And they raised five, they are raising five children in that house.  Wowsers.

            B and B are coming this week-end w a load of stuff.  Other than the bed, and the rug, I have all of N’s stuff out of his room, so that can at least have that space.  I can have all of the stuff, except the dresser, out of my bedroom this week as well.  We are renting a trailer this week-end to start bringing over the bigger heavier stuff…depending on when we get the floors done here.  At least R and I know we can move everything between the two of us…and most of the heavy and awkward stuff isn’t coming to his house.  I love the salvation army…when there is a disaster, say a tornado that eats houses like candy, they are the first people on the spot, and they stay the entire time.  Unlike the Red Cross, there is no wait time, while people figure out what paperwork needs to be done, who gets vouchers, whatever it is…the second it is safe to come out, salvation army members are there, passing out blankets and coffee and whatever they can.  This opinion is based upon my personal experiences and experiences I personally witnessed during times of disaster.  This is why I always donate to salvation army, and not to the red cross.  The red cross is a bureaucratic machine, from what I saw and continue to see, even though they do do good things…the salvation army just wants to help when help is needed.  That means something to me.

            Why did I go there?  Because the salvation army will take darn near anything in donations…and I do not want to deal w craigslist again simply to get rid of things for free.  I understand that the stuff is free and people need it…but I don’t deal well w stupid.  I don’t want to call you so don’t send me your phone number…that’s why there is an email address…that’s also why items are described in the ad…when it says free in several places on the ad and you are in the free section of listings, that pretty much tells you how much everything costs…I don’t know you so there is no way I am posting my actual address anywhere in the ad nor will I give it out to every goofball who emails and says what’s your address without any confirmation that you 1 want anything we have or 2 are coming to get anything we have…the ad says Florissant…that is all you need until we have a confirmed pick up time.  The other issue I have is…if we are emailing to confirm a pick up time, it pays to read the whole email I send.  Especially when it says, if I am busy and can’t make it, I will leave the item/items on the porch for you…just pick it up.  No one is going to touch it in our neighborhood—except you.  When I have said, in two different emails, that I am not sure I will be there, but I will leave the item on the porch, don’t spend three hours emailing me to ask where I am when I know you have to walk past the trunk in order to get to the front door of the house to knock…and that the trunk is indeed visible from the driveway…as I set it up that way…safe from weather and still visible…Stupid people like that are why I called the salvation army and said…we have couches…we have big furniture…we have stuff…when can you come get it please?  And they said, sure, no problem.  We’ll have a truck there on this day.  At both houses.  With no issues whatsoever.  All R and I have to do is make sure we have everything out there where they can get to it.

            Today I am waiting for the WAC pick-up.  They may be out of luck.  The only time I have ever had issues is w the WAC pick-ups.  Once they didn’t bother to pick anything up, despite the fact 1 they drove by and 2 the stuff was clearly labeled.  I had said the stuff would be in the driveway—unless it rained, when it would be on the porch.  Apparently, they looked in the driveway…and not the 1-2 feet over on the porch, where the bags sat w the big WAC sign on them…and drove on.  I left the bags out til the next morning, in case they just needed to empty the truck and come back.  Today…it is about to rain…there are cardboard boxes of stuff this time.  Rain and cardboard do not mix.  They don’t come get this stuff before the rain starts and I am schlepping everything into the back of the truck and dumping it off at goodwill. 

            I need to mow my lawn too…and can’t back the truck out until they pick up the stuff.  We set it up last night so that we could tarp everything to keep it all dry because it was supposed to rain last night.  *Sigh*  So much to do.

            I get to landscape at R’s house now.  I get to plant my lilac bushes in the backyard under the bedroom window.  I get to plant the azaleas…and the pampas grass.  I get to move the hostas out of the front bed and into a bed we are building under the crab apple tree.  We bought a round raised garden kit the other day.  We had too many kids and too many things going on, so we haven’t gotten the dirt for it yet.  But, once we get it set up, I get to dig up hostas to move them and to plant some bushes along the front of the house.  I’ve been teasing R w the idea of growing something that vines up the banisters along the front porch.  I want to paint those first though, so we’ll see.

            He’s going to have fits when he sees what I can do w plants in a yard…I want roses somewhere around here, dogs be darned.

           

            Red ink tattoos heal so ugly.  When I got my dragon, when it started to shed skin, I honestly thought it was going to come off completely.  My tattoo artist Bryn said that’s normal.  She had similar things happen w her red inks.  My cover up star…egads is it healing ugly…it is healing…and I am starting to see decent tat under all the yuck…but boy for awhile there I thought it would just scar up and be horrid.  Although it does sort of look like zombie flesh at the moment…what w the purple in the middle, over a layer of red…and the white and grey overgrowth as everything heals and flakes off…

           

            Last time we went to the library, I loaded up on knitting books.  I even borrowed a movie…E borrowed several movies.  Since she is refusing to do schoolwork, especially when her brother is w us, she was not allowed to watch the movies…and I never made the time to watch mine…so they went back unwatched.  As I do w knitting books, I found out a couple were worth buying.  So, amazon, here I come.    I had decided that I was going to order several books geared specifically towards E in the hopes of jump starting her desire to learn.  I want to move to something more vital for her, something that doesn’t require me stuck up her butt or her stuck up my butt 24/7 …but something that gets her involved and excited.  I ordered some curriculum books, a book on notebooking, and some journaling for young girls books.

