Beginning with a quote, some random tidbits, then a boring ramble about my life

Another quote, because I found it relevant.

The art of progress is to preserve order amid change, and to preserve change amid order. -Alfred North Whitehead, mathematician and philosopher (1861-1947)

I also like this guy's name; Alfred North Whitehead. An auspicious name, indeed.

A sign of inflation: the leading men in romance novels are now billionaires. Being a lowly millionaire isn't enough anymore.

To The Cat: Do you think I love you? No. You are not worthy of love. You demand worship, thereby foregoing the privilege of love.

I spent many hours this afternoon sorting through things. I'm trying to clear out some of the clutter. It's not technically a New Year's Resolution, because I don't like to make those. But it's something I've been working toward for a few months. (Years, maybe?) This is a convenient time to do it because Superman is home for two weeks and he helps me get things accomplished. We have been painting the front room this week. Well, painting it some more. We'd already put the gray on the wainscoting and the yellow above the chair rail. This week I have painted the yellow stripes on the yellow wall. It looks really good! The contrast is subtle and the whole thing works well, I think. We've decided to repaint the trim, too, because by golly it needs it. The existing color works really well with what we've done to the walls, and Superman found the right can of paint, so we can repaint. I was hoping to do that today (hoping Superman would do it, because he said he would and he's better with the detail work, anyway) but other things, important things, got done today instead.

So I started going through some of the boxes and bags of junk. I've only just begun. I found interesting things, like the sketch books and syllabi from two of my art classes that I took at Mercer University in 1986. One was a drawing class (b o r i n g), the other was advanced ceramics (thrilling!!). I kept those. I threw away the old colored pencils from the drawing class, though. Unfortunately I kept more that I tossed from that box. I took care of a couple of other box/bag things. There is SO MUCH more to do! It's intimidating. I'm supposed to tell myself "good for you for doing as much as you did" but sometimes I don't believe myself when I say crap like that. I organized our board games bin, too. Good for me.

In the box that holds our board games (it's our coffee table, too) I found a huge box of old pictures. That's what finally did me in. I looked through a few of them but had to stuff it all back in the box and put it in the other cabinet where it should have been already anyway. I don't know how it got into the coffee table box. Subterfuge, maybe.

Do you know how hard it is for a hoarder (that's me) (I can claim it now, which I suppose is progress, huh?) to sort through and throw away things? I feel good about what I accomplished, honestly. It feels good, in a way, to let loose of the junk. But it takes an emotional toll. And yeah, those pictures tipped me over the edge. I predict it will be many many months (years?) before I'm ready to sort the pictures.

I have two other boxes in the chairs at the dining table that I need to sort though. Then there are another three or four boxes of general crap in the front yellow room that I need to process before we can use the room. It all seems so overwhelming right now. I've had a beer, though, and that helps a little bit. Superman took over supper preparations (I got the collard greens cleaned and on the stovetop. He's made cornbread, supervised the cooking of the greens, and I think he may have heated up a can of baked beans. We didn't have any canned black-eyed peas, so we're making do with baked beans.) and sent me back to my room. I needed to lie down. Well, I'm sitting up using the computer, but I am in bed, so it's all good. And I had a beer, did I mention? That's good too.

Yesterday Superman and I went to my favorite thrift store source for furniture and bought a three piece living room set. There's a sofa, love seat, and rocker-recliner. The love seat reclines individually, too. It's pretty cool, really. Blue plaid with off-white background and some other neutral-ish colors in the plaid, neutral enough that I can't remember what they are. We've needed more furniture in the living room, but there's so much other junk in that room that there's not space for what we got. That's one reason I'm going through stuff today. It's time, and we need the space.

I'll tell you what we need. The front living room (parlor? sitting room?) that C is living in now. He was supposed to be out by the end of November, but alas, here he is. Superman has told the boy (young man, at 25 years old!!) that if he's  not out by the end of January his stuff is going to be on the curb. He needs to be out, and we need him out. I have grand plans for that room. I need it for my sewing/crafts/art. And office, perhaps. I'm not sure what all the room will hold, but I have lots of stuff to go in there.

And speaking of C, he's out of the hospital. He only stayed one night. He has psoriasis on his leg/ankle and the cracked skin allowed some infection to take hold. At the hospital he received IV antibiotics and got a prescription for an oral dose of something. Anyway, he feels much better now.

