Christmas Day 2016

Merry Christmas!
We're having a modest Christmas. We bought one or two things to give to each of the sons and the gay pseudo-son, and Twitch gave us a marble mortar and pestle. I had amazon.com send a thing to Light and her boyfriend, and to my Mama. And that's it for Christmas. We finished a delicious early afternoon feast, most of which Superman cooked. Ain't he wonderful? I made the sweet potato casserole and pumpkin and pecan pies, and he made everything else.

I have this wonderful cookbook on my Kindle, An Unexpected Cookbook: The Unofficial Book of Hobbit Cookery.* I bought it about this time last year but hadn't yet made any of the recipes. Well, I chose a few to make side dishes for our Christmas feast. We had braised carrots, rosemary skillet peas, and the most wonderful savory bread pudding! Savory bread pudding is pretty much the same thing as dressing (or stuffing if you prefer) but this recipe has ingredients I've never used in dressing. It was the hit of the day, if you disregard the turkey and the pies. Really, all of it was delicious.

Superman has had a marble mortar and pestle for years, but the pestle broke a few years ago. It's hard to use that pestle when it's only half as long as it should be. One's fingers are in danger of being mashed against the side of the mortar. So Twitch gave him a new one. And there was much rejoicing.

The gingerbread house is on hold until after Christmas. I'll probably start playing with it again tomorrow. I made a few of the pieces but the big one fell apart when I tried to take it off the cookie sheet. Then I looked in my old recipe book and realized the recipe I printed off from my computer files is the wrong one! This cookie is actually easier to eat, softer and more fragile. The other recipe makes a very hard cookie which is superior for construction. So bully for me, I'm going to use that tomorrow. I'll post a picture when it's finished. My new goal is to have it finished by New Years Day.

*This book can be had from amazon.com in Kindle edition for $5.99 as of this writing. It's also available in hardcover, but I suspect it's out of print, since the hardcover edition sells for $139.96.

Well that was interesting

In an effort to exercise my creativity, please my family, and holiday this shit up, I've decided to build a gingerbread house. This is no small feat. I go big for this shit. For instance my gingerbread house windows look a lot like glass because I use hard candy melted into the window spaces. In past years (and it's been years since I made one) I used butterscotch candies. This year I want to do something more transparent so I decided to make my own hard candy. It's not really that hard, except I just messed it up. You're gonna get a kick out of this.

Looks great, no? I melted together sugar, light corn syrup and a little bit of water and boiled that cauldron to the hard crack stage, approximately 300F degrees. A little bit hotter than 300, actually, and it's too hard. Also that's way too much. But that's not the kicker. Candy has flavor, right? The recipe called for 1 tablespoon of extract flavoring, recommending anise, lemon, orange, or peppermint. Don't like anise or peppermint, didn't want lemon, don't have orange. But I do have some cinnamon oil, and wouldn't that be good!?

As I pour the cinnamon in I think to myself "Self, cinnamon oil is a lot stronger than an extract." As I pour it in the pot. All the full tablespoon. For your edification, let me say that one tablespoon of cinnamon oil is a lot. The pot of candy is steaming pretty hard, and the oil, wow! Goes right into my sinuses. And my eyes. And I think to myself, "Shit!"

I poured the goo onto the prepared pan. Damn, that's a lot of candy. It puddled thick on the pan. I don't know if you can see from the picture, but those chunks of candy are probably 1/4 inch thick. Cory came into the kitchen and said "Wow, it smells like Big Red in here." Somewhat fearfully I tasted it. The stuff tastes strong, but it didn't kill either of us. Superman just returned from the supermarket and had a bite. He likes it.

Superman brought me some more ingredients so I can make another batch, this time smaller and much less flavored. Think I'll use vanilla. Vanilla candy sounds good, no?

We don't celebrate Christmas much around here. We eat a modest feast, exchange a gift or two, nothing extravagant. Years ago when we were active in the church Christmas was a big deal. Now that I don't worship regularly and the kids are grown Christmas doesn't seem so important. I just don't care much. My brother Mike shares similar sentiments. Talking to him the other day, he told me he actually decorated this year! He provided proof.

I hadn't planned to decorate (the gingerbread house being categorized as "holiday baking" not decorating) but he inspired me. Today we decorated. Here's proof.

I've had a rest now, so I'm heading back to the kitchen to try again. If I'm successful I plan to post again with the results. 

UPDATE: The second candy batch worked much better. Smaller batch, subtle vanilla flavor, and lighter in color. The actual gingerbread house is next, and that will take a while to figure out. When and if I get it finished I'll post about that in a few days. 

December 4th

It's about time for another haircut. I just noticed my picture in the sidebar here and I'm wearing my hair shorter than that now. If it's long enough to need a brush, it's too long.  Right now it's too long.

Happy National Cookie Day. I baked cookies. If I wasn't so lazy I'd go take a picture of them for you. Transferring a photo from my phone to the computer... I'm not exactly sure how to do that. Anyway, I modified a recipe for Hermit cookies to make them fortified with extra protein and other healthy stuff. Want the recipe? Here it is!

Fortified Hermit Cookies

Ingredients:

·         ½ cup butter, room temperature

·         ¼ - ½ cup brown sugar, packed

·         ¼ cup un-sulfured molasses

·         2 large eggs

·         1 tsp. vanilla extract (or more, to taste)

·         1 cup all-purpose flour*

·         2 cups uncooked rolled oats (old fashioned)

·         ½ - 1 cup non-fat dry milk powder

·         1 tsp. baking soda

·         ½ tsp. salt

·         1 Tablespoon ground cinnamon

·         1 tsp. allspice

·         1 tsp. nutmeg

·         1 cup raisins (golden raisins, sultanas)

·         1 cup chopped dates

·         1 cup chopped pecans (or nut of your choice)

·         1 Tablespoon flour

Directions:       Preheat oven to 350°F

With electric mixer at medium speed, cream together butter, brown sugar, and molasses. Add eggs and beat until thoroughly mixed. Beat in vanilla extract.