            I look at my 9yo and I see me…when I was 13, 14 yo…and that was a terrible place for me…I don’t want her there.  I want to get her out of her head, out of her dark spaces.  I had my writing.  I had my books.  I had all the things that kept me sane alone in the cave that was my life.  She can see the light—we bloody well keep blinding her with it in our trying to drag her into it…we’ll see if any of this helps.  I am this close to putting her into speech classes though…she mumbles…and I know why based on the people she hangs out w at times…but I can’t get the enunciation through to her.  Grammar she sort of gets, most of the time, but speaking clearly enough to be heard and to be understood…we’re working on her.

            Basically, I ordered The Knitting Experience Book 3: Color…and found out I now own an autographed copy … Sally Mehlville signed this book herself.  I bought this book because it seemed to help w the whole colorwork thing…intarsia, and other techniques.

            I also bought the newest Mason Dixon book and have already started working on the Swifty.  R has been wanting one for awhile now.

           

            Darn it!  This week-end is an ever loving mess!  B and B will be here, unloading a truckload.  Pagan Picnic is this week-end.  I am lucky I don’t have a booth this year—but next year, my friend and I are going in together on a booth.  Sunday is the Bunny Expo that E and I both really want to make it to…R and I want to move furniture this week-end…wowza…how are we ever going to manage it all?

           

            Ok…so enough of this chattering already today…I have to get my front lawn mowed at the very least today.  More is coming soon.  Just hang in there.

Reality Bites

      

      Why do I read the blogs I read?  Is it for the patterns, be they knitting, crochet, sewing, or anything else that takes my fancy?  Is it for the instruction somehow?  This is how we do this thing…  Is it for the recipes?  Is it for the conversation and drama?  The look into someone else’s life? 

      Maybe a better question would be why do I write this stuff myself…

      Why do I read it? 

      Because I like to learn about the person I am dealing with as it gives me a better understanding of where they are coming from w the way they are teaching and/or explaining something…because it is entertaining…because I simply like to learn and know how other people deal w different situations…I like to compare my personal level of insanity to someone else’s level of insanity in order to get a comparative shot to see if I am over the top or just in the groove…because feeling as if I know the person about whom I am reading makes me feel move involved and more connected…and it makes me want to reach out and connect w the person I am reading about in some way.

      Would I tweet or update facebook about every little detail, intimate or not, of my life?  No.  There are things I do keep private…but then again…I do not mind people having some information.  I will never give you blow by blow details of what goes on in my bedroom…but I am proud enough to let everyone know that my man really does it for me in so many ways…

      I like being able to read the drama and get the recipes.  I enjoy the process that goes into creating objects…and the cat the knitter lives w while she creates.  I want to know about the new pieces of art, as well as life w the puppy.   Some days I need to hear about another knitter, what goes on in her life, how her children and significant others act and react.  I need to see what other artists are doing and how things are affecting them in their daily lives as they pursue their art.  I can go on and on, linking to hundreds of other sites.

      I may not read each and every blog every single day, but I do go back to the blogs I follow, and I read.  It uplifts me.  It centers me.  It makes me grateful for the things in my life.  It gives me new ideas.  It refreshes me.

      Now, why do I write this stuff myself?  It started out as a way to get things out of my system.  Writing morning pages simply was not enough.  I had a lot more to get out of my system…and I needed a more public forum in order to keep me honest, to keep me writing, to keep me motivated.  Then I started to get feedback from what I wrote…I was helping others by working through my own stuff.  Some days I do get up and think, no, I won’t touch that in a public forum…and then after thinking about it for awhile, I find myself thinking what if Shelia in the Outback needs to hear what I went through and how I dealt w it in order to help her work through her own issues?  It’s not so farfetched to believe that I can be that beating of the butterfly’s wing for someone else.

      Why do you do what you do?  Why do you read blogs, or tweets, or facebook updates, or anything else?  Why do you post?  Or do you?  Do you simply read and go on w your day?  Do you comment on other’s posts?  What do you do?  How are you connected?

8Things To Fill Me Up

 8Things, and I am on time today too!  Things that Fill Me Up...

Here I am, in the middle of combining my household w my boyfriend’s household as we move in permanently together…while homeschooling my 9yo who really does not want to be schooled in any manner…while having my over-active over-stressed son (who has Sensory Processing Disorder) here for the whole week (this is more about sibling issues than his over-active little butt)…while babysitting a moose, Whiskey.  He’s a 17 mo lab/golden retriever mix.  Think Marmaduke.  He’s absolutely huge.  I have an over-jealous dog, Kendall, already, and Whiskey and his big goofy play w me, play w me puppy stuff is driving her nutty.  We just sent out other babysitting job, Bear, a small older dog we’ve watched before, home on Tuesday evening.  Her we hardly even noticed this time around.  Right now, not only am I fighting sinus issues that are moving into my throat, so is R…and so are the kids…so we are a house full of sicky poo yuckies.  Today I found out my precious purebred Satin Angora rabbits…are not…they are lionhead, jersey wooly and satin angora mixes.  I don’t care about that part.  I love the little snots anyway.  Plus, I love lionheaded  buns anyway…and if I hadn’t been determined to get angoras, I’d have gotten lionheads.  They are currently sitting at the vets, their testes nicely removed, and hopefully w Simon especially their moods improving exponentially.  I am a bit freaky about the care of my bunnies.  I drove 30+ minutes, out to Fenton, to the best rabbit vet in the area, for $220 each rabbit, to have them fixed—and it is worth every single penny and drop of gas to know my boys are so well cared for and so well taken care of…and safe.  Not every vet that says, oh sure, we do rabbits, has any clue about rabbits.  I am just wanting them to be safe and healthy. 

