After Only One Cup

I am running on one cup of coffee currently and as those who know me best know, I am not even remotely functional as a society defined human being until after the second cup is consumed, but let's see if I can fake coherency.

There are two things I try desperately never to do with people I know, discuss politics or religion. I respect these people. I respect their right to their opinions and views. I do not want to get into a debate with them over such things. I am not out to change their outlook nor am I out to defend mine. Maybe that's a cop out, you know but I don't care. I've seen and felt what such discussions can cause. There are moments of discomfort, of awkwardness, of frustration. They never last, not with people who truly have meaning in you life, but still. Maybe these moments deepen a relationship, maybe they don't. One thing I am certain of is that they do make an impact. During such conversations between those I know, with myself present, I will remain uninvolved.

I will make this small squeak.

I highly dislike this time of year, election year. I dislike watching or listening to the conventions. Mr. Mushy will turn them on and I will walk out of the room. If we're in the bedroom, I make him turn the channel. He listens for the parties' platforms. He wants to be well informed. I applaud him for that. I just won't suffer through it.

I just want to know one thing. Why does it become a necessity to hold someone or ourselves up for comparison to make a point? Why is it necessary to make this comparison in order to help solidify that one person is better than the other. It's childish.

Look at me, my ball is brighter and better.
Mommy! Tommy did this and Tommy didn't do that.
Brandon promised!

I am sick of it. Say what you believe in, say what you hope to accomplish and stand true to the person you are.

Maybe that's only possible in Xanadu.

They Shoot Horses, Don't They?

WHAT WAS I THINKING???!!!

1) I'm a good mother.
2) Things needed done and no one else was going to do it.
3) I can do this.
4) I have some things that need seeing to. This should not be too bad.
5) I had a lapse of sanity.

I HATE shopping. I do. If I feel the need to go shopping it must be because I want to kill something and since society frowns on that sort of thing and I really do like using a toilet in private, I choose the next worse scenario, I shop. I am eternally grateful that this feeling only comes over me once in a great while.

I tried not to think about it, shopping, daughter, two kids, many places to go and things to buy. The day started out at 9 am. I had to take Mr. Mushy over to the Veterans' Hall. The Honor Guard is presenting the colors at tomorrow's dedication of " The Field of Dreams " a ballpark this town has been wanting for ages. Yes, I know, not all that original, eh? What do you expect from a small country town anyways? Anywho, the guys had to meet with the ones pulling that pony show and go out to the field for practice, etc, etc. No big deal. We are fluid and accepting. Here in the Grove, plans change all the time. Next I had to go round up my small pack of darlings, daughter and two kids. Daughter moves slower than molasses and at this point there is a debate in The Grove whether a snail or molasses is slower. In either case, neither of them hold a plug nickel to my daughter. When I finally get her out the door and the babies loaded we set off for town.

Seven hours. Yep, you heard right, I spent seven hours shopping. At some point I had to make a stop at a local store that caters to bed and bath stuff and buy a replacement coffee carafe. Mine slipped out of my hands earlier this morning and shattered on the kitchen floor as I was making morning coffee. As I straightened up from my stooped position of retrieving the replacement, I turned and what should my glazed, tired eyes spy? A BLENDER! I could have sworn that the trumpets I heard sound off in my head were as glorious as some would reconcile as blown on Judgment Day. Now why should this produce such a reaction? Troll has previously blown up every damn blender that comes into this house. I swear. Everytime he went to make something in it, he blew it up. The last one actually oozed smoke. I had vowed to NEVER, EVER buy another one. But this... I had to have it. I needed it. I wanted it... and dammit, I bought it! Can we say Hallelujah? I know we can..... HALLELUJAH!! A cold, 'girlie' drink when I get home, I thought.

If you get home, some small demon whispered through my mind in an evil twisted sort of snicker.

Banish that thought! I cast ye forth and never to return, evil demon. I gloriously, triumphantly paid for my coffee pot replacement and my new blender. I stepped out of that store almost a new woman, I tell you. There was once more a hopeful, small spring in my step. I gloried in the fact that the end was soon near and that I could look forward to an intimate evening with my blender.

One hour and a half, three stores later, I had returned to the place I had first set out. The children were ensconced in front of the tv with their gameboys. The daughter's purchases lined her kitchen floor and after a sound thank you ringing in my ears, I was FINALLY away. One last stop. I needed to retrieve Mr. Mushy from the Veterans' Hall. He had all but melted by this time and wanted to go home. I must have gotten to the other side of town in record time. I can't be sure, I didn't check the speedometer. I scooped up Mr. Mushy and told the truck, " Home!" It went.

When we arrived home, Mr. Mushy went in to get Sprout to help remove the day's purchases. There really wasn't all that much. Sprout came out and chided me.

" Why didn't you tell me you were going? "
" Uh, because you were asleep. "
" You could have woken me up. I always tell you when I'm going out. "
" You wouldn't have remembered it anyway. "
" So? "

He might have gotten the last word but he also got the last smack on the back of the head. I got lucky with that one. Sprout is getting faster or maybe I'm just getting slower.

My most prized purchase of the day is still a virgin, sitting in its box, waiting. I am too exhausted to pull it forth, set it up and fill it up.

They do shoot horses, don't they? Can I be next?

Anyone For Squished Sprout?

Lady save me from twenty year olds! Sprout works 5 days a week, about 8 hours a day, give or take as the Boss decides. Working private construction is a bit more flexible than working for a larger company. He leaves early in the mornings and gets back around 4 or so. Usually he goes off to shower, grabs something to eat and hides in his room to relax and play online. Weekends he usually gets out of the house when I don't have something that urgently needs to be done and I need his help with. Well, his boss is taking a week off, vacation time. This means Sprout is getting his vacation time too. Understandably he wants to go somewhere, to visit his father in Reno, Nv or his brother in Quincy, Calif. whatever it might be. I don't know if he called his father. That usually is a lost cause. I know he called his brother who can't make it down to pick Sprout up. Sprout has his own car but it's an 88 Honda, seemingly in good shape with over 100,000 miles on her. Sprout wanted to drive his car to his brother's. That's about a 3 hour drive one way. I vetoed that. First off the roads are steep, hilly and twisty. Sprout doesn't have a whole lot of drive time under him. He's a good driver. What worries me is that car of his. We don't know what the previous owner did with it. It's old and those hills will take it's toll on that car. His cell phone will black out and in the middle of nowhere and I mean nowhere, how will he get help if he breaks down? It could be hours before anyone showed up. The road to Sprout's brother's is that remote, beautiful but remote. If he had a car like Troll's I would worry of course, but not nearly so badly. It just wasn't, isn't, a good idea. He's disappointed, I understand that. I understand his frustrations. That may be the only reason I didn't rip his tongue out of his head when he was yelling that I wanted to keep him home all the time and why couldn't he take HIS car.

Okay, I have a rule, a hard and fast one. I do not go 'round and 'round with my kids over something I said no to or something I don't agree with. I hear them out. I let them make their case and if I still feel rather strongly about it, it's over, that's all she wrote. The matter is closed. I am not going in circles with them so they can get their way. They didn't make their case the first time around. My mind is not changing if they revisit the issue. Nuh-uh, not happening. Did I mention I have the car covered for insurance? He can go. I can't take him and he just needs to find some other way of getting there that is safe and sane.

Now unbeknownst to me, Sprout had called his brother. I find out my oldest son thought that Sprout could drive if he took the 'easier' route. I mentioned the easier route above. I told oldest son, I did not need this. I can't take any more stress. I haven't detoxed from FB of last week. I haven't been able to getaway somewhere and just de-stress and regenerate. I need it. Badly. I am in near tears overflow as it is. It isn't going to take much to set me off. I don't know what oldest son told his little brother, but Sprout has been quiet. It's not altogether a peaceful quiet, but at this point in time, I'll take anything I can get.

Sprout knows better than to bring this issue up again. I pray he does, because if he is foolish I'll have to squish him and bury him next to FB's place of honor. He'd like that. Yeah, right.

Drama Concluded?

Perhaps, at least until the next time. I am under no illusion that there will not be next time. There always is. He did seem to be a little subdued before he left. His attitude upon his return is something yet to be seen. Let me relate to you all that happened.

