I MADE IT!
8 years ago
OnceAgain
I was just thinkin' and then I started typin'
Monday, September 7, 2015
Will My Real Daddy Please Stand Up?
The last few weeks have been amazingly painful. I have experienced them almost as if I have been viewing the events from outside of myself looking down, or perhaps, from standing aside. In either case, it has been discomfiting to see this person going through the throes of pain and near agony of her realization as she comes to terms with her true "Daddy.
My parents divorced and separated; no really - separated; when I turned 12. One month Dad was in the vicinity and then, "POOF!", gone. He'd moved away for a job or some such reason and that was that. We saw him a couple of years later for a few weeks in the summer and then there was another drought.
That became the standard, the pattern. He'd dip a toe in our lives every 3 or 4 years. A weekend or so. Then those times stretched out further and further. A one point, until I reached out and made the effort, the contact, we had nothing but the rare occasional phone call; maybe Christmas card; for 15 years.
And those were because I'd had children; his grandchildren.
When we did meet up after that time, he kept introducing me as his, "Daughter that I haven't seen for over 15 years."
I remember how I appeared to just smile it off and paid no attention. But I was inwardly pissed. Who's fault was it that we'd been so estranged? HIS. I was always the one making the overtures, the gestures, the entreaties. He was just the recipient. And then it was still always on his terms.
ALWAYS.
And so we bumped along. Just coasted and made do because that was all that could be done. Again, is terms.
In the meantime, the child, real childish part of me, invented this persona to fill in the gaps for the missing man known as "Daddy." In my mind the guy that was gone was gone because he was doing all the wonderful things on his job jaunts. He was a bush pilot. He ferried planes to South America. He worked for Bell Helicopter in Vietnam and endured the Tet Offensive.
Any letter that came, I took the stories he shared and made the bits of information into novels of grandeur and adventure. Made the missing link larger than life. Made Clark Kent into Superman even though he never once took off the glasses or ran into a phone booth or changed into the suit and cape.
And I know it didn't cost him a cent when the Summer unfolded as it has. But it cost me. I watch him crash and burn as I spent more and more time around him and he never thought to try and hide his true persona.
Not that he could.
You see, my Father is arrogant, self-righteous, staid, controlling, and manipulative.
And after I finally got my act together and stop letting him push my buttons so much; he's had fits.
He does not like that I've decided to reassert myself in my own home. He's become bitter and resentful that I've returned to my job. He's done any and everything to try and wedge between myself and my husband. And each time he's foiled, he tries harder the next time.
And there's absolutely no reason for it.
I already resent him enough as it is. I've gone from taking care of my Dad to taking care of my Father. He's become just an obligation.
His constant need to make life difficult and do whatever he can to take over and rule my home even while in the midst of purchasing his own? Well, it has not done anything to endear him to either me or my hubby.
He's purchasing his own place, but when any papers or correspondence come to him - he hands to stuff to the Hubby. Doesn't look at it, just hands it over. He doesn't want to deal with it. Doesn't say please or will you look at this for me or I need help or or or , just hands it to Hubs and moves on along. He expects it to be taken care of.
But Lord forbid we tell him there's a hold up or something isn't ready yet. A hew and cry erupts like you wouldn't believe. I finally got that to cease by warning him, one more gripe and he was handling it all on his own. And he would do it from a hotel. Enough was enough. And oh, by the way, I'd better here him tell my husband thank you every time he assisted the Old Man with any part of the new home anything.
When he squinched his face up to protest, I leaned in and flat told him, you mess with me, fine, you mess with my guy, back up an reconsider your options. Hubs has been real good to you and he deserves respect. Hand it over Bub.
Friday, August 7, 2015
Out of Time
How do we get so freakin' busy? I have meant to get back here every day and have failed. Absolutely failed. Time just rushes by and then it's another day. Another missed chance.
Time has become more precious as of late. We're older now so it seems to pass faster. The sun rises and sets quicker. Years are shorter. New Year's was just a few weeks ago; wasn't it?
Of course not. It just seems that way.
