In which we discuss dragons and beatings among other things

"Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." -- G.K. Chesterton

**

Never a dull moment around here. Unfortunately. Oh, for some of it I am grateful, but for some I'd like it to stop. Just stop. And go away. 


We'll start with Diva. Of course. The short story: Superman got both of the youngsters phones a few weeks ago. Sproing, it's a good idea for him to have a phone. Diva not so much. Not much at all. And I told him this, but he proceeded. She had the phone for maybe a week before she sent and received sexually explicit texts. She was exchanging texts with some guy I'd never heard of. On the advice of her former probation officer (she's off probation now, but this lady is a good resource) I called the police. That's the end of the short story, but I want to tell you more, so the next paragraph will be more and you can skip it if you'd like. 


The police officer saw the questionable photos (there was some video she'd taken of herself, too. Ick.) and wondered about the age of the young man who'd sent a way-too-complete picture of himself. All this took place on the kids' last day of school, last Wednesday. The officer took the phone and a copy of our rules for cell phone use* to the school to talk to Diva. Hee hee. It was "field day" at school, all the kids were outside or in the gym doing fun activities, etc. The officer (he told me later) went in and had a teacher call out Diva, and he and Diva had a little talk. When he brought the cell phone back he told me she was spitting mad. I suspected she would be. I had told him of her previous run-in with the law in which she assaulted me, so he warned her not to take this out on us physically. If he heard about her attacking me (or Superman) he'd come and haul her to jail. By the time she got home from school (about two hours later) she had calmed down to the point that she didn't want to interact with us at all, which was fine with me. She spent the afternoon in her room. Later that afternoon I heard back from the officer that the young man she'd been texting may be older than he looked. The next day a detective came by and we discussed that briefly. The stupid idiot may be an adult, if he's the one they suspect. The detective said that maybe nothing will come of it, as Diva and the old-enough-to-know-better SOB didn't actually hook up. I allowed as how I didn't necessarily want him to get in trouble, but a good scare would do him a world of good. One of Diva's messages to him asked if he was going to "come over and fuck me next week."  


So Diva no longer has her phone. She will not be getting it back any time within the foreseeable future. And I can foresee a pretty long way. 


Poor Superman. He wants for his daughter to be a normal, sweet, fun-loving girl. And he pretends she is, which is where trouble starts. I told him yesterday (after yet another major inconvenience but not-quite-disaster of her making) that he has got to stop pretending she is normal. It leads to trouble. Though yesterday's mishap was partly Superman's doing. He was treating her as a normal child and allowed her too much leeway. He tries so hard. Unfortunately she is NOT normal, and his attempts often go the wrong way. Sigh
Let's move on to other drama that has nothing to do with Diva. 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Both of my gay children, C and Light, are currently in relationships but it's complicated. Light has been engaged to her girlfriend for little over a year, I think, but now that Light is at school in Pennsylvania the relationship is long-distance. And the girlfriend isn't a good communicator under the best of circumstances. They recently dissolved their engagement, but are still together, sort of. You know, it's complicated. And my dear darling Light is hurting. This is hard on her. I wish I could make it better, but I can't. And this sort of experience is necessary for personal growth, so I must not try to fix anything. I just sympathize, and hurt for her pain. 


C has been involved in this pseudo-relationship thing for a few months now. There's this ... boy, really. He just turned 18 in December. C sort of fell in love with him. I told you about him before, called him The Youngster, I think. But The Youngster isn't in love with C, and has been up front about that all along. He likes C, but only as a friend. Well, until recently C and The Youngster had been hanging out together a lot for the past couple of months, but The Youngster went back to his mom's house to help her out. Since then his communications with C have gradually become less frequent and less ... intimate might be too strong a word. C senses that The Youngster is pulling back. I think (for what it's worth) that C has been too solicitous, done too many sweet loving sacrificial things for this kid. It's like he's trying to make The Youngster love him. That does NOT work! And it's a lesson C has to learn for himself. Yesterday was C's 24th birthday. He needs to make friends with people his own age. And The Youngster is from troubled circumstances with associated emotional difficulties, etc. As my therapist said, If they're broken when you pick them up, they are going to stay broken. (Or something like that.) The same applies to falling for drunks and abusers, which happens all the time. I want better for C. He needs to want better for himself. The Youngster is a nice kid. I like him. But he is not a good match for C. IMHO, he has a lot of growing up to do before he is ready for a serious relationship. 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Light's had a rough time of it recently. Her cat got away. He was an inside-outside cat when he lived here, but has been exclusively inside since they moved to Pennsylvania last August. Last Monday Light took out the garbage and the cat snuck out. She didn't realize he was gone until he did not wake her up by sticking his nose in her face Tuesday morning. She's looked around the neighborhood, left food on the porch for him, made "lost" signs, etc. but so far he hasn't returned. She is sad. 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I think I broke my toe Friday evening. I was walking through the dark house and stubbed my right pinkie toe on the leg of a chair. I hit it HARD! Yeah, it hurt. And it kept hurting. It hurt all night Friday. I took some ersatz Tylenol PM before bed Friday and slept pretty well despite the pain, but it hurt in my dreams, if you know what I mean. The damn thing hurt all day yesterday, too. It hurts to put weight on that side of my foot. The foot is swollen top and bottom, and the toe itself is fat and black and blue. I had Superman draw a circle around the bruise last night, and sure enough, the bruise has spread since then. I think bruises do that, though. Anyway, it hurt last night, too, and today it hurts, but not as much. Well, not as much if I don't try to move it. I have stayed off of it and kept it elevated all weekend. (translation: I've been lying around on my ass all weekend.) Didn't hurt too bad when I stood on it this morning at first, but after a little while it hurt more again, so I sat down. I watched the Braves beat the Nationals 3-2 this afternoon. That was fun. I've been putzing around on the computer all weekend, too. 


