My Intro

Hello Story Dam Peoples!

I'm Renee.

I'm looking forward to meeting everyone over the next couple of months.  I'm doing the insanity called NaNoWriMo, so I may be a sporadic poster in November.

So far? It's good days and hard days.  It's really not as easy as I hoped to write crap!

I used to write in high school, but then got involved with a job and life.  I returned to writing, after 40 years, through The Red Dress Club, now known as Write on Edge.  I have enjoyed it thoroughly, and am looking forward to get into writing with Story Dam.  Brandi and Brandon have really put a great thing together here.

Besides writing, I enjoy bowling and crocheting, and all other fiber arts.  If there's a hook or needle and some kind of string, yarn, or thread, I love it.  I've even spun some of my own yarn with a drop spindle.

Oh yes, and my BIG enjoyment right now is my grandkids.  Because they are just awesome.

I keep two blogs, one (this one) for everyday stuff, I call  Random Rants
The blog I use for creative crap, er writing is Elsetime & Otherwhen

I also spend a lot of time on Twitter  @2old2tap

Thanks again to Brandi and Brandon for this opportunity!

This Thing is Huge!

I was at Walgreens today. Had to pick up cat food and dog treats. It's easier to stop there than run 120 miles inside the super store to the pet aisle.

While I was there, I checked out the kid stuff. I don't have a ton of toys here for the grandkids. I wanted something new for the next time they're over.

That's when I found this:

OK, so it's just a cardboard playhouse. But I thought it was cute.

The grandson will be able to color it however he wants.

The granddaughter will just want to be where her brother is.

Of course, they'll have to fight the cats for it. They're sure I got it for them.

By the way.  This thing is HUGE!!

Poop Diary

Today I am writing about poop.  Yes, poop.  Turds and stuff.
It's not my fault. 
An employee and I were talking about our pets.  I was pleased that my less than intelligent dog seemed to be learning the rule of not pooping in the house.  It's been a struggle, requiring the use of treats as a reward for doing the deed outside.

Anyway, as this conversation progressed, we got into the category of cat poop.  I remarked that Sir, my extra-large tomcat, shits er, poops dog turds.  She understood having had a large cat of her own once.

And Herself, Cat, Mistress of All, poops little dry pebbles of poo easily swept up if she chooses other than the litter box.  Not that she would.  Often.  This elicited an "aw" of sympathy for the trouble it must be to pop those dry pellets out.

Then, there is Wee, who in perfect accord with cat mythology, leaves in her litter, perfectly formed little tootsie rolls.  Which the dog never, ahem, attempts to eat. (Did I mention my dog is less than intelligent?) 

We then look at each other a moment.

We are talking about pet poop.

As though this is an important aspect of our lives.

That we can tell which pet is which by poop.


We need affirmation that we are not alone. 

Please.

Advice From a Crappy Mother

I linked to Mama Kat's  this week. I chose prompt #5.) Advice to new mothers




I can hardly be called an expert.  I have only one child, because I'm not a natural mommy type.  Children always made me uncomfortable.  I lack patience, a necessity when dealing with young people. 

So, who am I to advise a new mother?  I'm an observer, a watcher. 

My first bit of advice?  Relax, New Mommy!  You're doing fine.  All the advice your friends give, all the stuff you read on the internet?  It's all someone else's opinion, it may have been good for them.  But, if it's not comfortable for you, it's not going to give you confidence.

During my scary passage into motherhood, most of the advice I received was from my own mother.  Most of that advice was good.  But, I found the best lessons I learned came from my own experience.  My own experience and listening to my inner mother.  Because i had that, though I didn't recognize it until much later.  I had that "instinct" to take care of, to love my child.

Did I do a stellar job?  No.  I did not.  That lack of patience was a problem.  My own selfishness, my need to not lose myself into mommydom, was a problem.  Being a single mother was harder than I thought it was going to be.  Then marrying a man who, even though he loved my daughter and myself, had control issues that made ours lives less than pleasant at times, was a problem.

