Sorry dear readers, for negecting this blog. Surely there has to be going on in my life, or not. Listening to Noah Gunderson this morning. Like usually I wake at 4:30 and stare at the ceiling. So this morning decided to listen to some new music. I would recommend this artist. His voice has a refective quality. Like I wanted this blog to be. Today I'll do those mundane things. Go to work, solve this problem or that. Report on this grants expenditures, take me time to summarize an item for our Board. I'll not have any opportunity to be witty, unless it is in joking around with freinds at work. Such is life. So here is to your life, Noah is singing about swallowing an ocean. So here is my wish for you. Find some meat to your day and I'll try it for myself. Bye.

Away child, away, or Parenting 101

I think we often parent as we were parented too, unless we see somewhere along the way that something is just not working for us. When I was a teenager I found there was something terribly different from my family compared to the love found in my friends homes. They hugged each other, but there was none of that going on at my house. One day I had come home from a trip overnight and was greeted by my mother whom I hadn't seen all week. I met her in the doorway. As was custom at my cousins and friends home I put my arms around her and she pulled them away, yelling at me that they didn't do that in her house. "We come from a family that doesn't do that!" She acted like I was doing something wrong and I vowed to break her family tradition. Then I got into my marriage and have a man who was also raised without the affection we both craved. Sometimes he catches me in a bear-hug that surprises me, and we dance a bit pretending to struggle and giggle and laugh. It's really your choice, but I think studies have shown, its better to hug than not.

to the wash

Thunderous Thursday is past now. I took the day off to take delivery of my new washer and dryer. As I sat waiting with the screen door open a cool breeze let in a little fresh air. Then the sky grew darker and I began to hear the rumble, what a delight. No running for storm shelters for me, but all the same it was rain. We had it coming down at last. It was a momentous moment like a drumroll inviting in the day and I was there to hear you a clap of clouds and then they came the two men to put the appliances in place so that I might wash the clothes that had piled up since we last had to go lug all the backets down to the local laundromat. So glad that's over. So Friday is here and I'm on my way back to work. No rain today.

Too bad for me anyone want to have a Grandma?

Talked to a bloke from down under today, my 5 am is his 8 pm. We both blog and I decided to reach out and let him know I enjoyed reading about a young father and their busy life. Mine is rather dull I'm afraid with the kids all grown and moved away. I have one exception, yet she is forty and hardly the type to take up soccer or any sport for that matter, She spends most of her free time, and she has plenty of that on her computer playing games. Sometimes she does live action games where she uses an interactive program and she gets in character, I'll hear her talking in some strange voice from the ohter room and see her sitting wih a blanket wrapped around her in some fashion as if its a shawl and I'll know she's in character.

Me, I don't game, but my husband and I are rapt with the glowing rectangle in our laps as well, He's off on a hunt for an antique coffee grinder that he can buy for cheap and I'm off looking for inspiration and articles to read or wrting up another of these banal blogs to entertain noone but still it gets it out of me. This thing we do on these little white screens that pop out when we feel that urge to spew forth. Yes, its all about the day. Another chicken went into the oven last night and that's all well and good. Yet, sometimes its that sense of doom I feel coming on and my wonder over how I will keep it at bay, Today I talked with a new friend from around the otherside of this vast earth, who blogs about this too, Life ,,,will we ever make sense of it? No. But live it, well yet in these litlle increments someone can see we get it just a little. We feel it and know it has a substance. Its not all soccer games on someother continent I'll never see, and my yard not green this year because of the drought, I like to think its us and we are more than the mundane. At least I hope for that and it keeps the feeling of doom away. Until my next post. - from California the next big desert.

Never look back vs forwver looking

I wanted to hear from you and for a fleeting moment you're there, we've begun to share our inner most secrets. We are no longer chatting about the surface things in life. I love to heare from you, I look forward to our talks and then you stop, I doubt myself, oh why did I share that, was that the thing that made you stay away? What was it that I saiid, anyway that was too much?

Relationshops are hard, you promised to be there forever, no matter what the arrangement, was that just a lie so you would get to know me better? Are you just a cad, a crook, some one who later will want soemething again, but today whose needs are beiing met by soemone closer? Afterall this was never a face to face real intimate one. It was a casual serics on conersations. It was my mistake to share, my mistade to be vulnerable like this. Is this what its liked to be Catfished? I wonder if you were honest with me and just got tired of the game of making up more lies to seem real.

