Oh, Look at the Time!

As in, it's been a long time since I posted. I've been either busy, depressed, or hiding.

Tonight I had lots of beer. I drank all 5 of the remaining beers in the refrigerator.

We bought another refrigerator. It's a used one, only 10.5 sq ft. It sits in our bedroom. The original purpose of this refrigerator is to keep our beer safe from predation by the other residents of this household. Yes, someone (or more than one someone) has been swiping our beer. What cads! So I got a used 'fridge so we can keep our stuff secure behind the locked door of our bedroom..

There are too many people in this house. Twitch has an alternative situation that might (I hope!!) come to be. A friend of his has a place in Charleston SC and is looking for a third roommate. Twitch has already applied for jobs in that area online. I really hope he can move to Charleston.

The kidlets have been much easier to deal with this summer than in previous years. And actually Diva is sometimes pleasant! Can you believe it? Sproing is a pain in the ass, but I'm not letting it get to me much. Here's the thing: I went away for three weeks (you remember my trip to New England, right?) The separation helped the relationship between me and the kids. While I was away, Superman kinda let loose of the reigns a bit. He's not as strict as I am anyway. So when I came back it was easier to keep the looseness than to impose more restrictions. And I've loosened up on my give-a-shit. So they do whatever and I don't care.

Of course that's not entirely true. I keep tabs on them, and give some direction. But since I've loosened up they seem to be more willing to do what I ask of them. Most of the time. Diva more than Sproing (OMG!!) because he's a pain in the ass.

I've been on edge today. Why? I dunno. Had my period last week, so it isn't premenstrual shit. Maybe it's that my home is stressful. Could be, eh? OMG, the week before my period was hell. I was so cranky, and realized it was hormonal. Poor Superman. I tried to stay out of the way of the kids as much as possible. I recognize when I'm unreasonable.

Hey, lets see what this dog of ours looks like.

 His name is Oreo. I don't like that name, particularly, but that's what Sproing likes. It was what he was called as a puppy, when we got him. It's a name, so whatever. As often as not I call him "pup."

 He's more or less adorable. And bigger now than he is in these pics. He's nearly 6 months old now. He had his balls chopped off earlier this week, and starts obedience class later today. He's pretty smart, and very puppy-like. Weighed 45 lbs on Wednesday when he had his surgery. He's got a lot of Labrador in him, and some pit bull, according to the kid who gave him to Sproing.

Oh look! It's Superman! I like this picture. He's a cutie. I don't notice it when I look at him, but in these pictures he looks older than I perceive him to be. 

 And check out our produce! While I was on my trip this pair of squash was harvested from our garden. I had to get a picture of it to share with you, since it looks so much like a scrotum. I mean, am I right?

How fun is this? We didn't eat it. They picked it when I was away, and by the time I got home it was far from fresh. Oh well.

So, let's talk briefly about this garden thing. We planted green beans, squash, zucchini, and tomatoes. Here's the thing: I don't like squash or zucchini. Besides which, the zucchini plant died from some kind of bug infestation. We've eaten some of the green beans, though I've thrown out more than we've eaten.  I've also used some of the tomatoes. There are green ones on the vine which I'll harvest at the proper time.

So we planted this garden with things I don't like. WTF? I dunno. And Superman is too busy with work and stuff around the house to cook up any of this stuff.

I'm quite tipsy. I've been depressed most of the day, and decided I'd do the beer thing tonight while watching Braves baseball. Didn't have the first beer until the 8th inning, when we were leading the Cardinals 4-1. That was the final score, btw. After the game I continued with the beer. I'm dizzy and feeling smooth, but the headache is there, too.

So. Depression. Superman went to Georgia today to visit his family. Good for him. I'm glad he gets to do that. I hate that he's away, though. Sometimes he takes one of the boys (Diva isn't welcome in his parents' house after beating me up a couple of years ago) but this time he went by himself. So everyone else is home. They all drive me crazy. Wait. This paragraph was supposed to be about depression. OK, so I has it, the depression thing. I hate summer. Maybe things will be better when the kids get back in school. Their first day is Aug. 20th. Less than a month away! I need me time with none of these pariahs at home.

Let's talk about parenting. I've given up, sort of. Diva and Sproing are 15.5 years old now. They are responsible for their own behavior. They do what they want. I leave them alone. That's not entirely true, of course. I just try to keep things together with the minimum effort. I can't do any more than that. They've broken me. I just don't give the kind of shit that I used to.

