Hints for Single guys

I love comments, I got a minute to review them today. These questions really got me going!

Why do women hold back or go so slow on relationships?
I think men are hard wired to procreate to the point that they can continue on to the next female easier than the female can take a risk on the next hunter/provider not working out. Men are trained from childhood to stifle their more tender emotions. To show pain is unmanly except in the most extreme circumstances. You don't dwell on the pain, you work to forget it quickly. This makes it seem like it is easier for you to go quickly on to the next woman.

Picking a mate for life is not the time to worry about instant physical gratification, either. Your sensitive side, if properly applied to the current problem, will tell you that a women can be frightened of things moving too quickly out of her intelligent control and into emotional hormone roller coaster mode. She may REALLY like you A LOT but can't relax and go with the flow yet.

So is she just a passing fancy or do you really want her forever? Only you know the truth. How much time and effort are you willing to put into having what you see as the correct mate for you? When it seems like you are ready to commit and she isn't yet try this; For perspective think "the rest of my life" and subtract the 60 days or whatever you have known the woman of your dreams. The time invested is tiny compared to the possible payoff!

The math for life applies here. "Is this going to be fun later?" If you lose this woman you can get another and start over. That might be fun. Or is this really THE ONE? If so losing her won't be any fun ever. If this is the case, it's time for a little finesse. Slow and gentle, like you are talking a kitty out of a very tall tree and off a little tiny branch. You have to make sure all the dogs are gone first. A little bowl of milk or a small piece of fragrant bacon would not out of line. You have learned a little about her, what she likes, use it.

Maybe it's not time for going whole hog, all guns blazing, into a heavy relationship for either of you. Being friends really is still an option. Tell her the things you like about her and enjoy doing with her (avoid physical attributes) that make you want to be HER friend and suggest that it might be nice if you had a coffee to talk it over and agree on what is fun for you both and what is not. Just sort of set some limits so you don't step past the boundaries of friendship and offend each other by by mistake.

How about a trip to (something she is interested in?) ? Some of us are going to the (museum, zoo, to see the lipizanner stallions, a play, something she would enjoy...) on the 00th? (at least two weeks ahead so you have time to set it up) Would you like to join us? (make it a mixed group of singles and couples - non-threatening)

Don't just give her carte blanc, set limits for her, too. She will believe you are trying to be a good friend. Like don't call me after 10 pm, I get up early or don't make me your phone call life line on who wants to be a millionaire, I don't know enough trivia and knowing I was on TV would freeze me, I couldn't answer anyway.

Or ok, can we talk on the phone sometimes? I could use a womanly perspective on (dating, cycling, life decisions, curtains for the bedroom). You can call me if you need help with the yard work, painting, a partner to the roller rink, a 4th in bridge, a bowling partner, whatever you feel a MALE friend would ask you to do. Is it ok if we go bike riding? How about shopping? I could use some advice on the gift for my sister. Is dinner out to date-ish?

If she comes right out and says she doesn't want to see you anymore. You will know where you stand, however painful it is and can start looking for a new mate. Or you might marry your best friend, I did.

Why am I able to deal with an ex who messed me up and she can't?

You are two different people, recovery times vary, even for open heart surgery. Men only have to impregnate to complete their mission as they are wired to do. A woman has to pick a man that will not only be fertile but protect her while she is gravid and guard the children as they grow.

Women just can't recover that quickly. They have to figure out what went wrong. If you use your more tender side you will realize she is picking a mate for forever and will take her time rather than be wrong again.

Picking so terribly wrong - even once -severely damages her confidence in her ability to choose correctly and she is very hesitant to try again. She will remain celibate rather than risk being unprotected or even physically mistreated when she is vulnerable in pregnancy. You will have to SHOW her you are better that the other guys and talk her into taking the risk with you by SHOWING you are steady, reliable, funny, responsible and care about HER happiness. It takes time to show these traits.

Or is this just another case of women and men not understanding one another?
See the "I stepped on a 4" nail." theory of communication.

People react to pain differently. In these kind of experiences only you react your way. I fight, maybe it's flight for you - intense wound licking drinking, comfort from your friends....you got over the first one and even if the second one "nails" you again you will survive and be a little more able to relate to others in pain.

