Support

SUPPORT:

To sustain (a person, the mind, spirits, courage, etc.) under trial or affliction:

“They supported him throughout his ordeal.”
THIS is what my father raised me to do.  Although he was an alcoholic, he was a happy alcoholic and he was pretty much careful to drink when we children were not around.  It was an “adult” thing.  I suppose like sex was an “adult” thing.
I have thought of the word “support” many times during my life and, sometimes unfortunately for me, I have given my support to the wrong people or the wrong organization or causes sometimes and have lived to regret it but always, always when I see something happening that I believe is wrong to an animal or person I will give my support to that animal or person.  I WILL NOT turn my back because I am afraid of offending someone or getting injured.
What does this make me?  When you look at the world today how much support do you see being given?  You hear pleas of support from poor people, from disabled people, from the elderly.
You also hear how hard it is to make friends.  I never believed that.  You hear that blood is thicker than water.  I unfortunately never believed that either.  You hear how churches are sanctuaries, how hospitals are to cure the ill, how policemen are to help keep the peace, how attorneys are to work for the person who is paying for them, how friends will be friends forever and even though they drift apart, when they see each other again there may be a bit of awkwardness but they will still be friends.
It is hard to make friends, which I suppose is why they become close to begin with.  Family blood is only thicker than water depending on the family.  Churches are sanctuaries unless you are only going along with their beliefs and they are not afraid that they will get in trouble.  Hospitals are to cure the ill depending on the people that work there and if they follow the rules that they have been given and if the people needing care are telling the truth.  Policemen keep the peace as long as they are following their regulations and Attorneys will work for the person who pays them the most or who they are best friends with.  Friends are rarely friends forever.  They “move on”, they have other things to do and they, of course, don’t want to get involved with their so called friends’ troubles because they would like a smooth life also.
Because I am what my father taught me to be I find it extremely painful to learn these lessons.  Each lesson hits me like a ton of rocks as he was my favorite person.
Each lesson probably hit him the same way and since I am so like my father (only he didn’t have a computer), he probably had to talk to others to help him feel better.  I remember the people that he told me not to “hang around with” and that he would talk bad about to other adults.  So, a family member that tells me that my father would be embarrassed did not know my father very well.
I am finally coming to grips with this thing that happened, although I will probably never get over it.  I think that the hardest thing is that I knew my family was dysfunctional but I always hoped.  I hoped that they would some day love me and that someday they would understand me.
The death of your entire family at one time is difficult.  Not only did they die but everyone that believes in them and is friends with them has also died for me because one outcast or black sheep is not going to be believed.
I can only again thank my few friends for keeping me going, for giving me hope (and I do include God as a friend), for helping me think of the good things and for reaffirming that I am not insane because there are many people who are going through the same thing as I.
Noodles?

Chow

Luckily for me, I only had to remove one post from my blog from my “younger sister” as soon as I got to the computer this morning.  Then I started my normal morning routine only with thinking which of the things I had in my hands that I was going to take to Maine.  I usually do this prior to a trip so that I remember things to take.

This will hopefully be a short trip to find an apartment.  Then will come part 2 where I have to figure out which things and how to get them up there.  I somehow can’t imagine driving a U-Haul to Maine.  I mean, I have trouble backing up a car!  If I found someone to drive the truck and I drove the car, how would that someone get home?  Since friends and family are few and far between here, I certainly won’t find two people to help me.  I won’t ask any friends in Maine to drive back in my car, help me pack up and then make the trip back to Maine.  I surely am glad this move isn’t to Alaska.

One step at a time.  The fun part, I hope, is going online to look at houses and apartments  Please let some of them take dogs.

I’ve been sleeping well, haven’t cried once today and I think I’m pulling myself together despite everything being all topsy turvy.  In fact, I may even be hungry!  Chow!

Keep on Goin’

I’ve decided to keep on going with my blogs because I will probably never get this many readers again.  Besides, my choices are going to the dentist or just sitting around worrying about things.

Many people have asked me how to read the comments that I receive on the blogs.  Just click the word “comments” on the bottom of each blog.  However, I warn you, some are not nice.  But, if you don’t like me then you will just laugh your head off and have a good time.  However I do like comments and knowing that you are reading my work.  So please continue.