Looking back, my biggest mistakes make up the advice I would give.

Say "I love you" more often.
Play those endless children's games that make you crazy until the child is finally bored.
Hug your child every minute you have.
Do not put anyone else in your heart before your child.
Take more pictures.
Listen to everything they say, it's not all baby talk.
Listen to your inner mommy, it's smarter than you think.
Say "I love you" more often.
No matter how tired you are, pay attention to them, let them know you're there.

And if you make mistakes, don't panic.  My daughter turned out fine, in spite of her mother.  She even lets me hang around with the grandkids.

If I Was a Hoarder...

I wrote for prompt #2 If I was a hoarder...








If I was hoarder, what would I hoard?

That's hard, because I'm not a hoarder.

Oh, I have several dozen bandannas. In different patterns and colors. But they fit into two small dresser drawers.  And they have a function. I wear them, one at a time if course, at work.

I have a rather hefty yarn stash.  For projects I'm going to do someday.  Those people that gave it to me were just going to throw it away!  That?  Would be wasteful.

I stopped saving glass jars and margarine tubs a long time ago. I didn't have room for my teapot collection, so they just had to go.

And doesn't everyone have a dozen, or so, Christmas trees?  They all need lights and ornaments. And matching tree skirts.  And the three dozen nutcrackers were inherited from my mother. And the acrylic Christmas decorations from Avon are so pretty. And the Christmas carol singing mice started with my dad.

And the husband is putting a floor in the huge attic for storage.  So we can have the guest bedroom again.


So, since I'm not a hoarder, I just can't think of anything I'd hoard.

Come Write With Me

I started this blog ten months ago. September 2010.   I'm an intermittent blogger. Sometimes I have a story to tell. Most times not. My life is not full of excitement.

When I first met bloggers on Twitter, I tried to read my little group daily. I did a good job.  I convinced myself I could do this, too. After all, I'd kept a journal for years.

So, I would sporadically throw a post out, I'd read posts from my first little group. My "network" began to grow a bit.

It got harder to keep up my reading. It got harder to find interesting things to write about.  But?  I like to write. When the mood (muse?) is with me.

So, silly me, I started a second blog in November.  A place to write poems. Create stories. I kept it hidden. Until February.  I took a deep breath, and tweeted the link to my other site, Elsetime & Otherwhen.  And in February, I wrote my first post for a prompt from The Red Dress Club, a blog site for people who want to write and get feedback from other writers.

I've written flash fiction, fantasy, a poem, many memories, and even a short horror story. Some of my stuff is badly done, but I think I've improved a bit.  I don't do all of the prompts, sometimes it's time issues. Sometimes I'm just blank. But I appreciate that it is there.

So, if I haven't posted here for a while, click the link on the right, the one with the glowy kitty eyes.  Chances are I've written something over there. It may or may not be of interest.

It may inspire some to join me in this adventure in writing. Anyone can join.  If you write somewhere else, let me know.  I'll find a day to fit you into my reading list.

The more the merrier.

Outdoor Projects by Amateurs

The Husband and I have been busy in the yard this week.  Some long overdue clean-up and a couple projects that wanted done.   Well, needed done for one of them.

I've been looking at this one for two years.  Ewww!

 But it is now under control and looking better.

It's a start.

And my pet project finally got done.

This hole under the arbor was a hill of fill dirt, rocks and mud.

Already looked better as a hole!

 And then.  Ta Da!   It isn't very professional.  But I did it myself.  I am rather pleased with myself.  So don't burst my bubble.

Happy Sigh.

 

My Daughter is Da Bomb!

I posted about memory for a writing prompt.
But I couldn't remember all the words for one of the songs I listed. Within minutes my daughter, the smartest kid in the known universe, found and sent me the lyrics. And here they are:

"Song-Fong-Lo was painted on a saucer
Wing-Tee-Wee was on a fan
Song-Fong-Lo he came across her
On the dressing stand. 