It's officially Saturday. It's my brother's birthday today. He's 49. Hee hee hee. I can't wait to tease him next year. I'm two years older than he is, so anything I say he's already said to me. That's not why I started talking about Saturday, though. I haven't even opened my computer since sometime last weekend. All week I've been either watching TV (which I rarely do) or reading from my Kindle. I've read I don't know how many gay romance novels/stories. I read a straight romance today. It was weird. The two main guy characters fell in love with women. WTF is up with that? It's time for another gay story, or else something of high quality. I have a collection of E. M. Forster works on the Kindle.  The novel I read today was not well written, so I need something of quality to wash out my brain.

I have another book, a paperback, that I started earlier in the week. It's entitled The Hoarding Handbook. It's written for social service providers who deal with hoarders. It isn't specifically for mental health professionals, rather it is written by mental health professionals for others who deal with hoarders. I have read the first three chapters. It's good, I guess, but hard to read because I see myself in it. I got it so I might be able to help myself a bit with getting rid of the crap I've hoarded. It's a slow process, especially since I keep distracting myself.

OK, I'm going to quit this rambling and get ready for bed. It's high time I went to sleep.

It's primarily bad children, though

So much has happened in the 23 hours since my last post. Holy shit.

Currently listening to this.

Except of course I don't feel fine. Half way through a bottle of Martini Asti sparkling wine (cheap shit, my favorite!) and am feeling better in some respects. 

But seriously, what the fuck can I do with these trolls? Let me see if I can catch you guys up on all the unfortunate drama. 

Superman got home last evening around 8, maybe? Not sure. I'd closed my eyes to rest but wasn't fully asleep. Neither of the trolls was home, which is good and bad. They weren't actively annoying me, but I didn't know where they were and was concerned about their welfare. Go figure. Also pissed at them. Sproing is grounded, dammit, but he's gone. Diva is just a wild bitch and I don't trust her.

So Superman decided it was time to call the police to report them missing or runaways. They found Diva in Abbeville staying with her boyfriend. I am vaguely aware she has someone she calls a boyfriend, but I don't know who this kid is. Her dad and I specifically told her Friday night that she could NOT go to Abbeville. We both tried to call her but her phone went directly to voice mail and she didn't return any calls. So anyway, the police found her, went to the home where she was staying and took her to the Abbeville police department. That pissed her off, believe me! Embarrassed her in front of her boyfriend and his uncle. hee hee. Serves her right. We had to drive to Abbeville to bring her home. At midnight. After Superman hadn't had any significant sleep for approximately 40 hours. He felt like shit. I drove.

Sproing came home while we were out retrieving his sister. We called the police officer who was managing this fiasco to let him know everyone was home now. He came over and gave a nice little lecture to the kids. It did no good, of course. They can ignore grownups with alacrity. I added my two cents because my two cents is worth a lot more and they should listen to the wisdom of their mother. Dammit, their mother is fuckin' wise! They are missing out on a good thing here, right Light? I know useful shit, don't I?

But I digress. Cut to today. Sproing got up this morning and his dad gave him some tasks to do. Sproing talked back to his dad, made some snarky comment, and Superman smacked him upside the head. Sproing spouted off disrespectfully again, so Superman smacked him again and knocked him over. Sproing then got up and did what his dad told him to do, thank you sir.

I made a detailed list of things for Diva to do in the kitchen. By 2:00 I still hadn't seen her so I sent Dad to check. She was still in her piss soaked bed. Godallmighty it stinks in there! I'm not sure what Superman told her to do, but she didn't like it so she called the case manager to complain that her parents are unfit. Or something. I am not sure. Then I think she threatened to call the police, to which Superman replied "go ahead." And she did. Two young men from the city police department came out to interview Diva and Superman, separately. Superman told them exactly what happened. Yes, he smack the kid twice, and the kid fell down the second time. The kid got smacked for being disrespectful. OK, fine. The other officer talked to Diva. Don't know what she told him. Then both of the officers spoke to our next door neighbor. I have no idea what that was about. Superman told me what had transpired, and I decided I needed to talk to the officers myself.

Well, I went through the living room and there was Diva. I asked her something, can't now remember what. What do you think you're doing? maybe? Anyway, she got all sassy with me. I told her no, she is my child and she does what I want. She said that she told the officers that her daddy had threatened to hit her. I asked her if she told them that she had assaulted me? Oh, they don't need to know that. Pissed me off. So I went out to speak to the officers. Superman and Diva joined me.

(Update: All 750 ml of sparkling wine is now on the inside of me.)

