Monday, December 30, 2019

After reading Kenyon's Taking Down The Tree

I was thinking as I read this Kenyon poem about my childhood and what I can remember about Christmas trees, ornaments, fanfare. I discovered this:
I have no memory of where my mother kept Christmas ornaments. As a matter of fact, I can't recall one single ornament from our Christmas trees through my childhood years. I can recall tinsel and large Christmas lights. Other than that, there is absolutely no memory of my mother or father getting down the ornaments or getting them out of a closet or out of boxes or out from under beds. There is no memory of going to get a Christmas tree. I do not know if we went to grocery store parking lots or makeshift Christmas tree lots or if we had artificial trees. No memory whatsoever. I say that with some level of alarm. I have a decent memory (unfortunately, I tend to remember the adverse events of my life more than the positive ones). So, why no memory of ornaments, where they were kept, what they looked like, my mother decorating the tree, buying the tree. It's like my mind is a dry erase board and all of the red and green ink has been wiped off and the cleaner applied to be sure not one little speck of red or green remain. Hmmmm. If anyone reads this, please share your memories of Christmas or of ornaments you remember or what you recall about your trees throughout your childhood years and who decorated them. I would love to read your stories.

I have decided that if I get no responses to this on FB, I will leave FB again. Hardly anyone comments on my page. I am not finding what I need there. I am not finding it anywhere.  I need friendship. 

Friday, December 27, 2019

Cacti

🎼We three kings of cacti ignored/thirsted and longed as our human ignored/our need for water, nutrients and shelter/hoping for wonders from afar.🎼 Poor, dead cacti. I wouldn't have thought about them and haven't thought about them, but I was sitting on my porch hoping to see Animal Control show up (which they didn't). I don't want any dogs or cats in the shelter, but the people across the street have two dogs running wild, and I have an elderly dog going out back to potty. I don't want her attacked. The two across the street are pit bull mixes. They seem to be young, but I don't know anything about them. They were in my backyard late yesterday afternoon and again today. They were in the street, and I was fearful they would get hit by a car. So, as I was watching and waiting, I was humming to my dead cacti.



Fail

So, basically, my take on how things worked out just represents what a failure on many levels I am and have been all of my life. I am crying. I need to cry. I am so tired of feeling like this. 

I also don't like it when people try to run my life and tell me what to do. And, I don't like it when the person I live with can't figure out that towels need to be washed.

Wondering


So, I made appetizers to eat for lunch Christmas Eve day as I thought that would hold us all over until I cooked a big meal that evening (beef stroganoff), which I did not end up cooking.  Lauren said they were coming that morning, and Wes texted that he was on his way around 10 or so, so appetizers sounded like a great planning strategy on my part only it wasn't. Lauren, Jon, and the babies left later than they had planned to leave and got McDonald's on the way, so they weren't hungry. Wes was hungry when he got here but filled up on the chips and salsa (I had not cooked the stuffed mushrooms, wings, nor cranberry brie tarts yet), so I had these foods arranged on the table: chips and salsa, herbed oyster crackers, buffalo and plain chicken wings, cranberry brie tarts, and stuffed mushrooms. I had queso with rotel in the crock pot, and spiced nuts and magic cookie bars in the dining room. I also had homemade chocolate chip cookie dough in the fridge for Santa.

Lauren didn't eat. She said she was sick and was afraid she was getting the flu. Jon didn't eat because he ate at McD's and the kids didn't eat because they ate at McD's. Wes ate a wing or two and a few of the mushrooms. Robin ate several of the brie tarts and lots of magic cookie bars. There was still a table full of food out at 3, so I scrapped the idea of cooking stroganoff thinking we could just eat what was already cooked. I had already prepped the asparagus and had peeled, seeded, and cubed the butternut squash to be cooked that night, but none of that got cooked.

I still needed to prepare the overnight blueberry French toast casserole, so I did that and made Santa some cookies, but I only baked a dozen and kept the rest of the dough in the fridge.

I guess what I'm trying to say is I didn't plan well.  I spent 339 dollars and worked hard but really didn't have to and didn't need to.  I just can't seem to get these holiday plan things figured out.  Is there a lesson in this for me?  I guess the lesson is eat out on Christmas Eve, forget about trying to have some kind of traditional meal, and just continue to do a Christmas day brunch.  I feel exhausted, but I guess what I feel the most is that all of those things I attempted to do really didn't matter.

The kids don't expect it nor do they seem to care particularly about a tradition. I put the pressure on myself.

Christmas brunch didn't go much better. It took a long time to make everything, and Linda and crew were really late this year, so we didn't start eating until two (plan was for 1:00). Wes and Jon hardly said anything during brunch, and then Jon disappeared to the porch and didn't interact at all with Linda, Elizabeth, and Bradley. I overcooked the French toast casserole (slightly--it was still good) and hardly any of the potatoes got eaten though everyone said they were good--just "rich."  Sigh.

I guess I am just feeling like a failure. What other reason would all of it be bothering me so much?