A Quick point on History. If you are over 18 you have been down the love road before and had it yanked out from under you. You KNOW it won't kill you to fail.

Don't let one hemorrhoid spoil the joy you can have for the rest of your life. Get over it and move on as soon as you can. But if it's worth waiting for - WAIT - Don't push!

Now, back to our regularly scheduled blogging

The weekend goes so quickly! I hate that.

I mean, when you are a kid, you get up at say, oh, seven in the morning. You clean up, brush your teeth, get dressed, go to the kitchen, drink some milk out of the jug, (because no one is looking) make yourself a bowl of cereal and maybe a piece of toast, read the back of the cereal box while you eat, rinse your dishes and stack them in the sink and go out the back door to play, being careful not to let it slam because it will wake up the other kids. You are wide awake and it seems like you have been up for hours already when the true elapsed time is about 21 minutes.

As you get older time races by you like the thing you saw crossing the road so fast you can't tell if it was a fox, a small dog or a large cat. 21 minutes into my morning I am only half dressed and still trying to catch my hair in a barrette.

I have it on good authority that is goes so fast when you are over 60 that watching a half hour TV show only takes 10 minutes and there is no waiting at the doctors office, just time to find a magazine to read and pick an article, then they call you in!

So a year, for me, is about 4 months long. This makes the next Christmas closer but leaves me with too little time for living. After you take out the hours you work, sleep, eat and clean up, mow the lawn and take care of the pets you just barely have enough time to stay friends with your spouse, much less keep up with family and friends lives or party.

Friday night I wanted to go to the Fair. It was supposed to be way hot on the weekend and storm some. I work days so that meant if I didn't get there Friday night I wouldn't get my gyro for another week!

This may not seem like a problem to you city people but out here in BFE I have to go to a place called Kalmazoo to find a real Greek gyro or sovlaka or baklava. It's a two hour drive there - four hours round trip. With gas prices here near 3.00 a gallon it's not gonna happen.

Every year at the fair Christo has his gyro wagon. He makes a trip to Greece to get spices for his meat once a year. He makes it himself and it's a family receipe. His sauce does not come out of a can, the vegetables are fresh and the pita is fresh, soft and warm. There is no more authentic gyro made in the state. I used to only be able to go once a year and have just one gyro. Now I can go twice, and, if pay day's fall right, three times to have this tasty treat. This is looking like a two gyro year.

It's not that I can't afford the gyro or the parking fee at the Fair, it's that I can't afford the addiction I have to the "pushers". These are the game that uses a happy clowns big feet to push tokens across a surface to drop them over the edge. On top of the tokens are glittery prizes you can win. You buy tokens to drop down for the clowns feet to push and it slides the other tokens and shiny prizes over the edge for you to win, eventually, maybe, if your good at it.

There are also big blue tokens, about the size of a half dollar, that you can trade in for other prizes. Three will get you a medium stuffed toy, 5 will get you a giant stuffed toy. 13 will get you a brass and silver looking Foo Dog, a miniature tea set and a pocket ashtray. That's what I brought home with me Friday night. It only cost me about $Undisclosed to keep stupidity. to myself.

Part of the fun of going to the Fair is having someone to talk about it with. My mate is crowd shy and my Mom was busy witha replacement kid she hangs out with so I called the sister next. Cee raced through her chores and got to my place in under an hour.

We took her car and she paid for the parking while I committed to real fries with malt vinegar for her in return. (I spent 4 months in Canada and learned to like chips and gravy as well as the chips and vinegar) We ended up parking a long way from my prefer spot near the ladies bathrooms. I am still having trouble walking for long distances, say two blocks, so this was going to be a problem.

We strolled by the open stage to see some Beatle impersonators wearing Nehru jackets in the 90 degree heat/75% humidity. I took a second to feel sorry for them and say a little prayer that they wouldn't collapse from heat exaustion. We continued on to the relative cool of the Merchants Building. You can find all kinds of fun things in there. Crystals, fudge, chairs that massage you almost everywhere, fresh roasted cinnamon almonds, fences for the yard, artwork, dragon statuettes, and jewelry were some of the usual items.

I stopped by the fudge to get the mate a treat. There was a dark chocolete one that melted in you hands, your mouth and your hips it was so rich and sweet but I refrained because I might need the money for the pushers.