And my father has become a "time liability." He moves slowly, he refuses to make decisions, he forgets the decisions he has made, and he angers easily about appointments being made around the schedules of other people.
Dad is Dadcentric. Never mind that he doesn't want to drive, (thank God), or go anywhere by himself, but he expects you to schedule everything when he wants it scheduled.
Now if you ask him when that would be...anytime. Except when you scheduled it.
And so the days zip by and suddenly I'm faced with the fact that I've failed to post yet again. Which is what led to this.
Write something! Let them, yourself, anyone, and
everyone know you're still kickin'.
I'm still kickin'. And still trying to grab time by the tail and make it slow down, just a bit, so I can catch up and enjoy the moment.
OnceAgain
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Living with the Elderly
Good Lord,
I knew it had been awhile, but this long? Really?!
I guess so.
Apologies. I've really been letting things get away from me. Look what happens when you get sick and stop with things and start with others.
My life is so out of control.
I guess I can go back into my email files and use some of those as "catch ups."
Or not.
We'll see.
But right now, I'm on leave from my teaching job with my Dad living with me. I brought him East from California after my Stepmom passed away.
It isn't easy living with an elderly person. Believe me. I knew from what I had seen my Patients and Friends go thru, but to experience first hand is something else. Hell.
Dad is difficult. I know he's just lost his wife of 43 years. I know he's moved across the Country. I know he's living in a strange home and not under conditions he'd like. I know; I know; I know.
But he's also playing games and trying to manipulate us (myself and my husband) to get his way and to play us off against each other. He's like a child with his parents. Tell Dad 1 thing and Mom another and watch them as they get frustrated and angry (hopefully from the "kid's point of view).
I guess it's a fun for him. Not for us. We are standing united.
He hates that. Hates it.
To move him out here was a nightmare. He changed his mind as to where he wanted to settle about 5 times. Meanwhile I just kept packing up the house. 1 box at a time.
He packed and unpacked and repacked his bedroom. 5 boxes for 2.5 weeks. Oh, yea!
Occasionally, he ventured out to his workshop and played out there. It was a tiny thing and he claimed he did a lot of packing. So why was there a panicked tape attack on the contents the day we packed up the Uhaul?
And when it came to paying for all of this as he promised - remember, I'm on sabbatical (no pay)and Skip's between job's(no pay)- he tried to back out. "I never ask you to do all this."
Oh, yes he did. He begged us to do this. He didn't want to stay in that house with all the memories. He cried and ask us not to leave him alone on the West Coast by himself and said he'd pay for everything. He just needed us for the logistics and muscle.
As if I'd leave my elderly, forgetful Dad like that. I mean, come on.
And we still used $3,000 out of our savings to help when we least could afford because he's our blood.
And we've yet to receive a thank you or even a grunt of gratitude.
So he is here, and he did write a check so we can pay our bills another month. But he is pouty about it.
And today he's out and about with my husband. He was acting frail, but Skip gave him the "eye." Suddenly all was better. Amazing. A cure with a look.
This is going to be some adventure.
I may pull my hair out.
OnceAgain
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Letter to my Boys
It has occurred to me that the reason I've not been able to Post has been all the letters I've written. So I'm now going to edit them a bit and do a copy/paste and here we shall go. I'll leave out some "good" stuff to be sure, but still include what would be thrown in one of my normal rants/raves.
Otherwise, it's back to the dry spells. And this one lasted way too long.
My apologies. Once/Again
Good Evening,
I hope all are well and warm this fine crisp evening. I have just finished putting the final touches on a bit of school work. Not that it matters a bit. The Kids won't see it until next Tuesday.
Yup. Due to road conditions, etc., we've not been able to start the Winter Quarter as of yet. 'Tis been due to that old devil the evil global warming trend that has kept the temperature in the lower 20's and upper teens with a brisk, icy breeze that wakes one up like the whack of a fist to the jaw when it touches your skin.
I'm longing for my old Dr. Denton's with their footsies that were so very warm. Besides, I was awfully darn cute in them. Well, as a toddler anyway. Now I'd probably look a bit ridiculous, but one must do what one must do in cold weather.