I'll probably try to get in to see the doctor tomorrow. There's nothing to be done for a broken pinkie toe anyway. They might buddy tape it to the next toe to try to keep it stationary. Of course I could do that myself, but right now I'm just lying on my lazy ass not moving anything anyway. I have a Netflix instant-view movie booted up to watch after my haircut which I'll get after I post this. 


Yeah, Superman is going to buzz my hair again with the 1" guard on his hair clippers. The hair has gotten long enough to hold in the heat. It's hot here in The South, so I'm going to shave my head. Well, shave plus 1". It looks pretty butch, but not terribly weird. 


Oh, in other gender-bending news, some junkie bum called me "sir" a couple of weeks ago. I went to Baltimore (again) to be with Indigo after his mother died. Had a good trip. It was helpful, productive, and the right thing to do. But I had a bit of trouble getting out of downtown Baltimore onto the freeway toward Washington, and drove in circles around the junkie bum areas for half an hour or so. Some guy wanted me to give him money, and called me "sir" when asking. I told him no, but got a kick out of his perception. 


OK, on to the haircutting. Ta ta for now (ttfn). 


*GROUND RULES FOR CELL PHONES

1.     Cell phone use is a privilege, not a right.  As such, it can be withheld under some circumstances.

2.     The phones belong to the parents.  We supplied them and we are paying for them. 

3.     The phones are to be used for reasonable communication only.  No explicit, harmful, or illegal use of the phone will be tolerated. That means do not talk or text anything that is sexual. Do not make threats to anyone by text or talk. Don’t use the phone to bully anyone. Don’t talk or text anything that is illegal. For example, don’t try to hook up with someone for sex, don’t talk or text about buying, selling, or taking drugs or alcohol.  If the phone is used to make such calls or send such messages, it will be taken and kept for a period of a few days up to several weeks.  Getting it back will depend on:

a.      How bad the message was;

b.     How many were sent;

c.     What kind of fallout there was from the message;

d.     Whether this was a first offense;

e.      How you behave while the phone is off-limits.

4.     The phones will be turned over to parents at bedtime each night.

5.     On school days, the phones will be available as soon as you arrive home each afternoon.  On the weekend and school vacations the phones will be available after 9:00 a.m.

6.     You will be expected to take the phone with you if you leave the house after coming home from school.  Being able to contact you at our convenience is a major consideration for getting the phones in the first place. Do not ignore calls from your parents! You must answer the phone when we call you!

7.     You will NOT allow other children to use your phone.  If a friend needs to get in touch with another person, and you decide that is all right, YOU will make the call for your friend.  Having you in control of the phone will make sure that someone else does not send inappropriate messages using your number.  Keep in mind that there are legal issues involved.

8.     Please also understand that T-Mobile keeps records of all text messages sent for a period of up to 90 days.  So if we want to find out what you texted, erasing it from the phone will not help to conceal it. So don’t bother to erase messages.

9.     DO NOT MISUSE YOUR PHONE!

We read through this with both kids and had each of them sign our copy, agreeing that they read and understand the rules. And Diva abuses the privilege the second week she had the phone. Oy. 

** If you haven't seen "How to Train Your Dragon" you must do so at your earliest convenience. 

"He ain't wrong, he's just different..."