Zollie and Keen had a big time, and they made me smile often.  Christmas is about the children.



Wednesday, December 18, 2019

Turned into

I have turned into my mother, only worse. At my age, she was not an obese drunk. She drank and got drunk, but she was not morbidly obese.  She was a recluse of sorts. She let some people come in to visit her.  I don't have anyone to let in.

I was thinking today that if I left Madisonville and moved away, no one would miss me.  No one comes to see me.  How can someone miss someone they never visit nor have lunch with nor go to the movies with nor does one single thing with (ending sentences on prepositions--who gives a shit).

Becca texted me and is coming over Friday night.  She will be the first person other than family and my neighbor to come and see me since last December.  I can't imagine what it would be like to have friends. To have a dear friend.  Someone you spend time with.  Someone who comes to see you. Someone who loves you through the years.  I haven't been the most receptive person, but it's not like anyone tried that hard.  I feel like I just don't have much value in terms of anyone thinking I'd be a great friend for life.  I don't know why.  I suppose I am either too unlikeable long term, too distant, too uninteresting, too ---I don't know why people don't like me enough to make a long-term investment in me.  I only know that solitude is all I have, and I don't even have that.  Constantly, constantly, constantly, Robin is standing over me, behind me, next to me, across from me asking the same questions over and over and over.  I don't want to be alone.

I don't want to die and I don't want Robin to die. I want to learn how to live like this until I die and not expect anything more.  I can't keep thinking about Robin and wishing he had more.  That's up to him. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.  I don't know what I did in the before this life to have ended up like I am.  What did I do?  I must have been a royal shitass.

Monday, December 16, 2019

Making it

I have made it to 9:00. I have been ready to fall asleep since 6:30.

Wednesday, December 04, 2019

liddle donnie

iddle donnie did run
when others made fun
of his juvenile tirades.

so he got on his plane
and flew into the rain
of laughter filling the heavens.

he took to his phone, pain
deep in his groin, as the Bevins
of elections past surrounded.

in his typical tantrum style,
he wore out his smile
and added more orange

to his fading toupee. His words
fell like hail on the shell of his jail
the sad wings of the presidential

Boeing. His ignorant crowd
in their ignorance cloud,
cried, "False truths" though their

voices, like boomerangs, return
to his ignorant crowd,

Tuesday, November 26, 2019

Wondering

I seem to be having a hard time thinking or remembering some things. Maybe I am just so depressed and anxious to think clearly many days.  Here is an example:

I planned to cook chili to have when the kids got in Wednesday night for Thanksgiving. When I was shopping, I bought V8. I use that in vegetable beef soup, but not in chili. I did not get a green pepper, which I think I have always put in chili but now can't remember.  The day I made the chili, I was still asking myself if I put V8 in it. I also put a can of butterbeans on the counter to open with the red kidney beans and chili beans.  I put the can opener to the can and opened it a bit only to think--no, you don't put butterbeans in chili.  There are more things, but I am crying and don't feel like typing. I am not crying because I think I have dementia or early onset Alzheimer's or anything like that.  I don't want to talk about why I am crying.

Saturday, November 23, 2019

Try

Did you know I love birds? The cacophany of morning sounds (this falling on the ears of a person who does not love mornings?), stirs in me a deepseated hunger, my brother. I can't muster anger for being awakened by their song which lifts and lilts and meanders on the breeze or hangs still in the frosty air. I want only to know what it is to perch on the forgiving branches of winter trees, no concern for safety, no worry about tomorrow, the berries and tossed seeds filling me with intrigue and wonder.

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

Goals for today

Clean off the dining room table
Decorate the dining room table with Thanksgiving theme
Sweep the floors
Clean the kitchen
Start cleaning the mess in Wes's room and start on the closet
Brush teeth
Wash face
Comb hair
Read
Play Solitaire
Go outside
Plant a few bulbs this afternoon
Relax
Google "meditation" and make effort to meditate
Make effort to be up and around more
Make effort to drink less tonight
Eat better today

***At the end of the day (or tomorrow), I will highlight the goals I accomplished.

Breakfast: 
Boiled egg
Almonds
Glass of milk
2 slices pineapple
1/4 cup cottage cheese
coffee with creamer



Thursday, November 14, 2019

Response to a FB question about a picture

This is Moab, Utah.
Shot in RAW in full manual with a Nikon D750 - 14-24 2.8 lens @ 14m f/2.8 - 10,000 ISO (I usually don’t go that high) WB @ 3,400, and 25 sec exp. Noise (a result of the high ISO) cleanup and contrast done in Bridge + Photoshop

Hope this helps. The best suggestion I can make is to just get out there and experiment - there’s no “right or wrong” - it’s all great fun!! ....and if you don’t get great shots at first, being out in the dark under the stars in the quiet is still an awesome experience!