They both had travelled many miles on the sea
Each gave the other smiles of sweet sympathy

Song-Fong fell in love with Wee ,
Singing tenderly
Wee, please come with me
And let's  go back to dreamy lotus land

There 'mid flower fair
I swear to love you, love you
'Neath the magic moon above you

Wee, I love but thee
Just wait and see 
That wondrous dream I've planned 

I'll leave my saucer
You leave your fan
And let's go back to dreamy lotus land

Wing-Tee-Wee as soon as he had spoken
Came from off her silken fan
In her hurry she was broken
No more can she stand. 

Poor little Song-Fong with the tears in his eye
Stands all alone and wishes he too could die

As he dreams the dreams gone by
Each night he must sigh,
Wee, please come with me
And let's  go back to dreamy lotus land

There 'mid flower fair
I swear to love you, love you
'Neath the magic moon above you

Wee, I love but thee
Just wait and see 
That wondrous dream I've planned 

I'll leave my saucer
You leave your fan
And let's go back to dreamy lotus land"

Missing in Action

It's been forever since I've posted here.  I am so bad.

However, I have been busy.
No, really.  Busy.  BUSY!

Anyone who follows my twitter feed knows I've been whining, stressing and just Ranting about the big changes we've made at the restaurant the daughter and I own.

We had a menu update, translate price increase.  Which always causes unhappiness. But is necessary to keep up with the rising cost of product.
We finally began accepting credit cards.  Yes, we are slow on the technological thingies.

And? 
In a county and state that has no mandated smoking ordinance, we opted to become a smoke-free restaurant.  This has not been popular with everyone.  We have a lot of loyal (until today) smoking customers.  We still have a lot of loyal smoking customers.  The majority of them understand our decision and like the food and service well enough to still want to come and see us.
 
And we appreciate every one of them.

There are haters of course.  We are trying hard not to take it personally.  Being a smoker myself, (yes I'm still working on that) I understand that side of the controversy.  This was a decision that we made purely as a business entity. 

So.
Our target date to implement the changes was today.
We closed early Sunday to start painting and cleaning.
We were closed Monday to finish painting and cleaning.  Also to go over any new menu questions and to train credit card processing with the employees.
Of course we had planned on having menus and a credit card processing unit  to work with.

Menus showed up Sunday morning.
Credit card unit was delivered 3:30 Monday afternoon.
Painting took longer than we thought it would.

Train Wreck.  Wait.  That was me. After an 18 hour day Monday, and 3 hours of sleep last night. I was at work at just after 4am today.

We opened today at the specified time.
Technologically updated: credit card capable.
Menus on the tables.
And smoke-free.


You can like us on Facebook  Tennis' Ramble Inn
And follow us on Twitter @TennisRambleInn



sigh

Time for a Change

I've been neglecting this space. 

Not out of laziness, but out of brain-deadness.  I can't think of anything interesting to go on about.
There's the grandkids, but even I can only stand so much of that.
There's the ongoing house projects, but nothing big happening at the moment.

The daffodils are blooming.  The trees are budding.  And they're calling for a chance of snow tonight.  Spring in Indiana.  Yay.

The price of gasoline is insane. 
The price of food is becoming insane.  Of course, that's not because we are using our food supply (corn) to make a fuel no one is using.  Grrr.

I'm attempting to at least cut down on my smoking, (yes, I'm one of those) by trying the electric cigarettes.  No tar or second hand smoke.  Just a water vapor laced with nicotine.  I'm sure there is some health risk in these somewhere, but it can't be any worse than real cigarettes.  And I just don't have the will power  to quit cold turkey.  That, and I'd rather not be jailed or institutionalized for displaying homicidal tendencies due to a withdrawal meltdown. 