      So, refilling my cup…oh, what a blessing.

1.       Strangely enough, one thing that is really starting to do me a world of good are the podcasts I listen to…I have knitting ones and art ones and writing ones and since I can’t remember what day the Waldorf lectures have been, I’ve been listening to the recordings of the teleconferences…

2.      Being able to walk downstairs first thing in the morning and let one bun out into the play yard for a few hours.  Then switching that bun out for the other one.  Without having to wait for E to get up and get around to things.  Without having to wait for me to finish off whatever it is that I am up to.  Without having to drive to my house, where I haven’t really wanted to be the last couple weeks due to storms.  When there are storms (so go back to the top and add shepherd mix terrified of storms who clings to my backside whenever the weather shifts—til it gets bad enough for her to hide in the bathtub or under the bed), I have the urge to stay home, home at R’s…so the buns haven’t been getting much time out of their tiny cages.  Pray the surgeries this afternoon have made it possible for us to put them together again…so they can have their larger cage and their always open play yard again.

3.      Curling up on the couch, next to R, listening to the tv while I read…I’ve had decent books to read lately.  Like ‘Angel Time’ by Anne Rice…as annoying a read as it is, it is a very inspirational book.

4.      Fans.  Fans blowing, sitting in windows and sitting on the floor.  Air conditioning is ok, but there is something about the curtains blowing and the breeze hitting the backs of my knees at random that makes me smile.

5.      I bought new soap the other day.  We didn’t need new soap.  The smell stopped me.  Mango something or another.  Me and my showering OCD that worsens when I get overheated regularly…two very short showers a day, one in the morning, one at night, w this blissful soap…and then layers of perfume and lotions and powders and clothes that are me, just me, with no other attachments to it.  It’s beautiful.  Weird as I am.

6.      Sleep.  Lots of sleep.  R will tell me I need to go to bed and will handle things when he sees I am pushing too much too hard.  Of course, w N here, wake-up calls are usually way too early…but the snuggling between him and R is fun.

7.      Playing w the crazy dogs is great.  Whiskey does not take no for an answer.  It is actually too fun to watch Whiskey do to Kendall what Ken has long done to Princess and everyone else for so long…and Kendall hates it.  Whiskey chases things, brings them back, plays tug of war, eats bubbles out of bubble baths, chasing the water coming out of the shower head.  Think Marmaduke sized beastie who will jump into the shower w you…and he does, frequently.  If he can’t get into the shower, he’ll wait to try and lick you dry when you come out.  Then he’ll lick the tub dry once he’s sure you’re dry enough.

8.      Flowers.  Our flowers are now starting to bloom.  It’s a little sad to think they are blooming now while we are moving out…but at least we get to see them.  And we are not done planting flowers at R’s house either….

Correction June 4, 2010:
The lady at the vet waited for us to pick the buns...she admitted that she had made a mistake and the vet concurred.  My rabbits are 100% purebred Satin angoras.

The Ego's Attachment

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                                                                       Yes, this is my picture. (c) 2010 All rights reserved.

          It started…well…a long time ago.  When we were in the process of moving from WV to IL.  Was it then?  Or was it even farther back?  Before we left MO for MD?  Somewhere in all of that…Yes, considering the move to MD and the ensuing yard sales…I would say it started in 2006 then…if not farther back…the process of letting go of things.  The yard sales were when I let go of the baby clothes…everything that was not irreparably stained or torn I had saved, from both children, except where I donated things to people who were really in need.

          Despite all the things I have given away, sold, donated and just plain throw away in the ensuing years, there is still so much sitting in my house that I simply do not need and do not use.  Why do I have these things?

          The panic of OHMYGOD, we are moving into R’s house…like, every single bit of us and our stuff, not to use his basement for storage until we find another house, but as in this is now our one and only home…has been hitting me deep and strong since Sunday afternoon…Monday night was the worst of it for me…we were all tired.  I was hot and irritable (PMS is always so much fun anyway).  We were all coming down w sinus issues.  Blah. Blah.  Blah.  Thank goodness R loves me as much as he does and that he knows me as well as he does.  He took me home and we went to sleep.  He would not let me stay up and fuss.  I needed the sleep, badly. 

          But my brain, my brain, who knows so much more than I do, my brain who holds on to details the likes of which I find incomprehensible, rolled on and on.  My brain was making choices, planning, separating, mentally packing, making lists.

          Yesterday, when I was able to pry my loving offspring off the couch and away from the tv, we went to our house.  My first duty was something I had started the week before because the Veteran’s had called asking for donations.  I fear these charities will be sadly disappointed next year when they come calling, as there will be nothing left for us to give.  But this year?  They shall continue to receive an amazing bounty from us as we go through…everything.