Back to my life, my house. One thing I've needed for a long time is ONE place for all of my sewing and crafts things. I have a little bit here, some there, a box or five stacked in there, etc. I feel as though I'd be able to work more efficiently on my creative things if it was all centrally located and organized. And I need to be creative. It feeds my soul.

So, about this soul of mine. Diva's aura sucks my soul dry. That may have something to do with why the box of pictures did me in. She was sitting in the room with me when I opened the box. She wasn't doing anything, it's not like she was trying to bother me. It's a gift with her, that ability to disrupt my groove. She has such a negative energy about her all the time. Or most of the time anyway. Today for sure. She walks in and anger fills the room. Anger, contempt, hatred. That's what she brings to the interaction. I try, I really do, to be as positive as possible. Some days it just doesn't work. She has been home for too long. You know she got suspended from school the last week before winter break. They go back next Monday. Oh, I'm so eager for her (and Sproing, too) to be out of my house all day, and at school where I know other people are watching out for them.

I can feel the tendrils of depression obscuring my outlook. I hope hope hope I feel better tomorrow.

Happy New Year

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.

Funny, or in poor taste?

I'm the last to know

...what most of my friends and relations figured out about me long ago. But I'll get to that in a minute. First, let's have some bullet points.

• Today is C's birthday! He's 23 today. We're taking him and N out to dinner later this evening.
• The Hospice folks have assigned me to a new patient. I'll find out more tomorrow, then go for my first visit next week. I can't say much about it, confidentiality being all the rage these days. But I'm excited about starting this adventure.
• One of those therapist people is supposed to come see us this evening. Right, and we're taking C and N to dinner. I see too many therapists, honestly folks. This is the lady who works with us to help us better understand/cope/parent these crazy kids.
• And speaking of kids, today was their last day of school. This does not please me. I am sad that their summer break fills me with dread. I'm not totally unprepared, there are some possible activities to keep them busy. Hey, on the bright side, I won't be getting phone calls from school about their misbehaviors!
• Our little car has been making some odd noises. I foresee a trip to the mechanic in the near future. I noticed last week that she (her name is Eva) needs a new set of tires. And Manny my beloved truck is in bad shape. He runs, but not fast and not far.
• High temperatures in the area this week are in the mid to high 90s (F). That's mid 30s for you sophisticated metric-system-users. I managed to avoid going out today, but every other day this week I've been running errands and such in the hot middle of the day. It will only get worse over the next three to four months. I miss winter.
• My hair needs cutting. Again. Didn't we just do this a couple of months ago? I made an appointment Tuesday evening for Wednesday morning, then called early Wednesday morning to cancel it. I didn't feel comfortable about the stylist. I drove past another shop yesterday that looked decent. I should have called that shop today to set something up, but I wimped out. I like my hair short, but don't like the process of shortening it. We've discussed this.

Back to the original topic: I have a confession to make. I am a hoarder. No, it isn't as bad as the really scary stuff, but it isn't good, either. I don't attach sentimental value to used kitchen sponges or empty toilet paper tubes. I do, however, have a hard time getting rid of stuff. I mean to, I say that I want to, but when my stuff is on the line, I don't usually follow through.

I'm just realizing this about myself. If my family were to read this (extended family, the nuclear family of origin*) they would bust a gut laughing. As I begin to explore this new title, I'm faced with evidence that extends way into the past. Hell, just looking around my office I see evidence of long-term hoarding. How long have I had that (random item of junk)?

I watched an episode of the A&E program recently. It was the first time I've seen the show. I'd heard about it, but not watched it. My pathetic little self says "I'm not as bad as that person, or that one, or those weirdos." But does it matter? In the long run, probably not. I have my individual expression of the pathology (part of me denies that it is pathological) that restricts my life, as do other hoarders I have known.

I hoard more than stuff, too. Am I hoarding my hair, not wanting to allow anyone else to cut it? I dunno. Last week I got an email from a dear friend I'd not heard from in a while, and it took me four days to answer it. I think I was hoarding the essence of hearing from him. How messed up is that?

There is lots to explore and confront. We'll be returning to this topic in the future, I feel certain.

*Those of my immediate family who might read this are already laughing hysterically.

P.S. I just told C of my recent realization. He was very good. He only laughed for a minute or two.