Today was Dentist day,  yesterday Very Far Away Therapist Day, Friday was Hospital Therapist day and Eye Day, Wednesday Near Therapist Day, the 1st was Neurologist Day, the 3rd was Attorney day and Veterinarian Day, and the 25th My Husband’s Therapist Day.  Good Grief, what is wrong with this picture?  Of course there are a few days in there because I’m trying to forget them.  And, whoopee, I don’t think there are any days in next week!  Couldn’t all physical and mental doctors join forces so that we don’t have so many wars that have to do with gas?

However, I am waiting for three important calls from Maine so that I can boogie on up there to look for an apartment because I am beginning to feel a little cramped here and I’m sure my “family” will be much relieved when I go.  My Far Away Therapist says I really don’t have to sneak away and can drive by myself but if you find me missing……

Again, thank you so much to my friends (imaginary or not) for their support while I was being attacked by the wolves.  I kept thinking about those National Geographic films where when there is a weak animal in the herd that that is where the wolves charge to.  Yikes!  I just found out that my Brother-in-Law is very ill and I pray that this doesn’t happen to him.  When he and I were young I was so jealous of my oldest Sister because I KNEW he was for me!  Wrong again.

Believe it or not, it is a very sunny day today and each day I’m feeling better.  I only hope that each day I can treat my friends a little better because I have been a little cranky lately but one of the therapists (which one?) said that it was probably Posttraumatic Stress.  I should go look that up since I am a baby boomer and quite a few men that I went to school with came back from Nam with that disorder and maybe I would understand them better.

There once was a lady incarcerated;

Who when she got home she changed her bed;

She felt better scrunched up;

Warm milk in her cup;

And a warm Santa Claus cap on her head.

and….

Noodles (as I explained to a friend in Los Angeles,  “Noodles”  is a word substituted for “good bye” because I don’t like “good bye” at all)

BetterWorseBetterWorse

Waking up this morning I felt even a little better because at 3:00 a.m. I dragged myself out of bed and went into the smaller, front bedroom where I could hear any street noises.  There weren’t many because we live in the country but just in case….

As usual, I turned on my computer after coming down stairs and went to my email and lo and behold!  there were two comments to my “Better” blog.  I love to know that people read my blogs even if they don’t agree with them.  Jackie, kudos for your encouragement.

I was appalled at my youngest sisters comment which I did post.  I posted it so that all you supporters can see why I got into the state that I was in.  However, I can only wonder why I keep being surprised and why it does still matter to me what my family thinks of me.  I suppose this is something that will remain with me for the rest of my life and is something that I will have to keep working on to lower the stess.  Sort of what they called at the hospital, “My Safety Plan”.  It certainly would help though if I wasn’t being treated like a kickball by them!

As for the good news…This is the first year I haven’t worried about winter coming.  Do you think my Seasonal Affective Disorder has been pushed aside by what happened?  Please, for those of you with SAD, don’t try this at home!

And for more good news…you would not believe all the good wishes and offers of help and love that I received yesterday when I started to go back to my regular routine.  I do want to thank everyone so much!  Now all of you, and all you meanies, please send money.  I prefer non-counterfit bills, small or large.  LOL

Short for today because I’m back to my appointments (mostly psyche wouldn’t you know) but know I am thinking of all you wonderful people each time I stub my toe.  Thank you.

Better

Every day I’m getting a little bit better.  I only cried for about an hour today and the rest of the day I was very angry.  Not an improvement in Grandmother Spider’s eyes but I think I feel better.  I’ve appreciated very much the comments that I have been getting from my imaginary friends:  Ken, Paul, Monica, Tia, Terhi, Pamela, Eva, Teresa Cleland, Patricia, Ed, Scott, Gloria, Diane, Darlyne Smith, Ylva, Katrina, Darla, Jackie and everyone else who I unpardonably didn’t mention because I was having a meltdown.  Now you are all famous for being on my blog, read by (I’m sure) millions and millions of people.

I also thank my dogs for keeping my mind off my troubles by looking so terrible and scruffy.