Part of the reason to give up smoking is deciding to make the restaurant smoke free. We are shooting for the end of May.  Our customer base has shifted now from majority smokers to majority non-smokers.  We will probably lose some of our smoking customers, but the hope is the non-smokers that have been avoiding us will fill those spaces.  Pray for us.

Maybe my nicotine fits will bring good blog fodder as I attempt to do this.

I'm Easily Amused

Things that tickled me this past week:

This piece posted on the Red Dress Club by @MamaTrack, here Too funny!

The grandson playing with the extra plastic drain lines that didn't get used for the basement project. He had a riot with his "tunnels".
Hardware store toys are much cheaper than toy store toys.

And of course it's the best revenge when the grandkid is an angel until his mother comes to get him. Then he becomes an accomplished button pusher.
I remember those times.

Watching the granddaughter twist Grampa right around her tiny finger. She must be held by him almost the entire visit.

Making checks on the yard as it gets a bit warmer. I love seeing the buds peeking out.

Finally seeing roots start on the pussy willow cuttings a customer brought me. Probably going to plant them this week.

Watching the tomato seedlings get stronger. Need to get bigger peat pots now.

Visiting with my twitter friends.

What tickled you lately?

De-skeined

I have spent the last 20 minutes disentangling a ball of yarn from the dining room furniture.  This is a new chore I must do now, several times a week.
The youngest of my cats, the 2 year old, is an artist.  She decorates with yarn.
I keep hiding my yarn, she keeps finding it.
She brings it down the stairs and around the corner.

This time it was a green baby yarn.  Looped around one chair, under the footstool, back to the chair, under the second chair.  Then in a genius effort, under the computer desk and back to chair number one.
How she manages to loop the yarn around itself is a mystery.

I have tried to wind the yarn up the way it came off.  Not.  Happening.
I end up lifting the furniture to free the loops.  Sometimes I have to turn the furniture over to loosen those loops enough to slide them off the legs.

Sometimes I have to convince her I don't need her help.

She is sure I do.

I haven't knitted or crocheted in some time.  I'm feeling the urge.

Anyone have a pattern for kitty pawcuffs.  Even a plastic canvas jail might be handy.

Did I mention she has hidden some of my knitting needles too.

Just Another Day

I'm loving my Friday ritual.  Go to work at 4am, well maybe not that part.  But taking the grandkids home with me at noon is awesome. 

I get to watch Dora and Diego.  The grandson is all about Max and Ruby right now, oh and BubbleGuppies.  My personal favorite is UmiZoomies.  I almost tuned in the other day.  By myself.  But I got over it.  I was a bit concerned for a moment.

In non-annoying-gramma news:  the honest to goodness bathtub is in the foreseeable future.  I will probably spend an entire week in the tub when it gets done.

Hubby dear is working on the drain lines this week.  And a miracle!  All is going well.  (throwing salt over shoulder)

Must get back to my mundane life. 

Dog needs to go out.

I Am Not a Doting Grandmother

Yesterday I got to babysit for the grandkids again

Yes.  I'm that annoying Gramma with the perfect grandchildren.

The granddaughter is 3 months now.  She does 3 month old stuff.  Eating, spitting up after eating.  Pooping, smiling after pooping.  Crying cause the diaper is dirty.  Smiling again in a dry diaper.

She is also trying to roll over.  She is a Genius.

The grandson is all kinds of 2 year old BOY.
Grandpa has a bunch of plastic tubes, connectors and pieces to replace the old drain lines in the basement.  They are also the best toys in the entire universe. 

The boy spent the entire day dragging them around.  Trying to put them together.  Propping the long line up and rolling a ball, pen, kaleidoscope, battery and back scratcher from top to bottom.  Over and over. And over.

His vocabulary is increasing daily.  I can understand most of what he says now.  He says Gampaw, but hasn't figured gramma out yet.  My name this week was mostly "cracker?", but at least I knew what he wanted.