And Skip is threatening all kinds of mayhem should my feet come near any part of him again until next July. Just because he was snoring the other night and I was sure he'd sleep through a tootsie warm up and I had had on socks and I just touch his ankle with my toes. You'd have thought the dude had been shot. I mean really. It wasn't like I'd put my whole foot on him or anything.
So much for give and take in marriage. You guys are such a selfish bunch with some things.
I will so be avenged. Just as soon as I think of something.
You wait.
Oh, back to the school dealiebobber. I drove over today 'cause it was open to essential Staff. They let me in anyway. And I worked on the Medical Lab and got some stuff set up. Also got my hands on my Student Rosters.
It's gonna be fun. My A&P1 class is 38. Largest classroom in the new building holds 34.
I feel a bit of a condundrum developing. But never fear. I shot a message off to he-who-holds-all-power and ask for 2 more tables and 4 more chairs. Did not ask him to decrease the class size, did you notice? Not I. I know of a few others that do when their classes top 20. But I figure, hey, the more the merrier. I can warp and mess with 'em in a large herd as well as a small one.
I'll just have to brew my evil elixer in 2 cauldrons, not one. Don't want to strain the old wrists, ya know.
And I are not a coward. Nope. I can handle 'em. Matter a fact, it's usually them that's a bit cautious 'round me. Only the ones that get a bit too rowdy. One of the Kids said it was something about the way I'd look over at them that made them just want to get kinda quiet.
I just figure it's the way Grandmama used to look at us when we'd messed up. She had that way of making you sorta freeze in your tracks and stop. Speaking of which.
The worst time I remember it was the day Carole and Maggie put Maxine in the freezer. Ok; 1st, she wasn't in long at all. I ratted us out. 2nd, we all got switched, well except Maxine, for the caper. Carole and Maggie for the deed, me 'cause it was my idea. Maxine didn't get switched, but she got in trouble for agreeing to it.
And I wouldn't have ratted, but we had trouble getting the top back up. I think we kinda paniced in hindsite, but you know how it goes when you're kids. Oh, the look we got. Oh, the switchin' we got.
The 4 of us used to think up things to do to pass the time of day. Like jumping off the chicken coops, or leaping off the top of the slide instead of sliding, or burying each other in the sandbox, or using our batons as swords, or rolling down that hill in back of the old barn. Girl stuff.
Come to think of it, we were mean as snakes. But only to each other. Probably explains alot about our relationships now. But not to worry. None of us have batons anymore so it's cool.
I do have a freezer, though.
So on to better things. The weather will be warmer tomorrow. 30. Yup, heat wave. And this after I finished shoveling the driveway. Yes, I have a snow shovel. Same 1 I brought down from St. Louie. It's really new looking still. After all it doesn't get a lot of use here. Which I like. But we've used it a bit these last couple of days. Skip worked on the drive Monday and Tuesday. I got out there this afternoon when I got back from the school.
The catch was I was in my mink coat. Hey, it's WARM. I like it. I wear it like a lot of people wear car coats. I haven't any blood folks. That coat is my antifreeze. I didn't think anything of wearing it until I realized that cars sounded different as they drove by. So I started looking up and realized, they were slowing down and taking a gander at me.
At that juncture, I decided, what the hell, and I started waving. Wrong move. You will probably find pictures of me on the net somewhere. Ah, yes. The infamous, cell phone camera. Thank goodness I had on makeup and sunglasses. At least I look halfway decent. And better yet, thank goodness I didn't slip and bust my butt. Oh, I slipped a couple of times, but I didn't go down.
So from now on, I guess, I'll just FREEZE, and shovel in a crummy old coat of Skip's. That way I can escape notoriety.
There world, I hope you're happy. I can't warm my feet and I gotta be sniffley and snuffley cold when I'm shoveling the white stuff.
There is no justice in this. That I must suffer so, poor innocent child that I am.
Aaaaannnnndddd not one of you are buying this. I can tell it already. Well, a gal's got to give it a shot.