I went to the Office of Mental Health who welcomed me with open arms and stated that my recovery is a partnership between them and myself to ensure my optimum health and functioning and signed my paper (which I already knew) stating the risks of therapy include “important people in your life may not support my decision to be in therapy that he or she is crazy or weak.  Someone may stop associating with the person because they found out that he or she is in therapy”  (my note: whether they want to be or not)

Another risk: Some health insurance companies deny coverage for the treatment of preexisting conditions.

I have to sign up with them on the web.

As for disclosures: to Blue Cross/Blue Shield business partners who need access to the information to perform administrative or professional services on my behalf or

If I am a danger to myself or others or

I die and the communication is important to decide an issue concerning a deed of conveyance, will or other writing executed by me affecting an interest in property or

I have filed suit against anyone and have claimed mental/emotional damages as part of the suit.

I am not able to have a weapon.  Any kind, including mace, billy sticks or even tree branches.

Around me, people are to lock up lenghths of rope, razors, knives, lighters, etc, medications and pharmaceuticals, bleach poisons, antifreeze, etc.

People are to restrict access to motor vehicle usage, increase supervision, monitoring and active interaction, monitor warning signs such as giving away belongings, etc.

If I leave and my “safety” person (my alcoholic husband) is concerned, it is essential that he contact 911.

There is no end date on this document.  Nothing that states that I can have a doctor or therapist revoke it.  Since my attorney didn’t seem too concerned, I am going in to Rochester to see if there is a way to get out of it, fight it or do anything.

My main (pun there) idea is to quick find an apartment in Maine.  I’m wondering if there is a caveat on my driver’s license now.  Paul said he would lower the price on the house, sell it, buy me a house in Maine and then move up there.  Ummmmm, what is wrong with that picture?   My daughter is very upset with me.  My mother thinks I only wanted to get out to have a drink.  I could sue my sister for renting me half her house and then changing her mind after I was committed (which is discrimination).  My youngest sister is going to get two bowling balls put into a part of her body that she prefers not to think about (just kidding Mr. Policeman!) and my oldest sister does not approve but has a new dog.

Can you tell I’m not quite as numb as I was?

Thank you everyone.

Noodles

Borzoi, Poyye

Please Pick your Friends Carefully

I have always heard that “friends are people who support you and hold you up through thick and thin and that you can tell if a person is a good friend or a bad friend by these qualifications”.  This is so true.

I have had many responses to my last two posts via email because they are mostly from my “friends”.  I have had many “unknown to me” people start following my blog (not commenting whether they are following for entertainment, humor, sympathy or, in fact, have gone through the same thing themselves).

My oldest Sister, who has problems of her own, stated “I couldn’t even finish all of your postings – too off the wall”.  I’m sorry that she felt this way.  Had it been I reading the comments I would have just not read them and not let the writer know she was “off the wall” but as we all know, we are all different in our own ways.

My therapist says I am now going through Post Traumatic Stress and that my plan for this week should just be to relax.  I really am going to try.  She also gave me a hug.  The thing I most wanted in this entire world and which made me feel 100% better.  She still likes me.  She still wants to see me.  She still wants to let me talk about this to get it out of my system so that I can get over it and get back to normal.  She will listen to me (paid or not), especially before I get to the point that I was at when I finally called her.  The last time I spoke with her was 2.5 years ago when we both agreed that I was able to accept(?) the reactions of my family to me.

Based upon the reactions of my family versus the reactions of my friends, I agree.  I should stick with my friends and keep a distance from my family.  I’m sure that many of you feel this way but have learned it way, way before you were at the age of 62.  At the moment my feelings are turning to grief; as if my three sisters and mother have passed on.

I can only follow my own path.  Not theirs, not yours.  The light in me from God is leading me.  I am not alone, God is with me and I know where I am headed.  I can only listen to directions from him as to where the path is.  If I look to the right or left and see my family or some “friends” on another path I shouldn’t be sad that they are not with me and that we are not holding each other up.  I can only go on.

This has been an incredible, frightening experience.  To have your life removed from your own control and not know when you will get it back.  To have your belongings taken away and to have to follow an institution’s schedule.  To have to act happy so you can be released.  To be locked in like/as a prisoner and to have your family completely turn away.

It will be a while.

