The Worst Full Moon

Well.  I do indeed have tea, and tonight, it's chamomille.  This past week has been like something out of a nightmare, and the hell of it is, I don't know whether to be glad the week is over, or to try and hang on to today for as long as it will last.  Today, everyone is still living, no one is in jail as an accomplice to murder except some dude I don't know, and he's in jail for attempted murder.  But I put the cart before the horse.  Let's start at the beginning.

Last Saturday, there was a huge boom outside.  I heard my daughter say, "It's Brandon!" and so I flew to the door, and sure enough, my nephew's car had been knocked on top of the phone box, and the car that hit him was resting in a nicely plowed new furrow in my front yard.  Thankfully, there were no injuries, except the cars and some feelings, and my landline.

Sunday night, three nights before the moon was truly full, that same nephew (who had lost his mother to cancer only a week before), went to the aid of my other nephew's girlfriend because he was beating her.  Nephew 1, Brandon, ended up beating the crap out of Aaron, nephew 2.

And when Aaron's mother found out about it, she did what she normally does.  She took to facebook and waged war.  The things she typed to Brandon for e v e r y one to see were truly horrid, unthinkable, and so awful that you felt the punch in your own gut.

I kept out of it publicly, talking to Brandon and Aaron in private to try to make them see sense and to let them know they are loved, and how family counts,  until she began, as she always does, talking smack about the family who have not taken her to the methadone clinic for her doses.  We did that for a while.  Almost a year, until either the vehicles went down or someone was sick or we had to be out of town, and she talked so much trash about us to people who believed her that we distanced ourselves from her.  We had to.  She is one of the most toxic people I've ever met.  But she is my sister, and for that reason, I love her.  Plus, I can remember a time she was not quite so volatile and manipulative.

I couldn't take her to the clinic myself, but made arrangements with my daughter to see that she made it there to get her daily dose.  Little did I know, she is also taking pills along with her methadone.

And then sis started really spiralling to the point I considered having her committed for her own safety, if not everyone else's. And then I thought - Waitaminute.  She has a husband! So i called her long-distance spouse and expressed my concerns about the broken pictures, the trashed house, the claw marks she had left on Aaron's upper body.  Well, he said, I might be home this weekend. I'll figure something out.

Oh happy day!  He might come home to check on his wife.

And then he talked to her on the phone and told her everything I said.  I would have said it to her myself, but she is not a person you can reason with, or talk to, because she truly doesn't see anything wrong with her behavior and manages to twist it to make YOU look like the bad guy, and then of course, she runs to Facebook - just what someone like her needs, a stage and an audience - and raked me over hell's coals.  And then the husband did the same thing, only in private message.  Yes, she twisted circumstances in her own favor, and as always, he took the easy way out and believed her.  All I wanted was to get some help for the woman.

IN THE MEANTIME - sister's daughter called her boyfriend to come fight her husband (niece's husband) because he pulled her drunk ass out of a car so she wouldn't drive.  She pepper sprayed her husband and the friend riding with her began beating him.  He defended himself.  And shortly after that, when nothing else was going on, the boyfriend comes, breaks a window, takes a broken rake handle and stabs the husband through the liver.  He likely will not live.  And the niece will likely be charged as an accomplice to murder if he dies.

FOLLOWING THAT, daughter's car wouldn't start.  She couldn't take sister to get her dose.  Sister once again waged war...

That's more than enough for the picture, is it not?  And you're probably thinking - wow, with those kids, sister probably has good reason to be on drugs.  But the fact is, she has been, for some time, an addict.  And the things she has said to her children rival the remarks she made to the nephew about him and his dead mother.

I have reached a terrible point where I can no longer feel compassion for her.  She throws temper tantrums that would put a two-year-old to shame, manipulates people until they are tied in knots, and maligns and slanders us all at the first hint of noncompliance to her wishes.  I don't wish her any harm, but I cannot deal with her.  Not will not - CANNOT.  The best I can do is try to pull together the remnants of my shredded family and have some kind of relationship with them, but not at the expense of the stress that comes with some of them, always.

Maybe that's selfish, but it is what it is.

::raising my teacup::  Here's to a more peaceful weekend.

The picture above is my little Sadie.  As you can see, she was born to shop, and she loves it.  When she was a tiny baby, she didn't love grandma - not one bit.  She had a way of looking at me that let me know I had just been stabbed and shot with her eyes.  She got over it, though, and now she seems to love ol' Mom (she calls all women Mom), Mom's makeup, jewelry and moisturizer, so much so that I had to buy her a container of her very own.  She's all girl, alright.  That is, until all the boys are around, and then she is rough and tumble.

My son has three children, Mason (8), Robert (4) and that little girl in the picture above (2),  who adore and protect each other.   I mistakenly chose to sit in front of Mason's (he's the oldest brother) drink cup.  Sadie marched up to me, hands on hips and gave me those killing eyes and said No!  That's Mason's!  I had to move before she got really upset!  Then, at the pool, a lady engaged little Robert in some play and conversation...big brother stood up, looked at her and said, Can I HELP you? He has obviously been schooled in stranger danger and was having none of that.  And Robert...he comes to me and says, Sadie is hungry.  Thirsty, too.  It amazes me, how close they are, and I hope they always will be.