But anywho, I shall bid you all a goodnight and get back to working on a paper to bring my Kids to the edge of their seats with educational joy. Or maybe keep them awake the 1st 15 minutes of class. If I'm lucky.
Hugs,
OnceAgain
Otherwise, it's back to the dry spells. And this one lasted way too long.
My apologies. Once/Again
Good Evening,
I hope all are well and warm this fine crisp evening. I have just finished putting the final touches on a bit of school work. Not that it matters a bit. The Kids won't see it until next Tuesday.
Yup. Due to road conditions, etc., we've not been able to start the Winter Quarter as of yet. 'Tis been due to that old devil the evil global warming trend that has kept the temperature in the lower 20's and upper teens with a brisk, icy breeze that wakes one up like the whack of a fist to the jaw when it touches your skin.
I'm longing for my old Dr. Denton's with their footsies that were so very warm. Besides, I was awfully darn cute in them. Well, as a toddler anyway. Now I'd probably look a bit ridiculous, but one must do what one must do in cold weather.
And Skip is threatening all kinds of mayhem should my feet come near any part of him again until next July. Just because he was snoring the other night and I was sure he'd sleep through a tootsie warm up and I had had on socks and I just touch his ankle with my toes. You'd have thought the dude had been shot. I mean really. It wasn't like I'd put my whole foot on him or anything.
So much for give and take in marriage. You guys are such a selfish bunch with some things.
I will so be avenged. Just as soon as I think of something.
You wait.
Oh, back to the school dealiebobber. I drove over today 'cause it was open to essential Staff. They let me in anyway. And I worked on the Medical Lab and got some stuff set up. Also got my hands on my Student Rosters.
It's gonna be fun. My A&P1 class is 38. Largest classroom in the new building holds 34.
I feel a bit of a condundrum developing. But never fear. I shot a message off to he-who-holds-all-power and ask for 2 more tables and 4 more chairs. Did not ask him to decrease the class size, did you notice? Not I. I know of a few others that do when their classes top 20. But I figure, hey, the more the merrier. I can warp and mess with 'em in a large herd as well as a small one.
I'll just have to brew my evil elixer in 2 cauldrons, not one. Don't want to strain the old wrists, ya know.
And I are not a coward. Nope. I can handle 'em. Matter a fact, it's usually them that's a bit cautious 'round me. Only the ones that get a bit too rowdy. One of the Kids said it was something about the way I'd look over at them that made them just want to get kinda quiet.
I just figure it's the way Grandmama used to look at us when we'd messed up. She had that way of making you sorta freeze in your tracks and stop. Speaking of which.
The worst time I remember it was the day Carole and Maggie put Maxine in the freezer. Ok; 1st, she wasn't in long at all. I ratted us out. 2nd, we all got switched, well except Maxine, for the caper. Carole and Maggie for the deed, me 'cause it was my idea. Maxine didn't get switched, but she got in trouble for agreeing to it.
And I wouldn't have ratted, but we had trouble getting the top back up. I think we kinda paniced in hindsite, but you know how it goes when you're kids. Oh, the look we got. Oh, the switchin' we got.
The 4 of us used to think up things to do to pass the time of day. Like jumping off the chicken coops, or leaping off the top of the slide instead of sliding, or burying each other in the sandbox, or using our batons as swords, or rolling down that hill in back of the old barn. Girl stuff.
Come to think of it, we were mean as snakes. But only to each other. Probably explains alot about our relationships now. But not to worry. None of us have batons anymore so it's cool.
I do have a freezer, though.
So on to better things. The weather will be warmer tomorrow. 30. Yup, heat wave. And this after I finished shoveling the driveway. Yes, I have a snow shovel. Same 1 I brought down from St. Louie. It's really new looking still. After all it doesn't get a lot of use here. Which I like. But we've used it a bit these last couple of days. Skip worked on the drive Monday and Tuesday. I got out there this afternoon when I got back from the school.
The catch was I was in my mink coat. Hey, it's WARM. I like it. I wear it like a lot of people wear car coats. I haven't any blood folks. That coat is my antifreeze. I didn't think anything of wearing it until I realized that cars sounded different as they drove by. So I started looking up and realized, they were slowing down and taking a gander at me.