          It’s my closets.  It’s always my closets w me.  When I first entered my junior/senior year of high school (remember I took both together), I had barely anything.  I had more notebooks of my writing than I had clothing or anything else put together.  My grandmother sent me some bras and I can still remember looking at them and thinking…it looks like a harness…and not in a good or sexually intersting way…it looked like something you would put on a plough horse or a mule…ah, the memories…snicker…

          Yesterday, standing in first one closet and then the other, I had some very major break-throughs, emotionally, spiritually, mentally.  Oh, the things I had been holding on to for no reason.

          I had clothing for jobs I am never going to take again.  I had khakis for one set of jobs.  I had black slacks for another set of jobs.  I had dressy outfits hung up together for another set of jobs.  I had blouses for office casual.  I had business professional outfits, which I haven’t worked since I was an intern as a teen-ager.  I still have clothing from my wedding and my honeymoon w T.  Ok, so I kept the dresses.  Just a couple.  I like them.  I wear them.  Even though I have yet to wear the dress I was actually married in again since 1990 whatever—it’s still beautiful and still me … I will wear it this summer, because I like the dress. The past year or two, I have looked at it and thought, I could wear it, but today is not the day.  Yesterday I looked at it and thought, why haven’t I worn this dress recently?  It took me a second to recall it was ‘that dress’. 

          I decided I would go through my closets ruthlessly.  I kept only the things that are essentially me.  Ok, so I tried to narrow down my jeans to twenty pairs, but that is simply not going to happen for me.  It’s under thirty and that will have to do.  I did get rid of every blouse that was not me, or that made me think of AR or anywhere else.  I got rid of every top that I had a twinge of this doesn’t look right.  I stripped away detritus where I had not really been cognizant there was detritus.  I went through every single hanger, every piece of folded clothing.  I went through jeans, slacks, skirts, sweaters, sweat pants, stretch pants, shorts, lingerie, socks, pajamas…every single drawer, every shelf, every closet.

          I can honestly say that I think every item of clothing I have on a hanger can fit into one single small closet now…w the stuff that is not hung up needing only a few shelves.  This is my entire wardrobe…all four seasons, plus maternity clothes.  I even went through my shoes.  No less than six pairs of shoes are being donated this round…anything that makes me the slightest bit uncomfortable is gone.  I touched my sweaters and thought every single turtle neck must go…except for one, but that is made out of a silk-cotton blend and if every I devolve a sweater, this will be the one.  I believe I now own more cardigans than I do pullovers.  Scary, isn’t it?  When I moved from MO to MD, I had two, maybe three HUGE plastic containers full of nothing but sweaters, plus the odd box of sweaters here and there as well.  With cardigans, I probably have twenty sweaters, maybe.  Twenty…out of originally…hundreds?  Who knows…

          It was so interesting to go through everything without the emotional attachments with which I have been approaching this process.  This time I went in specifically…this shirt is me…these pants are not me…this sweater is me…this skirt is not me.  No stone was left unturned. 

          One particular piece really brought it all home to me.  This very beautiful lacey patchwork skirt, with little bells on the ties.  The elastic has long been overstretched on it, but it also has a tie at the waist.  I wore this skirt when we boarded the cruise ship on our honeymoon.  I loved that skirt.  I still love that skirt.  I took it off the hanger, tested the waistband.  Looked it over.  This skirt really is me.  But…it isn’t serving me right now.  I haven’t touched it since the cruise, except to move it.  I know I won’t wear it.  I put it back on the hanger and started through the rest of the skirts.  Then I stopped.  I came back to that skirt.  I looked at it.  I really looked at it.  I was keeping it only because it reminded me of a time when I thought I was happy.  Before the ex opened his mouth and ruined that whole cruise for me…I don’t even remember now what it was…but somehow it was my fault that things weren’t perfect…that was the whole relationship.  Everything was my fault, even though all he spoke were lies.  That is what that skirt represented to me.  In truth, that lovely skirt, with its wasted waist band summed up that person I once might have been but would never have a chance to be.  The person he did not ruin.  The person I allowed to turn and walk away.  I made the choices…I chose to believe…not believe in him, just to believe him.  I chose yesterday to lay that whole episode to rest and let it know some peace.  That chapter of this life is over.  The mistakes I made there and the lessons I learned there still reverberate through my life now, but I am not the same person and I do not react the same way.  I am a different person now, someone who can take that step back and know it is me reacting and if given a second or two, logic and reason can reign, or at least be introduced.

          I am grateful…although I am sometimes upset by admitting it…for all the pain and the misery and the agony and the fear I went through w the ex-husband.  It is over now.  It is done and gone.  Now it is finally laid to rest, never again to be mourned.

          Funny how things works out.  The little things, like a skirt, that can characterize an era of a life.  Now it, like so many other things, is gone from my life.  I am not making room for new things to come in to fill up the space that these things have left.  I have made room for a new life, a new energy, a new wondrous fulfillment—which does not require that every little space be filled or that every item lost be replaced. 

          As I let that one simple skirt slip into the bag along w the other donations, I felt the scar tissue in my heart shift and drop away.  I felt the first cool breath of fresh air on the newly healed spot there, the bright pink flesh.  It is a good feeling, that strange wistful pain that comes when the old and not so wonderful slips away to be replaced w the new and unmarred wonderful. 

