Farewell little dog

One of my next door neighbor's dogs passed away. He is clearly broken up by it. I told him he could bring Daphne (the dauschund) over to play any time he liked. He was worried that she wouldn't react well, but she seemed fine to me-I told him I'd leash the pack up so they could introduce each other one at a time and not overwhelm her.

I don't know the neighbors that well, but their dogs are constantly with them and fairly well mannered, therefore I like them. MY kind of people.

Why?????

So, I'm sitting here and my house is still wrecked and my cousin is still coming and I have to ask myself, why? Well, my cousin is coming to pick up a bed, but the house is still a wreck. I got up early this morning, drank some coffee and cleaned some snake cages. Took some of the snakes out to play in the trees. Visited with my neighbor. Made a few phone calls.

I am sitting here quietly and trying to get in touch with how I really feel. Really. I don't want the relatives to see a woefully messy house-but it's not really for me-it's for Mom. I personally don't care. Really.

I LIVE here. That mess in the living room is correspondence and to-dos. It's a huge pile, and it daunts me. Would the world fall off its axis if I just opened the door, said hello, and LOOK at this pile of stuff I have to do! Maybe I really want someone to see my piles.

I do wish they were more organized-but I don't want them relegated to the snake room so I can keep a clean living room. I LIVE in my living room. The TV is there, the phone, the window overlooking my roses. WHY would I want to shut myself in the snake room so that my piles are hidden?

2916 Finley

Errands took me to a part of Midwest City that I lived in a LONG time ago. I felt the now familiar feeling of knowing I used to LIVE in this area but I couldn't recognize anything. So I set out to find my old apartment (where I lived after the Scotty). I got so caught up in the search that it wasn't until I pulled up in front that I realized, this was my first apartment. I came home from the hospital with my daughter to that place. I walked around the block when I was in labor with her.

The past washed over me like a tidal wave. I got one of those emotions you feel right in your gut. It wasn't gas, I promise, it was the swelling in your throat and the tightness in what I suppose is the pit of your stomach. I pulled over and just sat around a bit and let it happen.

On the highway headed home, the emotion threatened to overwhelm me when the radio played one of my daughter's favorite songs. I missed her and grieved for her. I didn't try to look away-I never look away from other people's pain, so why should I hide from my own?

I turned off and found a few more firsts on the way home-one of the first bars I ever snuck into loomed into sight. That brought on a warm feeling-right in the pit of my stomach and a smile. I know emotions and food and overeating are all centered in the pit of the stomach-I just wish I knew why.

I was tired and really wanted to go home-only I took wrong turn because I've only been back a month or so and things aren't easily on autopilot yet. So I wallowed in the angst of that.

Then, I heard in the back of my mind, Ceasar Milan's voice saying "the dog lets it go, it isn't happening now. Only the human hangs on". And then I saw myself bringing my infant daughter home again, and just got a warm feeling in the old stomach pit-because that was a happy memory.

I've learned a new survival trick, or at least I think I have. Look at each memory as a moment-live that moment, but don't replay the remainder of the story that happened after. If you do that, you'll never get to the present.

When the sad parts tried to come back, I said (in Ceasar Milan's voice)"it's not happening now...let it go;" and you know what? It did. It went. Cool.

Turning the tide

Sheesh-for someone trying to live the simple life I still bring in an awful lot of stuff. Lately snake cages, an exercise machine and food have been coming in. (No job means cooking for one's self again). Time for some outflow-

So I craigslisted the kayak. That was tough-I've never actually used it-but now that I am not in Dallas I can't find a group to start kayaking with. And realistically, I won't do it alone.

And...the cubicle. It's taking up valuable real estate in the garage, and now that I'm HERE, I can borrow Daddy's truck, and my cousin has a flatbed I could probably borrow. I looked at converting it into a camper-but that is a recipe for an expensive disaster.

Still trying to rehome the dog sulky-maybe I SHOULD get a big old dog and trot it around with my sulky.

Cousin is coming to pick up the mattress and the treadmill on Saturday-so I will have oodles of space and I can start putting up shelves, setting up the snake room.

It's all about letting go of what you don't use to make room for what you will use.

Where did this wall come from?

Emotionally, I'm at a wall. My house is, well, a mess. It didn't turn in to the Better Homes and Garden place I thought it would-although the Garden does look nice. I still don't know what I'm going to do to earn a living. Mom has been diagnosed with rhuematoid arthritis and that scares me.

So, what's a girl to do? Well, I'm turning the sunroom into a gym-Mom is addicted to walking and that isn't going to be a good thing any more. So I'm getting her a stationary bicycle so she doesn't have to depend on the trike and me going to the park every day. I'm thinking of putting in weights for me. We may or may not work out together-we haven't worked that part out.

And, I'm going to Florida next week to see Sue and Jay. No sense in sitting here crying mea culpa-I'm well enough to travel, I have a free ticket, and maybe things will shake loose in my head. Sometimes when the going gets tough you just have to make your way to a beach. The ocean really does help me clear my head.

On the lap band front I ate some pulverized chicken-heaven I tell you, sheer heaven. Pulverized chicken smashed with pears from my backyard-yes, I have weird taste, but I'm telling you, it was greatness.

Mom is cooking fish today and then we are going to see Uncle John. Oh yeah I remember now, this is what I came to Oklahoma to do=spend more time with family. And that part I really enjoy. It's a shame society doesn't put as much value on that as it does on the career thing.

And, by golly, I have a pretty pot of hibiscus in front of my house and some new fencing for the front flower bed. Loading the fencing into the truck laid me up a bit, but I'm going to try unloading it and planting the fence tonight. You know what, I AM making progress. I forget to reward progress, only results. I gotta work on that.

Looking Back

Yesterday I drove to Lewisville to pick up a snake rack. On the way back I drove through Denton. Denton is becoming another suburb of Dallas-there really isn't a band of country between the two towns now. Corinth took care of that.

I was glad to see that the houses on Normal street (where I lived for awhile, really) had been repaired, (hopefully up to code now) but not torn down and modernized. The house next to the house I lived in is now a tatoo parlor. Yeah! "My" house had been painted AND a sign put up with a business name of the "apartments". I don't think it was originally an apartment house-I think it was just a big house. But I loved that place, despite the lack of heat in the winter and the fact that we all heard everyone's orgasms. Ah yes, those were boho days. I was in my mid 30's at the time....

Now I'm mid forties and determined to be responsible. So, I've quit my "career" again and moved back to Oklahoma where the job market is always dismal. Yes, moving home may be the riskiest thing I've done in a long while and I really can't share that with family without insulting them. They love this place and so do I. But jeesh, talk about jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.

So it goes and goes and goes

Mom's hip is acting up-she can barely walk. Daddy wants me to go to the doctor with her and I think that's a good idea. She tends to downplay things and doesn't listen very well any more.

The spotties and Cody are at the kennel. Greta and I are driving to Texas tomorrow to pick up a snake rack. Greta actually likes riding in the car, and I will enjoy the company.

I took my stitches out and felt immediately better. Stitches in a fat belly just aren't pleasant. They itch with every wiggle and jiggle.

I'm studiously NOT thinking about what I am going to do to earn a living. Eventually I will have to do something, but I'd like to give fate an opportunity to jump in. It's been doing a good job so far.