We picked FB up at the apartment and met his father at the towing yard with about 10 minutes to spare before the yard closed. Hubby went inside with them because FB needed a licensed driver. I proceeded to hop into the driver's seat with every intent of meeting them back at the apartment. Did it go down that way? Pluuuuease. That would have been too easy. Hubby came out holding up a hand to stop me. I lower the window to find out that they can't get the car released. Why? SOMEbody had to go to the police station and get a red stamp on the release papers. Oh yes and pay the $130.00 recovery fee, then bring it back to the towing yard along with the registration tags and red stamped paper and they can get the car. Now FB doesn't have that kind of money. He stands around outside our truck, hoping we're going to offer to pay that since his daddy just paid out $155.00 for the impound. Hubby looks at FB and tells him he better speak with his dad and proceeds to roll up his window so we could talk. FB does an about face and does just that. Daddy dearest is not happy but is going to give FB the money. Since the towing yard closed in 10 minutes, they told us if we come back first thing in the morning, we won't charge the additional $25.00 for keeping the car. We ask if the car can be released to hubby since he is going to drive it. Nope. FB needs to be there to accept the car. Gee, FB is not happy. This means he isn't going to get down south as soon as he would like. But wait! Let's use
mother-in-law's (namely me) cellphone and call the tow yard to see if daughter can pick up the car since she is on the registration (have I mentioned that FB fought over putting her on it when they bought the car because she didn't drive. Why should her name be on it?). One phone call later and it's a go because daughter is on the registration. Now we have to take FB over to his dad's, pick up the cash and run all the way to the other side of town to the police station. They don't close until 6 pm. At least we can get the red stamp, right? Wrong. I park outside of the police dept. They go inside. Again, the needed the license driver present. However, there has to be a cop at the desk to process this. No cops, they're all on patrol. Next thing I see is Mr. Mushy having some sharp words with an exiting detective. Oh Lady Bless, that's all I need. You see, I know Mr. Mushy. There are times he just doesn't know when NOT to tweak someone's tail. I roll down the passenger window, lean over and point at him. The look in my eyes by this time, speaks more than mere volumes. Six pm rolls around and out they come, did they get it? Nope. They have to go over to the local DMV, pay the college parking ticket fine of $30.00., get the tags, then go back to the police station get the stamp and THEN we can pick up the car. So, all that's left is to take FB home. Now FB is talking like daughter can do all this tomorrow, by herself, dragging two kids along. I told him I didn't think so. Daughter and I had already had that conversation while they were inside the police station. There was no telling how long the wait was going to be in each place on the morrow and I sure as hell wasn't dragging those babies out in this heat. No, FB was going to have to handle this himself. We offered to cart him around.

I get a phone call later from FB. My "adopted" daughter Tiffany is going to take him to the bus station so I don't have go. Tiffany is one of those kids that got adopted by merely being a friend of the kids when they were all in high school. Ironically, I went to high school with her dad. Tiffy as we fondly call her, also offered to babysit the kids while we ran daughter around to get all this stuff done. Daughter let FB off the hook. So, early in the morning (wednesday) we headed straight for DMV and she was in and out in five minutes. Done. Next stop, Police Dept. They were in there all of 15 minutes, maybe. Done. Final stop, towing yard. That was completed in 5 maybe ten minutes. See what good karma will do for you? Trust me, when FB called, she told him that too. I found out after the fact, that FB was grumbling that we just didn't want to take the kids around with us to run all these errands (we're out to get him, don't you know). I know he was complaining because he thought he wasn't going to get to go down south. Lady forbid that he had to stay behind and actually clean up after his own mess. He surely didn't get the point of why I didn't want to haul those babies around in this heat. Self absorption. Remind me to stuff his Yule stocking with sponges this year. Well he's damn lucky his wife let him off the hook. Come to think of it, he sure was using his sucking up talent real well before he left. He was talking about a bus pass when he gets back. Yeah, he better mean it. He gets caught driving again and the cop made sure he understood, next time will be jail time and daughter can't bail him out and we aren't. Did we even get a thank you out of all this? Nary a word. Par for course.

Daughter has no less than 5 medical appointments next month that I or someone will have to drive her to. Are we going to make his life easier? *snort*.

Can we say...drama?

This one doesn't even rate grabbing a shovel. I swear, at the moment all I can do is sigh and shake my head.

Daughter just called, oh about, 19 minutes ago. " Is Dad home? Is he busy? Does someone have a vehicle available?" Now there's a clue if ever there was one.

FB decides he is going to go uptown to buy his bus ticket now so he doesn't have to worry about it at 2 am. Two blocks from the bus station, guess who gets pulled over by the local PD? Oh, you betcha by golly. What does he get pulled over for? He doesn't have his front license plate on the car. It fell off during or after the accident (that was his other ticket) Cop runs a make on the car. The registration(the one we paid for) is not complete. Why? Apparently FB got a parking ticket at the local junior college he is attending and never paid it. Did he not think it would get put into the data base or what? Next comes the check on FB's license. We all know what comes next, right? Say bye-bye car. Can we say, impound? I knew we could.

Hubby goes to get FB, who at least had the sense to pull the car seat out for the grandson. FB is at the bus station. FB is on phone with wife aka daughter. Wife advises FB he is not going anywhere until this matter is taken care of. FB has had the car impounded before. Hubby now has to run daughter over to the post office to pick up a package, bring her home and is now currently sitting in the local Veteran's Hall having a cold drink. I'm proud of him, he kept his cool, bit his tongue. He's earned that drink.

Here's how the situation is going to play out. FB had to call his father for the money to bail out the car. The money was not coming from anyone in this family. So, at about 4-4:30 pm PDT hubby and I will go pick up FB, meet FB's father (oh goodie) at the towing yard. FB's father will pay bill. Wait.. ready for this? FB wanted to drive his car home. Cheeeeeeeeuz. Does nothing sink into that boy's head? He was informed by his wife that no, he will not be driving that car. Hubby will drive it back to their house and park it. I will follow and pick up the hubby. Hubby looks at FB and tells him. " This is not your day. You don't need to be driving again. " When I spoke to hubby on the cell phone, hubby says to me, " That boy's karma is all messed up. " Gee, ya think? If I thought smacking FB up the side of the head with my shovel would knock some damn sense into him, I'd volunteer and gladly. I know it would be a futile exercise however. I will save my energy for something more important.

Oh yes... and FB wanted to know, with everything that has happened today, if I was still going to take him to the bus station?

Now, dear reader and friends... tell me, what do you think?

A Bit of This, A Bit of That.

Yesterday my daughter called and asked if she and the family could come over and hang out a bit since they were out this way before one of her medical appointments. It was hot out and I said fine. She wanted to check because she had FB with her. In other words she wanted to see just how ticked off at him I still was. I told her my initial irritation over this latest crap was over, which translates into I'm still irritated as hell with him but I don't feel like grabbing the shovel and burying him in with the rose bushes right this moment. They didn't stay long, long enough to get a bit cooled down, long enough for Pookie to play with the babies (who btw, have all opened their eyes and are starting to play around a bit. Maybe I'll get my drawer back soon), long enough for FB to feel comfortable enough to grab some oreos and a drink. *snort*. Plans are still on for me to dump him at the bus station Wednesday morning at 2 am. His brother will be picking him up after an eight hour bus ride and then off they go to Az for about a week and a half.

My writing focus has switched gears for the moment. I am hoping that such a switch will help bring my creative writing for Camelot back around. I buried myself so long into my love of medieval that I have ignored all the other genre of writing I like to indulge. Camelot is not to be forgotten nor ignored. I will continue to plod along as best I can with it, hoping something will begin to flow again. It seems I am not the only one. It appears like my writing partner also is having a rough time. Since a good deal of my inspiration comes from him, well there you go. Maybe it's been a case of "too much of a good thing"? I don't know. As I told my partner, it's a cycle and if we just tough it out, it will all come around. Then again, sometimes I just feel...lost and I can't find the damn compass. You'll find the link to the beginning offerings of one of those other forms of genre to the right of my blogs.

I'm not sure why I picked the name 'Erotic Moon'. I think because there is this seductiveness to the darker edge of creativity. It rolls around on my tongue like a damn good dark chocolate, sinful, sweet, forbidden, erotic. It's not an area I dwell in for too long, but it's needful. Like the moon, I have phases and I think to fully be me, I need to indulge in them from time to time.

Some part of me feels like I am running on empty again. I get this way from time to time. Someone comes along and refills me and I'm good enough to go all over. I am tired, exhausted in fact, mentally, not physically. I'm on empty emotional wise. For those of you that know me better than most, that know how it is with my personal life and more specifically my hubby, perhaps can understand what I am trying to say here. There are no complaints from me. I knew what I was getting into or had a fairly good idea of such when I started off down this path. It's hard on me from time to time and what sustains me in the long run is love. I'm as human as anyone else out there. From time to time I miss the part of me I gave up. From time to time I am just...empty and empty is not such a bad thing really. Sometimes we have to empty the container, clean it out, so that what pours back in is sparkling, clean and fortified.