"They'd rather give you a song than diamonds or gold." That works well for me. I'd much rather have a song than diamonds or gold. Think I'll be a cowboy when I grow up.

I like Willie Nelson's music. I also like his hair.

OK, on to more mundane and depressing things. Like, for instance, I am home again. And depressed again. It's true, this place sucks the life force from my soul. To accomplish anything I must climb a steep hill of sand.

"Sand" was the first word I ever saw Light read. She was 4, I think.

Last night's saga: Diva asked us at 6:50 last night if she could go over to the park at the Civic Center, not far from our house. She said she'd be back at 7:30. Superman said she didn't have time, she'd have to turn around and come back as soon as she got there in order to return by 7:30. "I'll take the shortcut." Whatever. Go on. So of course she wasn't home by 7:30, but I didn't expect her to be. I did, however, expect her to be back by the 8:00 curfew. But she wasn't home then, either. She finally schlepped in at 9:30, having been out with her friend. When informed that she was grounded for the weekend she was shocked, shocked! to receive such punishment. Child, it's very simple: break the rule, suffer the consequence. But for some reason only her twisted mind understands, she doesn't think she deserves the punishment.

So she slammed her bedroom door lots of times. Superman told her to quit slamming the door, and she said "it's already broken so who cares?" Well, she broke it even more. I can't remember the exact words that set it off, but she got up in Superman's face and threatened him and he moved toward her in response. I was on the phone with my Mama but aware of the discord. Sproing came running in to me and said "Mom! Come help!" I was afraid one of them had hit the other, but thankfully it didn't come to that. Superman was walking away from her room when I approached. Steam blew out his ears, his head was red. I told him to take a walk. Diva finished getting ready for bed and was tucked away by the time her dad came back. At one point in there I told her to do something and she snapped "You ain't my mama." I said "I'm the only mama you have right now." Received a lovely scowl for that comment. She managed to get through the evening without physically attacking anyone, and so did Superman and I.

I worry about Sproing. As Superman commented this morning, we think he is afraid of her. Not just afraid of her, but scared, fearful of being harmed. I know her extreme behavior upsets him. I started to make some comment to her this morning and he looked at me with wide eyes and mouthed "don't!" shaking his "stop" hands for emphasis. As aggravated as I was with him yesterday (another story I'll probably not get to) he really is a sweet kid and I feel for him.

But it's time to pursue other living arrangements for her. I know, we've been talking about that for months, nay years. Our service coordinator is supposed to be able to help us arrange to put her in a group home or something similar. That means lots more paperwork, but boy, will it be worth it!! This child is trouble.

We need a new blog post here

I must tell you that I am faring much better than I was when I wrote the previous post. Also, the previous post may have been influenced by hormones just a little bit. Which is not to say that the previous post was not in many ways accurate, however, but I have come down from being quite that close to the brink. I'm coping a little better.

I am also not at home once again. Some of you are familiar with my dear friend Indigo. His mother died after an extended illness (COPD, a terrible way to go) last week. After talking to him on the phone Thursday I realized that yes, he really needed me to be with him. So Friday very early I got in the car and drove to Baltimore, from whence I type. Actually, I will leave very soon, within the hour even, but I felt compelled to write a brief (as brief as it gets with me, which is a dodgy proposition) update on my life, or something like it.

I will drive this afternoon from Baltimore to Richmond, VA where I will spend the evening and overnight with a dear cousin of mine. I haven't seen her since her wedding a few years ago, and have never met the most precious little boy in the world (I have it on good authority - his mother - that this is true of him). So that is where I will rest tonight, then on to South Carolina Monday morning.

And I am away from home once again, as I mentioned. This is significant because I am, once again, thinking with perhaps a clearer mind. I have some ideas, even some inspiration maybe, about my immediate future (within 6 months, say). Note to self: explore ideas of creating interesting fun stuff to sell on Etsy to make enough money to pay my student loan bills. Also, the radical idea of going to seminary to prepare for work in the Unitarian Universalist worship tradition or something similar. Wow. Where did that come from?! We will be discussing these things in future posts, mayhaps.

To continue the original trajectory of the previous paragraph, my mind works differently, with what feels like more clarity, when I am not at home. And here's my theory: those young crazy people who share my last name suck the energy from my soul and cloud my mind with troublesome trivia. It feels like I'm walking into a trap when I go back home. It isn't only my children, either. I strongly suspect the town/city of Greenwood and the state of South Carolina play a role in this strangulation of my soul. Unfortunately, I must go home and I must work in my home and on my home to enable myself and the family to break free from The South (TM) and it's nefarious influences. I understand that with clarity when I am not there. It's harder to see that when I'm up to my ass in alligators in that particular swamp.

