Officially out of crisis mode now-all are moved and accounted for and safe. The rest is just window dressing.
Mom and Dad are antsy and today is "their day" to help me unpack. They have been going mad with the desire to help, so today, this one's for them. And for me. I'm very glad of the help-I particularly hate unpacking the kitchen and Mom seems to like it. She'd like it better if I had food in the house. Peanut butter and bagel bread does not constitute a larder. She brought me some key lime yogurt.
I will have to address the food issue. I'm not sure what the delivery situation is in OKC and in my family eating out is a treat not the way of life it has become for me. The only food I brought with me from Texas was three bags of poi and three dark chocolate bars (from California) and 2 cases of wine. I have a clean culinary slate.
To that I have added one jar of natural peanut butter, some almonds, some all fruit spread and bagel bread. Mom has supplied one bottle of water and one key lime yogurt. Apparently she is afraid I will not be able to make it across Carol's yard in the event of a hunger emergency.
Empty fridge's to her and her generation are a bad thing-to be avoided at all cost. To my generation of overweight consumers, an empty fridge means nothing to clean up and no temptation to over eat. Sue loves my empty fridge and I love Sue for loving it.
Ahhh, the missing part has begun. I just spent last week with Sue and the kids while I finished up in Dallas, and I swear that I woke up yesterday and watched Maggie and the Ferocious Beast. I didn't cry, but I really missed talking about it with the girls.
Code yellow-no crisis, but still not normal. I'm totally clueless at this point as to what normal is going to look like-but the beauty of being 46 is that I know it will pretty much look like what I decide it's going to look like.
Out of respect to my parents I will keep the front and backyards tidy and the living room/kitchen ready for visitors. I actually have visitors in Oklahoma.
That's as far as I've gotten in my "what it's going to look like" but this is only the first second morning I've had coffee in my home, and the first one I've gotten to write. I'm sure the rest will come.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
So much to say
I'm very much in one foot in front of the other mode-but one habit I'm gonna have to break is to think what I'm doing now isn't important and that what I NEED to do is where I really NEED to spend my time. That is a recipe for being unhappy. It's the whole live in the now concept-not a bad idea. Wish I'd thought of it.
The cubicle has arrived and I could spend a month driving it around town looking like a big tough modern truck hauling woman, but I am taking it to be wired tomorrow and then will load it up on Wednesday. I love the cubicle. It matches my truck (both are navy blue). I can load it myself and I can drive it myself-at least going forward. I'm going to give backing it up a go later on this afternoon when the cars clear off the road.
More boxes to pack-the van didn't hold all the necessities-but it's going to feel good to walk away from this STUFF. I've enjoyed sorting through it, but there is more sorting to do in OKC and I need to be in one place again.
Playing with Sue's kids has been the most healing thing that could have happened. Children are so young and new and full of wonder. They have misgivings too, but a torn up beach towel provides enough comfort to get through anything.
Tonight I am fixing dinner-Hannah's choice-pineapple and hot dogs, strawberries and whipped cream. Yum! I should probably take a bath-it's been a few days. And I need to see Uncle John today.
Life without a schedule or a load of appointments is really weird, and I seem to need the appointments and deadlines to get things done at all....but I also need rest-and I need to value those kinds of needs more than I do. It's OK to spend an afternoon talking to the girls....really. It's not immoral and the world won't end if you just goof off.
The cubicle has arrived and I could spend a month driving it around town looking like a big tough modern truck hauling woman, but I am taking it to be wired tomorrow and then will load it up on Wednesday. I love the cubicle. It matches my truck (both are navy blue). I can load it myself and I can drive it myself-at least going forward. I'm going to give backing it up a go later on this afternoon when the cars clear off the road.
More boxes to pack-the van didn't hold all the necessities-but it's going to feel good to walk away from this STUFF. I've enjoyed sorting through it, but there is more sorting to do in OKC and I need to be in one place again.
Playing with Sue's kids has been the most healing thing that could have happened. Children are so young and new and full of wonder. They have misgivings too, but a torn up beach towel provides enough comfort to get through anything.
Tonight I am fixing dinner-Hannah's choice-pineapple and hot dogs, strawberries and whipped cream. Yum! I should probably take a bath-it's been a few days. And I need to see Uncle John today.
Life without a schedule or a load of appointments is really weird, and I seem to need the appointments and deadlines to get things done at all....but I also need rest-and I need to value those kinds of needs more than I do. It's OK to spend an afternoon talking to the girls....really. It's not immoral and the world won't end if you just goof off.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Families
I knew to call my Mom tonight so she could tell me that Dolly (their dog) died. When we spoke earlier she was going to the vet. Mom talked and talked and talked and finally I asked and she said "I hoped you wouldn't ask, I don't want to upset you'...and I said "Oh, Dolly died."