An Early Morning Thought

I woke about around 4 am this morning, as I often do these days and I am only now beginning to shake the feeling that came over me. It's not as heart wrenching as the one I had a few days before the 9/11 attack but I can't help but think something painful is going to happen. I can't even place whether it is something that is going to happen to me or mine or within the circle of people that have a part in my everyday life or if it something that is going to befall the world again. I just know it's the same feeling that came over me before. The part I hate the most is the not knowing. It's like watching a swinging axe over my head sway back and forth and I'm helpless to stop it. Indeed, I know it is something I can't stop. What is to come, if it is time to be, will be. Some things we can change, the feeling that rides hard with this one is that, there is no choice here. It is inevitable. Some things are. Of all the gifts I am blessed with, of all the gifts I am thankful for, this one is not. Why? Because from my standpoint, it is useless. What is its point if I can't use it for something constructive? To just be some sort of....monitor just seems.... so wrong.

There are so few sureties in my life. Things I just know will happen. I can't pin them down to a time frame, merely that they will come to be. I knew that Saddam would be captured. I know Osama will also pass from what power he wields. Perhaps to some, that isn't saying much. Those are things that are predictable. Perhaps. Things could have and still have the ability to go other ways. They just may. All I know for sure, deep in my gut, is that it will come to pass and it won't be years from now.

The greatest surety in my life and the one that sustains me, is that I am loved. I have accomplished something with my life, modest as it may be in the greater scheme of things. People spend hours, even years trying to figure out why they came into this world and what their purpose is. I know mine. It is to make a difference, no matter how minute that may seem in my eyes given my perception of the Great Design. Everything matters, everything causes a ripple. Right or wrong, each decision, each action, has consequences and or dividends. Something must be paid back and something pays forward. Each person comes into this world with something to give and something to learn.

I came into this world to love and be loved, to make a difference. I am. I do.

Walking Softly

It's Friday. I know that means something to people who actually go out and work in the world. For me it marks another week completed and to take an evaluation to see how much of my sanity (what's left of it) has been retained, not to mention taking stock of my patience level as well. It's only 1pm pdt but for now my assessment is that I am beat. It is all I can do to merely wrap up what needs to be done for this week.

Daughter and FB: Today is FB's birthday. Dare I hope FB's head may have slipped just even a millisecond out of its current resting place? In some cultures the birthday person actually gives gifts away. I would be happy for this to be mine. He is a bit more subdued. He is grumbling a bit but at least holding the attitude in check. After all, he will be taking a bus down to meet his brother so they can go visit their oldest brother in Az. He needs to take the 2am bus out of town Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. Not a problem. I am still awake at that hour, I'd be more than happy to put his arse on the bus. *insert a VERY cheesy grin here*. I was going to give Daughter about $40.00 to take FB out to dinner. I do it for the kids and spouses. However, they had to borrow $70.00 yesterday to register their car. Daughter has been very good about not borrowing money and I have been very good about keeping our purse strings closed. This needed to be done or penalties of $2.00 a day would keep racking up and I know money is super tight for them given their recent move. Besides, my daughter works off the money by doing some office work for me.

FB's brother is not happy that his plans are not going his way, but he seems to be falling in with them. FB's father even agreed that my daughter had a good idea about giving FB bus fare instead of gas money. He said he was even going to suggest that himself. Well damn, my daughter actually has a good idea once in awhile. * eye roll* It use to bother her that his folks don't like her, but over the past years she has come to the conclusion that she can't do anything right where they are concerned and she will never be good enough for their son. She is past caring. However, since FB's mom is slowly dying because of Wilson's disease, my daughter does go over there to help out when there is a need. All she asks is that the responsibilities and needs of their (FB's and hers) family get met. She also refuses to allow her father-in-law to simply use them when he feels inconvenienced by his wife's illness or requirements. That in and of itself was battle and has left ill will between his parents in regards to her. To them, that's what family is for, to do whatever needs to be done. FB owes it to them. ARUGH! Now I have instilled into my daughter a sense of family, that yes, your elders deserve respect and help when it is needed but that also must be tempered by the needs of your own immediate family. Those responsibilities must come first unless the situation is so dire that seeing to your parents is paramount. There are things around here we could use help with but they are not so important to surmount the needs of her immediate family. It's all about priorities.

Business: I am ready to choke the living daylights out of the company from hell, the same one that belongs to the wench from hell. it has taken them 3 months to get us the bills of laden to prove the materials were delivered as promised. The hubby was working on the claims form to submit to the bonding company and found out that the bills of laden they sent over were for invoices that were ALREADY paid for. I am grinding my teeth as I write. He called them back and advised them of the situation and told them what bills of laden he needed. It makes me wonder how in sam hell they keep their files. We'll see how long it takes them to get these to us. I don't know what the statue of limitations is to file with the bonding company, but if it doesn't happen, the wench from hell has no one to blame but herself for it. I am keeping running notes of conversations between us over it.

On another note, we thought our status as suppliers was all set. Come to find out on Monday, the gentleman who told us we were set would be out all week and the other person who needed the verifying info couldn't get the verification of what we told her and of course, they haven't had a department meeting yet to share their findings. That meant we needed to reverify for this new bid that came across. No problem, I just changed the former letter sent to comply with this new project AND Mr Mushy sent down, via overnight FEDEX, a copy of schedule C from our tax return showing our inventory for 2003. We were advised that would make life easier. Let us hope so.

Today: Things are quiet. Let me not say that, even mentally, too loudly. It would be tempting the Universe which seems to be taking perverse pleasure in being a pain in the arse. The temps around here are up in the 104-105 degrees F and make me move about slower. By the time the afternoon gets here, I am wilting, mentally and physically. I am hoping that in the next day or two I can actually make time for some fun and relaxation. This would include roleplaying online and maybe some writing time. There is also the continuing renovating of the kitchen and some housework that needs attending.

For now, I am reveling in the simple peace that is currently surrounding me.

Myers Briggs Test

Well the conclusion of this test hasn't changed over the years. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or bad that my personality has remained steadfast.

My results:

Your Type is

INFJ

Introverted	Intutive	Feeling	Judging
Strength of the preferences %
44	33	22	22

The Counselor Idealists are abstract thought and speech, cooperative in reaching their goals, and directive and introverted in their interpersonal roles. Counselors focus on human potentials, think in terms of ethical values, and come easily to decisions. The small number of this type (little more than 2 percent) is regrettable, since Counselors have an unusually strong desire to contribute to the welfare of others and genuinely enjoy helping their companions. Although Counsleors tend to be private, sensitive people, and are not generally visible leaders, they nevertheless work quite intensely with those close to them, quietly exerting their influence behind the scenes with their families, friends, and colleagues. This type has great depth of personality; they are themselves complicated, and can understand and deal with complex issues and people.

Counselors can be hard to get to know. They have an unusually rich inner life, but they are reserved and tend not to share their reactions except with those they trust. With their loved ones, certainly, Counselors are not reluctant to express their feelings, their face lighting up with the positive emotions, but darkening like a thunderhead with the negative. Indeed, because of their strong ability to take into themselves the feelings of others, Counselors can be hurt rather easily by those around them, which, perhaps, is one reason why they tend to be private people, mutely withdrawing from human contact. At the same time, friends who have known an Counselor for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that they are inconsistent; Counselors value their integrity a great deal, but they have intricately woven, mysterious personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.

Counselors have strong empathic abilities and can become aware of another's emotions or intentions -- good or evil -- even before that person is conscious of them. This "mind-reading" can take the form of feeling the hidden distress or illnesses of others to an extent which is difficult for other types to comprehend. Even Counselors can seldom tell how they came to penetrate others' feelings so keenly. Furthermore, the Counselor is most likely of all the types to demonstrate an ability to understand psychic phenomena and to have visions of human events, past, present, or future. What is known as ESP may well be exceptional intuitive ability-in both its forms, projection and introjection. Such supernormal intuition is found frequently in the Counselor, and can extend to people, things, and often events, taking the form of visions, episodes of foreknowledge, premonitions, auditory and visual images of things to come, as well as uncanny communications with certain individuals at a distance.

You can take the test yourself.

That's Ms. Bitch-Part 2

You know, I like the hovel. It's so peaceful and quiet around here most times. Yes, there are times when the phone rings at least 20 times and thanks to caller-id, I can pick and choose. I use this feature a lot. It's dark and calm in the grove and I like being a see-nothing, know-nothing mushroom. I'm getting to be an old 'shroom. I just want to sit here and rock in my chair, count my wrinkles and not deal with youthful drama.