These are the things I wish to share with you now. I will finish packing my stuff and get on the road south now. I hope to get back here before too long to continue the saga of whatever the hell this life is.

Fondly,
-Java

Back to something like my life

I have been away. I am now back. If I change one little letter in the previous sentence it says "I am not back" which is how my fingers typed it the first time. My fingers Freudian slipped.

I was away for 11 days visiting Light, then Indigo, then driving through the Blue Ridge Mountains. While away I was alive. The day I came back (Tuesday evening) and the following morning I was alive and angry. Angry at how we live here in this house, angry at the complacency everyone shows about the many nouns that are out of place. Concrete and abstract nouns. For example: the disambiguated door leaning against the wall by the kitchen. It has no purpose besides stubbing toes. The pervasive stench of sour urine throughout the house caused by Diva's bed wetting and her failure to wash her bedclothes when she wakes up wet. The antagonism my children have for each other, for us as their parents, and for the world in general. Yes, I was angry. But everything is fine now. The enormity of it all has overwhelmed me once again until I am numb on the surface. HELP! I'm suffocating in this stultifying* miasma** that is my life. I hardly recognize the woman who just two days ago was driving through the Appalachian Mountains, full of life, determination, and confidence. I almost can't remember the feeling of that indignant anger. I certainly don't feel it anymore. All I feel is sadness. No, more like despondency.*** 


Perhaps I don't drink enough. I have a drawer full of beer in my refrigerator. To numb the pain of this numbness I could become a drunk. Not just an occasional drinker, but a drunk. I know that's a bad idea in the long run. The argument I tell myself against such foolishness is almost the same as the argument I use for not killing myself. Does anyone else see a red flag there?

What can be done? Nothing. Refer to the definitions of stultify, miasma, and despondent.

Please take me away from here!


*stultify - to render absurdly or wholly futile or ineffectual, especially by degrading or frustrating means.
** miasma - a dangerous, foreboding, or deathlike influence or atmosphere.
***despondent - feeling or showing profound hopelessness, dejection, discouragement, or gloom.
-from Dictionary.com

On Being Trespassed Against

I am a very forgiving person. It's nearly impossible for me to hold a grudge. Nearly. But not entirely. To do so requires that the transgressor hurt me very much, probably repeatedly.

And she has.

Superman and I attended a meeting last Friday concerning Diva, who is almost finished with her term of probation. We met with a few service providers to revise her mental healthcare treatment plan. Besides us, the attendees included the local representative from the state department overseeing the care of emotionally disturbed children, Diva's counselor from the department of mental health, her Department of Juvenile Justice (DJJ) probation "counselor"*, and the young woman who provides rehabilitative psycho-social services. To review: Me, Superman, that woman, that woman, the young woman, and the other lady. To give you perspective, we are older than all these other women. Our children, including the one who was the subject of the meeting, are older than the children of these other women. One of the ladies doesn't have children. They are all trained and educated about children, though, so doesn't that make us feel better. (No)

I'll cut to the ridiculous part. To boost Diva's confidence, it was decided around us that we should surprise Diva with a celebration for not breaking the law for these past months since October when she was released from the DJJ evaluation center. That nice woman is bringing a cake. We'll provide the ice cream. This will happen on Tuesday afternoon. The probation counselor will bring the paperwork officially ending Diva's probation. Only her counselor will not be able to attend, but all the other ladies will be there. Honestly, I'm not feeling it.

To her credit, Diva controls some of her impulses better than she did before. She hasn't struck out violently since she assaulted me in September. She'll cuss like a sailor with the slightest provocation, but she hasn't hit anyone as far as I am aware. She can't disagree with us without screaming in our faces. That gets really tiring very quickly.

Friday was the end of a very difficult week for us. On Tuesday Diva and I got into an argument about her having a cell phone. (We told her she couldn't, she bought a cheapo one anyway). I tried and failed to cook hamburgers, resulting in a visit from the nice local firemen. No flames, just a lot of smoke and a security system that alerts the powers-that-be to said smoke. Thursday I got insanely mad at Sproing for ruining my chance to go out for the evening with my lovely husband. By Friday I was convinced I couldn't parent these maniacs anymore. Cut to the meeting where well-meaning but clueless young women tell us how to parent these maniacs.