Some of the original art work was amazing and beautiful. I didn't have enough to get any but there were several I would have liked to have. We admired it and moved on to the high point of my night, the gyro. Cristo is usually near the front entrance and, of course, the pushers are at the rear. Allowing for my challenged walking, I didn't want to come back this way later.

I found him and it was him, not his son, this year. We actually had to wait in a long line. Usually there are only a few people there. I noticed he had expanded the menu to include chicken gyros. It was warm and dusty standing there. The sis and I were chatting as we waited.

A round, short as me almost, guy with short grey hair covered by a baseball cap came up and put his arms around our necks and smiled at us. He said something forgetable (as in I forgot what he said) and I looked at Cee and said, "Do you know this guy?" as I was getting ready to nail him with the ink pen no longer in my purse but in my hand and held like an ice pick. I was aiming at the ribs.

That's right, I am not only NOT a touchy feely person but actively discourage close contact from strangers.

"Oooohh, you BOTH know ME," he said, "I'm (insert name of kid your younger sisters age from high school that used to play drums in a garage band)!"

I put the weapon away and we commenced catching up with our histories and have you seens like any other group that hasn't seen each other in forever. I mentioned my friend Leslie I am looking for and he said he'd seen her not too long ago.

Then my neighbors over the back fence came by and we chatted while Cee and the drummer talked some more.

I finally got to the front of the line so I could remind Christo that I only got one gyro a year and to make it with a little extra meat. I asked after his son and he said the boy didn't like the work. Finally I had my gyro in my greedy little hand.

We parted from all the yackers and started off down the midway looking for the fries we wanted. I got to lagging by this time, my hips were burning in the joints, so we found a bench. Cee went back to the first place she had spotted with fires while I nibbled my gyro and rested.

We munched our treats and discussed people walking by us. The heady scents of carmel corn, sausage, and cotton candy wafted past with each tiny breeze. ZZ Top played in the backround from the grand stand stage and all was right with the world.

We agreed to split up so she could see the animal barns while I indulged my addiction. I spotted a pusher, started to walk around it to pick out a "hot" machine and walked right into my friend Leslie's brother, Tie! Then I remembered he was married to my other friend, Rocky! Cee and I were both sweet on her big brother at one time.

We had a great visit, met their son the marine and HIS son and found out where we all were and what we had been doing the past 15 years. That's the last time I saw them. On my 35th bday Rocky and I went riding and my horse went over backwards to land on me. He did it on purpose! I landed in a natural depression but got the wind knocked out of me. I loved it! Most people my age were out getting smashed on the bday, I however, had a horse try to take me out. Adventures still!

They would pass on my phone numbers to Les! I have great hopes of seeing her soon. They left not long after that. We agreed to meet at the pusher and Cee took off, too.

I found a hot machine to play and indulged my need for the pushers. Cee came back and played a while, too. I took my 13 tokens and cashed out when I realized it was almost midnight and I still had to walk back to the car.

It was cooler and dark, the crowds were thinner, the noise level lower and all in all it was a great night at the Fair.

The Unseen Wounded

I have the new site for information on wounded soldiers and resources for those who want to help up and running. I moved and modified the posts from here and added a couple. My goal is to highlight one soldier's story each week or more often, if possible. Please check it out.

Beeeeeee Yourself

I have been checking out the blogs again. I saw several that stated they wished they got comments like so-and-so's blog does. I wandered along to several of the mentioned blogs that get lots of comments. Most of them are designed to generate input. Cute little questions, fancy photos, tiny posts made frequently and google ads in the side bars. They were ok, but they were not REAL!

For me, blogs are supposed to be journals or information for public reading. If you are a hot tatter you publish patterns and instructions with links to similar sites. If you are journaling, you post about what is happening or has happened in your life.

I get sucked into the tests because I like testing my knowledge. I trip over the quizzes because I am curious about myself. I have pretty much abandoned posting them here because this is where my friends and family can see what is up with us, so I write about us or what is important to me.

I LOVE comments. This does not make me stand out from the crowd, we all LOVE comments. They show that what we wrote touched someone enough to take the time to tell us their feelings on the topic. I try to respond to all my commentors out of courtesy but don't always have the time. I DO visit all their blogs. They make me laugh, cry, feel better about my life or guilty that my life is so good. They make me think. Some of them bore me. Others I don't miss a day of reading.