In separate bowl combine dry ingredients: flour, oats, milk powder, baking soda, salt, and spices. At low speed, gradually mix dry ingredients into wet mixture until they are thoroughly mixed. In a small bowl combine the fruit and nuts, stirring in 1 Tablespoon flour to coat. Then stir the nuts and dried fruits into the dough.

Drop cookies by tablespoonful onto a lightly greased or parchment-lined baking sheet, about two inches apart. Bake 10-12 minutes until edges are set but centers appear moist. Cool on baking sheet two minutes, then transfer to wire racks to cool completely.

Store in an airtight container.

*If using self-rising flour, omit the baking soda. 

This might work pretty well. I've made some adjustments on the amounts of powdered milk, flour, sugar, and oats. Quick cooking oats (but not instant) will work fine, I think. Leaving out the powdered milk entirely will also probably work. I keep powdered milk in the house all the time, as I like to drink it. No one else around here does, and I suspect many people don't have it on hand. But it does add nutritional value to these cookies. Also, probably any dried fruit will do. 

But that's not really what I came to talk about. Today is Diva's 19th birthday. I haven't communicated with her at all today, or for the last several months. I'm not entirely sure where she is. Last I heard she lived in Greenville, about 50 miles or so north of our town. But I don't know where in Greenville she lives, or even for sure if she lives there. I think she's still in South Carolina. 

Here's the thing: she's crazy. I gave her the nickname "Diva" for the blog many years ago, and she has continued to exhibit these dramatic qualities, more so every year it seems. Our relationship is toxic. Or was, since we don't seem to have a relationship now. She's not good for me, and as much as I wish things were different, I'm not really good for her either. So here we are. 

We adopted her because we wanted another child. We wanted her. She was only 14 months old when she came to live with us. As she grew, and especially into adolescence, she was more and more difficult. Not normal "difficult adolescent" difficult, but crazy difficult. Violent, uncontrollable. Perhaps we could have handled things differently, but we did the best we could with the knowledge and abilities we had. Things didn't go well. The older she got the worse it got. She lied all the time, stole from us... there are a lot of details in the archives of this blog. I don't want to think about the details because it stresses and depresses me. 

And here it is, her 19th birthday. I want for her to be a pleasant person and for us to have a loving relationship. I'd love to call her up and have a lovely chat and wish her a happy birthday. The reality is that if I contact her at all, I'll be caught up in the Diva Drama Tornado. Superman is over it. Sooo over it! I've contemplated this for a few weeks and decided that the best course of action at this time is inaction. So I haven't looked for her on Facebork (she unfriended me years ago) or posted anything there about her. She doesn't know where this blog is, I think. 

I mourn for the loss of the ideal. And I wish her well. I hope she's doing well, hope she is successful, staying out of trouble, learning good lessons about the world. 

Happy Birthday, Angel. 

Casting into the void --- is anyone there?

So I've been contemplating my worth recently.

I am undergoing therapy for a sexual assault that happened when I was in my early teens. I'm 54, almost 55. My therapist sees a lot of young children, too, and that breaks my heart. She says the little kids take to therapy much better than most adults. They're resilient and believe what they're told. She tells them the sexual assault is not their fault, and they just believe it. She tells me my experiences are not my fault and it's ... it doesn't make sense that I don't have some culpability in the scenario.

Winter is approaching. Summer is over. I'm thankful for that. As has been mentioned in this space previously (a lot) I don't fare well in the heat. It's cold enough to need a fire in the wood stove. I'm back in my bedroom with the door closed, so it's a good bit cooler here than in the living room. I'm comfortable in a short sleeve dress. Ahhh.

My sleep quality is poor these days because my obstructive sleep apnea has gotten worse. I had a sleep study last month that determined I need increased pressure on my CPAP machine. The doctor gave me a prescription for a new CPAP with the increased setting. The supplier has all the necessary information. Then they told me it'll be 3-5 weeks before I get my fucking CPAP. Bastids. I'm snoring through my current CPAP, having apnea episodes, waking up with a sore throat from snoring so hard, and I'm tired all the time. Speaking of which, it's almost time for a nap. I love naps.

A couple of years ago I lost a good bit of weight, around 60 pounds. Well, I've gained most of it back. I should get back to the gym. I need a new gym membership, though. I'm strongly considering the local YMCA. I looked into it a few months ago and found that membership fees for people over 55 are discounted. Since I'll be 55 in January I figure I'll wait until then. I also had the bright idea to do some yoga in the meantime, to get limber and possibly strengthen my core, or whatever. I visited the yoga studio, got the business card of the woman I need to talk to. But alas, I haven't taken it any further. Yet. Maybe after Thanksgiving.

I'm very good at procrastinating. It's one of my greatest talents. (Note that it's been nearly six months since my last post. I occasionally think of posting, then something else happens.)

Sproing was in the county jail for 5 blissfully drama-free months. It was a bogus arrest, though, and he didn't deserve to be there. He was there awaiting trial for a piddly little charge, and didn't get a court date for a ridiculously long time. He was charged with auto break-in and petty theft. He allegedly opened an unlocked car and took some loose change from the ashtray. Why anyone would leave their car unlocked in that neighborhood I do not know. (It's "the projects") The only thing they had on him was the testimony of one of his hoodlum friends, who probably did it himself, the little punk. Sproing says he didn't do it, and I believe him. Yeah, he's a liar, but he's been pretty honest about the crimes he's committed. And really, auto break-in and petty theft and they leave him to sit and wait for five months? Geez. He didn't get a trail, either. The solicitor's office assumed guilt and offered him pre-trial intervention (PTI), which costs $350 (which he doesn't have) and 40 hours of community service. He doesn't even mind the community service. And it'll be good for him. After the completion of the PTI his record will be expunged. All very well and good, but he didn't do the crime in the first place. Shit. The criminal "justice" system is fucked up.