At that juncture, I decided, what the hell, and I started waving. Wrong move. You will probably find pictures of me on the net somewhere. Ah, yes. The infamous, cell phone camera. Thank goodness I had on makeup and sunglasses. At least I look halfway decent. And better yet, thank goodness I didn't slip and bust my butt. Oh, I slipped a couple of times, but I didn't go down.
So from now on, I guess, I'll just FREEZE, and shovel in a crummy old coat of Skip's. That way I can escape notoriety.
There world, I hope you're happy. I can't warm my feet and I gotta be sniffley and snuffley cold when I'm shoveling the white stuff.
There is no justice in this. That I must suffer so, poor innocent child that I am.
Aaaaannnnndddd not one of you are buying this. I can tell it already. Well, a gal's got to give it a shot.
But anywho, I shall bid you all a goodnight and get back to working on a paper to bring my Kids to the edge of their seats with educational joy. Or maybe keep them awake the 1st 15 minutes of class. If I'm lucky.
Hugs,
OnceAgain
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
We Were Just Filling Up.....
Hello all.
Haven't posted in 5 forevers. I've been staying horribly busy as usual. But we did get out this weekend.
I hope all are well and relatively happy. And busy being out and about as the weather has warmed.
We went out over the Memorial Day Holiday and spent a 4 day weekend relatively close to home at a little place called Swancreek on HWY 31 between Decatur and Athens, AL. Camping and relaxing.
We just wanted to get out and away from the old homestead.
It was nice and quiet and peaceful and calm and easy going. And we spent it
with a few friends that camped with us. We had our rigs beside each other and meandered around just doin' mostly nothing.
Awesome.
It was the 1st time we'd taken Terry out proper since the unfortunate incident with the Fifth Wheel.
It's funny now. But I was upset then.
You just shouldn't figure if the truck will fit thru an area that the fiver
will. Aaaannnndddd you really should slow down as you pass gas pumps.
The only reason I caught them was the turn she had to make.
Yes, dudes, the wife was at the wheel.
We will pause for a moment as proper due is given for older than dirt jokes
about female drivers.
Time's up.
We were coming back home from visiting the grandest kids in South Alabama.
Just below Birmingham and stopped to get gas. Terry likes gas. OK. Terry luvs gas. And it takes a bit to fill that tank. It was a really nice April Sunday.
1 minute I'm stretched out on the dash looking at the sky (no clouds/beautiful) and the next I'm on my butt against that moundie thingie
between the Captain's chairs - which leaves a bruise - goin' what the hell?
Then I'm bounding; literally; out the door over the steps which got zinged and across the pavement after this truck and rig.
If she hadn't hit the brakes for a sec 'cause she nailed that curb; I'm not
sure I'd have caught them.
But granny got 'em. I was on that running board hanging in the window letting them know they hit us.
Mr. Michigan (names have been changed) goes; "no we didn't." and I go;
"dude, you knocked me off the dash!"
Then we turn and look at Terry and the mirror is dangling by these wires and stuff.
And he says something I'm thinking. I mean besides what my butt looks like
hanging outa a truck window.
And then it got kinda ugly, 'cause Skip (husband - name not changed) said,
"What do you mean you didn't hit us %$#(*&^. You callin' my wife a liar?"
And Michigan goes, "Look you %$#@*&. You don't have to get ugly!"
And they're facing off like 2 bulls snorting and scraping hoofs.
That's when I got really fried. So I put my hands up and yelled, "Everybody
shut up and back off! Not another word from you 2. Not 1 more word! I don't
want any trouble outa anyone! Got it?!"
It turned out to be pretty cool. The wife ran back to the truck and all the
folks from the gas station that had gathered just dispersed. Poof.
It makes you feel really powerful and stuff. Doesn't last long, but it's cool for a minute.
AND then you remember that your rig is hurt and you get warm all over again.