And I comment on their posts. I love to put my two cents in! On some blogs I am up to fifty bucks worth of sticking my nose in! I really enjoy blogging in most of it's aspects.

What I will NOT do to get comments is change the way I write or what I am writing about. If I bore you, very sorry, run along! Have I annoyed you? It's not an unusual reaction to me stating an opinion. Mention it to me, we can discuss it. Did I make you laugh or sigh or think or cry? Then I am glad, even gladder when you tell me so. But I won't change what I am doing to suit YOU, my readers. Then it wouldn't be me, it would be someone else.

I like me! I think I am funny, witty, kind hearted, intelligent, good natured and laid back. I have a great relationship with my mate, my kids, my pets and most of our family. Riding motorcycles is a big part of my life. I like to go fishing. I play gutiar and sing when no one is looking now but used to make a living at it. I just want to chronicle the events in my life here.

So I just want to say to all you bloggers out there, beee yourself! I may not be back to your blog but another 1000 people might end up going there every day! I like you just the way your are. Comments will come, in time. Don't stress about it so much.

I'll see you Monday! Enjoy your weekends!

True Love

I got a bad case of the weak knee mushies last night. The Mate did it to me. He does it to me a lot but, for some cosmic reason, this little action made my chest tighted with unshed tears, gave me the power to stretch my limits and left me knowing what being truly loved feels like deep in my soul. I will probably be unable to explain it well. Bear with me here.

I got home last night just ahead of the rain. I was on the bike, which, in this blog, means, motorcycle. I was hustling right along because I know the mate worries and I hate getting wet. When I pulled in the drive way the mate came out the back door before I had the bike turned around and shut off. I hopped off, grabbed my water jug, freed the lunch cooler from the bungie net and snatched that off, all before I took off my legally required helmet. We were under a tree so the rain wasn't getting through yet but I didn't want him to be slowed down by me. He had come out so he could back the bike in the garage for me.

Yup, tuff biker broad can't back her own bike in. So sue me! I prefer to drive in and back out but with the steel hip and no muscles (yet) it's hard to get the 800 pound bike over the two inch high boards he has down to keep the water out of the garage. So he backs it in for me. Why? Because he can, he's STRONG, because he likes it backed in, because he likes to know I can take off anytime on the bike I feel like it and because he loves me.

So while he backed the blue ox in I took off my helmet, holding the lunch cooler in one hand and clutching the water jug under the same arm. I dropped it to grab the little teal bike (which means the 3 speed bicycle) when he caught the handle bars with my windshield. We got my two bikes untangled and I picked up the helmet, handed it to him to put on my seat and we got out of the stifling hot garage and went into the cool house.

A light dinner of chop suey was ready to whip up and he cooked because I worked and he didn't and he loves me. I had 5 minutes to pour the milk get into something more comfortable, which I did. We had our usual touchy feely fun while getting our dinner finished. BIG smile here!

While we ate the boomers started up. One of them was like a 90 second rumbler! The rain was smashing down into the brown grass (his favorite kind because we don't mow as often) and the birds were hopping in and out of the bird bath. We were snug and happy. Nice dinner!

After I picked up the dishes and stacked them and went to join him watching something interesting on the tube. I feel asleep. The heat really pounds me into the dirt, no air at the office. Around 8:00 I woke up. About 8:15 I noticed it was light outside again. I said, "I think it quit raining, wanna go for a bike ride?" (meaning the u-pedal bikes).

He stepped out to see how the weather was. It was a little close to dusk but the rain had quit and the sky had cleared and it was much cooler out than it had been earlier. "Sure, looks like we can ride."

I found my mocs and my water jug, grabbed a hat to shove my hair under and went out the back door. He was there ahead of me and had both bikes out already, because he loves me.

So I lead off because he likes the view and lets me set the pace because I'm pretty slow yet and he loves me. I got a wild hair and went north up a gravel hill I hate, coasted to the paved road and went west instead of east toward the creek. I called the turn so he wouldn't run me over and he followed me out and turned left behind me.