Superman, Twitch, and I are going to visit my in-laws for Thanksgiving. This year Thanksgiving happens to fall on my father-in-law's birthday, so his kids have decided to make the whole thing into a birthday party instead. I mean, it'll be Thanksgiving with the whole feast thing, we'll just call it Grand Dad's birthday. It's cool. BUT, it's the in-laws. They are ... well, they have social and political and religious views that are different from mine. They also disapprove of cussing. I'm fucked. (Actually, last time I visited I managed to go three days without cussing in their presence once!!) My m-i-l voted for Trump. F-i-l voted third party. To their credit, neither of them likes Trump, but they preferred him to Hillary. I'm hoping for no political discussion. They have a lovely screened back porch to which I can escape if the discussion gets too uncomfortable.

And speaking of complicated discussions, they want to hear all about Light's new boyfriend. Yes, Light has a boyfriend. Superman and I visited them in late October. He's a wonderful fellow, about three years younger than Light's 27 years, will graduate from IUP next month with a dual degree in English and religious studies. That's what the in-laws will like. That he's from western Pennsylvania, not a plus to these southern rebels. Grand Dad dreads that his great-grandchildren will be Yankees. Yes. Really.

Here's the rest of the story. The religious study the bf concentrated on is Buddhism. Not protestant Christianity which is the only acceptable option in their opinion. We won't tell them that. The "boy" part of boyfriend is his gender identity which doesn't correspond to his DNA or body morphology. No unplanned pregnancies in this monogamous relationship! So no Yankee grandchildren unless they do the sperm donor thing. Which Light is considering. I'm thrilled that she's in love with a wonderful young transgender man. There's a lot we won't be telling the grandparents.

There's a cat sleeping on my arms, making it difficult to type. The whole nap idea seems more and more appealing.

I'm better at thinking about doing than the actual doing of a thing

Happy Memorial Day. It is my goal to post this to my blog before the end of the day. As I begin it is now almost 11:00 a.m. and I feel the need for a nap. To sleep, perhaps to avoid doing uncomfortable things.

Why am I uncomfortable about writing this? Possible reasons: this is my confessional and I don't want to feel the uncomfortable feelings related to what's going on in my life. Hmm. That's one. And that's the only one my brain will allow to escape right now. Seriously, I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open.

I should probably seek more counseling. There's a sexual trauma and abuse counseling center here in town. I have body issues stemming from, oh, I don't know, being female in this culture or something. (Is it just me, or does this paragraph lack cohesion?)

My chest wall hurts. My boobs are too heavy, and way too female, and I want them significantly reduced so they don't hurt my body or my self image anymore.

I'm so sleepy. My brain just isn't allowing me to ... finish ... or continue

Man. I'm messed up.

In related news, my psychiatrist and I have been adjusting my meds. I was on the maximum dose of two drugs for my mental illnesses (whatever they are. Legion.). We've eliminated Cymbalta entirely (stepping down gradually, of course) and I only take the minimum dose of Wellbutrin now. I had completely stopped taking the Wellbutrin, but wow, things got kinda bad kinda fast, so I added 150 mg back into the regimen and we're rocking along... inconclusively.

The pisser (one of) is that my psychiatrist is leaving her practice. She's moving away. This is a bad time for me to lose my doctor. There are no others in Greenwood. I should find someone in Greenville or elsewhere because now is a bad time for me to be doctorless. Unfortunately I'm not in such good condition to make rational decisions of that nature. Especially today. Not having a particularly healthy day here, people. Friday was better. Last Tuesday was a good day. It isn't all bad, I promise.

I need a break here. I'm going to get something to eat, maybe take a nap, and come back in a while. Hang tight.
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OK, I had a nap and now the Atlanta Braves are on the telly, up 3-1 over San Francisco Giants. It's almost 2:00 p.m., for those keeping track of these things.

I feel a little bit better. Let's see how this goes.

Last time I blogged I talked about Diva and Sproing. We'll get to Sproing in a minute. Diva won't take long.

Diva was doing amazingly well. HA! That was all a lie. She was faking it. As is typical of her, she faked it for about three months before it all went to hell. Turns out she never paid anything for rent. I thought she had covered her part at least once, but Superman tells me no, not a penny. He paid the whole amount for two, maybe three months, but we can't afford that. He stopped paying for her, she got evicted. If you recall, his name was on the lease, so he's on the hook here. What with one thing and another (late fees, eviction fees, furniture moving fees, significant cleaning fee) Superman ended up owing $3400. The apartment office has been very good to work with, and they arranged a three month payment plan to pay it off without the mess affecting his credit score. I mailed the final payment Saturday morning.

In the meantime Diva has disappeared from our radar. She called one day in March and got my voice mail. Superman sent her a text telling her that unless she has $3400 for him, he doesn't want to hear from her. And we haven't heard from her. I don't know if she's still in Greenville. No clue. I'm mildly curious but don't really care.

She has hurt us over and over and over. Superman wanted to give her another chance, so he put a lot of faith, time, effort, and money into helping her get started in Greenville. I figured it wouldn't work, but didn't try to stop him. Although it cost us a lot emotionally, it wasn't a mistake. Superman had to see what she would do. I'm very sad about the whole thing, but glad to be where we are now. Sad but relieved, is perhaps the best way to say it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now on to Sproing. This is going to take a little longer. When last we reported, he had been charged with receiving stolen goods, which was a bullshit charge. He happened to be giving a friend a ride and the friend left the stolen goods (two name brand but cheap watches. What's with that? These name brands have so much fashion clout but are cheaply made. That's just wrong.) in the door pocket of the vehicle. Anyway, those charges were eventually dropped so it's all as if nothing happened.