My daugher's children...little Steven is 7 and a bit of a loner, but adores his older brother, Joshua.  Josh graduated high school this year.  We took him out to dinner later that evening, and when Josh made his entrance, Steven jumped up and screamed - I saved you a seat, right here beside me! Josh is the gamer, and Steven is the chef.  Just tonight, he made a Starburst candy sandwich and submitted it to his Mom, the judge.  She gave him a 10 for creativity.  Not sure how the rest went :-)

Love these children.  For the last year or so, they have spent a lot of time at my house. When they are over, the house and routine are in a jubilant state of disorganization, and when they leave, it feels so quiet and empty.  For about 10 minutes, it does, and then the peace and quiet are like an old friend for an old lady..comforting.

I had wanted one more child, in the earlier years of my marriage, but it wasn't to be.  But these guys more than make up for it.

There are few things in this life that will lift your spirits like..hmm.  A new love.  A new baby.  A new car when you have been driving a clunker that has clunked its last mile and you know it.  And there is little in life that brings you joy as much as hearing from an old friend.

Mary, welcome back to the world of blogging.  Whatever has transpired between our last interaction and now, you have been so kind to me, and to many others, I'm sure.  You have been missed.  You have been remembered fondly, and you have my friendship and support any time you need it.

I'm doing fine these days.  Not blogging like we all used to, and I miss that part of my life - the sharing, friendships borne of of that sharing, and the writing!  Once upon a time, not a day went by that I didn't write, but life has a way of turning attention elsewhere.

Unbelievable things have happened in the past four years.  Jail, hospital stays (the children, not me), and new grandbabies.  Robert and Sadie Grace arrived on the scene 4 and 2 years ago, respectively, and they breathed new life into an old lady.  I love all my children and grandchildren.  I'm glad the (jail) problems resolved favorably, glad the hospital stays have been benign, and I am joyously, delirously happy with ALL of my grandkids.

Today, I'm thankful for so much.  It's nice to be happy :-)

Oh My...

I have been out of work with a doc's note since week before last.  It started as a cold and escalated into "God help me, I can't breathe," so off I went to see Fabian (doctor) for prednisone injection, breathing treatment and a boat load of medications.  Typical fare for a lot of people this time of the year.

He decided to do a chest x-ray, and I hung around until the results came back to see if it was pneumonia, which it wasn't.  However, there was a spot on the x-ray.  He said, "do you see it?"  Of course, I did.  and he said, "Well, you just could have a bad, bad case of bronchitis, but then, there's this." He pointed to the spot.  "We'll wait for the radiologist's report before we go any further, but you might have to have a CT scan."

Well, at 9:00 the next morning, his office called.  They had already set up an appointment for the CT  and a follow-up office visit to coincide with my completion of treatment for bronchitis.

Am I scared?  Terrified.  Am I hopeful?  Yes.  Am I praying?  Definitely, and looking back over my life at all the things I've done that were not my finest moments, and wondering if I'll ever have the chance to be the woman I want to be.

I hope I do.

It's been two years already?

Good Morning, Blog, it has been a while..please forgive me for that, for abandoning, old friend, while life churned and tumbled.  This morning while all was quiet, I felt the urge to seek you out for one of our old talks/purges/a chronical of a bland little life.  That's a good, thing, isn't it?..because this is the first time in two years I've actually felt the urge to write anything except silly status updates on Facebook.

These last few weeks have been crazy.  And right now - since my quiet time has been broken by someone turning on that blasted television - I am considering earplugs.  My quiet little moment has been interrupted again.

Sometimes, it feels like the top of my head will open and I will erupt like a volcano.  There is no peace and quiet, no alone time, no thinking time, since my daughter and her family moved in.  She's unemployed, now, so there's no chance of their finding a place of their own for a very long time.  And while I truly, really, truly want to offer them a place to stay, they're driving me insane.  HE doesn't work and has not in two years.  Come ON!  At least get out there and try to find work. And if they can't move out, maybe they could pay half the light bill, or the water bill, or something - as was agreed upon when they moved in.

And my husband?  He is a lump on the sofa I can't quite smooth out.  Maybe HE could help pay on the utilities.  Or weedeat the yard.  Or turn off the television.

I have a basement.  It's in a state of disrepair right now.  The ceiling tiles need replacing, the walls need washing down and the floors need mopping, but I haven't been able to do that, physically.  Perhaps, though, I could get a ladder down there, pack up all the stuff that's been mildewing and haul it out. replace the ceiling tiles and haul a desk, a sofa, a table, a coffee pot and whatever else I might require and move myself to some place I can hear myself think.