He was a little surprised because west is up hill. Hills are my bane right now. What I am calling hills you cyclists would call a low rise in the road. This one is a longer, more subtle rise that goes about a mile and a half. I made it to the second sign on the other side, about a half a mile I guess, then called a u-turn and headed back. When we passed the paved corner I was back on my regular loop again.

I have been using my gears the last few rides. I even got into 3rd! For some reason the up slope I had just ridden was level or still an up slope for part of the way back east. I finally got into 3 but had to drop back to two before the bridge. I was losing my knees and my wind.

We pulled over to look at the creek but the nasty biter bugs were so bad I just gulped some water, and said," I'm being eating alive! Heading for the corner, wait here for me if you want." I thought he might like a longer break. Nope, he followed me out and we went for the next corner.

I went down but was traveling slower and into gears lower all the way. I just kept pedaling but it was soooo sssssllllooooowwww. The mate whipped by me on his 21 speed and I watched him turn and wait for me. I finally got there, turned, and we headed back to the creek.

This is all up slope again. There is about 50 level feet then up we go. I hate it. I was huffing and puffing and I decided to stop and let a car by so I could catch my breath. I panted about 30 seconds while it passed us and called back that I was going to turn in at the gravel street, not go clear to the paved road I normally used.

He said ok. I saw a car coming behind us so I whipped into the turn and went to pull over in the end of a drive way but the stupid car turned right behind us and is signaling that IT wants to use that drive way, so I keep pushing the pedals and head up the gravel hill.

Now if you can follow all that in your head you will see I have had one very short break on the bridge. Usually I get 10 minutes there to get rested up and I get 5 on the way back just to look at the water awhile. Plus, I added about a mile to the loop.

So there I was, winded, knees screaming, burn in the thighs and facing the steepest of the hills between the house and I with a car behind me. I am not an easy cryer but I was thinking about it and calling my self things like "stupid show off, moron, and idiot" as I stuggled to kick the pedals down one more time.

I have a 'tude problem, always have had, and I was NOT walking that bike. I haven't had to walk it yet and I wasn't starting now. But my legs are moving slower and slower. I realize I am throwing my hips from side to side to get some ass into it, trying to keep the pedals moving.

While the mate isn't as out of shape as I am, he's working it after the show off sprint to the corner. I know he's tired,too,from our short jaunt.

From behind me I hear, "You're doing fine, you can do it, you're going to make it." from the Grumpy Coach. I'm too winded to answer, my head is hanging low and I'm thinking, "ya, right! and the Lions are going to the Super Bowl this year!" But I'm still just barely plugging away at it. "Stupid pride, idiot woman!" chanting in my head.

I look up from the front wheel and see I have about 6 more feet to the crest, 5 feet of level coming soon and a coast for a block to the driveway. My knees are screaming, I'm gritting my teeth from the pain in them and my thighs are steaming, screaming hot! I know I am going to have to walk the last four feet up that hill.

Then it happened.

I felt a hand touch me just above my lower ribs and it PUSHED me for all of about 1 second.

I knew what it was. The mate had ridden close to me and given me a little shove. He could see I was failing fast and he knows about my different attitude problems. He didn't want me to quit and feel like I failed. He knew I wasn't going to stand up and he knew I was about to give up. He completely understood where my head was but knew I needed a little extra oomph to get where I wanted to go, so he gave me a little boost, even though he was lagging, too.

My heart totally grokked this all in about a split second and made my eyes tear up while my chest inflated with air as I sucked as hard as I could to keep breathing through the shock.

It let me get the pedal down again. The mate pulled ahead of me and called, "Come on, buddy!"

I made it. I hit the level and the bike stood there till I could get the strength to push the pedals twice more and it was all down hill from there.

We pulled in the yard and put the bikes away. He turned to go into the house and I blocked his way. "Kiss me."

No debate there! I laid one on him that was gentle and about 15 years old, sweet, new love showing itself.

He got it. He doesn't understand WHY it affected me that way, but he knew how much I loved him at that moment.

So do you get it or do I have to try again tomorrow to explain true love.

James Doohan - Montgomery Scott 1920 - 2005

Tribute

War Heros

Hear His Voice

Star Trek Site

Ashes going to Space

Memorial Gathering, Canada

Memorial Gathering, Scotland

When I was little we watched the first moon landings in school. I was fascinated. I totally grokked that this man would explode and DIE if his suit got a hole in it.