It could be said that he makes poor choices about the people he hangs out with, but ... we won't go there now.

And Sproing got a job! Yay! A dishwasher and general clean-up flunky at a local family owned restaurant, he liked it at first. He definitely liked getting paid. But he was scheduled to work nine hours a day, five or six days a week. That was kind of a lot, he thought, and I agree sort of. Rather than working it out with his boss, he adjusted his schedule all by himself. Here's a basic truth: if you don't show up for work, you won't have a job. Ta-da! Unemployment. That was, I don't remember exactly, but at least a month ago. Maybe six weeks now. He's kind of looking for work, but not with a lot of dedication. The dish washing job was off the books, under the table stuff, which works for him being on probation for burglary. And I think the burglary conviction is hampering his ability to find work, though I'm not sure. Sproing doesn't tell me anything.

So he's home a lot, doing nothing, acting like an 18 year old boy. He's surly, rude, selfish, disrespectful, and lazy. So we've kicked him out. We gave him a month's notice because we're too nice. His move out date is June 15th. He doesn't like to talk about it, so I have no idea how things are progressing.

But he has GOT to go. He isn't listening to anything we say. We've taught him everything we can to this point. He has a lot to learn, and the only way he's going to learn it is if he goes out on his own. Being home with mommy and daddy is holding him back.

I read something online last night about dealing with sociopaths. Diva is full on classic sociopath, but Sproing has some sociopathic tendencies. He's a manipulative little shit. He has a conscience, which is way more than can be said for Diva, but still. He knows my buttons and pushes them All. The. Time. "They" say I should not let him get to me, not be so vulnerable. Sorry. No can do. This is who I am, and he's my son and I love him. I don't like him very much right now, but I love him.

On to broader topics....

Superman went out of town for the weekend to visit his family. He's on his way home now, but it'll be probably 6:00 or later before he gets home. I miss him. Sproing has been a challenge to deal with and Superman is a huge buffer for me when Sproing gets difficult. There are of course other reasons I miss him, but that's a big one.

I'm craving a big bowl of cold chocolate pudding right now.

So I got a "new" car! My stepmom bought a new car for herself and gave me her old minivan. It's a 2000 Mercury Villager. She had it checked over thoroughly before I got it. I went to Florida to pick it up earlier this month. Fun trip! My stepmom is a cool lady.

Before coming back to South Carolina I drove down to the Orlando area to visit my mother. She's not doing well. She has become very frail. She was recently diagnosed with congestive heart failure, which explains why she's been so very tired of late. She gets winded walking from one end of her condo to the other, and it isn't a big place. It's a real challenge to walk to the mailbox, maybe 75 feet. It wasn't all that long ago she could spend half a day out shopping. No longer. Mama can still live on her own at this point, but my brother and I are discussing plans for when she needs more help.

As I said, Superman visited his parents this weekend. They are doing much worse. His dad is a shriveled up nub of his former self. He loses his balance a lot, has fallen a few times. He's a stubborn coot. Shouldn't be driving, but still does. I'm staying out of it. He's not my dad; it's up to his kids to do the difficult thing. My mother-in-law has lymphoma. It has been a slowly progressing thing, but the progress is speeding up. She had a lump on her upper arm that they zapped with radiation. Now she has a lump on the back of her tongue that needs to be surgically removed. As Superman said to me a couple of nights ago, looks like it won't be long for either/both of them.

These are hard things. We discussed it before Superman left. Yeah, it's hard, but I'm glad we're in our mid 50s dealing with this rather than in our 20s or 30s. All of our parents have had full lives and are now really old. Our moms are 78, his dad is in his mid 80s. My father died three years ago at 78 years old, and as much as I miss him, as upset as I was when he died, I'm glad he's gone now. He died before he got so frail that he was dependent on others. He'd have hated that. My youngest brother says he's glad the old man isn't here to see Trump as a presidential candidate. I laughed and agreed.

The Braves beat the SF Giants 5-2. Braves haven't won very many games this season, so every win is a big deal.

Superman just called. He's about 2.5 hours away. I have time to wash the sheets!

Sproing and his friends are in the living room (I'm in my bedroom) disturbing my mental processes. Is it them or is it me? Both? I don't know. I can't think clearly any more so I'll just post this and do some laundry.

Three months of nothing, now two posts in one day.

Have you ever had a dream in which you are trying to dial a phone number, but some of the numbers are missing from the number pad, or you can't read the number you're supposed to be dialing? Or perhaps you're trying to find an address but all the buildings on the street have confusing address numbers. Really, any kind of dream where numbers just aren't there for you the way you need them.

I took a nap this afternoon after writing that first post. Had some vivid dreams, but slept hard. When I awoke I wanted to sign on to my laptop. When I typed in my password the system said that's the incorrect password. Well shit. I changed my password in the admin settings a few days ago, but now the damned machine won't accept that one. It wants my official Microsoft password, which I can't remember off the top of my head. It's on an excel spread sheet stored on this computer you won't let me sign in to. Fuck a duck.

I also have it stored in Dropbox. Let's go to the tablet! Well shit, the tablet doesn't have Dropbox installed. Not a big problem, I installed Dropbox. Cool. But to sign in to Dropbox I need, you guessed it, my Dropbox password which is where? Yeah. I've had to reset my passwords on Dropbox, Microsoft, Twitter, and Shorty Awards today. As you can tell, I was finally successful getting into the laptop. Took an hour to do it, though. This is the real life experience that reminds me off the I-can't-dial-a-phone-number dreams. Perhaps it causes those dreams. Who knows?

Just last week I bought myself a new laptop. A Toshiba Satellite. I got one back in '08 and it lasted for six years or more. I loved it, was crushed when it finally died. For the past couple of years I've been using the Asus Superman got for himself. He now uses a fancy thing he got for work so I use his. I don't like it much, and the charging plug-in port is messed up because I dropped it. I dropped it again a couple of weeks ago and terminally messed up the plug-in port.