Oh My

Being in Control of One of the States of The United States

When I read through newspapers and see what horrible things that happen in the world by disturbed individuals I can understand why advocates wish to remove dangerous weapons from persons who are not trained to use them.  I can understand why people are categorized as to perhaps being dangerous.  However, I cannot understand why someone can be committed without having a trial and jury.  Especially when no harm has been done to themselves or others.  I cannot understand why by the words of others that they can be locked up for an unspecified time other than “up to 15 days and with the permission of two Doctors for more, if they deem necessary.

No one loves life, animals, compassionate people than I.  I am spiritual, intelligent,  strong and only want to be loved yet because I read the advertisement about if you are feeling out of sorts or depressed that you should call the 211 o r 800 “help” line I sunk myself into a hole..  Most people who do not really want help will not call and will go  their way and it seems that most people that do want help will call for help.

My husband and I have had numerous problems during our 42 years  of marriage, mostly involved with alcoholism and my coping with both him and my parents, who suffered from it.  We headed for the other side of the country with my daughter and were away for approximately 35 years.  About 8 years ago we moved back within 5 miles of 3 sisters and my mother so that both my husband and myself could have “family” again.  When I was away I was always jealous of my girlfriends seeing a relative or someone they had gone to school with at a store or public place and hugging and catching up with.

For the first two years things were wonderful here.  Trips with mom, bowling with two sisters, conferences with my older sister.  Then things began to change.  I’m not sure why.  Probably because I knew how it was to be dealt with as a real person and not to have someone control me or to be treated as a teenager.  Maybe they were jealous because I had gotten out of the small town attitude and could not accept the dysfunctions of the family.  I was the circle breaker and no one likes to know that someone else thinks they are doing wrong.  Perhaps because I had had many more experiences than they.

After the first two years things went drastically downhill.  Everyone thought that we had a lot of money, our house was large and although I was told to not take it personally, things were given to the other three and I was started to be ignored both physically and mentally with  Christmas alone (although my sister did ask us), no input in family decisions, and accusations of things that I certainly did not do against the family.  The distance seemed  to widen between the family, and my daughter, husband and I.  The silly thing was that this reminded me why I had run away to begin with!

However, stuck we were.  Economy led to us not being able to sell the house.  Now we have lowered it $20,000 from what we purchased it at.  We felt we needed this house and it was perfect because when we purchased it, the other houses we looked at were a mess, this was large enough to hold my antiques, I had horses and this had enough acreage for them.  It has a wonderful 1800’s barn and the house needed no work.  It is for sale now because we have no horses and we very much need to downsize and who needs to mow lawns the size of 11.5 acres.

Meanwhile, back to the alcoholism.  You may read about that episode in my last post.  I have now turned into a person who peeks out windows when sirens go by and have to answer the telephone each time it rings in case it is the Social Worker making sure I am here being safely guarded by my husband until I move to my sisters.  My therapist calls it posttraumatic stress.  And, my younger sister has decided she is not able to “care” for me since the State has declared me unsafe, my mother has decided that I am the alcoholic.  My youngest sister has not even the concern to call me except to tell me I owe money for missing bowling.  My oldest sister called to tell me she had a new dog and that I deserved all this.  My daughter, I am not talking about.

I have called my family doctor to beg him to call the state to tell them I am sane and he has said that there wasn’t much he could do but he would try.  I have visited my attorney to see if he could do anything but I guess it is a law.  All I can say is that if you just want to talk to someone DO NOT CALL 211!  Go to your mirror and have a conversation with yourself or find a friend.

This is the worst nightmare that I have ever been in, especially when my family believes what the State says over what I am saying.  Again, I have written off the family.  I’m not sure if it would be any use to go to Maine where all my friends and my favorite counselor are at.  She is my next call.