Families speak in the most cryptic languages-most of it unspoken. If Dolly had been a human, she might have hung on till things settled down, but Dolly was a dog, and when it's time to go, they go.
I am under strict orders not to buy another dog on the way home. Dottie and Prissy are at my folks house, so they will have canine company. I have the cat and the snakes. Lucky me.
I took a nap on the floor (hardwood) and when I woke up the old cat was sound asleep...ON ME. No hardwoods for her-complete fat Okie ass cushion. Lots goin on, lots to sort out-the road is lookin good (after a bath and a nap).
I've been avoiding John because things are just too crazy and I don't want to worry him-but I also know he knows exactly what is going on. He's family too and communicates better the silent way than verbally.
I had a whole rif I wanted to write about whether it was better to pay 5.95, get 5 things and eat three of them, or order what you want and pay 8.00 at Arby's. But right now that doesn't seem to matter. Who cares?
The thing that Dolly-dog knows is that there is no good time for crisis or dying or any of those unpleasant things. We'd all be better off if we just did what we needed to when we needed to.
Families speak in the most cryptic languages-most of it unspoken. If Dolly had been a human, she might have hung on till things settled down, but Dolly was a dog, and when it's time to go, they go.
I am under strict orders not to buy another dog on the way home. Dottie and Prissy are at my folks house, so they will have canine company. I have the cat and the snakes. Lucky me.
I took a nap on the floor (hardwood) and when I woke up the old cat was sound asleep...ON ME. No hardwoods for her-complete fat Okie ass cushion. Lots goin on, lots to sort out-the road is lookin good (after a bath and a nap).
I've been avoiding John because things are just too crazy and I don't want to worry him-but I also know he knows exactly what is going on. He's family too and communicates better the silent way than verbally.
I had a whole rif I wanted to write about whether it was better to pay 5.95, get 5 things and eat three of them, or order what you want and pay 8.00 at Arby's. But right now that doesn't seem to matter. Who cares?
The thing that Dolly-dog knows is that there is no good time for crisis or dying or any of those unpleasant things. We'd all be better off if we just did what we needed to when we needed to.
Downsizing costs money
Mover's came and packed the van to capacity. I will pick up the cubicle this weekend and get the rest (as well as retrieve my truck). No car hauler for this kid.
There is something soooo embarrassing about having people see YOUR STUFF. LOOK-there's a dog turd hiding under the bed. Horrors. I gave a way a perfectly good (if ostentatious) bed but carefully and lovingly packed 12 rubbermaid containers with holes and names labled on them (for the babies).
Moving, much like any other disaster, reduces you to basics and forces you to decide what is important to YOU, not to anyone else.
I do have curbside karma though-the extra tanks were all picked up by two under represented populations-a fat black man and a fat, shirtless white man with terrible feet just like I have. I'm sitting here now, a prisoner in my house, while I watch them load their treasures-but I want to preserve their dignity....because it's my trash. And I am really no better than they are-a fat white woman with bad feet, who didn't believe the experts when they said tanks were not the way to go with snakes....live and learn.
I snapped at my mother today. Seems that the camping stuff bought with the trailer money arrived yesterday, along with the rat shipment which wasn't due till Friday. That created quit a stir, and THEN Overstock.com went nuts and delivered my patio furniture. That put her over the edge-unplanned for deliveries of NEW stuff.
But I learned a valuable lesson-I just thanked her for putting the rats in the freezer and told her not to worry about the rest. (wish I had been a little nicer). But dammit-it's NORMAL to want patio furniture for a new patio. I am not going to go to hell because I spent 300 bucks. Really I am not. And I am not going to explain that I am well under budget for this entire move-because in typical Deb fashion I budgeted high and then shopped around. I am not going to explain it because I don't want to get into the habit of explaining things.
The point is-I don't have to justify it. Mom is a wonderful, loving 73 year old lady who worries about me. But if we are all going to survive this natural disaster, I am going to have to remain intact as well-the Debra that lives in Dallas is going to have to move to Oklahoma-not the Debra that left Oklahoma. And the Dallas Deb wants 4 chairs and a table that matches on her patio. AND she wants her washer and dryer enough to spend days and dollars loading a truck and driving it to OKC rather than buy a new used one when she gets there.
And, she wants to sit and blog while trash pickers haul off her mistakes even though she's hungry and hasn't eaten in 12 hours. Ok, there is probably more room for personal growth.
There is something soooo embarrassing about having people see YOUR STUFF. LOOK-there's a dog turd hiding under the bed. Horrors. I gave a way a perfectly good (if ostentatious) bed but carefully and lovingly packed 12 rubbermaid containers with holes and names labled on them (for the babies).
Moving, much like any other disaster, reduces you to basics and forces you to decide what is important to YOU, not to anyone else.