Superman and I tootled off to the Max Office Depot. (They've merged now. No clue what to call it.) Went right to the Toshiba, found the Satellite with all the features I like. The keyboard is backlit so I can see the keys in the dark. I like that part. What I don't like, however, is that the damned thing will shut itself off every so often. It's not supposed to do that. And what's with losing my password change?

Since we're planning to give it to Sproing, I took Superman's broken Asus to a local repair shop, and while there I asked about this bad behavior from the Toshiba. Ryan, he's the guy behind the counter, said the quality of Toshibas isn't what it used to be. Recommended I take this sucker back and get a different model. Like, not a Toshiba. He's recommending Acer or Asus these days. So I have to get all my info back off my new computer, take it back, hassle with Maximum Depot to get a new one, put the info back onto another one and do all the setup machinations again. Some people get a kick out of manipulating computer thingies like this. Me, I get anxious and feel vulnerable. I suppose this is good exercise anyway. And it builds character, no doubt.

Does this post sound like complaining? I'm trying not to complain so much. It's a New Years' Resolution kind of thing. But I keep forgetting to not complain, you know? We try. It's all we can do. Unless we are training to be Jedi Knights or whatever, which I'm not, so it's all good.

Cognitive Dissonance and newsy updates

I love you all, dearly. So you'd think I'd want to communicate with you more often. And I do, on one level. But I have layers, like onions.

(Start at the 23 second mark)
Which in this illustration makes me the ogre. Well, sometimes that description is accurate. But that's not what we're here to talk about today.
I feel these forces within me grappling for control. Looking for the right word, we turn to Thesaurus.com and find: Discord, Dissonance, Disparity, Dissension, Incongruity, Contention, Variance. I give you - My Brain! (It's a very confusing place.)

And the blogging is but a small aspect of the larger complications in negotiating my day. Every day.

Well, it seems like every day, on bad days. If I recall correctly (and with this brain, who can tell?) on good days I know what to do and do it with confidence. On bad days I don't know what to do, or won't do what I know to do. Disparity within the ranks.

The professionals call this Depression. There might be other labels for it, more specific than depression. I don't care about labels anyway. Except when I do.

Time to move away from the navel gazing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the news... Let's start with Diva. When last we checked in, Diva had moved to live with her birth mother. Well, that lasted maybe a week or two. The two of them are so much alike in some negative ways. Talk about discord! Diva left, to go... where? "Dad, can you help me?" She didn't want to come back home, which is great because we didn't want her back here. She had a job by that time, working at Taco Bell and wanted to stay in the area to continue working. Good idea. Superman put her up in a cheap (relatively) motel for a week while she looked for an apartment. She did, found a place that she could almost afford. We're helping her out a bit. A couple hundred dollars a month is worth the price to have her living on her own.

She was still 17 when all this transpired. Superman had to put the lease in his name because she was a minor. She tried to enroll in the local high school, but being a minor she has to go to school in the district/zone where her parents live. Um, nope. Special case here. Even with her dad on the lease, that wasn't enough. So she waited until after her birthday to go back to enroll. They handed her a couple more hoops to jump through.  I think she's done everything they asked of her. They said they'd call her. She's still waiting.

Diva wanted to get a second job, because damn, living on one's own is expensive! (Yeah. Duh. Living with ungrateful greedy children is really expensive.) She found employment at a new burger joint opening down the street. Then she made the mistake of mentioning it at Taco Bell, so they fired her - two weeks before she started the new job. But then I get confused, because she was still at Taco Bell the day she.. Well, let me tell you about the level of awareness and personal responsibility Diva has attained!

She had been working with a manager she liked and respected. He treated her in kind. Of course he was transferred, because Corporate Decisions. The new manager isn't as easy to work with. She and Diva had some disagreement, the specifics are unimportant (I don't know them). She was "getting all up in (Diva's) face!" Diva, bless her heart, recognized her triggers and tried to back down. The manager told her to go into the office so they could discuss it. Diva, having finally learned a thing or two about herself, knew that was a bad idea. She told me she just knew if she'd gone in, she'd have gotten so angry as to lose her temper and end up "punching the bitch" which would lead to jail. I am so proud of her for having this foresight! She said to the manager "I need to leave," to which the manager responded "If you leave now, you won't be back." Diva said "OK" and walked out.

And Diva already has another job, so she's not destitute or anything. There was a week between the Taco Bell stint and the new thing, so funds might be tight this month. She's learning about life, for sure. And really learning! Not just pretending to, then doing some other stupid shit. Diva was to start her new job this past Monday. I haven't talked to her so don't know how it's going.

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Who's next? Let's look at Sproing. This young man needs some real life experience to teach him some truths, dammit. Back in October when I last posted, he was in the county hoosegow awaiting trial. His case went to court Wednesday of the week before Thanksgiving. They did a legal plea thing and applied a Youthful Offender thingie to the case. He was sentenced to 1-6 years, suspended, then put on probation for two years. As long as he stays out of legal trouble for these two years, he'll be able to have his record expunged. That's the Youthful Offender deal. So he came home in time for Thanksgiving, but the rest of us (Superman, Twitch, and I) went to Pennsylvania to visit Light for Thanksgiving. Couldn't take Sproing, so he spent his Thanksgiving alone. Kinda sucks, but it is what it is (as my brother likes to say).

Since coming home he's supposed to be getting back into a school of some kind and getting a job. Guess what. Neither has happened. He has filled out a few applications, and kinda talked about the school options. Right after Thanksgiving we contacted the high school about him re-enrolling, but because of his felony conviction, they don't want him there. I understand. I don't think he's cut out for traditional high school classes and all that bullshit anyway. His guidance counselor at school and I think he should get his GED. For some reason Sproing is adamantly opposed to that idea. Says he wants a genuine High School Diploma. We're supposed to be looking into online school options.