We had a little powwow. I told the officers that Diva has a bad attitude. I explained what happened earlier in the weekend - Friday night through Saturday night, with her running away and the police getting involved. She said she doesn't want to stay here. I said I don't want her here, either, but it is our responsibility to make sure she is properly cared for. Oh, get this, she told the officers that she feels stressed being here. HA!!! What a hoot! I feel stressed too, bitch. Put on your big girl panties and get to work. Bitch. I told her and the officers that I was not going to just let her go anywhere without making sure she is properly cared for and supervised. I also told the officers that she is on a lot of medication, and as a parent it is my responsibility to see that she gets medical care. When she left Friday she didn't take her medicine, and missed her Sat. morning dose as well. I asked if she'd taken her meds today, and she said no. Right. I pointed out that some of these meds have withdrawal symptoms if stopped suddenly, and some of her feelings might be due to that. So take your damned medicine bitch!

Then these two fine young men with the Greenwood Police Department proceeded to give her yet another lecture about how she is a child and must obey her parents. She's got it good now. Her parents care about her and are taking good care of her. She is powerless until she turns 18. She needs to obey us. The real world is a lot uglier than this. Et cetera. She didn't like that much, but had the sense to keep her mouth shut. Last time I saw her she was in the kitchen doing what I told her to do. I told Superman to keep me away from her because I want to smack the shit out of her. I want to kick her into next year. I am very angry.

Superman is working on the sink cabinet for the hall bathroom. The bathroom that has been in various stages of remodel for, what, five years now? The sink cabinet is one of the last things to do. He's actually working on it now. I am pleased about that. Perhaps this week we will have a sink in the bathroom. I hope so.

Sparkling wine doesn't seem to like my intestines. Or vise-verse.

I need a break. Yes, I still need to run away. I'm working on a plan. Might run away twice. Perhaps I can take a couple of days, maybe three, away from home this week. But I need a long trip. That won't happen until  after school is out for the summer probably. I don't know yet. We shall see. I want to visit some blog friends in various places along the east coast.

That's what I know now.

Oh my stars it's been so long since I posted!

Full disclosure: I have had a full bottle of ChocoVine cheap nasty red wine with chocolate milk or something in it. Lovely stuff, though cheap and nasty. The buzz is beautiful, though. I don't want to know the calorie count, so don't even tell me.  It looks like chocolate milk and tastes rich and inviting. Twitch said it tastes like chocolate flavored cough syrup, so I don't have to worry about him getting into it, eh? Hee hee. 

Posting pictures is going to be a problem for a while because I lost my camera. Well, I have the pictures I took before it died. By "lost" I mean this: 
Java goes canoeing swimming! My camera was in a small pack that was in the canoe when it overturned. It got kinda wet. It kinda doesn't work anymore, though I was able to save the SD card. So I have a few pictures to post. The picture above was taken by my loving brother Jim who was in a kayak following our canoe. Hal (a former step brother with whom I lived as a teen) was in the stern of the canoe, I was manning the bow. This was the first time we dumped. Once we got the canoe on the bank, dumped the water out, and got settled in it again, we headed down the river again. Fifteen minutes later we did the same damned thing. That is me with the funny hat on in the above picture. We were carrying most of the lunch stuff. And we spent so much time in the damned water that we really didn't have time to stop to eat lunch. After the second time we dumped into the drink, I moved into my brother Mike's canoe and that worked a bit better. Part of the problem is that I'm a bit too heavy to ride in the bow of a canoe. Woe is me.

All of my brothers, the two biological ones and the three step brothers I grew up with, went canoeing on the Juniper run in the Ocala National Forest the day after Daddy's life celebration party. It was more "closure" than the party was. We had a small packet of Daddy's ashes that we sprinkled into the river. Daddy and Mary (the step brothers' mom, Daddy's second wife) used to take us canoeing on this piece of river when we were kids. That was the reasoning behind the canoe trip and sprinkling his ashes into the river.

I have canoeing experience, but it was so long and so many pounds ago that I've lost my touch. Amazingly, though, I was hardly sore the next day, and not at all sore (except some bruising on my legs) the day after. I did kinda make the trip hard on the brothers though, and I feel bad about that. But I really wanted to go, really wanted to be present for the disposition of Daddy's ashes. I'm glad I went, even if it was more challenging for the brothers.

And can we talk about the brothers for a few? I love my brothers, specifically the two biological ones. The step brothers, for the most part, I like well enough. There's one in particular that I have some "uncomfortable" history with, and I won't go into that here. (If you're terribly curious, email me privately and we'll talk.) Nevertheless, about the brothers: they're pretty damned critical of me. I had a hard time with them  last week. (for reference, I arrived in Gainesville on Wednesday April 17th and departed Wednesday April most recent, whatever that was.) It's a hard time in retrospect. I was too busy living in the moment to realize how troublesome it was at the time. I love my brothers, I really do. And I have a lot of respect for them (the two I'm directly related to, particularly). Here's my take-away impression from my interactions with all five: I am not good enough. I'm not as good as they are at the things they do well. Canoeing is  but one example. Parenting seems to be another, at least in the case of two of them. I certainly don't keep house as well as they do (which, by the way, is true). It seems to me that the only comparisons are the ones in which they shine. What about me? I can do many things well. I'm sensitive and caring, I sew well, am good with arts/crafts. I'm very nurturing, which can be a good thing in moderation (evidently). I am very intelligent. But when I'm with them, we play by their rules, on their playing field. And I fail there. Java < brothers. Java < men. 