I went on to find Robert Heinlein books at the library. I really wanted to be a pioneer, a terra-former on a new planet. Barring that being an astronaut was my second choice.

Then came Star Trek. I wanted IN! I would even be a red shirt! I really wanted to be the botanist. They really needed one!

So today I want to say,"You've done a fine job, Mr. Scott, in showing two generations that being an engineer can be exciting, challenging and rewarding. Many inventions in the past 10 years and in the future will be because you led the way to making the impossible happen. May every science and engineering student hold you as the finest example of their craft. I salute you."

"Mr. Doohan was also a soldier involved in D-Day in 1945, surviving treacherous seas and invading enemy territory. "I got hit by a machine gun, and received four (bullets) in the left knee, and three hit that one finger--and they eventually took it off--" He showed his right hand, missing the middle finger. "--and one hit a sterling silver cigarette case that my brother had given me for being best man at his wedding. And I still have that at home, with the dent in it." He added that he took most of the dent out and continued using that cigarette case until 24 years ago when he quit smoking."

Before I die...

Yesterday's post got me started counting my blessings. Now, I do this daily, at least once. Everytime the mate does something nice for me or the birds are expecially entertaining, or it rains and the roof doesn't leak or when I look out the window at our lovely yard....or just when I am on my way to work in or on a vehicle that a) Runs b) is insured and c) is paid for I try to remember to appreciate it and be thankful. I can even be ok with the expense of buying a new appliance because one quits running. At least the whole house didn't burn down!

I keep finding blogs out there with younger people in the growing stages of life who have, what they think are, so many problems in their lives that they are discouraged, depressed, and despondent. I want to help them get through it with a little less pain. I just can't. I am not the fairy godbikerlady. No wand, no magic spells. Just lots and too much experience. It just hurts my heart to see them feel so blue, lonely, sad and neglected. So today you get the list of "Things I want to tell you before I die."
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One day, after I finally had the OK Corral with the first husband, I was sitting at the dining room table and realized that I was looking at things in my cabinet that were making me think sad thoughts. The music box that was a gift from "a friend" that slept with my husband, stuff like that. I had stopped seeing the people that made me sad, why was I keeping this stuff?

I stared at the problem items awhile, thinking how much they cost, what good shape they were in, how much I used to enjoy them and how crappy I felt about them now. I decided I had enough pain and sadness in my heart that I didn't need it in my home anymore.

I got up, (huge effort because I was really and clinically depressed) took out everything that was making me sad and put it in a box I got from the kitchen. I felt better, just a tiny bit better. It was such an improvement over "I wish I was dead" that I kept moving.

I started on the walls, the closets; I went through the whole place. I cried for the loss of friends and the loss of the family we could have been the whole time I was boxing. I ended up in the bedroom and even tossed the pillow that was the husband's because I wanted the bed to be just MY bed now. I hauled it all (4 boxes, large ones) out to the curb and left it. Then I got out the vacuume and the rags and started cleaning as I put back all the happy thought items I had kept. It was my home, arranged to suit me and the kids. I felt better than I had in months!

If it makes you sad or miserable, get rid of it - people included. If something or someone makes you smile or feel happy appreciate it and say thank you.
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There is a mom I know who always runs out to stop her kids when they are doing something she thinks will hurt them. They never get to climb a tree, walk a wall, ride double on a bike and forget a ramp for the skateboards! I always wonder how they will ever succeed at anything when they not only don't get a chance to try, but don't learn the consequences of failing or know basic first aide.

When you look out the window and see your three year old on the top bar of the swing set - close the curtains! She got up there ok, it's only 5 feet high, she will get down ok - or not.

Let people challenge and learn their own limits. (sub note: keep a well stocked first aide kit!)
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I used to keep all my burned out light bulbs and when I was really ready to rage I would grab a bag, go out back to the big, tin trash can and commence smashing. You got the satisfaction of destruction, the noise of breakables, the release of the frustration at not being able to strangle someone and you didn't have to clean up the mess or call the paramedics.