There's been a spanner thrown into the works, as the Brits like to say. Remember the part where he stays out of trouble for two years? Well, oops. There was a thing with some friend of his concerning two stolen watches. Sproing didn't steal them, I'm 97.5% positive. But he gave a ride to this kid when driving Superman's truck one evening. The next day Superman and I went out for a romantic lunch hour at Taco Bell (livin' large!) and I saw something shiny in the passenger side door pocket. You guessed it, the missing watches! Superman took them to the sheriff's office, Sproing was arrested for possession/receiving stolen goods. I'm pretty sure he knew nothing about the watches being in the truck until I found them. That kid probably left them there. Now Sproing has to go to trial to be exonerated on that charge. I hope that's what happens, anyway. If not, this violates his probation and he'll likely have to serve time, 1-6 years, in jail. I hope he gets out of this mess.

In the meantime, he had a birthday. He turned 18 last Sunday. This changes things legally, but I'm unclear on the specifics.

Sproing has been trying a little harder this week to find work. I think he wants to do the right thing, but sometimes... I don't know. Maybe I'm a bad influence on him. It isn't the same, me not working versus him not working, but he doesn't see it like that. But I feel guilt and other vague negative emotions about it.

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There are other things you probably want to know, or that I want to tell you, but this post is plenty long enough already, and I have pushed myself into a funk and don't have the gumption to write any more. That's "any more" not "anymore". There is a difference. These things become inordinately important to me when I have lost control of other parts of my life. Another example: there may be other things to say, and maybe I'll write another post soon. "May be" and "maybe", two different things.

What really matters?

Java, filter set to "random"

This must be the trick to actually writing a blog post, rather than just thinking about what you'll say in a blog post: when first you connect to the interwebs, do not open ANY other windows. Just the blogger "new post" window. That's all. Whatever you do, don't open email or facebork or Pinterest.

OMG Pinterest. It's a deep winding rabbit hole.

Why does habit have one "b" when rabbit has two?

So I went to the grocery store this morning. Well, it seemed like morning to me, but I didn't get my lazy ass out of bed until 11:00 so there you go. There's a new Mal-Wart on our side of town. I may have mentioned it before, I don't know. It's closer, and cleaner. Being new and all.

And guess who I ran into at Mal-Wart!? Mrs. Betty B! I haven't seen her in a few years, not since we stopped going to church about nine years ago. She said we should come visit the church, and I asked "Even if I'm apostate?" She smiled at me and said "Oh heavens! Why would you say that?" I just smiled. I saw her property on the map the other day and thought of her, wondered if she was even still alive. She's been old as long as I've known her (20 years, approximately) but she's still going strong, living independently, going to church. She's a sweet thing. I told her honestly that I love her.

I've been somewhat reclusive recently. If I have to go out for an appointment or something, I go. And while I'm out I might run another errand or two. Otherwise I stay home. This morning I got dressed and since I was dressed anyway I went to the store. We were out of bread. And sour cream. And, evidently, Little Debbie Nutty Bars, because they followed me home.

And Cheerios. I got the store brand of oat loops or whatever they're called from Aldi recently. They don't taste like real Cheerios. I've gotten the honey nut cereal, and the Aldi brand is OK, but has lots of sugar and I'm trying to cut back. (Pay no attention to the Nutty Bars behind the curtain.) So there I was in the cereal aisle (my but that's an odd word) looking for genuine General Mills Cheerios like Grandma used to make serve. Used to be you could walk down the cereal aisle and causally pick up the yellow box that says "Cheerios". Now there are at least half a dozen (I didn't count) different kinds of Cheerios. Even chocolate ones! Now I love chocolate, as you should know by now, but chocolate Cheerios seems mighty close to an abomination to me. Multi-grain are pretty good, actually, and of course there's the honey nut. I can't remember what other flavors I saw. Not counting the store brand and other brand oat Os. Goodness. Thankfully the original plain Cheerios still come in the familiar yellow box.

Mrs. Betty B asked after the family, of course. " So-and-so asked after ______" is a common southernism. Do y'all say it that way up North? Yes, we're doing well. Superman still works where he has since we moved here, Light is in Pennsylvania finishing her graduate degree. Twitch is at the local Arby's. Diva moved to be with her birth mother, which is a good thing (I hasten to tell her). Poor ol' Sproing has made some poor decisions and is awaiting trail at the county jail. Oh, poor Mrs. Betty B got so concerned. I hated to worry her so. Though she didn't say so, I'm pretty sure she'll pray for us. She's a sweet old thing, and I'm happy to have run into her.

Last weekend we visited the in-laws. It didn't even hurt too much. Actually, I behaved myself admirably. Everyone had other things to talk about and I'm good at the "smile and nod" thing. I can even ask pertinent questions sometimes. At one point the mil scolded Superman and gave him advice about Twitch. That was uncomfortable for both of us (probably not mil, though). I knat a little bit, starting a slouch hat/beanie thing. We saw the nieces, too. They are charming. The youngest one (in her first year of college) has potential to be a very interesting person. With her mother sitting beside her and in the presence of the grands, we were restricted to "polite" conversation.

I'll tell you something funny. My sister-in-law... well, she's a nice lady with many fine qualities. Very morally upright. She came in the house when I was in the back somewhere. She stood by the kitchen table, and when I came up the hall I saw her there, in high heeled boots (modest, mind you) and her hair all big like usual, makeup in top order. She's lost some weight so her midsection is nicely proportioned. She still has a considerable bust, which her fashionable clothing accentuated. With my glasses still on order I wore my contacts, which I'm not as accustomed to. My sil looked for all the world like a drag queen standing there in the kitchen. Oh but it was hard not to laugh! And of course I couldn't say anything about it, not in that company.