His mother has a potty chair for him.  The kind with the duck.  When the duck gets wet, it quacks.  He doesn't ask to go yet, but if she puts him on it, he goes.

She is in for a challenge with this kid.  Last potty use, she rinsed and emptied the little bucket.  After she replaced it, this boy, ran his finger across the bottom.  Stuck it in his mouth.  And said ahhh.

Daughter speaks, probably loudly," NO!!!  That is disgusting!"

Boy looks at his mother.  Grins.

And does it again.

I love this boy!

The First Signs

It is a chilly, gray, soggy, gloomy, yuck of a day here.  So, I decided to squish around the soggy yard.  At first glance, I was wondering why.

.
Then I looked a little closer:

Those?  Are tulips.  Wheeeee!

So I looked some more.

Those?  Are the first buds on the pear tree. 

I am doing a tappity dance.

Spring is springing!

As I kept walking around I found daffodils starting to peek through.  Irises too.  And the lilacs are heavy budded.  They should bloom soon. 

It'll be time to pull the last of the fall leaves off the gardens and see the new growth.  Time to till the veggie garden, which already has winter onions ready for grabbing. 

We already have new flowers ordered.  They should start shipping in a couple of weeks.

I need to start my tomato seeds soon so they'll be ready to put out after Mother's Day.

I love the gardens.  Digging, planting, planning.

And?

It allows me to play in dirt.

It's Been a Week?

It seems to have been such a busy week.

Got to babysit the grandkids twice.  The grandson is learning new words and making sentences in leaps and bounds.  It's fun to hear him figure out a word and then use it.  Continuously. Today he wore himself out and crawled into the recliner next to me.  We had a nice nap.
The granddaughter, at not quite 3 months is smiling and laughing herself into hiccups already!  She watches the world around her closely. 

I've gotten myself hooked on writing stories at The Red Dress Club kind of regularly.  I'm enjoying this.  I used to write poems in high school and always imagined writing.  It only took me 50 years to get around to it.
Anyone interested should check it out.  And it's not just for women, there are some awesome male writers too. If you'd like to read some of my, um...stuff, it's on my other blog, Elsetime & Otherwhen.

And this week, got to test some upgrades for my favorite iPod app TapTapRevenge.  If you have an iPod Touch or iPhone, and you like music, check it out.  And if you get there, look for me. 2old2tap, that is where that "handle" started.

Hoping and hoping and hoping to have a real, honest to goodness bathtub by summer.  Plumbing work is coming along.  We have to move the laundry room to make a space for my dream tub.  But it will be, So Worth It.

Of course I've been working, trying to keep my poor restaurant's head above water.  The gas price insanity is not helping. Maybe I should just break down and buy a lottery ticket.  Someone wins. 

Right?

Unbuttoned :(

Yay! I made button.
Boo! I am failing at creating a "grab box".

But. By all that is techy...
I. Will. Figure. This. Out.

Someday, sigh.

Edit:

I. Dood. It. YAY!!!

Plumb Undone

Hubby dear decided it is time to "fix" the plumbing in this old house. The pipes are old. They have been added to multiple times. The water pressure sucks. And there are pipes going nowhere. 
There are pipes going in circles. Almost. 

I asked him, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
I said, "We can get a plumber."

Him. "We don't need a plumber. I can do this. Nothing to it"

Yeah, right. 

He spent all day in the basement. 
I came home from work and headed upstairs to work on my own project. As far from the basement as I could get. 

I try very hard to not get involved with his DIY projects. They are recipes for 10 kinds of hell. 
I cannot hold a flashlight where it works for him. Have you ever tried to aim a light for not your own eyes?  
I cannot tell him what diameter a pipe is just by looking at it. 
I cannot find the tool he just had. 
I cannot read his mind. 

So. I'm upstairs. 
After 4 hours, I have done all I can on my project. Which, by the way, does not entail shutting off utilities. 