          Despite everything that went away yesterday…and I am telling you, between clothes, throw pillows in my bedroom (the pillows are from a couch that I haven’t had in four years) and just a touch of the linen closet, I do not feel hollow, or empty, or in need of a shopping trip to refill the shelves or anything like that.  I feel so full…so perfect…and completely satiated and satisfied.  It is truly incredible.  I have more than I could have ever asked for these days.  The holes in my soul that I have used material items to fill and to fulfill no longer require such drastic measures.  All of that need is gone now.  I am happy.  In ways I honestly never dreamed possible.

I have thirteen 30 gallon trash bags ready to be donated to the Vietnam Veteran’s Association this week.  That was all gathered in one day…and that is not even everything.  I have already started the plans for the next charity that calls to request donations, simply because I don’t think I’ll be able to get rid of as much as I want to get rid of before the VVA comes to collect what we have ready this week.

NEWS!

Can we say WOW!  It is so very funny how things work out.  Two of R’s friends came into town from NE this week-end.  B is getting out of the Air Force soon and they are looking to move back to St Louis.   R and I are moose-sitting for them, their dog Whiskey. B and B, and Baby H, went house-hunting while they were here this past week-end. 

It seems that we did not buy my house for me.  We really bought it for them.  As soon as B walked into that house, I knew it was their house. 

So, what does this mean?  Thankfully, it does not mean full-throttle choke a horse you have to move out so fast move for me.  It does mean a move…but R and I are combining households now, rather than later.

The original plan was to buy ‘my’ house for the kids and me.  Then R would get a better job, or the kids and I would stay there long enough to build up the payment history on the place as a rental, then buy a third larger house (the four bedroom house w 3+ acres of land)…we all move into the big house and rent out the two little houses. 

The plan now is…to figure out what stays and what goes in both houses so we can get everything from both houses into one house…

First thing we need to do is …have the carpets at R’s removed and the floors (which are hardwood) treated and fixed up.  Then the heavy lifting shall ensue. 

B and B will be back in 2 weeks w a load of their stuff.  I do not have to have everything out by then; they simply need a space to put their stuff…which is cool.  The weird thing is…if I had to have that house empty in 2 weeks, I could do it.  I could move all the smaller stuff on my own during the day/week…and R and I could pick one day to rent a trailer or truck or whatever and move the big stuff.

Except…we’re waiting to find out about the when of the floors…and I have N all week this week.

Aside here:

            I got a call from T last Thursday telling me that was N’s last day of school for the year and could he drop N that day.  Fine.  But…he “just” found out that was N’s very last day of school?  He couldn’t have thought to mention that, say, the week before, at E’s birthday party when we were discussing N’s summer?         

            Which leads to my next point.  R, E and I planned to go canoeing on Memorial Day (yesterday)…and didn’t think N would enjoy it.  I told T this …the week-end of E’s party.  I wanted to make sure he had plenty of heads up.  Now, at the party/that week-end, T had asked if I wanted to have N for 1 week at a time out of every 4 during the summer, as N has some sort of school camp or something all summer.  I am assuming, because I will never be told, that it has something to do w the autistic therapy or whatever.  No dates or weeks were ever mentioned, suggested, told or said.  All I was told was classes run for three weeks and then N has a week off.  Again, I assumed T would give us some heads up on which weeks were ours…especially, at least, the first week, knowing that T would assume I can count 3 weeks and know that N would be there the fourth. With me still? 

We drop N off at T’s on Sunday, so that T has N for Memorial Day.  T kept asking me what time we’d be back after canoeing.  I for the life of me could not figure out why the man was so interested in knowing when we’d be back.  It didn’t make any sense to me.  I think he asked me like five times before I finally asked why he needed to know.  For the record, I wasn’t being coy…I kept saying, I don’t know what time we’ll be back.  We’re going canoeing.  We don’t actually have a schedule or a time frame.  We were thinking canoe most of the day and then do some other things after canoeing, maybe, depending upon how everyone felt.  No real set plans.  Come to find out, THIS week is N’s first week off.  I had NO idea.  If T had spoken up sooner about it, I would have changed things around a bit so that N stayed w us on Memorial Day, because it’s silly to drive the boy back and forth that way.  It makes him mean and nasty tempered too.  We are currently not only dog sitting Whiskey, we are also dog sitting Bear, who is an older grand dame much set in her ways…and who is not exactly overjoyed by Kendall, much less Whiskey…and four dogs, three of whom already know each other, now shut up in one house….means pack hierarchy issues for the first few days…not fun w dogs growling and snarling and having to worry where both kids are when the snarfing commences…

R was upset, to put it nicely, over the lack of communication by T…but as I told him…it’s been nearly eight years and now and then, I see an improvement, but overall, I have to say the complete lack of consideration for the schedules of others and the lack of communication at all levels has not changed…and there is no way to make it change either.  Short of someone else taking over his communication commitments and doing it for him.  He thinks I don’t want to see him w someone.  I have ALWAYS wanted to see him w someone so that he can be happy.  Now I want someone decent in his life so that R and I have a better chance at having someone in that household with whom to communicate at a normal level so that we can all have a better relationship together…which is all I have every asked for in the first place. 