I cried. I railed. I told all of them that we just can't handle it anymore. Well, shit, they don't want to handle these little fuckers any more than we do. Their collective goal is to keep this wonderful family together. Shit. They said Very Encouraging Things. They said that much of what our 14 year olds do is fairly typical; the rebellion, the snitty attitudes, the backtalk, the lack of respect. Humph. I've already raised two children to adulthood, and neither of them had behavior this intense. Though at a very rough spot in my life when Twitch was 14 or 15 one of his tantrums pushed me over the edge (I was damned close already) and I spent a few days in the psych ward at the hospital. I am much better medicated now. Nevertheless, Twitch at his worst was nothing like this. (Light at her worst was hardly a bump in the road, but that's Light.)

Back to the point: Young Women said Diva and Sproing's behavior isn't atypical. Then one of them said "though most parents haven't dealt with this intensity for 7 years." Bingo! Diva committed her first felony at the tender age of 9. Sproing was a holy terror for his 2nd grade teacher, and I was at school more often than not. And his behavior at school wasn't much different from what we experienced at home. It's been the same shit, different day, for years and years and years.

I don't think about all of that very often. I can't if I want to survive today.

Remember that part about Diva assaulting me? When she punched me repeatedly in the chest and back, leaving bruises? And hasn't apologized for it? And doesn't show a scrap of remorse for anything? Yeah. That was the straw that broke my back. It was a big straw, yet the pile was huge before she laid that one on. She has never shown remorse for anything, for years and years, except getting caught and punished. She ain't right.

I am not the kind of person who keeps score of offenses against me. As I said at the beginning, I am a very forgiving person. But at some point my well of forgiveness runs out. I have taken into account that she is a child. That she is my child. I used to love her. I still do, after a fashion. I care about what happens to her, where she goes, what influences she is subjected to. I don't want her to be in danger. I want her to have the things that she needs. But I don't think I can provide that care for her. She is slowly killing my spirit.

It's too much. I've been told (by experts, no less**) that I need to move beyond her past behaviors, to forgive her. To wipe the slate clean and start anew. No. I have been hurt too deeply. I cannot open myself, make myself vulnerable to her in the way that I "should" as a parent. Love requires a certain vulnerability. Parenting requires patience and a "long view" perspective. Since she was 4 years old Diva has been consistently odd, and not in a good way. She has NEVER... N E V E R exhibited remorse. Almost never does she accept any kind of punishment, because she is not wrong. Rules don't apply to her, therefore consequences shouldn't apply either. So the "long view" from age 4 to 14 shows disturbing consistency. Perhaps in another 10 years she'll have matured into an emotionally healthy young woman, but I can't see that happening. I know other children (besides my own) who are now adults. Certain personality traits are consistent throughout their lives. The things I am trying to describe about Diva are the things that don't change significantly.

I feel as though I need to scream from the rooftops so that someone, anyone will hear me and understand. I. Can't. Do. This. Any. More. All of these well trained service providers just don't get it. Nothing I've said seems to have made a difference to them. They see segments of her behavior and think "that's not so bad." Maybe not, but it is for me. Or it's been going on long enough to have broken me. Perhaps I'm just not strong enough. Not good enough. Whatever. I don't care. Take her away. I can no longer stand the pain she brings. I can't turn off my give-a-shit so that she doesn't hurt me anymore. I'm too good a parent for that. And that renders me unqualified to parent her.

*Newspeak: DJJ doesn't have probation officers, they have probation counselors. Doesn't that make us all feel better? (No)

** Some of these experts are even older and more experience than I, though not experienced at living with Diva. 'Nuf said.

Beginning with a quote

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. -Albert Schweitzer, philosopher, physician, musician, Nobel laureate (1875-1965) 
..........................................
So let's wrap up the camping trip. We planned to stay Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights. I posted about the trip last Tuesday. Tuesday evening it got uncomfortably cold and quite windy. Tuesday night in the tent was too cold, so we packed up Wednesday and came home. I read a book most of the afternoon Tuesday and into the evening as well. By the time I finished the book it was late and too cold and windy to stoke up the grill for hamburgers, so we went into Hendersonville to BK for a snack. 


Wednesday morning we did the breakfast thing. I taught Sproing how to make scrambled eggs. The way I do it when camping is to put the eggs and anything else I want to add into a quart size zip closure plastic bag. I seal the bag, then squish everything together through the bag. That's lots o' fun! I put the bag into boiling water, taking care not to let the plastic drape over the side of the pot, because the heat from the camp stove (or fire, if applicable) melts the bag. Yep, learned that the hard way. The eggs cook in the bag and comes out all fluffy and omelette-y. Take care that the eggs cook completely. It takes a while for the center of the stuff to cook. Personally, I like to wrap the scrambled egg into a flour tortilla shell for a breakfast burrito. Sproing likes his on a plate. 