So, noting that the situation can be as fluid as mercury, subject to change at a moment's notice, this is latest. FB couldn't get his ex-tutor to cover next week's appointment, but he had a plan. FB's brother has plans with his uncle for Monday and Tuesday so waiting to go south and then to Az after Tuesday was a no deal. What FB did come up with was this: He would stay behind, take daughter to appointment on Tuesday and then drive down to meet his brother. They would pick up brother's newly purchased vehicle and drive to Az. and be back on the 5th. They would drive back to the cousin's house and pick up their mom's jeep and FB's car and come back north.

There's only one little snag I can see with this plan. FB doesn't have a valid license to drive. It's been suspended due to his impatience which resulted in a minor car accident and his two speeding tickets, all of which was achieved either in the same month or the next. Also their car is a tin can waiting to fall apart. So, daughter and I came to the same conclusion to run past these two. If brother is willing to pay for FB's gas, roundtrip, why not just get FB a one way bus ticket down south and have family down there pick him up. It would save FB's brother some money. Then the guys can go from down south to Az. This also keeps FB from driving the heap of a car. Now daughter has warned FB, you are driving on a suspended license and if you get pulled over for speeding, the CHP are going to run a make on your license and they're more than likely gonna lock his arse up and impound the car. If the car breaks down, he's foo-barred. His brother is going to have to bail his arse out and then they are going to have to decide what to do about the car. The kids don't have the money and this family, none of us, are going to get him out of the jam, should he get into one. His response has been that since daughter doesn't want him driving the car down there then maybe he shouldn't be driving at all around town either, which is blatantly saying to her that he shouldn't be running her around town when the need arises. Daughter points out that one, FB is going to drive, period. There is no way he is going to take the bus and two, at least if the car breaks down in town someone is around, close by to make sure he gets home and the car gets towed should it break down. No come back for that one. Needless to say, FB is going to speak with his brother and see what brother says.

Oh yes, and FB wanted to know just how he was going to get to the bus station here in town. I advised that either Mr. Mushy or myself would be more than willing to put him on a bus going out of town. It certainly would be a pleasure to do so.

That's Ms. Bitch

I had it! Incoming LONG Rant. Save yourselves now and go elsewhere.

1) My daughter has a few health issues. Currently, she is having tests done so the health professionals can pinpoint the problem.
2) FB's brother is home on leave(30 days), courtesy of the U.S. Army. His unit has finally left Iraq.


FB's brother wants to buy his cousin's car and then go visit the oldest sibling and family in Az. FB and daughter talked about FB being able to do this. Well and fine. It was a week's worth of vacation time for FB. The problem is, daughter has appointments next week she can't miss. Daughter does not drive. Trust me, she has tried and she is an accident waiting to happen. She's just one of those people who can't do it, at least not now. There's a chance when she gets a little older she could do it. We'll see. In the meantime she has to depend on FB to take her everywhere. If FB can't do it (not won't do it), then we step in or a friend does. My daughter is very good about that. FB is having a cow because now he can't go with his brother. He has turned into a sullen little boy having a temper tantrum because we refuse to help out here. Family is suppose to help out. I have listened to this via my daughter for months and months now. She knows my position about this. I have held my tongue because I don't want him taking his damn temper out on her or that my babies become unsettled because daddy is having a hissy fit.

Today, the hubby and I went over there. FB didn't come home last night. Five will get you ten, he spent the night at his parents house. His brother is there, his parents are there and he will get the support he needs for his feelings and told how right he is and wrong we are or even how wrong my daughter is. Validation came on swift heels. When we got to their apartment, FB was home. She took a little longer to answer the door than I liked. Her eyes were also red from crying. I saw the writing on the wall and I knew they had gotten into it again. At first she stood in the partially opened doorway, door behind her when she answered. I wasn't having any of that. If FB was in there and hurt her, I was gonna shred him. We stood at the door for a few chatting and she leaned over to whisper that FB's brother couldn't understand why we wouldn't take her. So, I told her why, in a voice loud enough for FB to hear. Then hard on those heels was the thought, ' To hell with this. I've had it.' FB was going to hear this straight from me. I stepped up and inside and there he sat, in his chair looking like a sullen pouty little boy. I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time. I flat out told him that we weren't going to do this because she was his responsibility. I wasn't going to do this for him so he could go off gallivanting with his brother. Family is there for support, not to fill in for him when his responsibilities interfered with what he wanted to do. If his mother was in the hospital and daughter needed to go somewhere, fine. We can handle that. But I would be damned if I was going to fill in just because he can't step up to the plate and handle his responsibilities. I didn't want to hear about how she won't drive, that is old news, a done deal so he needed to quit beating a dead horse, get over it and move on. He married her. She didn't ask to become sick but she is and there are no immediate cures for it(them). I am so sick and tired of having to come to the rescue because he won't step up and do what he needs to do. Maybe if he did, I wouldn't mind doing him a favor now and then. As it is, I 'clean up' after one of his tantrums because I am not going to let my daughter or my babies suffer because FB won't get his head out of his ass.

I flat out told them tonight they need to decide what the sam hell they are going to do. Either they are going to work this through or he just needs to leave. If he chooses to leave, she can't do anything about it. He made a choice and he will need to live with the consequences whatever they may be and there will be some. He is not going to run roughshod over my daughter to get custody of their son. He lost custody of his daughter by a previous marriage. He doesn't want that to happen with their son. He knows I will do whatever it takes to make sure she has damn good legal representation, if not the best this town has to offer. I am not out to see him get screwed over but I will not allow him to do it to her either. Don't get me wrong, she could have done far worse and he is basically a good person. He just needs to get his priorities straight and get his head out of his ass( did I mention that before?). I am so tired of hearing this, " When do I get time for me? " You don't. You got married, you had kids, what time? Time doesn't get to be your own until they all grow up and move out, even then your time isn't all yours, but you can damn sure control it better. They're both bad about this and trust me, I am on my daughter about things just as much. I am not blind where my children are concerned, any of them.

Needless to say, the whole time I was having my say to FB he spoke not a word. My daughter even told him, " Here she is. You tell her. You have a problem with her and her decisions, now is your chance to talk to her. She's right here. " Did he? No. Truthfully, I didn't think he would. He'll bully and bluster around my daughter, but he won't get into it with me, not after the first and only time he did it. Back then, when he was feeling froggy and almighty, he bit off more than he could chew and found me right back in his face. His father tried that with me. It didn't work for him either. I have a feeling that's why his parents don't care for me. They bluster real good until you come back at them. What have I always said? "You're a product of your environment. "

Of course FB's brother doesn't understand any of this. He's not married. He's younger than FB and by a few years and his last relationship was with a 16 year old high school girl he grew up with. Dynamics of a marriage are a whole lot different than just a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship. Apparently FB's brother told FB that if FB didn't come with him this time, brother wasn't ever going to ask FB to go anywhere ever again. In some small way, I feel sorry for FB. He's caught in the middle of this... family(sibling) and immediate family (wife and kids). He doesn't want to have to choose. To me, there isn't a choice to be made. His wife and kids come first, his responsibilities to them come first. He needs to grow some cajones and tell his brother that. FB just doesn't want to. Why? Because he really does want this trip away for a week, all expenses paid courtesy of little brother. Who wouldn't?

By the time we got home, settled in, the phone rang. It was daughter. FB had to go to college tonight. She told me she didn't know what I said sunk in with him, but FB was looking into who he could get to take care of this for him. If there was someone who could take her to her appointments and someone to watch the kids while daughter was being seen. He is thinking of his ex-tutor. They don't live too far away and the ex-tutor has a little girl about Pookie's age. Daughter isn't saying no, but she has some stipulations.She wants to meet the ex-tutor and the mother (who may be watching the my babies) and she wants them to meet the kids and visa versa. If the kids have a real problem with the ladies, it's a no go. FB tells daughter she's too overly protective. Daughter tells FB that's not so, she is cautious. She is not leaving her children in the hands of strangers. All it takes is one time and one time may be one time too many. So, we'll see.

Daughter is suppose to call me back later tonight after she talks with FB. My guess is FB is going to go spend the night at his parents' house again. I offered to take daughter to get milk for the babies and take her to get her disability paperwork tomorrow. FB, in his current mood, would grudgingly do it and make her and the babies miserable with his attitude or he would just not do it. I told daughter I expect him to handle it but I will do this if he won't. It's just one more thing he'll tick me off about. I'll do what needs to be done for the welfare of my daughter and her children. I know FB, his brother and his parents think I'm a bitch.

That's not A bitch but THE bitch and it's Ms. Bitch to them.

Where's My Rope?

