Life Sucks and Then You Don’t Blog

This will be my last blog.  Sorry folks, no more entertainment.  As my Mother kindly said before I left, my writing means more to me than my family.  As my sisters so kindly say – all I do is lie anyway.

They should be pleased to know that I wake up with a sick feeling in my stomach and about noon I cry myself to sleep and then go to bed early.  All their wishes have been fulfilled.  I’m out of town, they will get all Mom’s riches and a pat on the back to them.  Happy, happy, there is no way that I could come back now even if I could.

NO ONE has asked for my address in my family including my daughter with the exception of my husband, I suppose hoping that I will fade from memory.  And all this because of a call to a helpline that had a trainee working on it.

Airing dirty laundry?  You guys deserved it and I didn’t even say a name or a place.  Obviously, blogs are not for the faint of heart.  If we are going to talk about hate and lies then think about what you are saying about me.  Everything I have said I will say again if asked.

Thank you all for listening to my woes.  You can rename me to a name in the Lemony Snikett series.

It was a long, long drive from New York to Maine stopping at almost every rest stop to take a break but we finally got here, did a few circles, found the house, threw down the futons, grabbed a bedspread and crashed.  I didn’t even bother with finding the box with my PJs in it.

The next morning we didn’t want to go through the entire truck so we decided to find a place with a cup of coffee.  Who cares if we didn’t brush our teeth?  Although I thought I knew where the house was we still had to make a few circles to get to the main street.  We skipped the cafes and went up the street to get a cup of coffee and dog food, and up the street, and up the street, and up the street.  Finally finding a little gas mart we got what we needed and came back and circled and circled and circled until we found the house.  I think there must be something the matter with the map that I have.

Right on schedule the unloading crew came.  A very nice pair of young men.  One had a baby that I offered to buy but was turned down.  It only took a few hours to fill up the house will maybe a few to many things and off they went to another job.  You have to give these guys credit because you know that their backs are going to be way bad when they get older.  After that, the computer  hook up people were here and got that taken care of.

Then came the “finding out which room things go into” game and after we were exhausted we decided to get some groceries.  Oops, too late, everything was closed so it was tuna sandwiches and potato chips.  Nothing wrong with that.  Since the bed was up, at least we didn’t have to sleep on the floor.  The only problem was that the mattress was a spring mattress and with two people and four dogs in a strange house it was …… well……. strange.

Monday morning my hubby decided to crack the whip and we really unpacked some boxes, moving the ones for sale to the cellar.  In the evening we decided that we were hungry.  Surprise!  So, circling around several times to find the main road we remembered that restaurants are closed here on Monday.  After another half hour of circling around to find the house we found something to eat and crashed again.

The next morning hubby had to return the truck and then I had to take him to the car rental to pick up a car.  After circling around to find the main road we got lost going to both places but finally he was off.  I realized that I forgot my purse to went directly home.  Was I tired or what?  I then hit the sack.

This morning, after listing all the things I found wrong with the house, the owner (?) came over and is still working on them.   He is another nice person and works hard.  Meanwhile I am unpacking and wondering why the heck I brought so much stuff.  Since there are no curtains on the bedroom windows and the room is small the dogs are mesmerized by all the people walking their dogs by the window.  I have a feeling there is a little curiosity in the neighbors about this person that circles their neighborhood once or twice a day!

So, more unpacking while I wait for him to finish so that I can finally get some groceries!  Again, thank you to my hubby for all the help he gave me.  Had it not been for him and my friend here in Maine I would have had no help at all.

Now…to take care of the dead battery on my car (I still have no groceries) by pulling the name of a garage out of a hat!

WoodDudeYanceyDonnaRichardsonDanPhelpsDawnYanceyDeleneDebraMundyLavadaYanceyDonald

Blog

After being blasted by two persons today for having a Blog and making all the family secrets public, I decided to do some researching on just who does read this blog and just how famous I am.

I started with Google.Com.  My name, as it is legally spelled is a very common name.  After the fourth page of searching for myself I gave up.  My name, as it is spelled on Facebook is a bit more unusual.  After looking at all of those, I found that none of them were me.