He has been "fixing" the plumbing for 8 hours. 
He is not winning. 
Foolishly, I ask how it's going. 
"If you want to know, come down and watch me!"
This was not a polite invitation. 
This was a statement that I wasn't being very helpful. 
I try to be helpful. 
"How about taking a break and I'll fix dinner"
Sneer, "I'm not eating dinner with sewer hands. I have to get the water on to wash my hands. That plate is not for me. I have sewer water on my hands"
There were other words I chose not to type. 

I'm starting to become annoyed. I prefer to be able to flush the toilet after use. 
And the dog's water bowl is empty. The dog keeps looking at me. Damn. 

Eureka!

I approach the DIYer. "The water is warm enough now, you can wash and eat. Then tackle the pipes after a break."

"Where'd you get water?", suspicion that I'd gone into the basement and was flooding it. 

"Outside."
"What?"
"Snow."

Yes, 4 inches of fluffy water. Pop it in a pan. Turn on the flame, poof!  Warm, handwashing water. 

After eating dinner with clean hands, his brain began to function again. 
"I can replace this join with a shut off and we can have water in the upstairs bathroom. And at least cold water downstairs. Then I can start tomorrow to get the rest done." he's all smiley and smart now. 

Tomorrow I have to work later. 

I hope it's later enough. 

Frozen in Time

This was written for The Red Dress Club ,the prompt was write a piece - 600 word limit - about finding a forgotten item of clothing in the back of a drawer or closet. Let us know how the item was found, what it is, and why it's so meaningful to you or your character.

In the back of the closet. Covered by a dry cleaner's bag. My father's Navy pea coat.

I found it as I was emptying the two rooms my husband and I were getting ready to paint and clean up. One room was mine as a teenager. The other had been my parent's room. After we all moved away, it was Daddy's room until his death in 2004.

Daddy was in the Navy in 1951.  He was discharged in 1952 at the request of his father. Daddy's mother passed away on February 20th, 1952.  She died of cancer.  I wasn't born until 1956. I never knew her. And now I live in the house she had moved to just three years before her death.

My grandparents moved a lot. Living in Ohio, Chicago, Buffalo, somewhere in California. And places between.  I had the feeling there were a lot of rented rooms during that time. My father was in high school when they bought this house.  She had her own home for three years.

Daddy's pea coat is still here. Because the death of his mother stopped time in this house. And even though Daddy brought his wife and infant daughter to live here in 1956, and had four more children, some things never changed. The steamer trunks full of his mother's clothes, letters and trinkets. The box grater and flour sifter in the kitchen. The pretty glass pieces in the built in china cabinet.

They are all still here. Like Daddy's pea coat.  Sixty years. Locked in time.

Waiting to be rediscovered. And released.

What Should I Do?

It's Wednesday.
It's my first whole day off since my granddaughter was born. Since my daughter and I are partners in our restaurant. She's back to work now.
I've spent 2 hours stalking twitter and reading random blogs.
I'm still in pajamas.
I have coffee.

All is well in my world.

There are lots of things I could do. Lots of things I should do.
But?
I'm only going to do things I feel like doing.
And that's not much.
Because.
It's MY day off.
And if the husband wants Pepsi? I'll be glad to give directions to the gas station/convenience store at the corner.
I may make dinner just so I can eat. Maybe.
I may find some boots. Just so I can walk around my snow covered gardens. Just in case there's some green hiding out. But I'll still be in pajamas.
If the neighbors don't approve? Don't look.
It's MY day off.

I may play games on my iPod.
All. Day. Long.

Because. IT'S MY DAY OFF!!

The Most Useless Post Ever

It's been a long week.