deb-sign-2.jpg

Nightmare on Powers Road

This is not a good post. In fact it has nothing much to do with the joys of life or love or spiritualism. Most faint of heart and those with feelings probably won’t want to read it. But, those that have no consciences or feelings for others will love it so go for it.
On October 5, after making final arrangements, I advised my husband that I was going to take a break from our marriage and move in with my Sister for an uncertain amount of time starting on 1st November. He cried. I love him and he loves me but he is an alcoholic and has abused me verbally for 42 years. He has just now again started to clean up his act but I need to get away. I cannot move in with my Sister until 1st November because she has to clean the house and my Sister and I have not always gotten along. However, she just lost her job so I assumed that it would help both her and I and that he would feel better because I wasn’t moving over 5 miles away and would be closer. October 5 was not a good day and I was feeling terribly guilty and depressed. When I went to bed I told my husband that I was very depressed. He, knowing that I probably didn’t want to talk to him about it, suggested that I try calling one of the 800 support lines that are listed in the telephone book.
So, coming downstairs I did call, was put on hold for 1/2 hour and then a representative talked to me and found out I was depressed. So, he called 911. He asked If I had weapons in the house and I said “no guns, knives in the drawers in the kitchen but nothing else I could think of”. He asked me to put the dogs in a separate room. Whistle, whistle, within 15 minutes two sheriff cars and a state police car pulled up and came to the driveway.
Since I had called after I had gone to bed, they asked if my husband if he would go with me while I got dressed. OK. I thought maybe they were embarrassed. The night shirt DID have a small hole on the rim.   They then put me in cuff links and took me out to the police car and put me into the back seat. They drove me to the nearest hospital and we trooped up to the reception and waited for our names to be called. Remember, this is a very small area. I pulled my sleeves down as far as I could but I was still embarrassed because it was obvious that the policeman was watching over me.
OK, into emergency. I had all sorts of tests run: vitals, EKG, blood tests. By then I asked where my husband was so they did go and get him. By that time, I had repeated what had happened many times and finally a social worker (or Doctor)  came and told me I was going to be admitted to the mental ward. I said “no”. She said I would be arrested if I ran. I said “no”. five nurses came and gave me one heck of a shot. “ouch!!!” Then off I went. Meanwhile my husband had called my daughter who told the social worker that I often threatened suicide and she was worried about me so that finalized the case.  I can only assume that she was afraid for me and wanted me to be safe because both she and my husband have attempted suicide previously.  All my belongings were taken from me and I was given a bedroom and gowns to sleep in (I think – I was pretty out of it).
On October 6 just about every hour there was a program or snack. No cell phones, pencils or anything not squishy to do myself in with. Try to cut ham with your fork and spoon. I take so many pills for my cholesterol, familial tremor, calcium and supplements that it took until two p.m. the next day to straighten them out. When I went into the bathroom someone checked on me about every 3 minutes and while sleeping, nurses did their rounds with flashlights
I must admit that I liked the nurses, the doctor and the assistants but did not like the fact that I was given no information as to how long I was to be there. I had no outdoor privileges and the air was so dry that my nose was bloody.  I was frightened and in shock and as yet, had no diagnosis.
The next day I was sentenced to another day because they didn’t feel that I was “safe” because I had not yet written a “safety plan”.  I cried through dinner and had Tina call my mother to call my attorney (who was a good friend of hers) to get me the heck out of there. There was no result. Tina called my best friend who said he would love to come out from Cal. to help but, of course, I knew his situation which made it impossible. Most of the recreation was watching TV which all my readers know I do not do although I did get to paste words onto a sheet of paper. Reading the paperwork I found that I could be forced to stay there 15 days and then the time extended if two Doctors agreed. I was petrified because of being locked in. I figured if I had wanted to commit suicide that I would have done it. If I didn’t then I would have called the 800 number so I’m very depressed and confused.
On this day we had a 9:00 meeting deciding what we were going to wear for Halloween.  Great. Two of us chose ghosts. For me it was because it was easiest. Treatment teams were to meat today and Thursday with the last names A-L today and the rest Thursday. My Social worker was going to be Jackie. Hopefully I will be fit in today so that I don’t have to wait until Thursday. I visited the book case but couldn’t seem to get into concentrating on readings. My name was called for the treatment team! hooray. Forms galore. The most important paper was the Proactive Safety Plan that we made stating that the Doctor, Patient, Social Worker and Counselor were there and that we agreed on it. A copy of this paper was sent to the County Behavioral Health. This stated that I would be working on not being depressed, worried or about boundaries being placed upon me. I wondered what anyone else in the world was worrying about. I was also to be aware if I was being pushed. Such as being pushed into an institution? Believe me, I was well aware of it already. It stated that I would play with my dogs, call or visit someone if I had problems. Where to go to take my mind off the problems? This was a hard one. At the time I thought putting in my daughter, mother, store and sisters would be best because I really thought that they could help. Debi and Ken…you are the ones I would contact during a crisis although the other night it certainly would not have done much good to contact you. I stated that I was a (F)riend and had no weapons.
Next document was Emergency Information/Safety Numbers as in the ones I had called…HAH!
On my Hospital Problem List was stated depression (hooray, they had one thing right!) and that I was to go to the Behavioral Health Network on 10/10 at 9:00. It was stated that If I did not, the state police and sheriffs office would find me. My primary support to keep me safe were my husband, my daughter and my sister Dawn and that I was to go home with my spouse/sister. It was stated that I was saying I would hang myself out of frustration but would never do it and that I could keep myself safe and that they may call to follow up. I then received my belongings and a flue shot and in shock walked out to the car with my husband.
Errand #1 on the way home was to stop at my Mother’s and tell her thank you for her understanding and for calling my attorney to help get me out of there. She said she did not call the attorney and understood that I had checked myself in because of alcoholism and that my youngest sister had told her that I had called her an alcoholic.  Later she changed this to telling me that I only wanted to get out of there because I wanted a drink.
OK. After that shock I went home and called my older sister and younger sister. seven hours later, my oldest sister has not returned the call. A few hours ago my younger sister called to tell me that she was changing her mind on her offer of me staying with her starting 11/1 because she didn’t think she could care for me.  How nice after I had told my husband which started this whole mess!
So, since that was my “safety plan” I expect the police to come at any moment. I’m really not feeling so safe right now although the more friends I tell this story to, the more friends that I get nice offers from.
Now, I’m exhausted and going to go to my own waterbed with my dogs and try to sleep!
Nite