Okay, now this is really starting to bug me. In the last four days, I've managed to evade two car accidents. On Friday afternoon, on the way home from Sacramento, I manage to avoid the car that wanted to eat Troll's bumper, the fire watchers, remember? Tonight I was on the return trip home from taking the grandson home and had just a few seconds reaction time to some punk kid with a lead foot on his gas pedal. He saw me too a few seconds later than he should have. Thank the Lady one of us was paying attention. So, I go by him, just motoring home ( in Troll's car again. Can you believe it?) and the punk is behind me, two other cars in front of me. Punk kid decides he just has to get in front of me so badly he crosses the solid do not pass yellow line, only to find himself having to pull up short why? Because there is oncoming traffic headed his way. He lays into his brakes hard. I had already seen the writing on the wall once I saw him pass me. I was already in slow gear. He slides in in front of me and about 5 yards in front of us he turns into one of those gas/convience stores. I swear he was not sane or logical. His foot was on the gas pedal when he made the turn. I just wanted the hell out of there since he was an accident waiting to happen. I was also saying a prayer of thanks that I had already delivered the grandson home to his folks. The Pookie is spending the night. I'm telling you, something is up in the Universe. I wonder if it has something to do with the dark moon we're experiencing.... GQS is in a funk... Lunacy has injured himself... and I'm avoiding accidents and trying like hell to decipher the undercurrents going on with the hubby. It's nothing I can lay a finger on exactly, but I can sense something there.

I just have two questions for the Universe......

Is anything ever going to make sense again? And, do I ever get to climb up this rope instead of hanging on by the knot on the end of it?

I probably should have asked about sanity somewhere in there too, but right at the moment, I'm not sure I know what that is.

All In A Day's Work-Part 1

The morning light added to the gleam in 'shroom's eyes. Wearing a pair of safety goggles, armed in one hand with an electric screw driver and in the other with a palm sander, 'shroom bravely tackled the first of the kitchen cabinets. They would need to be all sanded before they can be repainted. Today would be the 2 cabinets next to the stove. There was much build up from over the past 30 years to get through. Shroom was not daunted. Armed with Mr. Mushy's power tools, she slid the safety glasses in place and got to work. It must go on the record that Mr. Mushy thinks highly of his power tools. However, before he disappeared for his afternoon appointment he did set 'shroom up with the sander and the electric screw driver. Troll had gone to work and Sprout was at the bank, cashing his last two pay checks. Muhahahahaha... alone! With power tools.

Now the shroom must admit to never having used power tools before. It is unclear if the reason was because she did not want to use them OR if Mr. Mushy just kept her away from his tools. Whatever the case, they were in her hands now. First, to remove the doors and their hardware. Easily enough done you'd think. However, shroom didn't count on one thing. She couldn't reach the screws in the hinges for the cabinet up above the counter, even on a two-step stepstool. Enter Sprout. Sprout generously handed over over a certain sum of money for continuous payment of past debts. Shroom thanked him and looked sufficiently ill-abled that Sprout took up the electric screwdriver and removed the cabinet doors that remained. Such a nice, loving lad. He even took the time to show 'shroom how to put sandpaper on the palm sander correctly.

At this time, 'shroom has gone through three full sheets of sandpaper and having placed an emergency call to to Mr. Mushy with a request for more sandpaper, she has managed to sand the cabinets and the doors. She is awaiting the return of Mr. Mushy so she can finish up the job before replacing the doors' hardware and replacing the doors. The plan is to sand all the cabinets and doors before starting on the next phase, painting.

Since they don't make cabinets such as these (without being terribly pricey), it was decided to recycle what can be recycled with a new paint job and new hardware. New cabinets will be obtained after the kitchen has been repaired and certain other aspects seen too first. Priorities.

'Shroom has come to the conclusion that she LIKES power tools. When they are in her hands, she has THE POWER. It's enough to make her dizzy or perhaps even faint. Myyyyyy prrreciousssssss.

Power Tools... oh my.

The saga will continue.

A Womanly Bit of Humor

I know my memory's fading. I actually kept my mammogram appointment. I chose a seat next to a man and his wife in the waiting room. Both the chairs and conversations were so comfortable that before long I'd totally forgotten why I was there and asked the man. "So...what are you here for?" Talk about a showstopper. Dead silence just as "Nurse Ratchet" announced my name in her best baritone voice. I thought, "Great..a name to match the idiot." I rushed past the giggles and hurried after the angel of no mercy.

Rounding the corner, I was met with, "Hi! I'm Belinda!" This perky clipboard carrier smiled from ear to ear, tilted her head to one side and crooned, "Allll I need you to do is step into this room right hereee,strip to the waist, thennnn slip on this gown. Everything clearrrr?" I'm thinking, "Belinda...try decaf. This ain't rocket science." Belinda skipped away to prepare the chamber of horrors. Call me crazy, but I suspect a man invented this machine. It takes a perfectly healthy cup size of 36-B to a size 38-LONG in less than 60 seconds. Also, girls aren't made of sugar and spice and everything nice...it's Spandex. We can be stretched, pulled and twisted over a cold 4-inch piece of square glass and still pop back into shape.

With the right side finished, Belinda flipped me (literally) to the left and said, "Hmmmm. Can you stand on your tippy toes and lean in a tad so we can get everything?" Fine, I answered. I was freezing, bruised, and out of air, so why not use the remaining circulation in my legs and neck and finish me off? My body was in a holding pattern that defied gravity when we heard, then felt, zap! Complete darkness.
"What?" I yelled.
"Oh, maintenance is working. Bet they hit a snag."

Belinda headed for the door. "Excuse me! You're not leaving are you?" I shouted. Belinda kept going and said, "Oh, you fussy puppy....the door's wide open so you'll have the emergency hall lights. I'll be righttttt backkkk." Before I could shout "NO" she disappeared.

And that's exactly how Bubba and Earl, maintenance men extraordinaire, found me, half-naked and parts of me dangling from the Jaws of Life. After exchanging polite "Hi, how's it going" type greetings, Bubba (or possibly Earl) asked, to my utter disbelief, if I knew the power was off. Trying to disguise my hysteria, I replied with as much calmness as possible.
"Uh, yes...yes we did, thanks."
"You bet, take care," Bubba replied and waved good-bye as though we'd been standing in the line at the grocery store.

Two hours later, Belinda breezes in wearing a sheepish grin and making no attempt to suppress her amusement, she said. "Oh I am soooo sorry! The power came back on and I totally forgot about you! And silly me, I went to lunch. Are we upset?"

And that, Your Honour, is exactly how her head ended up between the clamps.....

A Tidbit

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items
in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he
picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and
proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students
if the jar was full.

They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the
jar was full.

They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the
jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once
more if the jar was full.

The students responded with an unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the
table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling
the empty space between the sand.

The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, " I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.

The golf balls are the important things-your God, family, your
children, your health, your friends, and your favorite passions.
Things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter, like your job, your house, and your car.

The sand is everything else--the small stuff.

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no
room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you
spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have
room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.

Play with your children.
Take time to get medical checkups.
Take your partner out to dinner.
Play another 18.

There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal.

Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter.

Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented.

The professor smiled.

"I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

In Mushroomville

It's five o'clock somewhere. I want a margarita.

Here we go: Got up early and drove with the hubby to Sacramento for his appointment with Oncology. It's about a 2 1/2 hour drive one way. We get there about an hour and a half early because I find out Mr. Mushy thinks his appointment is an hour earlier than it is. I told him last night what time the appointment was and asked when he wanted to leave. Duh. That's okay though, it worked out. We had enough time to go have breakfast someplace together, something we don't get to do a lot. Got to his appointment on time, waited a half hour for a ten minute appointment. That's all it took. Doctor checked the labs, did a little poke, prod and listen. Mr. Mushy is fine. The doctor used the 'cured' word. I refuse to. I've had too much experience with cancer to do that. Cancer can slap you along the side of the head when you least expect it like a big old smelly fish. In three more years I'll let my guard down and in eight years, Lady willing, I'll finally believe it. Mr Mushy's liver is still doing some abnormal things, but his GP is watching it with the theory it's the meds. So, we don't have to make the trip to Sacramento again until Jan. 2005.

On the way home, I drove. *insert long string of cussing here* I'm watching the guy behind me who happens to be riding my bumper. Left lane is motoring along great. That's about to abruptly change. Everyone is putting on their brakes, myself included. The difference is, I have to steer off to the left side, onto the shoulder. Why? Because dorkness behind me, Mr. Bumper Man is headed for my bumper. I also don't want my front bumper to eat the back bumper of the guy in front of me. We're not driving " The Tank" (our truck) we borrowed Troll's little truck, car, suv, whatever it's classified as. Gas for Troll's vehicle down and back cost us only about $30.00. If we had taken "The Tank" it would have cost a little over $100.00 round trip. So you can see why I wanted to be very careful with Troll's car. He has insurance, but that's not the point. The point being that I would NEVER EVER hear the end of it. He loves me, but that's his baby. Back to the story, why did everyone slam on their brakes? Because everyone wanted to watch the CDF (Calif. Division of Forestry) put out a grass fire off to the right of the road. Come on people! This is California. We have fires all the time. It's not like this is something new. Let's try not to kill each other. What's a little grass burning with water covering it? Geez.