Work was not a fun place this week.  Had to "break up" with a long time employee.  That was one of the hardest things I've had to do.
Home was a little better.  Hubby dear has suddenly become the happy house husband.  Which is awesome!  I've been working a lot more hours lately, so it's great to come home to no housework.  He is retired, so it's okay.
While paying my water bill this month, I got to talk to a human!  And was told my bill was way higher than it should be and there must be a leak.  I explained we'd just repaired a running toilet.  She said, NO.  Bigger than that.  Oh no. 
We checked everywhere for water. Nothing.
Friday, I came home to a mess in the kitchen.  Hubby dear had torn the bottom out of the kitchen sink cabinet.  Wow.  It goes directly to a crawl space under there.  There was copper pipe.  Coming from the ground.  Going?  Nowhere, it was capped off.  And leaking like an artisan spring.  Wonderful.
It was a line, that 50 years ago, was hooked to a washer that was on the long gone back porch.  Really?  When that remodel was done in the '70's, we couldn't have taken care of that?
Evidently not.
However, through the purest form of dumb luck, we found line in the basement that was feeding it.  It is not feeding any more.  Fixed.  YAY!

Also this week, on a kinda positive note, I made my first clumsy attempt at fiction at the The Red Dress Club with this post Whispers .  I make no promise of quality.

Now I'm just working on relaxing.  I know there's some wine here.  Somewhere.

Ages of Discovery

My daughter came back to work Friday. So I got to babysit/visit with the grandkids. 
The grandson is a little over 2 now. Very independent, very busy, busy, busy. He'll find anything that will roll (pencils, tape rolls, batteries, cars) and take them to the doorway between the living room and dining room. There is a small slope in the floor there. He will roll whichever treasure he's found down the hill. Then come jump in either Gramma or Grampa's lap, sit a minute then go stand in front of the TV and "play" with Dora or Diego. And then off to find something else. 

The granddaughter is 2 months. She smiles and laughs. (and poops) She wants more holding than her brother did.   So different already.  This is the first time I've watched her. But she wasn't disturbed by being in this strange place with these people she hadn't spent any time with. 

The grandson isn't really interested in his baby sister much at this point. But I noticed when she can see him?  She is enchanted. She will look only at him as long as he's in view.  

I'll be babysitting weekly now. I look forward to spending time with them. The grandson at that fun discovery age   The granddaughter at that fun new thing everyday age.  Cause I'm at that now I feel like I have more time and patience age. 

Walking on Eggshells

You have a nice smile
And a charming easy laugh
And lovely blue eyes

A movie? Why yes!
I'd love to go out with you
I'm falling for you

I don't understand
Why you say mean things like that
I love only you

They were friends of mine
You are hurting my feelings
Bruising my ego

We go out to shop
You buy me pretty trinkets
To show you love me

Your words, like sharp knives
Cutting my heart, my stomach
My faith in your love

I would not do that!
Why do you accuse me so
What is wrong with you

Test the air each day
Which man are you on this day
Eggshells on the floor

What is wrong with me
That makes you be so hateful
Makes you hate me so

I'm tired of fearing you
I strike back with my own words
You have lit my rage

I pour pop on you
Your backhand bruises my face
You're a manly man

You hold me tightly
And say how much you love me
And then you love me

And yet another day
Your hand is around my throat
I kick, bite and scratch

"if this is blood here
You will be one bloody bitch
When I come back out"

I'm gone before that
Police car takes you away
My life falls apart

We talk about this
You don't know why you do this
Promise to get help

Together again
Broken promise big surprise
Eggshells on the floor

 A warrant issued
Because you didn't sign up
Now I guess you will

Meetings and talking
You begin to understand
Power and control

Things have changed so much
A struggle to be honest
Rebuilding our love

The word scars remain
Inside my heart forever
That will never change

I do forgive you
But I can't quite forget them
Though I keep trying

We are together
No more eggshells on the floor
No fear here anymore

You have a nice smile
And a charming easy laugh
And loving blue eyes

A Little Sunday Miracle!

Sunday was a good day.

As usual I worked 5am to 3pm.