I Love Electricity

Even though you didn’t notice that I have been missing, I have now returned.  After weeks of cleaning the house, I was so sick of it that I ran to my camp in the Adirondacks.  Unfortunately, this camp is almost totally off the grid.

To prepare myself, I loaded up my laptop, purchased a new cell phone and a Jet Pack, packed our Hot Spot and brought our two marine batteries and battery charger in case it was needed.  I emptied drawers of 1/3 shorts, 1/3 capries and 1/3 long pants with matching shirts but, of course, no jacket because it was very warm.  I stayed until day before yesterday.

It was very strange, but beautiful, up there because I was totally by myself most times.  When I got there I proceeded to hook up one of the marine batteries to the camper to run the hot water heater, furnace, and water pump.  As a short lesson to all those who have not had to hook up batteries + (positive) does not mean that it is a wonderful thing.  What it DOES mean is that you will positively get burnt if you put the – (negative) wires on that side.  – (negative) does not mean bad news.  It means that it is not hot and you must put the black wires on that side.  After hooking up the wires, going into the camper and realizing that I couldn’t start the refrigerator, I went out to check if the wires were loose and smelled burning plastic.  This was the plastic around the wires that was turning into goop.  Running into the camper, I grabbed the pot holders and switched the wires thus I know:  + (positive) means positively hot.  I then went in and started the fridge, went out and turned on the water tank and started the hot-water heater.  There are three little hoses in this and you have to remember which one to hold the lighter on because that one is the pilot.  You also have to remember how to work the dial.  After a little trial and error, it started.

Meanwhile, Karla and Sam were screaming that they had to go quick so we had our first walk.  Having been told that a huge bear had been sighted around our camper and that they had released nuisance bears up there it was a very short walk.  Back to the camper, unload the car and try to call home to say I was safe and sound.  However, since it was a cloudy day, the phone kept cutting off and I wasn’t ready to use the Jet Pack which was advertised as having your very own hot spot.  Wrong.  I did finally get the Jet Pack, which had no instructions to work with my cell and the laptop but you still had to be out of doors to use them.  Also, since there are large power lines up there the batteries of everything are sucked empty within a day so my car was continually running to recharge them because the Hot Shot didn’t want to work at all and when I tried to charge the cell with it, it just sucked the rest of the charge out of it.

Since coming home, I have been running around in heaven just turning off and on lights and have never left my land line or computer.