Or were you a real person, who thought again about who I was an was scared to go any further? Who could tell our freindship might go so far that you'd be hurt if taken any farther? At any rate, its too late for me, I have been affected by the lask of response to my text, I lament the relationshop if over. Until I hear from you again.,, dear friend.

18 years this Sunday

Everytime I married I thought it would be this long, Now that I have finally found the man for me it has been natural to stay. I have rarely, except when feeling trapped wanted to get away from him. Thsi marriage hasn't been perfect in anyway, and what marriage is? We've disagreed over things in the past and both of us have compromised or gotten our ways. I must admit most of the time I've gotten my way, but still there are things I would do differently if alone.

I know I wouldn't own a bunch of coffee grinders and crocks. I doubt that I would have joined him in the persuit of antiques, but it was a compromise of sorts. At least, he doesn't use drugs and that is where I have had to draw the line and walk away from love in the past, The drugs and alchohol my lovers used destroyed anything we could have had, for eventhough I realize it was a disease. I'm not capable of standing along another as they destroy themselfs and I know I'm not the one who can change another. Who is? These people have to fight their own demons, I know how that goes and my demons are well controlled with drugs. So its amazing that my husband has stuck it out with me. Every year is a blessing that he has been there to talk me out of my delusions. 

This year has been particularly hard on us all and I'm still fighting the depression. Even though I'm getting better, I could still be more active in managing my life. I think I will get there next year, but year after year I have these undone tasks that lurk in my office. Papers that pile up, and this year I've been forced to deal with some of them, as I've had to deal with my mom's affairs, Unlike my papers that simply lie there, some of her affairs we've had to attend to. That in fact has been the root of my depression this year, and partly why I feel I'm growing from the experience of loss.

She's not died yet, but I've been going through the process. She has had to sell her house and that has been the most difficult. Leaving my dogs bones in the back yard where he was buried, I alwasy thought we'd be able to keep the house and not have to leave him, my best friend who died in the bushes was laid to rest there under my bedroom window. Time has past, this Sunday I'm happy that you and I are bestfriends now. I was able to say goodbye to long-time relationships that continue, and that I can return to when I want to in my dreams and daydreams, but you are here by my side everyday and have been steadfast for all these 18 years, Never thought I would find love like this. So very grateful for who you are and that I was able to grow into someone that you could hold dear. 

Irritation at the Universe

Last night I was watching a You-Tube video and in it were two friends, who were going at each other explaining on a radio station (on the air) how one hated the other now that they had become a successful actor-comedian and not just the plain struggling comedian he had known at first.

He must not have been that famous because I can't remember his name now for the life of me.  However, the video stuck in my head last night as I woke at 3:20 am and instead of falling back to sleep began to think about a friend who I've begun to hate on.  I know that is bad, after all I love her and the little things she says are the things that are irritating and I just wish she'd realize on her own how they rub me the wrong way, but I just let her say them and have been trying to ignore it.

She complains about the time she wakes up and can't go back to sleep and when I try to reassure her she always makes it an excuse for how its the job that does it to her and the bringing the work home that nags on her so she gets up to work.  In other words, I'm getting up because I'm doing it for fun.
I guess that is true enough. I'd do the work if they had given me the job and shut-up about it. I hate people who complain about what they get once they have what they asked.

She get more money than we do, so I think she knew what she was in for by applying for a managers job.  They get free time in other times we have to work - so isn't she just rubbing her job in our faces?

She should be glad she has been worthy enough to be given the opportunity. It's nothing to complain about it's part of the territory. Like young mothers who complain they don't get enough sleep, but they are getting paid for that in the love and cuddly babies cuteness 24/7.  The baby smell is pay enough for a few months of sleepless nights. I'd take that job again in a minute, I only got to do it twice, and then they grow up and they'll remember the cuteness and the smell, not the sleepless nights.

I get these early mornings and they are a gift to myself,  I get to write. I get the living room with no TV blaring in the background and I get a chance to see if any news has been posted at the social and news media sites I follow. Life is good right now, except for the crime of the mean streets and I thank god I live where its not hit my doorstep, yet.  The war is still over there for the most part, We're blessed that our military keeps it at bay. The drought's bad, and eventually we will have to move away unless they figure out how to get us more water. We used to be able to feed the world from this valley, now noone seems to care. If I had a friend who got it, she'd complain about that there's not enough people to help her and maybe that's what she wants to say, she wished we could all work the long hours together on these projects. But hey, I'm being a hater right now, feeling bad that I have a friend who makes me feel jealous of her plot in life, not sympathetic.

I guess, to be good I'd feel a little more empathy for her plite.