I no longer have a business but my old business in Maine was flourishing!  The new one here was not mentioned.  So, there we have removed all search engine connections, including any for this blog address.

So, I looked a bit closer.  Although I am on Twitter, Pinterest and Google, this blog does not show on them but it does show on Facebook.  However, it only is available to my “friends” so I therefor went through the list of my friends.  I had around 275, mostly people who were owners of the breed of dog that I love or people that I felt were close.

Because of the fact that my family is so upset about my posts becoming “the talk of the town”, I removed all other people that lived in this vicinity and all of my family.  This way it proves that I was and am “the talk of the town” because people have signed up for my blog and are distributing the information.  My family?  Local people that I thought were friends?  These are all people who have signed up to get notifications of when I write a new blog.  If you don’t wish to hear my words, please remove yourself from the mailing list.  If  you do wish to hear what I have to say so that you can tell my Mother how untruthful it is.  Fine.  Remain on my mailing list.  And again, if you are upset about what I say then think before you do things to me to hurt me because I will tell about it.

This blog is for me.  It relieves pressure and makes me feel better.  My life right now is not going very well and unfortunately, all I have to talk to is a computer.  I do have friends on facebook obviously (and not so friends on facebook) but I need to emphasize that it is not to hurt people.  No personal names have been mentioned.  If neighbors of my family know who the “youngest sister” or whatever is, it is because the “youngest sister” or whatever gave them this address to read the blog on.

I would like to say goodbye to my family.  Since they are the ones that seem to be reading this blog then I will say it here “publicly” because you will not give me an opportunity to speak with you personally, nor do I wish to at this moment.  You should be happy.  You won’t have to see me anymore nor will you be hearing anything that I have said personally to one of my sisters.  If I have hurt you, I’m sorry.  However, you WERE there when things happened.  Because you choose not to remember them because it hurts YOU is no excuse.  I honestly did try to make it work and even though you say everything I say is a lie, I have told the truth.

It is true that I disturbed the family unit by remembering things.  However, if I remember correctly I have not been the only person to do this.

For those of you who do not know what a blog is I’ve attached a definition.

A blog (a truncation of the expression weblog)[1] is a discussion or informational site published on the World Wide Web and consisting of discrete entries (“posts”) typically displayed in reverse chronological order (the most recent post appears first).

PACKING BUT LACKING

I’m figuring if I do one more room per day that I will finish packing by the time Paul gets the truck here.  Then, we fill the truck and drive to Maine.  The next day Paul will drive back with the truck.  Expensive move at $1.00 per mile and I do hope that I can find the house again.

I’ve switched all my medical people back to who they were eight years ago and amazingly enough, even my M.D. receptionist was the same.  She said “Debbie”?  and I said “Rose”?  and we both laughed.  Even though it will be a bit more of a drive now, I will be so glad to see familiar faces.

I had an intensive week of doctors, dentists, therapists, etc. and am very reassured that I am currently healthy (even mentally).  All said that it was probably a trainee on the help line.  What happened at the hospital was beyond them but I am beginning to put the pieces together.

My daughter and I have reconciled.  We are very close and I believe we were both having meltdowns from the trauma.  This whole episode will take a while to get over and some of it may never be resolved.  However, I did go shopping and get some things that I wanted and needed for myself, the dogs and the house so I feel a bit more comfortable and I am not so afraid of sirens now.

My husband and I have talked and although he wishes it was not so, he has admitted that I do need this.  Because of the circumstances, I need to get away and where else would I go?  Besides, I have wanted sea food for so long now!  The only thing I couldn’t find was a lobster pan but I know exactly where to get one in Maine.

I suppose this has been a learning experience.  Remember, when you are handcuffed you do not slip your hand out and say neener neener under any circumstances and if you see three police cars drive up to your house I suppose you should run even if you haven’t done anything.

The difficult part is the packing.  Always before I’ve just packed everything in the room.  Now I look and thing “will I need this within a year?” as that will be the minimum time I will be there.  If the house sells, I will take it from there.

I do not recommend that you do anything in this blog at home.  Nor, should you ever take me seriously even though the tears are running down my face.  Please always assume I am joking, especially about the love that is not being enclosed in my boxes.