As I said, I've been reclusive recently. That means I've been in my room most of the time, reading books or being sucked down the interweb tube. Oh, and watching a little bit of the baseball playoff games. I am happy the Cubs won the National League Central Division title. Other than that, not much.

I watched the movie Boulevard, starring Robin Williams. I didn't know before I watched it, but it is an LGBT themed story. Bit of a tragic story, very well done. A serious role for Mr. Williams. He did those well. I mourn his passing. I just rented Night at the Museum - Secret of the Tomb, mainly to see him again.

And that's all I know.

Rolling Along

So I saw my doctor last week. She's leaving us!! This is the PA who came in when our long time family physician retired. I'm despondent. Anyway, she came into the exam room and noticed immediately that I look better, as in less stressed and stuff. So yeah, having those two young people out of my house is a good thing. But we knew that.

Last week I also saw my cancer doctor, the gynecological oncologist. He did a lab test thingie, the results of which I haven't heard yet, but the physical exam looked real good, he said. So onward and upward, or something.

Oh, there was this hurricane thing that happened out in the Atlantic east of here. South Carolina is all in the news about terrible flooding, the worst in 1000 years or something. Well, I'm fine. The yard is pretty sodden, the dog comes in from the back yard with mud on his paws. Otherwise, it's all good. That cannot be said about much of the state; check the news sources for details. The Java household is relatively unscathed.

Superman went with me to see the cancer doctor, because he's all concerned and stuff. We stopped for lunch at Panera, a treat because we have no such goodness here in Greenwood. And on the way home we got a call from Diva's birth mother Janice. Diva had broken one of Janice's rules and they had an animated disagreement about it. Diva had a boy over to the house while Janice was at work. OK, for me, when Diva lived here, that was not something I'd fuss about. She's going to do it anyway and I don't want to argue over that. Just not worth it to me. But not Janice. Don't know for sure why she called us, but we got an earful. And Janice said this was Diva's second strike. One more blatant disobedience and she was out. Well, I told her that Diva needs to find somewhere up there to live, someone else to live with, because we aren't taking her back. HA! I felt so strong.

Diva was nonchalant about having the boy over, about breaking a strict rule. I think that made Janice as mad as anything else. Diva doesn't like the rule, so she ignores it. It doesn't apply to her. She is above the rules. That child is gonna get into some big trouble one of these days. I am SO GLAD she doesn't live here anymore! While we were on the phone with them, I felt my heart rate increase. Perhaps my blood pressure went up too, I don't know. But there was this "ugh" feeling in my chest just listening to her holler. She was screaming at Janice as Janice was talking to us. *shudder*

We got a letter in today's mail informing us of Sproing's preliminary hearing to be held the afternoon of 20 October. I don't know how long after the preliminary hearing he'll have his trial. I hope they keep him in jail past his birthday in January. I don't want to deal with him, either.

So Superman and I are planning to visit his parents this weekend. These people are my in-laws, bless their hearts. I can do a couple of hours at a time with them and be fine. We're spending two days there, though. My mother-in-law and I are so very different. (My Mama and I are very different, too, but in different ways.) I'm easily annoyed by the m-i-l. For instance, she asked Superman yesterday what time we'd be arriving on Friday. (He's taking the day off work, so we'll leave here Friday.) Well, gosh, I don't know what time we'll get there! I don't know what time we'll leave here. It depends on how the morning rolls. I'm not a big planner. She is. And if we give her an estimate, she will expect us to be there exactly then.

If she was the one making the trip, she'd be all packed up the night before, everything in the car, probably. She'd set the alarm clock to get up precisely at (whatever time she thinks appropriate). A quick breakfast would transpire, and they'd be out the door and on their way at precisely the time she planned. And she'd show up on our doorstep at precisely the time (give or take 5 minutes, no more for sure) she said she'd be here. And expect me to have a full meal (meat and three, dessert, etc.) ready to go on the table as soon as they pull up. And berate me if everything wasn't ready, even if I'd cut my thumb so bad it needed stitches whilst preparing said meal. (True story there) And I, being the ever patient loving daughter-in-law that I am (-rolls eyes-) would refrain from telling her that if she doesn't like what's here, there's a Burger King just around the corner and she can get the fuck out of my house. No, I did not say that, but I thought it. I took a deep breath and turned away from her. And I finally got dinner on the table maybe half an hour later (don't remember exactly; it was a good 20 years ago), still with my bleeding thumb wrapped in a rag. And I ate dinner with them with my thumb throbbing. Then I went to the doctor's office to have it stitched up.

I may have some lingering animosity about that event. I still have the scar on my thumb.

She really is a very nice lady.  A fine person, thoughtful and hard working. We just have different priorities, different perspectives on the world. And very different sociopolitical philosophies. My stars, there are so many things we can't discuss when we're visiting them. And I can't cuss, either. Thankfully there was this hurricane thing this past weekend, so that'll give us a safe topic to discuss. I will, however, most likely go to the Baptist Church on Sunday morning. That should be... fun. I like the singing. It only lasts an hour.

This afternoon I mentioned to Superman my qualms about the upcoming visit. He said "You have put up with Diva and Sproing for all these years. You can deal with anything." I appreciate his faith in me.

Once again, here I am

So much has happened, but my heart hasn't been into the writing of it. However, I want to stay in contact with this blog. And damn it all, as so often happens once I get to this point all my ideas flee my head.

I think I need a nap.

I took a nap. Some time passed between those last two sentences.

Diva is once again living with her birth mother in Spartanburg. Her bedroom here has been transformed. First of all, Cory did a spiritual cleansing (and physical cleaning) of the space.

Wait, who's Cory? you ask. I have previously referred to him a C. He's the young man who started my whole gay journey, the one who moved in with us at age 17 when he came out to his mom and she kicked him out of her home. He has lived here off and on for the last almost ten years. And oh yeah, he has moved back in as of the 31st of August. Just a week or so after Diva left, coincidentally.