We cleaned up after breakfast and began to break camp. That sounds so violent! We took down the tent, put stuff in boxes and whatnot, laid a tarp in the truck bed, and filled it up with all our stuff. Sproing tried to help me secure the tie-downs over the load, but got a bit of grit in his eye. Did I mention the wind was still strong? It was painful, and I didn't appreciate the gravity of the situation as much as he thought I should. We fussed at each other. He got in the truck and eventually napped on the way home. His eye and his attitude were much better when he woke up. 


The week before our camping trip the weather here in Greenwood was unseasonably warm. I was eager to get to the cooler temps of the mountains. Unfortunately for us, the temperature adjusted to seasonably appropriate in the entire Southeast, so it was too cool in the mountains and very comfortable here in the Piedmont. Perhaps when the kids are out for summer break we can try the camp thing again and get some relief from the heat without freezing our collective asses off. 
........................................
To continue our weather discussion, this week is once again warmer here in Greenwood. It isn't too terribly bad, just in the high 70s, mid 80s (approx. 25-30C). The people who do these things are predicting rain later today and on for the next couple of days, and indeed the humidity is creeping up into the uncomfortable range. I bring this up specifically because our air conditioner isn't working. Again. This doesn't surprise me, necessarily. It's an older system and has caused us problems in the past. Irritates me, though. We've discussed here how I don't handle the heat well. 
.....................................
My darling Light was in state this past weekend!! She came down to attend the wedding of a school chum of hers. I was her "plus 1" for the wedding, as her girlfriend wasn't able to attend. It was a lovely event, held at a beautiful event location place in Asheville with lovely mountain views. The weather was perfect. The wedding was small and comfortable. The brother of the bride is a friend of mine from school, an art major at my most recent alma mater. He graduates next week himself. He's also cute, and funny, and he's my pretend boyfriend (one of many), though I don't think he knows it. The bride was beautiful, the groom looked shifty. I liked his best man, though. 


Oh, but the point is that Light was here! She stayed with her girlfriend in Spartanburg. The family went to visit her on Sunday, had a wonderful time. She drove back up to Pennsylvania yesterday, arriving shortly after midnight according to the text she sent me. I haven't heard from her yet today. Hope she's resting. Her car was giving her a bit of trouble. Most immediately he needs new brakes: pads and rotors and a fluid change. She got the oil changed and went back home with her fingers crossed. Her Daddy is going to send her some money to help with the car repair expenses. Her Daddy is a Super Man, imho. 
.................................................
Let's discuss today's quote. To review: In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. -Albert Schweitzer, philosopher, physician, musician, Nobel laureate (1875-1965) 
My "inner flame" has a tendency to flicker out sometimes. I am an introvert, I keep to myself a lot. In doing so, I focus on the negative and lose touch with the more vibrant aspects of my personality. I don't like people, and want them to leave me alone. However, there are persons who inspire me to do my best, who "rekindle the inner spirit" as Dr. Schweitzer says. You know that line in "Men In Black" where K says "A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals and you know it." It's those "people" I don't like. I do like many individual persons, but tend to keep myself secluded and end up avoiding the ones who will do me good. This quote reminds me to reach out, make contact with the world, find people who are good for me. 


That is all. 

Forgetting to Remember

To: me
From: Superman
Subject: Happy Anniversary
7:12 AM
You just looked so cute lying there asleep, I couldn't bear to wake you.

After my deal at the orthopedist, I'll drop by the house.

Love you bunches!

Da Hubsband

And he brought me three red roses, one for each decade. Isn't he the sweetest guy? We've been married 29 years now. It just gets better. 

And I had forgotten our anniversary completely. Totally. Didn't have a clue. I remembered 29-A last month, the anniversary of our official legal wedding. Today is 29-B, the anniversary of the day we had the "pretty" church wedding that my mother wanted. 

He took me out to lunch today, too. We went to our default restaurant, the locally owned pizza place that does brick oven pizza and specialty beers. Good stuff! 

Oh, and his deal at the orthopedist was getting a cortisone shot in his shoulder, the one he did not have surgery on to repair his rotator cuff six years ago. And he does not need surgery on this shoulder, thankfully. He's got some inflammation in the ligaments, that's all. In case you wondered. 

I need to write a follow-up to the camping adventure. That will come soon. Really. 