Maybe I'm a bit butt-hurt. Maybe I should get over myself. Maybe I should have a really good cry over all of this and move on. What I've been doing is drinking too much.

Let's find some pictures. That might cheer us up a bit.
This is Hal, the step brother with whom I shared a canoe. Also the one with me when the canoe tipped over. Twice. He did not want his picture taken, so he hid every time I pointed the camera backward.

 And here's the river. It really is beautiful.

 Much of the river bottom is clear white Florida sand. Some of it is a thick layer of mucky detritus. It was in the mucky part that we dumped the canoe both times. Icky, and hard to get out of.

Here's my Mama at the life celebration party for Daddy. She's his first wife.

 These are the step brothers, Mary's sons. Mary is Daddy's second wife. She is still alive, but suffering from some pretty severe dementia. Not sure if it's actually Alzheimer's. Hal (the one in the middle) is taking care of her mostly. She's in a nursing home near where Hal lives.

 Left to right that's Dan (the youngest), Hal and Charles (the twins). Charles, by the way, is gay. He's living in Vancouver, BC, Canada and is officially married to his husband Bob (whom I've never met). Dan lives in Gainesville and I've seen him recently, but haven't seen Hal and Charles in over 30 years. Nice, mostly, and also kinda weird to see them again.

Light flew in from Pennsylvania for the festivities! It was really good to see her. Didn't get to spend much time with her, though I plan (hope) to get up to Pennsylvania to see her before too long.

 This is Kathy, Daddy's third and final wife. She is the grieving widow.

And she is, too. She really misses Daddy. She's mad at him because he died, because he isn't coming home. She keeps waiting for him to walk in the door. They really loved each other. They were together for 20 years, twice as long as either of his first two marriages lasted. Kathy is having a rough time. She also has Parkinson's disease which is getting worse. She will soon (I think soon, anyway) need to have a lot more help with daily living tasks. Daddy was planning to be there for her, to help her as long as he could and keep her as independent as possible. I'm not sure what will happen with Kathy. Her oldest son Tom came from Portland, Oregon to be here (there) for the life celebration. I'm really glad Tom was there. He needed to see for himself how fragile his mother is now, how much her disease has impaired her abilities.

I like Kathy a lot. She is very opinionated and outspoken, and some people in my family (some of the brothers) have a hard time dealing with her. She is wise and has a lot of good things to say. She's also full of shit sometimes. The trick is to recognize the difference. I don't have much trouble taking the good and ignoring the bad. I'm worried about her. I want her to be well cared for as much as possible. She has a strong independent streak, so it might be tough for her to let go of some things, to accept her limitations which continue to increase daily. I feel bad for her. Parkinson's is a rotten way to go. Avoid it if possible.

And I have been drinking more. I don't think I'm turning into an alcoholic, but then the alcoholic is the last to know, right? This is the way I'm dealing with the stress. Not healthy. Most of my medications caution against drinking while taking the medicine. Yeah, well, right now I don't care.

In my next post, Sproing! What's he up to now?

The weekend in Delaware

I had no idea Delaware could be so fun. Maybe it's Delaware, maybe it's the company of all these lovely bloggers from lots of other places.

 These are just a few pics I took last night. There's Jay and Anne Marie and Ron in the top photo, taken in the lobby of the Inn. The second and third pics were taken in the suite where Cubby is staying. In the third pic are Ron, Fred, and Mark (right to left) and the crowd in the second pic are, as near as I can tell, Anne Marie sitting on the right, David in the chair beside her, Todd (Anne Marie's husband) on the stool to the far left, and behind them in the kitchen are Mark, Fred, Ron, and Nate.

The cocktail hour is about to begin downstairs and I must dress for dinner. Still haven't had a chance to make links and stuff to these other bloggers. Sorry.

This afternoon we went into Rehoboth Beach for some silly pictures and lunch at a lovely Mexican place where The Cajun works. We ate, we laughed, we laughed, we drank, we enjoyed a beautiful day, and then laughed some more. Sean Breen and his husband, me and Superman were passengers in the car Harper's Keeper was driving. The four of us gave him some very interesting directions getting back to the Inn in Lewes. It's amazing we arrived at all. There was much laughing. There has been lots of laughter since this adventure began.

Coming to this Bloggerpalooza is the best idea we've had all year.

Off to have more fun. Will post more pics later.