Which reminds me…I really need to ask T what week in July N has off because I am planning to go to WV for a few days then…July?  I must be crazy…

So, we had SO much fun w B, B, and H this week-end.  Both kids got to swim in the pool at their hotel.  I could not believe how much N loved it.  Now, he has always loved water…but the boy darn near dove into 5 feet deep waters without a second thought.  No, he cannot swim.  B and B have a 6yo dd who lives w her mom that got to visit on Sunday…E and she were totally inseparable the entire time.  It was so awesome.  I cannot WAIT for these guys to move in nearby…this is going to be TERRIFIC.

In the meantime…let me start off by saying I had a much better time w B and B than I would have had if I had stuck to my own plans this past week-end.  First, we did make it to value village and I bought N not only a bunch of summer type clothes…some shorts and T shirts (we had to buy him swim trunks so we could take him swimming w us…T is still on the whole send only the too small and too holey stuff w N, if and when he sends stuff for N to wear…but I’m not going to worry about that anymore…we buy N clothes and N actually prefers they stay here w us…his favorite shirt was one N picked out himself, a collared shirt w stars.  He loves that thing so much and I always ask him if he wants to wear it or take it back to T’s w him and N throws fits to make sure it doesn’t leave my house…), plus I also bought him some pants/jeans for when colder weather comes along…they were 50% off…I sort of had to do it…it’s the mom in me…

We did not make it to the Book House for their Memorial Day Sale.  Yeah, I know…as if I need more books.

I did recently go through my bookcases, at least partially.  I have a big box of books to sell or donate.  And that is only the beginning.  I was surprised by the knitting and crochet and other crafting books I decided to let go of…now I have a better reason to let go of some more too…now that we are moving…

We did not make it to Kirkwood Knittery either for their Memorial Day sale.  Which is a shame, because I was sort of wanting to buy some dyed roving to play w, to play w needle felting a little bit more.  No huge loss.  I was looking for some bulky weight cotton and/or cotton blend to continue to play w the ribby tank I keep making over and over…I do believe I saved money and actually bought more yarn when I ordered from smileys yarns this morning…originally, I was planning to order some cotton blends from knitpicks.  And now they are having a sale…of course!!  Which is fine…I am still WAY happier with what I ordered this morning…I bought some soy yarn that I am going to use in place of Noro for the sweater I want to make…along w the cotton yarn to make several tank tops that I can actually wear in the summer heat. 

Ok…I really must go to my house and start working on something there…

More to come…very very soon…

8 things, On Friday--Of Course

Improved Eating

Improved Eating?  Uhm…how about improved lifestyle instead? 

I have to be very careful about diet and eating to begin with—I was anorexic and bulimic as a teen-ager.  No one ever tells you being anorexic and/or bulimic is like being a drug addict.  You can kick the habit—but it is always w you, sitting on your shoulder, waiting to jump back in and get you back on that train.

I also have low blood sugar issues and have to be sure I eat every so often…which I do not like to do at all. 

Technically, I am supposed to eat several small meals and several light snacks all day long.  I can’t do that.  Physically, I would probably be fine w it—but mentally—I just can’t do it.

I’m a grazer.  I pick and snack here and there.  I love food.  I do not like to eat.  Weird combo, huh?

If I get hungry, the first thing I do—after ignoring the sensation for about an hour or so—is drink a full glass of water.  Why?  Why do I ignore the sensation?  Because I prefer to be busy.  Why do I drink the water?  Statistics (somewhere out there) say that 9 times out of 10 when you think your body is hungry, it is actually thirsty.  I also know that supposedly (darn the scientists for figuring these things out) that hunger pains go away in about 20 minutes.  So you drink the water, you body thinks your belly is full…voila.

Having said all that…my ‘normal’ idea of a diet is milk for breakfast (ovaltine), milk for lunch (ovaltine again), and a big meal when R comes home.  I drink hot tea (w no sugar or lemon or milk or anything) and cold tea (not super sweet, a scant cup of sugar to one gallon of tea) all day.  I will drink fruit juices when I start to crave them, which is rare.  I will drink water.

My dad recently sent me an email about the best times to drink water.  You drink water first thing in the morning to get your system ready for the day.  You drink water before bed to …well…I don’t drink water right before bed…I want to sleep the whole night through and I don’t want to wet the bed (I have small children…first place my brain goes…)  There were other times when drinking a glass of water is supposedly more beneficial to your body…but the water first thing in the morning is the one I stick to and the only one I remember.  It makes me feel better anyway.   

I recently tried my only one meal a day diet plan recently.  If I could get up and do an hour’s worth of yoga first thing in the morning…I would not require as much food.  Strange, but true.  Problem:  I won’t do yoga at my boyfriend’s house.  Maybe I will once we have all the carpets removed and the floors redone…but right now…I am not sticking my face in a floor that smells of …dog…incontinent dog at that.  It totally breaks my concentration.

So, I am lucky to go to my own house in the afternoon and do yoga then.  Although it’s been the Bollywood dance of late.  But still—at least I am doing something…my boyfriend gets very upset w me if I don’t eat—I tend to get dizzy and woozy and off-balance, well, more so than usual anyway.  And even though I know the scientific facts behind it, my body gets upset when I don’t eat.  Note to others:  according to science, if you don’t eat, your body goes into starvation mode—it retains fat and liquid and whatever else it can hold on to…if you eat more, your body lets go of more.  How weird is that?

Enough babble yet?

What am I planning to do?

This is not really a diet.  This is more of a lifestyle plan.