It's ok to be angry at home but don't take it out on your family.
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When you need help ASK for it from someone. Tell your friends you have a need. People are not mind readers. By telling a friend you are begining the grapevine locating process. They mention it to their Mom, she says it to her prayer group, one of them says, I have one in my garage I just want out of there! or I could babysit and BINGO -- you got it!

"You don't ask, you don't get, no harm in trying." (items in italics are things I always say, some are original and some are borrowed. I learned this one from a guy who propsitioned me after I turned him down.)
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There is a girl of 26 who is haunted by kids that are the ages her's would be - if she had not had abortions in her late teens. She is sad and grieving all the time and on drugs for her depression. She has a job, an apartment and pays her own way now but feels she is a terrible person. (And we all know the answer is usually USE birth control of some kind, assume she can't, don't just call her stupid)

Then there is the woman who is trying to make her own way in the world but she has her 4 children taken away from her because she can't provide for them "properly" with her minimum wage job and can't supervise them when she is at work. She can't afford a sitter and still pay the rent. Which one made the wrong decision? The one with live kids she can't take care of up to socially required standards or the one who hates herself now?

There is no RIGHT answer, there is only what you decided was right for you. It's done now, deal with it and move on. Forgive yourself! "YOU are NOT everyone else."

Don't beat yourself for perceived "wrong decisions" in your past. The world will beat your butt for them plenty if they were truely wrong, forgive yourself. "Is this going to matter in a hundred years?"
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Every night at bed time I would read my kids a story and then TELL THEM ONE GOOD THING they had done that day and say how nice it was they had done that. I was always so tired from working and not getting any sleep days that I was too quick to shout at them or correct them. By finding ONE THING, no matter how small, to tell them they did well I sent them to sleep knowing they did a good thing and I felt better, I hoped it would magically erase the rough times from the day.

You always remember to correct poor behavior, now train yourself to comment on good actions. Say, thank you for your help, for cleaning your room, for doing the dishes, for taking out the trash, for mowing the lawn, watching your brother, setting the table, feeding the dog. It doesn't matter that they are the regular chores, you are at least glad you didn't have to do them! So tell the ones who did them that they are appreciated.

SAY IT LOUD AND OFTEN! Anything positive, I love you. I'm proud of you. Great job, well done, nice shirt, beautiful eyes, I love the way you (did somthing). You have (will) grown to be wonderful, responsible, reliable, intelligent, daring, caring and loving humans and you make me laugh.
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Don't ever let the fact that everyone else is doing it be the reason you do anything. Right now, for some teens, "everyone else" is into seeing how long and how high they can feel by not breathing. One mom is burying her son today because he didn't breathe for too long. "You are NOT everyone else! Use Your Brain!"

Don't expect them to love you all the time. Set the rules then stick to them. They will HATE you. Be willing to be the bad guy. They will understand when they are older even if they never have kids. "I am not EVERYONE ELSE'S (mom, dad, girlfriend, etc.)! You are not going to "fill in the blank""

Compromise - with the partner, the teens, the two year old. Don't fight, work it out. We can watch wrestling later if I can watch a movie now. You can cut your hair anyway you want it after you have a job for 30 days. Give A the toy back and I will get you the "better toy here."
Do it NOW! If it's something only you can do get it done and out of the way. Later isn't even a possibility in reality, it's only what you THINK will happen.

Do the chores first and play all the rest of the day guilt free.

Don't be afraid to try new things, have new experiences. "Go for it!" "There's only two ways to find out - try it and see or ask someone who knows. "I don't know anyone who knows."

When you have an issue with someone TELL them. "Don't tell me after the party."

Tell them NOW, not six weeks later when they not only can't fix it but you are six weeks angrier about it. "You can't fix it if you don't know it's broke." and "I won't know it's broke if you don't tell me."

Pay the bills, buy the groceries and THEN party. "Is this going to be fun later?"

If your partner hits you - at any time for any reason - get out, don't go back.
I don't care if you are naked and broke, get out. At least the cops will put you in jail for indecent exposure and you will have 3 hots and a cot! You wouldn't treat your dog like that so why would you think it's ok for you to be physically hurt for any reason? "Is this worth dying for?" ("this" being a bad relationship or unhappy family life here)

Be honest with yourself about how you feel. Lie to your mom, the government, the cops, the preacher - Don't lie to yourself.