So, Diva's room: it got cleaned and cleansed, then Superman and I painted it blue. It's never been blue before, not since we've lived here. It's been green, pink and purple, yellow and purple, but not blue. After the distructo-child lived there, poisoning it with her hatred, that room needed a big change. It looks damned good, if I do say so myself. Cory lives there now. Diva knows she no longer has a room here, which hopefully will encourage her to NOT COME BACK!!

Now, for Sproing. He's in jail. Big people jail, not kiddie jail. The first day of school for the kids here was the 17th of August. Sproing skipped school that day and, unbeknownst to me, went with a friend of his to the home of another acquaintance and burgled the house. They broke in through a window and stole not one but two Play Stations (PS4s, I think). Plus the peripherals like cords, controllers and a couple of games. That was a Monday. That Thursday a couple of detectives from the police department came by to ask if I knew anything. I had seen the things, not knowing from whence they came. So the detectives went to the school and "interviewed" Sproing. He was taken to the county detention center from there and I haven't seen him since. He's been charged with second degree burglary and grand larceny (>$2000 but < $10,000).  I requested that he be kept there rather than let out on bail. The judge set his bail at $30,000. So there he sits.

Actually he is supposed to be in court tomorrow on his charge of credit card fraud for stealing almost $900 from us. I'm not going to worry about it. If they need him there, they'll have to walk him across the street from the detention center to the court house. I'm not sure when he's to appear for the new burglary and larceny charges. I'm not the victim on record for those.

And here's the thing. For a long time I've had hope for that kid. He's relatively intelligent. Stupid as shit in the unwise sense, but smart otherwise. He also talks a good talk. He's been stringing me along all summer, promising to look for a job and making a show of it, but not really doing anything. He said all sorts of inspiring things about starting school and being on track, etc. He had a conference with his guidance counselor the second day of school. They made grand plans for him to graduate next January, just half a year behind schedule. He sounded good. But the day before that discussion he had seriously broken the law.

He betrayed me. Or I allowed myself to be hoodwinked and thus feel betrayed. Diva has been a hot mess for the longest time and I have little hope of her being a responsible citizen, but I thought Spoing had the stuff to deliver.

So I am D O N E with him. I'm angry and hurt. I spoke to him on the phone a couple of times the first week he was incarcerated. He wanted me to arrange a meeting with the judge to try to work something out so he could be out on bail. HA! I said No. He's been there three weeks as of today. Funny, it seems like longer. Hmph, probably feels like longer to him, too. GOOD!! Anyway, I wrote him a letter yesterday and sent $20 (in a Postal Money Order only) for his canteen account. I called the jail to ask how I could visit him, and the nice lady said I had to be on an approved visitor list; he has to add me, but he needs to know my name, birth date, phone number, and drivers license number. Yeah, he won't know that one. But I asked about sending him stamps and envelopes so he can write to me, but she said nope. I can send money and he can buy those supplies in the canteen. So I sent some money. Which he'll probably spend on chips and soda. Anyway, I'll call in a few days and see if I'm on his visitor list. I'm about ready to talk to him again, but have only recently reached this point. Superman isn't ready to talk to him yet.

If he ends up staying in jail until (or past) January 24th, he won't move back home. That's his 18th birthday, and after he's 18 we aren't legally obligated to providing a home for him. Since he confessed to his involvement with the burglary I guess he'll plead guilty unless he gets a public defender who convinces him otherwise. The stolen goods were retrieved from this house, though, where he said he'd hid them, so I don't think he has a defense. Anyway, if convicted I predict he'll spend at least 12 months in jail, maybe more. He's in the county jail now. After conviction, though, I don't know if he'll stay in the jail or go to prison. As I was recently informed, there's a difference.

I never thought I'd be having this discussion about one of my children. It turns my stomach.

So the house has been peaceful for a couple of weeks since Diva left. Twitch is here still, and Cory's here now. They are so much more calm than Diva and Sproing! My life has, for now anyway, eased somewhat. The stress level is much lower. I'm still in shock, or something like it. Don't think I'll relax until both of them turn 18. Diva hits the big "adult" on 4 December.

In the meantime I'm not sure what I'm doing. Working on Diva's room was helpful. Actually I got to go through all her stuff. She'd left everything at the home of a friend when she left for Spartanburg, and Superman retrieved it from there. We had it here for a few days before we were "able" to get it to her. I cleaned out a lot of junk. Seriously, empty shampoo and deodorant containers? I had Cory go through her shirts to get rid of what he thought was unsuitable. I wanted that done but wasn't quite able to do it myself. Now it's all NOT in my house. I went through Sproing's stuff too. He has significantly less than she did.

The next project is to make changes to his old room similar to what we did to hers. Not sure what color(s) to paint it. Diva's room is light smoky blue on three walls, slightly darker on the 4th wall. We might do something like that with the colors for Sproing's old room, or paint it one color. Do any of you have suggestions? I won't go with purple again, not that I don't (or didn't) like that color, but after Diva it has some negative associations for me. Also no red. I don't do red, not in large swaths like that.

I'm rambling. I want to comment on Jay's suicide, but I'm not sure what to say. It hurts. Hurts more this week than it did last week, for some reason. As I said to a couple of other bloggers, it's a tragic situation all around.

I've had trouble this week getting anything done. Tuesday was somewhat productive, but yesterday and today I haven't done jack. Can't seem to get myself out of bed. I finally showered at 5:15 yesterday evening. Haven't bathed today. I did get dressed, though. Yay me. I made a list Tuesday of things to do yesterday. And there it sits, waiting for me to do something. Maybe tomorrow.

And that's about all I have to say right now. Writing this blog post has been the most productive thing I've done today. I'm gonna call that a win.