 

Vacation, or something like it

Guess what? I'm on an impromptu vacation of sorts. The kidlets are out of school on spring break this week, and I wanted to do something to keep them occupied. I also wanted to go camping. 1+1= camping! It's only Sproing and me. This sort of thing is so not Diva. She made a disgusted face when I suggested it. So I said, "Fine, you don't have go." Which means she's at home by herself during the day, which is not an ideal situation. But she isn't with us, either, and that is ideal. Her stinking attitude would ruin this trip for me and Sproing.

According to Superman, who has to work this week, Diva is thrilled to be Sproing-free. Sproing is just as thrilled to be Diva-free. Sproing and I get along pretty well when it's just the two of us. He brought his bike and is having fun riding all over the campground.

We arrived yesterday (Monday). The only way I knew today was Tuesday was taking my meds from the week-long pill organizer I use. "It's time for my morning meds. Wait, it's Tuesday?"

We're in the mountains, of course. Heck, is there any other place worth camping? (Rhetorical question. My answer: no.) It's a bit cool yet, not hot enough back home to need an escape from the heat. But this is an escape from Diva and home, so it works. We got here yesterday afternoon, set up the tent. It's an "instant tent" or whatever they call it. Sets up in about 3 minutes. All the poles are permanently attached and unfold from the center hub, sort of like a 4-legged spider. I've wanted one of these babies for a couple of years. Our old tent was worn out so we got to get this new one.

I'm sleeping on an air mattress. It's pretty comfortable except for the part where I have to fight from falling off the side. Our site isn't quite as level as it looked when I was vertical. Think I'll rearrange the orientation of the mattress tonight so that my feet are downhill, my head uphill. Sproing is in a sleeping bag on the floor (on insulated pads) and he rolled up against the side of the tent during the night.

The weather is beautiful. It's a bit cool at night. I really didn't want to get out from under my covers this morning. I might sleep in my clothes tonight so I don't have to get dressed in the cold tomorrow. It was only about 47 F (8 C) when we woke up this morning, which isn't too bad except when you're sleeping in it. The sun is out now (early afternoon) and it's warming up nicely. Comfortably cool in the shade, not too warm in the sun.

Our camp site is right beside the creek. It's beautiful!

 Sproing is having a blast jumping from rock to rock. Makes me a bit nervous, but he just says "Aw, Mom!" and does it fine anyway. Mostly. He hasn't broken a leg or fallen completely into the creek. He's splashed water on his ass and stumbled in the water a little. I walked on the rocks and waded in the water a little bit yesterday. It was warm, I got hot with all the camp set-up, and my feet were hot. The water felt so good! Then it felt so cold! 

This morning we went into Asheville to get a few supplies. We're maybe 15 miles east/southeast of Asheville here, perhaps a bit closer to Hendersonville. We came through Hendersonville, so decided to go up to Asheville today. Found a Wal-Mart, got some frozen burgers (because the ones I bought in preparation for the trip were inadvertently left in the freezer at home) and a small coffee maker. More about that in a minute. This is what we saw in the parking lot at the W-M.

I was so excited! I parked about this close to it, much to Sproing's dismay. Silly boy. I love this VW camper! It's the Westfalia, probably mid '70s model. My grandparents had one similar, but an earlier model when the front looked more like the old hippie vans, though their pop-up looked like this one. (Google image search of VW Westfalia presents a lovely array.)

Of course I brought coffee on this trip. My name is Java, after all. We used to have a little 4 cup coffee maker that we'd bring on trips, but it wandered off somewhere, somehow, sometime in the past couple of years. So I brought filters and a small sieve so I could pour boiling water through the coffee in a low tech drip manner. Tried that this morning. Didn't work so well. By the time all the coffee had dripped through the filter and strainer, it was cold. And too much solid stuff came through. My coffee was kinda muddy, and tepid. Very disappointing. It was necessary that I get another small coffee maker. I'm ready for tomorrow morning now! Might even have some coffee later this evening, just for fun.

The shopping list for our W-M run was two items: frozen hamburgers and a small coffee maker. As we went into the store Sproing said "Remember Mom, we're here for only TWO items!" We went through the freezer gauntlet and he spotted the Ben & Jerry's display. Oooo! he says. I like this one, he says. I said "We're here for only TWO items!" but of course he talked me into getting some ice cream. It was difficult. He had to twist my arm hard. Or maybe he just had to grin at me. Whatever. We had ice cream for lunch. Gotta love it!

He's bored and tired now. His allergies are bothering him a bit, and he just told me he wants to leave tomorrow. We'd planned to stay until Thursday. Don't know what we'll end up doing. I'd like to stay until Thursday.