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!

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.

Patio
Aside

Cats, Kittens, Dogs, Love

Well, Mama cat moved her kittens and I have to say I’m a wee bit disappointed because I REALLY liked the grey and black one with black ears but I have to say that I can’t imagine why she put them where she did in the first place.  To back track for those of you not on Face Book (is there anyone not on Face Book?) we have a screened in, very large porch on the back of our house.  The dog yard is at right angles to the porch and three or four days ago the dogs started going ballistic.  As usual, when they start going ballistic, I go out and check to see if it is a chipmunk sitting up sticking out its tongue at them or a rabbit leaning on the chain link or a cat walking through the field or a loose dog of the neighbors that I should take home.  This time they were going ballistic at the gas tank.

I don’t worry about my dogs but thought it might be a poisonous toad or snake or that one of them had their foot caught somewhere or maybe a rat or something was attacking them so I rushed out through their side door, squeezed through their porch railing hole and ran down their ramp to them.  They were telling me that it was something horrible but I couldn’t see one darn thing.  Because I don’t worry about them I made them come into the house and shut the door just in case.

Then I went out to the back porch which has very long steps down to the ground because we are on a hill and stood at the top of the steps and looked over them and there……there was a Mama feral cat (guaranteed because I knew her and I can’t get close to her), black and white with three little kittens.  The other two were black and white.  I also know the father who is a beautiful solid grey color.

Immediately, I didn’t start worrying about them.  It was a pretty silly place to have kittens – not really protected, about 1.5 feet from the dog chain link fence and only protected from the rain if it came from the North.  I quickly ran and got my hubby and he looked at me and said “leave them alone”.  So, because I don’t worry I called a “no kill shelter” who said “leave them alone because they need their mother’s milk right now and she will take care of them”.  So, very disappointed, I left them alone.  At lunch I took out my turkey sandwich which was loaded with turkey and leaned over and darned if the turkey didn’t slip out.  Oh well, since I had to leave them alone I just left the turkey there.

The next morning I had the rest of the turkey from the package in my sandwich (I was really hungry) and darned if that didn’t slip out also!  Mama and babies were still there.  Actually, I met her eyes and she looked at me pretty calmly.  For the second day the dogs weren’t allowed outside (and I wonder why they aren’t housetrained!).  The third day Paul bar-b-qued chicken and I am such a klutz I dropped a huge hunk of it.  Please note that all traces of turkey had disappeared and Mama was still there was babies. 

That evening we had a huge thunder storm from the south.  I wanted to go out and get them or cover them or something but felt it really was best for Mama to figure out that that was not a good place and to take them into the barn whose door I had forgotten to close.  This morning they were gone.  After daydreaming and dropping my tuna sandwich I decided that I would go out tomorrow and look for them.  Not aggressively but just go out and look around.  Not that I want a kitten but the were SO cute.  Strangely enough my hubby told me that he knew they were gone.  He gave me one of those parental stares but didn’t say anything about turkey or tuna fish or chicken.  I miss them but the dogs are sure glad to be outside.  Now the only problem I had was having to go out because Karla was petrified of a toad (which is good) and wouldn’t stop barking so I had to do the door, rail hole ramp thing again and pick up that awful-feeling pitch black thing and throw it over the fence.  I have to look up toads to see if they change colors like lizards according to where they are because I found a grey one on the cement in the basement.

Aside from two catastrophes of health of two dear friends, all else is fine.  I have decided that it is not fun to get old.  I still can’t walk and have to solve that problem.  I have also decided that it is up to us to find out what is wrong with us and to decide which medicines are good for us and inform our doctors because they don’t have a clue.  They don’t know how we feel and can only guess and now that we have the internet we can at least look things up for ourselves.  If we are lazy and rely totally on our doctors then it is our fault if we don’t know the problem.   Unfortunately, some problems cannot be solved but at least if we know what it is then we can wrap our minds around it and make the right decisions on what to do or not do.

I want to say that I do so appreciate all of you listening to me rant on about stuff.  It is so much less expensive than paying for a therapist.  I do wish you could write prescriptions though!!!

Hope you and yours are well.