Monday, November 11, 2019

The Tree Of Life crit

I see it as a very personal struggle with the meaning of life. I don't get religion from it nor the need to be secular or nonsecular. I view the film as an exploration of a sentient being into his or her own meaning of life, or asking the question, "Is there meaning?" I love the lengthy scene where something celestial is forming (like ideas formulating in the mind). The Funeral Canticle is such a perfect choice here. It begins with a human examining the tiny feet of his child and moves from scene to scene showcasing the unfolding of life through the billions of years. The Funeral Canticle is a rather new piece of music which sounds ancient. The first time I heard it, I was on a long drive home after being away for many days. I felt transported to another realm, and it was not an altogether comfortable feeling, but at the same time, it felt spiritual--not religious--spiritual. The soundtrack is haunting. The voice-overs add to the complexity of the characters and create the illusion of knowing them a tiny bit better. The cinematography is beautifully and fully realized. That's my two cents, for what it is worth.

Snow predicted

We are supposed to get 1-3 inches of snow this afternoon into the evening hours. I love snow (when I don't have to drive in it), so I am okay with that. 

I realize that I am going to have to start typing my goals in here every day. It seems I was making some progress with my mood when I was trying to attain some goals.  So, here goes:

Brush my teeth
Wash my face
Fix my hair
Get dressed
Water the plants
Cook lunch
Sweep the floors
Mail a package to Dixie
Wash dishes
Edit some photos
Read some of The Goldfinch (the book I am currently reading)
Do some cleaning in Wes's room

I am sure anyone who is "well" would look at this list and feel one of two things: sadness that the writer of these words has to tell herself to wash her face, brush her teeth, etc--you, know basic hygiene things. Or, they may feel apathetic and wonder why anyone would take the time to make such a stupid list which does not include anything particularly motivating.  That reader would be someone with little empathy and no understanding of the daily fight to be better.  But, I am not writing these words for a reader, other than this reader, me.

So, here's a pic I took at my mother's two years ago. I am going to try to just add one pic per day. It's hard to keep up with my journal part of this blog with all of the pics I have been posting.


Sunday, November 10, 2019

Pics




Mind Check



"If I see her, I wonder if she is going to say, "What happened to you. You're so fat!" And, so, I think of my response and say, "I can see you are still the same crass, rude bitch you always were." These were my thoughts about going to Walgreen's today.

This is how my mind works. I sent an order to Walgreen's for a picture of mine that I am going to send to Dixie.  I started thinking that K may be at work there, and I haven't seen K in a long time. I don't want to see her because I am fat. I don't want to see anyone. 

K was there. For some reason, she felt the need to come share a pic of her grandson with the woman who was checking me out. Was it because she saw me, or because she would have done that anyway.  I wasn't expecting her to know how I was because I am so very large.  I look nothing like I once did.  But, she knew me.  She spoke to me as she busily looked through her phone to show her co-worker a picture of her grandson, Little Mr Hopkins County, from today's Veteran Parade.

I reached across the counter and said, "Let me hug your neck." I  do not know why I did that.  The girl checking out my order explained how the receipt reflected that someone in my household has a birthday in November, so using my Walgreen's card this month will give me extra points. K said, "She has a birthday," without missing a note as the girl was talking.  I said, "You remember? And, I know your birthday is in September."

After that, there was small talk. She said she just turned 63. I said I just turned 61 and explained to the girl checking me out that I was the baby of the group, and the others always came to pick me up to do things. I said, "They felt sorry for me." K said, "That's not true. We just came to get you."

I wonder how much I have skewed things in my life to keep up this awful agenda of hurting myself and believing people don't care. 

K was ...was...just normal.  Just like she saw me yesterday or two weeks ago though I haven't seen her in over 20 years.

I need to contemplate this occurrence and what the Universe is trying to tell me.

I shall post of the text message I got a few nights ago next.  I am wiped out from this unexpected kindness.

Friday, November 08, 2019

Thursday, November 07, 2019

Wednesday, October 30, 2019

I need to

go back to setting goals. At least I was striving for something.  I am discovering it it not healthy
to have no plans and to go nowhere.  I don't want to go back to work, but I need to be engaged on a meaningful level. Housework is not meaningful. It is important and must be done, but I don't like doing it.  However, as it needs to be done, I shall set goals for that every day.  And, I hope I start pursuing a meaningful hobby.

Today, I need to:

Sweep the kitchen floor
Water my plants
Clean the bathrooms
Cook lunch
Start cleaning out Wes's closet

Wes's closet is a nightmare. Not his things--just all of the things I have been taking out of other rooms and throwing in his closet, but I need it cleaned by Thanksgiving so I can get the Christmas tree out of the bottom.

It is pouring down rain, so I will also make time to read today and play solitaire.  I need to mop the kitchen floor but it's pointless on a day like today.

I need to lose weight. Still. I need to cut down on my drinking. Still. I need to like myself more. Still.

Update: 7:40 PM. I did sweep the floor, water the plants,  and cook lunch. It was not a good day. I have worn myself out thinking of what I never talk about to anyone because I have no one to talk to.

Frog