1.       Increase grainage.  Brown, red, black rices…not all together…but the stranger the color and texture, for some reason the more the 9yo girl wants to eat it.  Actually, all this is for me is whole grain/multi-grain toast, 2 slices, for breakfast.  With rose hip jam on them—not butter and jam.  Just the jam.  I do as much whole grain as I can, or at least grain stuff as I can.  I always throw a handful of barley or something into soups and stews.

2.      Increase fresh fruit and veg intake.  Yee haw farmer’s markets and the patio gardens we have.  I tend to eat lighter during the hotter weather—mostly because the last thing I want is a heavy stomach—even if all I am eating is toast.  I tend to crave salads anyway.  I prefer spinach to lettuce…which is good from a nutrient level…

3.      I still do not eat 3 meals a day.  I eat breakfast—that’s my new rule—must eat breakfast.  I eat dinner; I love having dinner w my family.  I do not over-eat.  My mother trained me to clean my plate.  Some days it is harder than others to make myself leave something on the plate, but I do try.  I have also tried making sure I put less on the plate, so if I do finish it, I don’t feel as bad.

4.      R and I normally cook together.  He does one part and I do the other.  Cooking together makes us more involved in the food we’re having.  We plan our meals better.  It’s not nearly so haphazard.  The food actually has more value…not just nutritionally…but emotionally.  I am an emotional eater.  Appetite suppressants have no affect on me whatsoever.  My 9yo daughter shows the same aptitude.  If she gets upset at all, her stomach hurts and she can’t eat.  Cooking as a family brings us closer together.  We are also not allowed to discuss things that will cause upset—so no talk of E’s schoolwork, or anything stressful for any of us.

5.      Growing our own veg and herbs.  Not just buying local produce in season, but growing our own.  Ok, so we have a potted garden on our back patio…and we fertilize daily w whatever we sweep out of the rabbit cages (we have to keep them separated until after we get them fixed—they are still healing from their fight—I wanted them totally healed before I drive them the 30+ minutes to the vet for surgery…).  This year we have 5 times more tomatoes than we had last year.  Of course, this year I chose to grow Romano tomatoes…but, boy, are they growing well.  The turnip greens are a hit w the rabbits.  I can’t drench my spinach w soap much more to save it from the bugs…if I do, I fear we will hiccup soap bubbles whenever we eat the spinach.

6.      I do take supplements to increase the rate of my metabolism.  Hey, I am close to 40 yo and I am under no illusions about how the body changes.  I can drink a tablespoon of vinegar a day…or I can take apple cider vinegar tablets…at which point I am ingesting 4 or more equivalent tablespoons of vinegar—without the vile taste and the gulping of raw honey (which is INSANELY difficult to find…I must have raw, unprocessed, unpasteurized honey…local if possible—but I haven’t found any local) followed by whatever I have on hand to drink that isn’t water or milk.  Water doesn’t do much to kill the vinegar taste—and for some reason the milk seems to make it worse, and causes upset tummy…).  Cayenne mint combined is one supplement.  The mint counteracts the upset tummy over that big hit of cayenne.  Ginger supplement.  I rotate others, like garlic (odorless and tasteless), lavender, alfalfa…I have also started to drink a capful (maybe 3-4 tablespoons?) of aloe vera juice in the morning.  Be careful and do the research on aloe vera juice.  It can be quite the purgative if you take more than a little bit of it at a time.

7.      I am increasing yogurts, kefirs, and anything semi-probiotic-like.  I need the calcium…that’s where it started.  There is research out there that says calcium helps you lose weight.  I don’t like to take the vitamins anymore…the supplements I take are herbal in nature…so not manufactured vitamins or minerals.  I keep everything skim, no fat, low fat, as much as possible.  We only drink skim milk here.

8.      Believe it or not, talking w R about what I am eating and how I am eating has done wonders for me.  He keeps me on an even keel, helps me out, and is working w me on the types of food I want to eat more of and so on.

Now, I do have an extra one…we don’t eat out as much.  We normally eat out a couple times a week.  We always eat out on the week-end when we have both kids…we normally take E and N to lunch, and sometimes supper, before we take N back to his dad’s house.  That usually means McDonald’s playground…neither kid cares where they eat, so long as there is a playground.  So, we are cutting back on our eating out –and we are going to better places, or rather healthier places, when we do go out. 

My other caveat is I try to do something, anything, dance, yoga, basic stretching, ride my stationary bike, something for at least 15 minutes a day.  It doesn’t sound like much, but it does a great deal towards making me feel better, which actually makes me feel thinner…and my scale may not be in total agreement, but my skinny girl jeans are fitting better…so that says something.

In Full Bloom

            I needed this month’s dreamboard.  More than I have needed any dreamboard of late.  I needed that push in one direction or another to help me get on track, or to at least figure out what track I am on.  Once I know where I am going, I can get there.  Sometimes it is the knowing that makes all the difference.

            Jamie is such a huge and powerful Inspirer…I love those times when I catch her posts on facebook or on her website/blog where she puts into words the feelings and emotions that are pulsing through me…she is that added little extra push that gets me going and allows me to figure out whatever it is that I am in need of figuring out at the time.

            This is the Full Flower Moon…and when I set my intention along the New Moon, I was asking for guidance to show me where I needed to be blooming …what avenues I needed to pursue more…which direction in which I needed to focus my often times very splintered attention…this month I was highly rewarded. 