So I made them get their camera and Skip get our camera and all the proof of insurance and stuff. The cops were called and the wife (I nicknamed her Minnie Mouse) ratted me out. She told the Officer that I yelled at everyone. And I told him it was true and why. And he laughed and they got mad.
Then he ask them why they didn't go on the other side which was clear 'cause I made him look at everyone's photo's 'cause I wanted to make sure we'd documented everything correctly and they got mad again.
And they kept offering us "some cash." And I was nope the insurance companies will handle it. I haven't the foggiest what that mirror will run. And Michigan wants me to put a couple of screws in it and let it go.
That was about the time I pushed Skip to the back to finish gassing up Terry.
It's always best to err on the side of safety and I knew I'd have to be the
voice of reason.
Which if you knew me would send you into spasms.
To end this tawdry tale. Those stinkin' mirrors cost more than the $200.00 he offered. LOTS more. 2nd they sheared the darn thing off the support post so it took more to replace it than thought. I have to say it was a really smooth snap, though. Professional, even.
The steps got straightened and work much better. The seams only had a few
issues. Apparently it's not good for Class A's to be tipped up on their sides.
Bankston did some nice work on the finish where there were - smudges?
The rigs exchanged "blood."
Oh, the duct tape held thru Birmingham and the bunga, bunga, bunga we call
I-65, so the mirror didn't flop against the side of Terry and inflict further harm.
Michigan and MM never informed their insurance company. They found out from
our insurance company. But they got everything settled. And I'm known in
Calera as a truck chaser. Which is better than an ambulance chaser I 'spose.
So be careful in gas stations. You never know what's gonna happen when you're looking out the windshield at the sky.
It could get 'citin'.
OnceAgain
Haven't posted in 5 forevers. I've been staying horribly busy as usual. But we did get out this weekend.
I hope all are well and relatively happy. And busy being out and about as the weather has warmed.
We went out over the Memorial Day Holiday and spent a 4 day weekend relatively close to home at a little place called Swancreek on HWY 31 between Decatur and Athens, AL. Camping and relaxing.
We just wanted to get out and away from the old homestead.
It was nice and quiet and peaceful and calm and easy going. And we spent it
with a few friends that camped with us. We had our rigs beside each other and meandered around just doin' mostly nothing.
Awesome.
It was the 1st time we'd taken Terry out proper since the unfortunate incident with the Fifth Wheel.
It's funny now. But I was upset then.
You just shouldn't figure if the truck will fit thru an area that the fiver
will. Aaaannnndddd you really should slow down as you pass gas pumps.
The only reason I caught them was the turn she had to make.
Yes, dudes, the wife was at the wheel.
We will pause for a moment as proper due is given for older than dirt jokes
about female drivers.
Time's up.
We were coming back home from visiting the grandest kids in South Alabama.
Just below Birmingham and stopped to get gas. Terry likes gas. OK. Terry luvs gas. And it takes a bit to fill that tank. It was a really nice April Sunday.
1 minute I'm stretched out on the dash looking at the sky (no clouds/beautiful) and the next I'm on my butt against that moundie thingie
between the Captain's chairs - which leaves a bruise - goin' what the hell?
Then I'm bounding; literally; out the door over the steps which got zinged and across the pavement after this truck and rig.
If she hadn't hit the brakes for a sec 'cause she nailed that curb; I'm not
sure I'd have caught them.
But granny got 'em. I was on that running board hanging in the window letting them know they hit us.
Mr. Michigan (names have been changed) goes; "no we didn't." and I go;
"dude, you knocked me off the dash!"
Then we turn and look at Terry and the mirror is dangling by these wires and stuff.
And he says something I'm thinking. I mean besides what my butt looks like
hanging outa a truck window.
And then it got kinda ugly, 'cause Skip (husband - name not changed) said,
"What do you mean you didn't hit us %$#(*&^. You callin' my wife a liar?"
And Michigan goes, "Look you %$#@*&. You don't have to get ugly!"
And they're facing off like 2 bulls snorting and scraping hoofs.
That's when I got really fried. So I put my hands up and yelled, "Everybody
shut up and back off! Not another word from you 2. Not 1 more word! I don't
want any trouble outa anyone! Got it?!"