I do have curbside karma though-the extra tanks were all picked up by two under represented populations-a fat black man and a fat, shirtless white man with terrible feet just like I have. I'm sitting here now, a prisoner in my house, while I watch them load their treasures-but I want to preserve their dignity....because it's my trash. And I am really no better than they are-a fat white woman with bad feet, who didn't believe the experts when they said tanks were not the way to go with snakes....live and learn.
I snapped at my mother today. Seems that the camping stuff bought with the trailer money arrived yesterday, along with the rat shipment which wasn't due till Friday. That created quit a stir, and THEN Overstock.com went nuts and delivered my patio furniture. That put her over the edge-unplanned for deliveries of NEW stuff.
But I learned a valuable lesson-I just thanked her for putting the rats in the freezer and told her not to worry about the rest. (wish I had been a little nicer). But dammit-it's NORMAL to want patio furniture for a new patio. I am not going to go to hell because I spent 300 bucks. Really I am not. And I am not going to explain that I am well under budget for this entire move-because in typical Deb fashion I budgeted high and then shopped around. I am not going to explain it because I don't want to get into the habit of explaining things.
The point is-I don't have to justify it. Mom is a wonderful, loving 73 year old lady who worries about me. But if we are all going to survive this natural disaster, I am going to have to remain intact as well-the Debra that lives in Dallas is going to have to move to Oklahoma-not the Debra that left Oklahoma. And the Dallas Deb wants 4 chairs and a table that matches on her patio. AND she wants her washer and dryer enough to spend days and dollars loading a truck and driving it to OKC rather than buy a new used one when she gets there.
And, she wants to sit and blog while trash pickers haul off her mistakes even though she's hungry and hasn't eaten in 12 hours. Ok, there is probably more room for personal growth.
Well shitfire and save the matches.
It's 5:30 am, I need to leave to get the truck soon, the big snake won't load and I 've been up all night bagging snakes and am unpacked. I stink. REALLY.
So, of course, I am blogging instead of packing. I need to settle my thoughts. I may end up paying two burly fire fighters to box my kitchen stuff-they don't care what they do as long as they get paid (I hope). Relax. I can't run willy nilly around throwing things in boxes panicking.
Chill.......
This isn't my vision of well packed, neatly labeled boxes all stacked and waiting to be moved. But it's more like real life I suppose. Shit scattered everywhere cause there is just never enough time to do what I want to and need to do. And ME, sitting on my ass in the middle of the shitstorm, writing about it.
My life isn't ever going to be neatly labeled boxes is it? I think those organizational people on the do it yourself shows are liars, just the way the models in the magazines are liars. REAL LIFE is messy, smelly, and definitely more curvacious. Oh, maybe not REAL LIFE...maybe MY LIFE. Maybe there isn't one real, proper way to do things.
Well, crap, I wish I could have figured that one out a long time ago-would have saved a fortune on psycho drugs. But maybe we don't figure that out until we bash into the wall of the perfect life vs. our own about 10 million times.
Yes-I am one with my clutter, I am at ease with my stink. This is my life people of the world, no Better Homes and Gardens layout OR clutterbusters ready to come in an cluck cluck and then fix me in 30 minutes. How did the Boss put it-"aint no wine from this blood baby....."
Oh crap now I have visions of a nice blue collar man singing-what a time to get hormonal.
So, of course, I am blogging instead of packing. I need to settle my thoughts. I may end up paying two burly fire fighters to box my kitchen stuff-they don't care what they do as long as they get paid (I hope). Relax. I can't run willy nilly around throwing things in boxes panicking.
Chill.......
This isn't my vision of well packed, neatly labeled boxes all stacked and waiting to be moved. But it's more like real life I suppose. Shit scattered everywhere cause there is just never enough time to do what I want to and need to do. And ME, sitting on my ass in the middle of the shitstorm, writing about it.
My life isn't ever going to be neatly labeled boxes is it? I think those organizational people on the do it yourself shows are liars, just the way the models in the magazines are liars. REAL LIFE is messy, smelly, and definitely more curvacious. Oh, maybe not REAL LIFE...maybe MY LIFE. Maybe there isn't one real, proper way to do things.
Well, crap, I wish I could have figured that one out a long time ago-would have saved a fortune on psycho drugs. But maybe we don't figure that out until we bash into the wall of the perfect life vs. our own about 10 million times.
Yes-I am one with my clutter, I am at ease with my stink. This is my life people of the world, no Better Homes and Gardens layout OR clutterbusters ready to come in an cluck cluck and then fix me in 30 minutes. How did the Boss put it-"aint no wine from this blood baby....."
Oh crap now I have visions of a nice blue collar man singing-what a time to get hormonal.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Out of the Blue and Into the Black
Time to unplug and pack up the electronics-I'll have to think random thoughts and go without e-mail for a couple of days. It feels like another step out of the old comfort zone-well, maybe because it is. Where DOES digital Deb go when she's not here?
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