Sprout came home from work yesterday afternoon not good. What should have tipped me off was that he asked me for a glass of water while he headed straight for the bathroom. He said he was really thirsty. He works construction and has a good sized water jug. He went straight to bed, another thing not like him and it was only 5 pm. He got up when the phone rang. It was Sprout's boss checking up on him. Sprout came out late to eat and was in pain. Apparently he had this pain in his lower right groin region. My thought was his appendix. The poor lad was almost in tears. I offered to haul him down to the ER room last night. He wouldn't go. When I got up this morning I asked him how he felt. He said the pain was nearly gone, although before I left he was saying it was starting to hurt again. When I called later in the morning, Sprout had gone to work. I am still waiting on him to get home. There's been no word all day. Mama 'Shroom is a bit worried.

My thoughts are that since he ran out of water, he became dehydrated and cramped up, bad. He may have also gotten some heat exhaustion in there too. He was dang tired this morning despite all the sleep he got last night. Sleep is a great healer so that tells me something is not normal with Sprout. I don't think it's his appendix although I am watching that. As my daughter so graphically put it, Sprout was not ready to rip my eyes out of their sockets when I touched the sore area last night. Graphic isn't she? They all are. I'm not sure who they get that from, their father or myself. Although I was/am worried about Sprout, I could throttle the young man. I am trying to get some idea of what kind of pain. I am asking questions, same kind the doctor is going to ask (I pointed that out to Sprout too and his response was: I'll tell him the same thing). All Sprout is saying is, it hurts. *eye roll* okay, I got that. Is it a sharp pain like someone is jabbing needles into your flesh? Is it a dull throbbing pain? All I get is, " It hurts!" Well Duh.

Hopefully the kid will be home soon. I trust his boss. He's a neighbor as well and he knew Sprout wasn't up to par so he's going to keep his eye on the kid. Troll was home all day and there were no phone calls, so I am hoping all is well.

Lastly but not least:

CalTrans has given us the okay as a supplier. They investigated our process for supplying materials and our proof of being of commercial use. We got the green light. Of course, we had to trim some things from what we will be bidding on in the future. That's okay. So long as we remain in the game I am content. I'm not greedy. Money is nice, but slow and steady keeps me secure. This was the day before yesterday. Yesterday, we get another phone call from another CalTrans personage who verifies bids and she wanted the same info we had already provided before to someone else. So, the hubby came home today and called this personage and explained we had already been established as a legit supplier. She doesn't have the info. Apparently they are so overworked and haven't had the opportunity to have a depart. meeting to discuss all this and share info yet. What she required of us was due by the end of business today. With the phone call we now just need to check back with the other person who got the fax of info we sent over to make sure this other personage gets it. Confused? Welcome to our boat. Bottom line is she's going to check, we're going to follow up and everything should work out. From my mouth to the Lady's ear and may her Grace settle upon our shoulders. Monday.

Update-4:32pm: Sprout just walked in the door. He feels fine and took a salt tablet today. He also had plenty of water. I think I can now crash and vegetate.

Just One... *snicker*

Take the quiz: "Which Tarot Arcana are You? (women)"

High Priestess
Hidden influences at work, unrevealed future. Creative forces of the subconscious, the female side of the brain at work for the artist, poet and mystic. A woman of great intuition, inner illumination.

Where's My Nail Gun?

My name is 'Shroom and I live in a compost pile. I likes it. Yesssss, I does. It's dark in here and if I don't open the bloody door, the drama doesn't come in. Gah! I'm too bloody old to keep dealing in drama. Back when I was so young I was a drama queen and I adored my reign. It was my time, but like all queens, at some point I had to retire. I kicked the crap into the closet, slammed the door. Every now and then I hear the commotion, but I just get out the nail gun and nail that damn door shut. Sometimes, I step out of the hovel, into The Grove and the damn stuff finds me. I usually go into my 'shroom stance. Oh come on now, you've all seen mushrooms growing, I know you have. That's THE STANCE and if I'm real quiet, drama darts by and I don't have to deal with it. 'Shrooms develop a tough skin as they get older.

Drama does not make me feel more alive, it wears me out. I find myself withdrawing every time I run into it or it runs into me. I acknowledge that youth needs drama. They can't help it. It's all part of that long haul. What I do have is the right not to have to bear witness to it. Do I hold it against anyone? No. I just have become more realistic and brutally truthful with myself about things and people. Sometimes, it makes me sound or seem callous. I don't mean it that way. I just don't cope well. Maybe I've become a cynic in my old age, but I look at drama and think to myself... what the hell was that in aid of and who does it serve? You can bet your bottom dollar I never thought of that when it was my turn as drama queen. No siree. But now it is my turn to wear the shoe on the other foot.. what goes around, comes around. I just hope I have a bit more patience with it. I never was a patient person.. it wasn't one of my virtues. I had it knocked into me by Life. Patience is not something you can teach. It's something you must learn.

Drama.. it's the other white meat... think I'll go look in the pantry and see what else there is.

Flotsam in a Cell-less Mushroom

Maybe it's just dust bunnies, hm? Well, I'm certainly not getting rid of them. They keep me company.

Homefront: *knock wood* All is quiet for the moment. The new babies are starting to open their eyes and getting even more rolly-polly than ever. The shelties still don't know what to make of these tiny furballs, but Bubba (aka Cherokee) has taken to being their unofficial protector. He pokes his head into the drawer when they start crying and has taken to lying right beside the drawer. Now if I could just get him to quit barking at the wandering geese at 6am, I would be so happy.

Business front: All's quiet there too. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. According to the State's website, we still have our certification. There just isn't any news one way or the other. Phone calls have been placed but no return calls. Still no sign of our DBE cert either. I refuse to draw negativity, suffice it to say, it just sounds like the state.

As for Da 'Shroom... well, I'm not sure. Maybe it's planetary alignment.. maybe it's even GQS (we do share a braincell)... maybe it's just me... but there's this inner sense of restlessness, of questioning... of the scales not being harmoniously balanced and I am not sure why. Being realistic I know this mood will pass, being curious, I want to know where the hell it came from and why. I am not feeling dissatisfied. I don't feel useless. I don't feel like I haven't accomplished anything with my life because I know dang well I have. Part of me dislikes the daily routine, part of me wouldn't trade it for the world. It has occurred to me that maybe I need to get away from here for a day or two, reground myself as it were. By this time last year we had gotten away a few times. With business being slow, I rather play the ant to the grasshopper. Last year it was the grasshopper's turn. It's not like I don't have projects pending or in the works because I do. I just don't think that's what is ailing me at the moment. Well, I'm bound to figure it out, sooner or later, or the mood will change. It always does. I just need to lie low and let it wash over me. When stuff like this hits me, I start doing little everyday things, simple things and everything else works itself out.

Wow

Where do I start? What a weekend. Friday's Reba McEntire concert was marvelous. She sings from the heart. She did a a song called, "Forever Love". I believe that's the title of it. The song went out to our military personnel. There were photos flashed up on the screen behind her. The final one that coincided with the end of the song was a picture of a cemetery, row upon row of simple, unadorned crosses, each flying a small US flag. I don't believe there was a dry eye in the place. The end of the concert was not to be the end, with the chanting of her name that grew louder and louder, Ms. McEntire returned to stage to do one last number. I must confess, it was my first ever concert. I just never had the opportunity to go before.

Sunday afternoon The Sprout, Troll and I went to see "Arthur". The hubby had to do some volunteer work at the Veterans Hall. If you haven't seen it yet, you better leave all your preconceived ideas of Arthur, Guinevere and Merlin behind. You won't get anything you're use to seeing or reading there. It not only puts a different spin on Arthur and his knights, but it seems to offer a much more realistic view. I will admit, as much as I liked it, I still like my romantic view of Arthur too. I think the story could have been more developed in regards to the characters and perhaps in regards to Camelot too. Although "Arthur" centered more around the man, his knights and his future queen than anything else. I don't think it will be a smashing blockbuster hit in the theatre, but I know I'll buy the dvd if and when it comes out.