It turned out to be pretty cool. The wife ran back to the truck and all the
folks from the gas station that had gathered just dispersed. Poof.
It makes you feel really powerful and stuff. Doesn't last long, but it's cool for a minute.
AND then you remember that your rig is hurt and you get warm all over again.
So I made them get their camera and Skip get our camera and all the proof of insurance and stuff. The cops were called and the wife (I nicknamed her Minnie Mouse) ratted me out. She told the Officer that I yelled at everyone. And I told him it was true and why. And he laughed and they got mad.
Then he ask them why they didn't go on the other side which was clear 'cause I made him look at everyone's photo's 'cause I wanted to make sure we'd documented everything correctly and they got mad again.
And they kept offering us "some cash." And I was nope the insurance companies will handle it. I haven't the foggiest what that mirror will run. And Michigan wants me to put a couple of screws in it and let it go.
That was about the time I pushed Skip to the back to finish gassing up Terry.
It's always best to err on the side of safety and I knew I'd have to be the
voice of reason.
Which if you knew me would send you into spasms.
To end this tawdry tale. Those stinkin' mirrors cost more than the $200.00 he offered. LOTS more. 2nd they sheared the darn thing off the support post so it took more to replace it than thought. I have to say it was a really smooth snap, though. Professional, even.
The steps got straightened and work much better. The seams only had a few
issues. Apparently it's not good for Class A's to be tipped up on their sides.
Bankston did some nice work on the finish where there were - smudges?
The rigs exchanged "blood."
Oh, the duct tape held thru Birmingham and the bunga, bunga, bunga we call
I-65, so the mirror didn't flop against the side of Terry and inflict further harm.
Michigan and MM never informed their insurance company. They found out from
our insurance company. But they got everything settled. And I'm known in
Calera as a truck chaser. Which is better than an ambulance chaser I 'spose.
So be careful in gas stations. You never know what's gonna happen when you're looking out the windshield at the sky.
It could get 'citin'.
OnceAgain
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Abby?
I love reading Dear Abby. And her ilk. All those folks asking for advice on what to do with Aunt "won't- listen - to - me" or "bum - son - living - off - of - us."
The answer is always ssssoooo obvious. And they ask anyway.
What do I do? Alas, woe is me!
Get over it people! Really! Ignore the old bat back and kick "Bum" out on his ass.
But they ask anyway. I 'spect because they want to either hear what they already know; want validation for what they are about to do; or think maybe, just maybe, someone will tell them it's OK to continue to be doormats.
So sad.
Of course when it involves children it's rougher. But true love doesn't allow for assisting in a child's spiraling self destruction.
You have to be the adult. You have to be THE PARENT.
When it involves your parent; sometimes it gets iffy.
Personally; I'm keeping 1 & dumping the other.
Got that, Mumsie?
And yes, I got therapy for my "issues."
Just a few sessions. Because I was given a question to carry with me. If you are in pain; or someone is causing you pain; does it make sense to stay in pain?
And since that time; my life has been much better. Not perfect. No. But much better.
And when a painful situation arose; my ability to turn it around worked pretty good. For me.
And the made - me - hurt - person isn't likely to cross me again. I REALLY know how to stand up for myself now.
To be fair; 'tis always much easier to sweep someone else's back porch clean. But I can't believe some of the situations these people write in about. It's like they're into S&M. Beat me; abuse me; use me.
Good grief. Just go to the back alleys of the worst place of any big city & wave around a wad of cash. Then double dare someone; anyone to take it from you. And resist.
I mean if you really want to get the crap beat outa you....Do it right.
So for the lady complaining that her mother-in-law would ask her advice on arranging things & then ignore her? If it had been me? After the obvious 2nd time; I'd have flashed her my sweetest smile & assured her she no longer had to be polite. It wasn't going to hurt my feelings for her to do things her way. Just enjoy her new space.
And by the way; her reaction would let me know if she'd been game playing or not.