But I had plans for the evening!

After work I stopped at my daughter's house to pick up the grandson for a visit.  I've missed him.  Since she's been off work I haven't gotten to see him much.
I was figuring how to spend time with him, get housework caught up and do some book work for the restaurant.

I got home.  And a miracle had happened while I was gone.

Hubby dear had cleaned the kitchen.  Crushed the soda cans.  Made the bed. Gathered and took out the trash.
And?  Did laundry.
He's always been good about running the washer and dryer. But this time, he folded the clothes!

I almost fainted.
But I had a grandson to enjoy.

And we had a good time.  He likes to play First Words Deluxe on my iPod.  He can sit forever and spell.
We play with his toys, we watched Nick Jr., and we made brownies.
He's on an eating strike just now, so after dinner he munched on Chex.
He played ball with the dog and chased the cats.

I need more days like this.

You Have Given Me Value

My birthday is in August.  I had just tuned 5 when i started kindergarten.  As the oldest child I didn't have any social experience with kids my own age.  To say I was shy?  Understatement.

I don't remember a lot of my elementary years in school.  Probably because I didn't do much.  Just showed up and sat there.
What I do remember?

Missing the bus and arriving to kindergarten late.  With my savings envelope.  Do they do that anymore?  I don't think so.  Anyway.  I shuffled timidly into the room, chewing on my envelope.  I don't know if the teacher said anything to me.  She simply walked up.  Took the envelope.  And swatted my butt.  I never understood why.  I don't know to this day.

Second grade.  All the kids played marbles.  I got hold of a marble from an old Chinese checkers game.  I found the courage to ask to play.  I lost my marble first round.  Of course I started to cry.  Not sobby.  Just tears leaking out.  The older girl, bless her, didn't make fun.  She said it's ok, and gave me a different marble.  Even though she was so kind?  I never tried to play with other kids again.

All grades.  The oral book report.  I hated them.  I'd turn red, sweat, and when I spoke, it was barely a squeaky whisper.  And always the teachers.  "Speak up.  Start over.  Speak up!"  I  still cannot speak to a group larger than 4 or 5 without feeling I'm about to throw up.

I don't think I actually interacted with the kids I went to school with until 9th grade.  I had neighborhood friends, but usually they were a year or two behind me in school.  The kids my age lived farther away.  In the 9th grade, a new family moved in with a daughter my age.
 We were polar opposites.  I was the quiet shy mouse.  She was an extrovert.  Loud.  Confidant (or so I believed then).  And...obnoxious.  She was my best friend through high school.  I thought.  I was much older when I learned she wasn't that good for me.  The lessons we learn too late.

I still am not a very social type.  I have few friends.  A lot of aquaintances.  I'm sure it's me.  Not them.  I just don't let people in.

This past year, between Twitter and blogging and my addiction to TapTapRevenge on my iPod, I have met more people and made more connection with those people than the entire rest of my life.  It has also made a difference in the way I interact with the people I know "in real life".  It may sound like a sad thing. 
But? 
It isn't.  This is the first time ever I've felt socially accepted.  And I feel a debt of gratitude to my "virtual friends" for making me see my own worth.

I'm Not Retiring Yet

I have decided my New Year's goal. I'm going to work more. I've begun scheduling myself 2 extra morning shifts at my restaurant.
I think the reason I feel so tired and achy all the time is because I stopped really working. I'd changed or rather, chained myself to a desk. Doing paperwork.
Paperwork needs done. But it's not physically active. Only mentally. And often, emotionally. It can be traumatic deciding which bills get paid today.
So.
I'm now going to work at 4am 5 times a week instead of 3. I'm on my feet and moving for more hours. I'm hoping this will help me regain some muscle. And maybe even some sanity.
Lose a little weight. Lose some stiff joints. And maybe even some sanity.

So that's my plan. Deep breath. I can still do this.

Pray for me