Oh yes! One other thing. Switch gears here. Our other contractor paid off too. The wench from hell got her money over the weekend. That should keep her happy for, oh, at least a week. She'll be back to nagging us over the other account, the one that looks like the funds will come out of our own pocket since my hubby is the one who erred. Long story, don't want to go there. Luckily for us, it is not a fortune. Still, the amount is enough to make me grind my teeth over.

Because I took a sabbatical from the every day, ordinary routine this weekend, I have much to do to catch up. I caught up on my writing for the moment. I'm good to go until my writing partner tosses something out. Now if only I could quit falling asleep and missing him online. The mild weather we experienced last week is coming to an end. We're headed back up into the high 90's. Ugh. Not to worry, in a few months I'll be complaining about the cold. *chuckle*

Thursday's Sigh

It's Thursday, already? I know for some people they are probably welcoming the thought that it's nearly the end of the work week. I remember those days. For me, since I work out of my home and the kids are grown, the days seem to blur. While the kids were in school I could keep track of the days and the calendar easier. There's no such thing as a short work week for me so, yeah, the week has flown by.

There is blessed relief in that the heat has abated somewhat. We're talking mid-90's to lower 90's here. It is a delightful welcome.

The hubby came home this morning from an appointment with his doctor. Everything is fine. His PSA count is within normal range. Thank the Lady for small blessings. Next Friday we go to see his oncologist. I am not expecting anything disturbing there. The hubby has not shown any signs that he had before the colon cancer was diagnosed. The blood test showed no change but they want to physically see him anyway. It's going to be a long day as we opted to drive down and drive back all in the same day.

Oh! And the wench from Hell will probably be comforted. We got a check from one of our clients today. Her check is ready and waiting to be mailed. Her company is not all that far from here, perhaps five to ten minutes from my daughter's house and she's about 15 minutes away from me. We could have chosen to take the check to her directly, but I am being adverse. When this season started, she wanted not only a two party check (made out to her company and ours), which was acceptable and a few companies prefer it, but she wanted the payment mailed directly to their office. No way, no how. We gave her the opportunity to bail out of having anything further to do with us, she saw the dollar signs instead, fine, her choice, but I'll be damned if she is going to lay down terms at this late date. There is no reason why the hubby should have to make a special trip to their office just to take them the check, unless she wants to pay for the gas? I hardly think so. Some part of my mind is whispering that when they get this check, probably tomorrow or Saturday, we're going to get a phone call because she is not going to be happy that it came to us at all. Tough cookies, sister. I am not going to allow her to manipulate us, hence my adversity. We expect another check from the other client, probably tomorrow.

Switch gears. The babies are still in my bottom drawer. I have removed my clothing. Sigh. The things I do for the animals around here sometimes. I must be getting old and soft in the head. I was just falling asleep last night and a couple of the babies started up crying. I grabbed a flashlight and went to check on them, hard on my heels was Cheyenne, my female sheltie. We both peered into the drawer and I surmised that the commotion was raised by the fact that one of them either got his milk jug stolen or he couldn't find one. I'm tired. I am not hunting around to find him one either, he can find his own. It's every kitten for themselves, bud..have at it. Cheyenne and I went back to bed. I have to feel for Serenity (mama cat) she is a perpetual milking machine that works on a 24/7 basis.

I think I've found some of the reason for my sleeplessness, a few pebbles in the road of marital bliss as it were. They are things I have to work through and finding some clarity here is not an easy thing. I guess it comes down to what is acceptable to me, what I can live with and what I can't. It's also facing answers of whether or not he can change, how does it all fit into his mental health and who does it damage more, him or I in regards to changes or no changes. It all sounds cryptic to you out there, I know. I am being deliberately vague. One always has to be constantly aware that this is a public journal and sometimes you can't just live in the fish bowl... sometimes, you have to go inside the house.

Plans for this weekend include: Going to the Reba McEntire concert tomorrow evening. Our oldest son and his wife will be there too. I am looking forward to spending some time with them and enjoying the concert. Tentative plans to see " Arthur " at the theatre on Sunday afternoon.

Just Checking In

The new babies are doing well, getting fat. The litter consists of, 2 blacks, 2 grays and two whites. They also break down into 3 males and 3 females. Btw, Sprout won the numbers pool.

The weather this week is suppose to cool down and today seems to be proving it. Yesterday it was 108 degrees F. Today was in the high 90's. It's suppose to cool off as the week progresses.

I haven't been sleeping well at nights, staying up until about 3 or 4 am. I manage to drift off, but I always seem to wake right back up. I don't know what is causing it, but I sure wish it would resolve itself. I also find myself waking up around 6am or so. Yes, I have deep shadows under my eyes, so attractive *snort*.

The wench from hell called yesterday, made my teeth grind. Mr. Mushroom (or Mushy as I fondly call him) called her right back. Hell, I don't know what her problem is. We told her we were looking to get paid this week. It was a long weekend and only the first working day of it. Sheesh. We also got on her about some bills of laden for a claim we need to file with a bonding company in regards to a construction company that bailed out. It's been three months now that we've been requesting it. She mumbled something about making some phone calls. We're talking $14,000.00 here. Hello! The good news is, the companies that owe us money (which we owe to the wench from hell) advised checks went out today. Okay, the check is in the mail... it had better be. I want this woman off our backs so we can stop doing business with her. Of course that isn't going to happen anytime soon, especially until we get this delinquent account off our hands.

I hope the weather does cool down. We have tickets to see Reba McEntire in concert Friday night. It's an outdoor concert, so I don't want to be sweating up a storm... hm, what to wear... yes, definitely clothes... something that keeps the pesty bugs at bay and is still cool.

That's all I can think of for right now from The Grove. I need a nap.

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The Tiny Mews of Life

At about 7:30 am the 'shroom was abruptly pulled from a deep sleep and a weird dream (so she was thankful) by a sound she has known forever. It was a distressed little cry. Leaning over, she shook Mr. Mushy awake and told him she needed his help. The distress call was ongoing and with a bit of thankful silence in the compost pile, she was able to locate the sound. It was coming from her bottom clothing dresser drawer, where she kept her pants and shorts. There lying on the folded clean clothing was the preggers kitty and after digging into the drawer, 'shroom located the newly born kitten that apparently had slid off the clothing and down into a crack between clothes and the drawer front.

Da `shroom sent Mr. Mushy out to get an old sheet in the garage, set there for just this occasion. In the meantime, 'shroom set about removing her clothing, speaking softly to the new mother, who was in the throes of delivering another baby. Swiftly as she could, she removed what clothing she could and laid out the old sheet.

Now Mr. Mushy has raised pedigree dogs for most of his life. He has even delivered a few foals in his time, but kitties are out of his forte. 'Shroom informed him that the new momma will take care of birthing and cleaning up all by herself. 'Shroom did watch over her though. The dogs were banished from the bedroom for the delivery. They were not pleased. They will get over it.

Miss Serenity, the hussy cat, now new mommy, has delivered 6 very hungry babies and the last two are pure white. That is unusual as Miss Serenity and who the household believe to be the daddy, are not white. Now `shroom excelled in genetics in school, so she knows very well how this all works and the possibilities. Right now, she shaking her head over the fact that the 'Zoo' has now grown by six. The idea of kitties and puppies (herding puppies no less) running all over this place is enough to give her the vapors.

And who won the betting pools? Gotta go look that one up. After the search for the aspirin is done.....

K.S

Funny how one starts off in one direction and with nothing more than a phone call, it all changes. What started off as a lazy morning with no direction other than a shower, has turned into something sad.

I have an online friend, a lady I met online about, oh gosh, back when Prodigy had their bulletin boards. We have been friends ever since. I can not tell you how near and dear she is to me. Through the years she has always been there, always watching over me. She lives in Texas, she's nurse. She is one of the most caring, loving people I know. She's a writer and writes for one of the genres that I also write in. I finally got to meet this lovely woman almost a year ago. It was wonderful. She is wonderful, as I always knew she would be. She has been through her lot of ups and downs and we're both Aquarians so I think we understand each other better and often without words. Our differences are that she's a better person than I am or could ever hope to be and that's not just me waxing poetic either. It simply is.

Over the years, she has called me, just to say hello and that usually tells me she was thinking of me. She never expects anything in return. In truth, I would have called her back many times and either I got busy and it got too late or I can't remember her schedule. It's always her calling me and that always makes me feel bad.

Today, she called me. My phone in the bedroom wasn't working and by the time I rushed to the livingroom, she had hung up. When I heard the message on the answering machine, I knew something was up. She never asks me to call her back. I did. Immediately. Her father passed away this morning. She needed me to contact a mutual dear friend for her and it was a done deal. There's not much I wouldn't do for her.