It's nap time for me now. As soon as I finish this I want to crawl into my bed and snooze with the sound of the rushing creek for background music. (We're very close to the creek. It's a bit louder than I'd like, but I'm not complaining.) Sproing wants to drive up this really cool gravel road that we made a wrong turn onto yesterday. Love that road! Narrow, very winding, gravel, steep, with beautiful views of the mountains and valley below. Perhaps we'll go on a short drive, take some more pictures, then come back for my nap. Poor ol' Sproing doesn't nap. Superman doesn't either. I love naps. Sproing could use a nap right about now.

My Dreams

(The day dream type, not those weird exercises of my sleeping brain.)

This is the sort of house I'd like to have/build/live in. Particularly the cob construction.


I was fantasizing last week before the megamillion$ lottery drawing about what I'd do with those bazillion dollars. I don't want a big elaborate house. I want something cozy and earthy. The combination of mud and stone delights me. Regarding the megamillions, we did not win the jackpot. Neither did we buy a ticket. Sometimes one just likes to wonder.

An Explanation: The previous post was, as its title suggests, a sample post. I was telling somebody about my blog and she didn't understand exactly what a blog is, so I whipped up that little example and posted it.

I have been reading Butch is a Noun by S. Bear Bergman. It's a collection of essays about hir queer transgender experience. I've had the book for a couple of years but am only now reading it. These readings bring up unsettling questions about my own gender identity. Here's where we are currently, for those keeping score: I am a woman with a few feminine gender expressions and more than typical masculine gender traits. I am emotionally/psychologically uncomfortable with the idea of being feminine, and consequently more comfortable with my personal idea of masculinity. I don't want to be a man, necessarily, but I don't want to be much of a woman, either. My femininity embarrasses me. When I try to discuss this with Superman he becomes very uncomfortable. He is very secure in his masculinity, much more so than I am. He is secure in my femininity, again much more so than I am. It all gets very confusing. Until we're in bed together. Then the masculine/feminine thing expresses itself with body parts and that works very well.*

Speaking of Superman, he poisoned himself Sunday afternoon. Ya' know, for as smart as he is, he does some mighty dumb things sometimes. He has been working on the kitchen (praise be) to good effect, and Sunday was painting polyurethane on a bunch of surfaces. Without opening the kitchen window, or wearing one of those ventilator thingies, or even turning on a fan in the room. When I got home from taking Twitch back to school (Twitch was home last week on spring break), Superman complained of dizziness. When I walked in the house the stench of polyurethane overwhelmed me. I opened the windows and turned on the attic fan to pull the poison out of the house. He sat beside an open window for a couple of hours but was still fuzzy-headed. Then Monday morning he got up and fell down. He came back to bed and slept for a little while longer (he was dizzy and tired) then had me take him to work. The man was at least smart enough to not drive in that condition. At my "suggestion" he went to the nurse's office. After hearing his explanation she gave him "that look" and asked why he was even at work. She then made him call our family physician to make an appointment. He worked for a couple of hours, then called me to pick him up. He was very dizzy, somewhat nauseous, and kept breaking out in a sweat.

I took him to his afternoon doctor's appointment, and the doc confirmed that he'd inhaled too much solvent from the polyurethane. The symptoms are typical. Said he'd probably feel better in a day or two or three. This morning (Tuesday) he was still pretty dizzy, but not so nauseous. He keeps having those sweaty hot flashes, though. That part amuses me, seeing as how in my state of peri-menopause I'm having regular hot flashes myself. I don't usually break into a sweat though. Poor Superman. He's such a silly thing. Anyway, he was home this morning but I took him to work early this afternoon. It's 5:00 now and I haven't heard anything from him, so I assume he's OK.

Wow, time flies when you're living your life. It's now 2:30 a.m. Wednesday. I should be asleep. When I'm supposed to get up in 4.5 hours I will wish I had been asleep now. Oy.

Superman was feeling a lot better this evening, so much so that he went downtown to one of the local bars to play trivia and drink beer with C and the gang of young men and a woman. He had a marvelous time. I stayed home with the children because they can't be left alone after dark. But I went out Monday night and Superman stayed home, so it all evens out. One of these days we'll go together for an evening out.

I'm working on another post that will update you on the local gay drama. Expect that soon. I'm not going to define "soon" though. You know me.

*(she says with a big grin on her face)

This is an example

This is what a blog post looks like.

And look! You can add pictures!

I found this picture last night. I immediately thought of Light. She loves to lie in bed and read. Well, actually, so do I.