Bum son. 2 months to get a job & contribute to the household. Or OUT. Girlfriend? 1 month. Drugs? Uh, NO! If you've got money for them, you've got money for rent. Buh bye.
If they're over 25; get real folks. They're grown ups. Keep enabling them. What are they gonna do when you're 90?
In the meantime, I'll keep reading & shaking my head. I'll keep pursing my lips in amusement. AND I'll thank God for our kids & the fact we toughed them out.
Yeah, I practice what I gripe about.
They came out pretty good - so far.
Maybe that's why lots of my students come to me & so do my friends.
And maybe that's why you'll occasionally hear me grouse; I'm gonna change my name to Dear Abby.
And just for the record; for the 2 that ask & then argued &/or didn't listen? When they ask again; I declined to assist. When they expressed bewilderment; I gently reminded them of the aforementioned.
There's no reason for either of us to waste valuable time or effort on anything that will come to naught. So let's just move along,'K? It stung them I'm sure, but word got around & now I only get the serious contenders.
Thank you. There are plenty of them.
I'm flattered. And so it goes. My career is secure and so is my "hobby" ... apparently.
Abby or not; here they keep coming.
OnceAgain
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
The answer is always ssssoooo obvious. And they ask anyway.
What do I do? Alas, woe is me!
Get over it people! Really! Ignore the old bat back and kick "Bum" out on his ass.
But they ask anyway. I 'spect because they want to either hear what they already know; want validation for what they are about to do; or think maybe, just maybe, someone will tell them it's OK to continue to be doormats.
So sad.
Of course when it involves children it's rougher. But true love doesn't allow for assisting in a child's spiraling self destruction.
You have to be the adult. You have to be THE PARENT.
When it involves your parent; sometimes it gets iffy.
Personally; I'm keeping 1 & dumping the other.
Got that, Mumsie?
And yes, I got therapy for my "issues."
Just a few sessions. Because I was given a question to carry with me. If you are in pain; or someone is causing you pain; does it make sense to stay in pain?
And since that time; my life has been much better. Not perfect. No. But much better.
And when a painful situation arose; my ability to turn it around worked pretty good. For me.
And the made - me - hurt - person isn't likely to cross me again. I REALLY know how to stand up for myself now.
To be fair; 'tis always much easier to sweep someone else's back porch clean. But I can't believe some of the situations these people write in about. It's like they're into S&M. Beat me; abuse me; use me.
Good grief. Just go to the back alleys of the worst place of any big city & wave around a wad of cash. Then double dare someone; anyone to take it from you. And resist.
I mean if you really want to get the crap beat outa you....Do it right.
So for the lady complaining that her mother-in-law would ask her advice on arranging things & then ignore her? If it had been me? After the obvious 2nd time; I'd have flashed her my sweetest smile & assured her she no longer had to be polite. It wasn't going to hurt my feelings for her to do things her way. Just enjoy her new space.
And by the way; her reaction would let me know if she'd been game playing or not.
Bum son. 2 months to get a job & contribute to the household. Or OUT. Girlfriend? 1 month. Drugs? Uh, NO! If you've got money for them, you've got money for rent. Buh bye.
If they're over 25; get real folks. They're grown ups. Keep enabling them. What are they gonna do when you're 90?
In the meantime, I'll keep reading & shaking my head. I'll keep pursing my lips in amusement. AND I'll thank God for our kids & the fact we toughed them out.
Yeah, I practice what I gripe about.
They came out pretty good - so far.
Maybe that's why lots of my students come to me & so do my friends.
And maybe that's why you'll occasionally hear me grouse; I'm gonna change my name to Dear Abby.
And just for the record; for the 2 that ask & then argued &/or didn't listen? When they ask again; I declined to assist. When they expressed bewilderment; I gently reminded them of the aforementioned.
There's no reason for either of us to waste valuable time or effort on anything that will come to naught. So let's just move along,'K? It stung them I'm sure, but word got around & now I only get the serious contenders.
Thank you. There are plenty of them.
I'm flattered. And so it goes. My career is secure and so is my "hobby" ... apparently.
Abby or not; here they keep coming.
OnceAgain
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
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