I'm sorry to spout off like this.  And it's not that my life is so bad, but between work - oh, work.  Let me continue my rant/purge.  I was alone this week. Supervisor took off, the transfer coordinator was gone...there were only two of us in our department by Friday.  If it could go wrong, it did.  And also, by Friday, one of our "residents" returned from court with additional time and a release date of 10/29.
I've got nothing to hold him on because the S.O. sent him back without a judgment and commitment.  I spent most of Friday trying to get some documentation and only succeeded in getting a Do Not Release placed on him, and then the head of the auditors called and repeated we have nothing to hold him on.

!?!?!

Well, what am I supposed to do?  I'm not about to release him into the public when he has an additional sentence to serve.  If he goes out into the public and commits a crime, DAC will hang me from the nearest flagpole.  Scapegoat.

I was so sick to my stomach from the week that, when 3:00 rolled around on Friday, I couldn't stay another minute.  I FLED.  I went over the fence, so-to-speak.  I wrote my boss a note, attached emails and phone calls and messages to her computer screen so she can see it on Monday morning - let HER take care of it.  I am the office assistant.  They don't pay me enough to have my stomach tied in knots.

All that said - I know I'm lucky to have a job, a family, a place to stay.  But sometimes, it all gets a little much.

And tomorrow, it's to the dentist for lots of oral surgery.  I plan to be out of commission for at least four days, and if Im lucky, the doc will give me plenty of pain pills.  A little fog would be good, right about now.

Monday Night

It's late, but here I sit, sipping a cup of coffee. Full strength. And it's good. The last few days have been very nice...no big problems. Even work is swimming along. My horoscope (smiles) actually told me that the ship is finally coming in after a long period of rocky weather, and that I should get used to stability, for a change. Hey, it was the best horoscope I've ever read, and although I truly don't put any stock in those, it's one that I want to believe. SO - I will.

Saturday was my birthday, and to celebrate, I got out of the house. I did. The plan was to stay out for the entire day, and that's almost exactly what happened. There's a whole big world outside of these walls! I had almost forgotten...we went to some yard sales, to the habitat store where we found a lovely fall painting that was 75% off. Soon, it will hang in the living room. We found books for the smallest grandchildren. We went to a health fair where my daughter and I both won door prizes, socialized a little bit and had a great time. And...as a treat for having been so good, we had tiramisu after dinner. Not too much! Just enough to appreciate decadence and the feeling of indulgence it brings. We all need that, once in a while.
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On a somber note, I found out Bert passed away this past summer. She was a pistol, a wonderful lady who had a big heart. Godspeed, Ladybug. It was a privilege to have met you in this locationless space.

Holy Cow, the chandalier is shaking! Pardon me while I ramble. I don't talk much during the week.

Ft. Bragg is apparently bombing in my back yard this morning - there just came a boom that made me duck, and also made me rethink the chandalier. If they continue to have exercises like this, I'm taking it down, lest it crashes on my head.

Good Saturday, Journal. I am behind in my housework, down to clothes I can't wear in the closet, and hiding in doorways, lest all the bombing should bring down the ceiling. The good news is, the dishes are soaking, the washer is agitating the dirt out of my laundry, and it isn't cloudy out, so the war games across the railroad track shouldn't shake the pictures off the wall. I just hope the participants don't shoot a shell the wrong way.

I met with a nutritionist yesterday. She says all I need to do is balance the carbs a little bit more. All this health is killing me - ophthalmology on Monday, mammogram on Friday, but you know what...it's worth it. My glucose is at least in a safe range, now, and I have lost ten pounds since August. It is amazing what simple changes have wrought. Exercise is the hardest, though. I can't seem to make myself do what needs to be done. A friend from work has generously agreed to walk with me during lunch. We don't get far (my fault), but my muscles are cursing me and my back is threatening to go on strike. Getting older is definitely not for the faint of heart, but it sure beats the alternative.

I am trying to be more upbeat. The last thing people want to do is hang out with Sad Sally.

We have a new clinical social worker at work, and there is something about her that makes me smile. She seems so serene, but at the same time, you can tell her wicked sense of humor is just below the surface. I like it! and can't wait to get to know her better. First impressions can be misleading, but...I think this one could be a lot of fun.

For some reason, I have always been drawn to the CSW's. First, there was Libby, whose eyes are solemn and wise, like an old country woman. Full of spit and vinegar, she was - and is. She retired several years ago. I admire her for so many reasons - her soft heart, her toughness, her willingness to unabashedly advocate for her clients. No, that wasn't willingness. That was just her nature. And everyone was her client, not just those on the roster. Libby is a force to be reckoned with, and a natural giver. Retirement has been no vacation for her. She continues to give, and volunteers at the Coalition, which provides for people in need.

Anyway...I don't think we're ever too old for role models. Now that I have time hanging from hands that were once so full...well. Now they're too empty. I'm thinking it's time to fill them again. Maybe Libby needs help at the Coalition, or perhaps I can find another organization that could use an extra hand.