Of course, as we all know – I don’t cook.  However, after one month of practice I can fry eggs and toast bread on the burners of the stove and heat soup.  My sister came up, we went grocery shopping and I learned that if it is 10 for 10 you don’t have to purchase 10.  We also went to the laundry mat and after stuffing six washers we both learned that there are three different sizes of washers and it probably would have been easier to use the big ones.  AND they do not take Canadian coins.

Rich, a newly made friend in town taught me that if my cell goes completely dead that you have to use a wall plug to reset it, that even if you recharge the Hot Shot for 24 hours it still won’t work and that that horrible noise that your car makes when you are backing up and that you are petrified is the transmission or transmission joints is really the fact that you are backing up and scraping rocks while you are doing so.

Of course things started going even more south when the temperature started dropping.  I did know that if I used the furnace that it would wear out the battery within a couple of days so I got out the Mr. Heater, went into town and purchased all of the little green gas bottles at Stewarts (and by the way, I am now very proficient at filling a gas tank).  At $5.00 per bottle I found that if you light three kerosene lamps at a time, they will heat the trailer just as well.

During the days I worked a little on my historical duties, read and napped.  Oh, and tried to catch that dang frog who knew exactly how long my arm was so it could get out of reach.  I really wanted to catch it and turn it into a prince but perhaps next year…

I’m proud that I did it by myself because it was lonely, cold and, at times, pretty scary.  I could have used more support from here but regardless at the time, I had to do it for personal reasons and I think that I know that I can take care of myself now if needs be.  I don’t have to stay here if I don’t want and I found that there are certain people that I can count on to hold on to the other end of the rope if I fall.  There are those that feel that I shouldn’t have gone up there on my own but I feel that since I didn’t take unnecessary risks and no bears ate me or the dogs that things went pretty darn well.

I sure did miss the computer though!

Now, I feel a craving to go turn on and off some lights and the furnace!

Oh!  And one more thing….you can do it, too.

MyDesk

PACKING

What are you doing?
Packing.
Why? When you aren’t moving?
I have to get ready to move. Besides, a house sells easier when it is empty because the people can see the house.
But if you put your stuff in the barn, then they can’t see the barn and what are you going to do if you want to use something that is packed away?
I’ll worry about it then.
Where are you going?
I don’t know yet.
I think you are doing it backwards. You always do things backwards. Why are you moving?
I love this house but it is too big to keep clean. I want to force myself to sell my collections by moving into a smaller house. I don’t need a barn or 11 1/2 acres or a house of 3500 sq feet. There is only two of us and my husband doesn’t take care of himself so I expect he will die soon.
What a terrible thing to say! But, I suppose it is good to be prepared. All your collections? Good grief! Why did you buy them then?
Because I was trying to buy happiness. I did get happiness for a few minutes but now we don’t have money because of it.
You are so cheerful today! You know how real estate is now. You will lose a fortune selling now.
I’ll feel lucky if I sell it. I suppose we could just walk away but then where would I live? As it is – we are buying down (I hope) and will have a down payment.
What about your dogs?
Well, I won’t pack them into the barn of course!
I mean your dog figurine collection!
Packing.
Your enamel cream and green and the utensils that match and the Glenwood Stove that goes with them?
Packing.
What about your white ironstone?
Packing.
Your mirrors and crystals?
Packing.
Your shells?
Packing.
Your capo-de-monte?
Packing.
Your fox-hunting items?
Packing.
Your books?
Packing.
Your flower pictures?
Packing.
There will only be furniture left. Are you sorting through the furniture?
Yep. Some, I’m packing.
Your jade flowers?
Packing.
Your antique maps?
Packing.
Your crockery?
Packing.
Are you trying to hide your life in the barn?
Might as well. No one knows I’m here anyway except my daughter.
Well, your husband certainly knows you are here!
Not necessarily but we won’t go into that.
Are you going to pack yourself into the barn?
Nah. Then who would I talk to? Besides, I have a reunion to go to on the 19th and someone has to take care of the dogs.
Oh. Well you missed a shelf of dogs up there.
Yes, better get back to work. After packing comes the cleaning. I do so hate cleaning because of my allergies.
True. I think everyone except your older sister hates cleaning.
Yes. She is in Alaska now cleaning for her daughter.
Well, it’s been nice.
Yes.