She has my shoulder and my ear, anytime she needs it, no matter the time or day. I know she'll take me up on it if she needs to. Even if she doesn't need me, she knows I am here for her.

Losing a parent is unlike anything I have ever been through. I have seen my share, been through my share of deaths, but when it comes to a parent, it leaves you in a place of no comparison. So, today, I will light a candle for her, her dad, and her family. Today, my heart is somber and sore because she is hurting so and trying to be strong for everyone, including herself. I love her dearly and I wish I could heal her of this pain and know I can not, only Time can do that.

She is a strong woman, with strong and deep spiritual convictions. She understands Life and its cycles. She will come through this and she will be okay. But for right now, she is a daughter, mourning the loss of her dad.

May his crossing be a gentle, warm, loving one.
May she feel the love and strength those who care for her offer up for her use.
May the Lady comfort them all....

Shhhhhh!

It seems to be shaping up into an easy, quiet, vegetative day. The most energy I have expended so far was to wash the shelties. I have been mentally deciding if I should do some writing while I have the chance, but currently, I am role playing in Camelot.

Camelot... that brings to mind a few other things. The channel is a good one. We are not strict as most role playing channels, out of character chatter is acceptable so long as it does not become a nuisance while others are role playing. When events can lead to a large crowd or just merely a joyful time, everyone has a great time. It is damn near impossible and totally unreasonable to expect we can keep such times always happening. What I can't lay my finger on is in between times and why there isn't a constant flow of role play. One of the things that stands out is the lack of a general storyline for the channel. I also think some people are not sure about joining in on something for fear of putting their foot in wrong. That fear could easily be relieved by asking questions in private to the one who started the line before posting to the general public. Another problem is that most times, it falls to one or two individuals to start some sort of storyline. I still think that Camelot needs a core of writers, people who would draw up outlines of plots for the channel. Then it could be tossed out for others to join in. That way it would not fall to just one or two. There is always writers' block and burnout to consider, but I can not help but think a core of writers would help relieve that. This, a clique, does not make, but merely a base from which to draw from for the enrichment and furtherment of the channel. Others can be added to the core lot from time to time as needed. It may seem contrived, but I don't believe it would interfere with the free form style we endorse. It would not mean that this core of writers would have to constantly come up with some sort of plot for the channel. I would think it sufficient to divide the year up and come up with a few plots for the year. In the interim, others could work it into their own individual storylines or not, as they so choose. I do think the channel needs more than just a general guideline for behavior and channel rules. Individual storylines are always encouraged, but I think to draw the channel in, to make it feel 'whole', there is a need for something that would call for channel involvement.

Okay, I have officially gone brain dead, of course, someone could be cell sucking *ahem*

Friday's Grace

Wow. It's Friday again. The week, to me, seems to have flown by. I notice that more and more the older I get. Time is flying by. Funny how it seems to take forever to turn twenty-one and then feels like it's in a stall somewhere around thirty something and by my mid-forties, *zoom*. Now, I have to say here, there still are weeks or even months that seem to dig their toes in the dirt and just drag on through, but those times seem to be getting less frequent.

The kids seem to be settling into their place. They're taking their time with the unpacking. The grandchildren seem to be acting up a bit, but then their routine has been interrupted. I have to caution the daughter so she doesn't try to velcro them to the wall.

The Grove, more fondly known as "The Zoo" is well. Other than the last two rough weeks of barking and growling at each other, we're headed into the Fourth of July weekend quite pleasantly. Now, you all know that is like quicksilver and can change on a whim. I am keeping my baseball bat within arm's length.

The Sprout has just come through a mild case of food poisoning. He must be feeling better, he's been giving me loving grief since he came home from work. Of course not having to sit on a pillow seems to help his winning dispostion *snort*.

Troll is anxiously awaiting for the arrival of tomorrow. Apparently his Distrtict Manager is headed up from Sacramento. Troll's General Manager seems to think he's getting the axe tomorrow, meaning the GM not Troll, btw. I do not feel sorry for the GM at all. Anything that happens to the GM, he brought on himself. It's been a long time coming. The GM has been getting away with so much crap it's unbelieveable. Where does Troll fit into all this? We haven't got the slightest clue. Troll is one of the Asst. Managers and the DM asked if Troll was going to be working tomorrow, which the answer was an affirmative. I guess we will have to wait until tomorrow to find out what goes down. No one knows when the DM is coming up either. The last thing Troll said to me before leaving for work today was, "If the DM shows up early (like 8am early) that will not be a good thing." Troll doesn't think his job is on the line at all, but with the DM in a bad mood all week, one just can't be too sure about anything.

The hubby had to step up to the plate and take over being Captain for the District Veterans Honor Guard, at least until they get everything straightened out. The former captain just upped and quit. I warned the hubby that if this new job stresses him out or affects his health in any way, it's over. Period.

As for me, the little mushroom, my days are intermingled with good and exhausted. I know I need to make some time for me alone. I can feel it. I am starting to feel more and more isolated and that isn't good. I have rolled with the punches these past few weeks and they have taken their toll. I'm just not sure how to go about what needs to be done or how to get from this point to the one I need to be at. Family is everything to me, but I need some seclusion, to regenerate. I also need to find some way to reconnect with a certain part of myself that I've seem to misplaced or lost.... that part... I am not so sure I'll find.....

Stirring the Compost Around

This blog probably won't be of much interest to anyone but myself. Writing it out helps put some things into perspective for me. This has to do with role playing online. I have two references here, one is Camelot, medieval role playing in times beyond King Arthur and the second being, Double Moon, an erotic role playing venue. While Double Moon has an online channel, it's seldom used. I think the time factor and real life have a way of crunching it, but we make up for it via our Yahoo Email Group.

I have to say that Double Moon (or DM for short) seems to run fairly well and easily. There is seldom any problem staying within the guidelines that my partner and I have set. When trouble does poke its little nose out, one of us, if not both, roll up a newspaper and smack it. Things settle back in. Over the years, behind the scenes, there have been some growlings, but out of the ears and eyes of us both. Word gets around, I usually find out things. I think the most satisfying thing for me is to provide such a safe and guarded playground for other of like mind to play in. Now and then, my partner and I drop in but we feel no obligation to do so. The list runs itself for the most part and is productive.

I just wish I could get a handle on Camelot's problem. I have been there long enough to qualify as an 'old timer'now, not as 'old' as some, but old enough. Camelot has been accused of having cliques. I can see where it appears that way, but I don't believe it to be true. Like minds attract. Some people are born idea people, some are support, some are action. In business management, we use what each person is good at to the best advantage of the company. I see the channel like that. Some people can create a great storyline, some are better at being supportive or feeding the storyline and some people can take an idea and kick it off the ground. In this case, it seems as if it all falls upon the same shoulders all the time. There also has to be those who keep things in line and focused so plots don't go off the deep end somewhere.

Maybe part of the problem is the lack of definite lines. Someone has to draw a line in the dirt and say, " This is the line. It doesn't get crossed. Period. " The lines are not open to negotiation or interpretation.

In a channel, such as Camelot, it was created by a single person's vision. One can not please all the people all the time. The internet is a broad and vast place. If someone doesn't see something in the same manner or fashion, there is no reason why they can't go off and create their own utopia. This one channel is representative of a single vision, shared by like minds, not minds that can step in and change it to their interpretation or even tweak it to make them comfortable. We have made concessions. We have blurred the lines. Now, there is confusion and chaos. To fix it would take a major overhaul and cause hurtful feelings among some because they have been allowed to play to their whim. Where does it stop? When some get fed up? Do we pick up our toys and disappear? Do we turn the channel over? Or do we stop the nonsense? Do we clean house and begin again? Yes, there is a point when we all have to learn to get along and play nicely together or at least remain civil and play through. When do we stop the actions of a person because they're driving others bonko? When do we say, listen, your character is out of control, reign it in or there's the door? When do we know we have a problem? When more than one person has the same complaint seems logical to me. When do the feelings of one person override the good of the channel? And who has the balls to do anything about it? Is anyone above all this? Yeah. I'd have to say so. Founders. It is their vision, their channel. If I need to get my little arse bent over someone's knee and whalloped for being out of line, so be it. I can't read minds. I can't know if I crossed a line unless someone tells me so. Then I have a choice to make, either I can tow the line or get out.

Because Camelot attracts many diiferent people, it takes a diligent, strong effort to keep Her on subject, in vision. Without that strength, there is chaos and loss of interest. The channel is not a democracy nor does it belong to everyone. It is a gentle dictatorship and belongs to those who founded it. If you can't find what you're looking for, feel free to take your own vision and start something anew.

Build it and someone may come... just leave our playground the way you found it.