            Now, I’ve been cleaning out my house…which has caused a HUGE shortage in available magazines and whatnot from which to garner pictures.  I’ve been really lucky to find some strange and wonderful things of late.  I found several local magazines that had perfect pictures for what I needed.  I am personally astounded by quite a bit of the imagery used.

            The central image is of Alice in Wonderland…she was the first image I laid down.  She sat there on the board alone, as I found her at the New Moon…but more pieces began to come together…the board began to take shape…and voila…

            All I can say is WOW! 

            There is so much wonderful movement in this piece.

            Now, I will admit that I worked on this board between the New Moon and the Full Moon…I will admit I have had this piece up on my wall in my kitchen for over a week now.  I will also admit that I have already started to put some of this poetry into motion.

            The first thing I did was get some dance dvds…not just belly dancing, since I have actually had those for awhile, but Bollywood dancing.  It started out as a fluke.  One of my favorite yoga dvds is by Hemalayaa Behl.  I like her energy.  I like the way she speaks.  I like her philosophy as it is presented in this video.  My original plan was to see about buying more of her yoga dvds.  I never made it that far.  But, I did buy several of her Bollywood dance dvds.  One reason I bought them was all the reviews that said she goes slowly and explains things, so it’s easy to get into the movement—without getting lost.  Cardio and I are not friends…which is why I have long loved yoga…I can move slowly for hours at a time, but make me move fast and I’ll be done in 15 minutes, if I last that long.  My favorite dvd by far as yet is the dance of the Kama Sutra…and for most people it is not what you think…because my 9yo and I will do it together—which is another reason I went for slow—but fun—which these dvds are.

            I had not realized how much I would love the dance, how much I would love dancing.  If yoga frees my soul and my mind, the dance frees my body in ways yoga never has.  I used to love to dance…then…well…I got married.  I have spent the last year, realizing exactly what the ex-husband “saved” me from…what I allowed him to take away from me.  It’s not sad; it’s a new beginning.  Finding these pieces of me I had nearly forgotten, or had forgotten completely.

            We can also say it was my daughter’s birthday requests that had to be knitted…or my weird jag of wanting to knit myself some tank tops and halter tops for the summer, but I have gone more into my knitting lately.  I signed up to take Level 1 and Level 2 of the Craft Yarn Council Of America’s certified knitting instructor program.  I had thought of doing the crochet program as well…but after reading over things, I don’t think my crochet skills are up to the test yet…I have been thinking for a couple years about taking the Knitting Guild Of America’s Master Knitter program.  I probably will, in a year or so.  For right now, the courses I have signed up for are what I need.  I know I can pass the Level 1 of the Master Knitter program w TKGA, but after that, I am not so sure.  I think it is worth it to build up my confidence w this first sojourn rather than to allow myself to knowingly walk in where I will fail.  Which is strange in and of itself, since the stuff on the Level 2 is the stuff I want to learn.

            Yes, I know what that says about me.  I don’t like to fail and I mean to be prepared before I even start a new endeavor.  I know.  Maybe that is why I am so slow about doing other things as well.

            My one giggle w this board is the ladies in the white bikinis on the beach.  My boyfriend loves the beach…loves the sun.  I love the beach…at night.  I am all for moon bathing.  I do it now.  I am the pale chick, the vampire in the sun…I can deal with some sun…but the beach?  Laying out, in the sun, to crisp my skin?  That’s not me…but I know I am willing to do things for R…and I do know he has been talking about us going to the beach for awhile now.  So I will not say no.

            I have also been pushing back into my more artistic endeavors.  My drawing, thanks to a tree at my local yarn store.  Really.  Just this one tree.  A tree that has always been there in the parking lot, looking like it always does.  But for some reason, over a month ago, this tree caught my attention.  It demanded my attention.  I sketched it that first day—very VERY rough draft.  I had to go back the next week, w my camera.  So, I used it as an excuse to buy more yarn.  Big deal.  But I took over a dozen pictures of this tree.  I draw it over and over…even just in my mind…but I am back in the saddle, even if I am not whipping the horse to get full throttle…Funny thing is now I am more interested in photography as well…

            I actually needle felted for the first time the other night.  My fingers are healing nicely, thank you.  I ordered a Waldorf doll making kit…and am going to start that today.  I bought a small beginner’s set of wood working tools…hand carving.  R and I are really into the ‘-cello’ market…as in limoncello….we have lime-oncello steeping…the blood cordial (raspberry) was addictive…it went over very well.  We now have plum cordial and apricot cordial steeping.  

            On the cordials, I think we are going to cut down the sugar content…and let them steep longer than the recipe required three weeks.  But oh gosh, do we have a new enterprise here!

            R and I have been getting so many compliments…and requests and orders…for our jerky and lately for our fried potatoes…that people are suggesting we open our own restaurant…which pushes us back into our bed and breakfast idea…It’s warm weather…and that means…my weird bizarre upside down clock wants to BAKE…my kids want breads and cookies and scones and you name it…which is why I bought the convection oven in the first place…although I have not run it through its paces of late. 

            Things are really moving forward.

            A couple things do surprise me about this board.  The St Louis picture and the American flag picture.  I have ideas about those, but I’ll wait. 

            I am very interested to see where the coming month leads.