Be honest with others and expect honesty from your friends. Most of the trouble I mangaged to get in and out of was caused by telling a lie to someone or being lied to by others.

Don't blame your life on your parents or lack of. If you are over 21 then your life is what you make it. You make the decisions that keep you where you are or move you ahead.

Be responsible for your errors. If you screwed up, say so, apologize, do better next time.

Do not use deroggatory terms for "pet names". Over the long term you start forgetting the affection and hearing "butthead". Feelings get hurt, things will start to fall apart and you won't even know why. Bad words are for bad people.

If you have a scary or negative thought about your relationship, tell the partner! Discuss what made you think it and how you can avoid feeling like that. It's when you brood on it and let it fester that thoughts grow into actions.

There is nothing wrong with saying you have to get out of Dodge. Everyone needs a break from everything sometimes. Give each other a long weekend away once in awhile. Just don't let the stress build till you run screaming out the back door, get smashing drunk and crash the car.

When you do have a situation that is getting out of control, decide what you can do to fix it or make it better. Find someone to help you. Don't just ignore it. "Some problems are like a foot with gangrene, if you ignore it then it will go away." (but it takes the foot and the leg - and can take more - with it.)

You need to know your limits. You can't fix anything for anyone else if you are in no position to help. You have to keep your health up, stress level down and be solvent before you can help someone else out. So take time for yourself when you need it.

It's not always winter and life won't always be miserable. "Spring always comes."

When it gets rough, you're on the way to a wedding and have to change at tire in your bride's maid dress just smile and remember, "This will be a great story - later."

Seize the day, enjoy the facts that you are alive and healthy enough to enjoy it. Do something fun with the ones you love today.
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I wouldn't change much about my life, really, because I like who I am now. If I could change the way I handled ONE THING in my life it would be report cards. Reports cards are only important to schools. Yes, your kid needs good grades to go to college. Face it, maybe they are not interested in college. If they get bad grades and want to go on with their education later they can go to adult ed or night classes to get better grades or retake a course.

If your child can read aloud to you comfortably, NONE of the rest of it matters. If a child can read they can learn anything. Let them do it later when they learn it applies to their life. It is more important that your child feels loved and competent JUST THE WAY THEY ARE while they are young. NO STRINGS.

The stess between the "A" sibling and the "C" sibling is awful. "A" feels guilty for causing "C" to look bad and be in such trouble and "C" resents "A" and feels like he is no good. They can't tell you why to the unanswerable questions, "Why can't you do better? Why don't you turn in your work? Why don't you do your homework?" so don't ask. It all just destroys the confidence in kids who are not "academically inclined". Throw in a couple "Why can't you be like "A"'s and add "Your Grounded" and you have a kid who can't answer your questions, feels like crap and thinks you don't love them as much as you do the smarter ones.

It sucks and it is NOT THAT IMPORTANT. They are young, they don't know what they will need to know later. If you teach them to read, foster a sense of curiosity and let them feel safe and loved at home they will have the confidence they need to get through life. They will know they are OK! If they want to learn later they will do it easier and better than when they are kids.

If I was doing it over again I would be sure to correct them if there were behavior problems but let them put a piece of paper over their grades before I signed off on the cards. I don't want to know what the SCHOOL thinks of my kids abilities. I KNOW my kids abilities and they are all just FINE, thank you. The whole alphabet of them.
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And there you are, the rant of the day is out of the way. Now I can go home to the mate and have a great evening. I think I will call the kids and tell them I love them.

Thank You or Your Welcome?

This is yet another thing I figured out while stepping on 4" nails and being hit by avalanches of odd life experiences.

If no one needed a hand sometimes, none of us could get the warm fuzzy satisfaction of helping someone in need. For every up there is a down.

I was down so much in my young adulthood that I felt like I set the standard for needs. What did I need? I always had a job but they paid for crap. I always needed a better job.

I needed transportation, baby sitters, fresh foods, someone to talk to, a warm meal, a day out, clothes, the use of a phone, a place to do laundry free, (besides the tub and the clothes line), an education, a warm winter coat and boots, a guitar, help with remodeling and up keep, a mechanic that worked cheap, (once I traded a dining room set of oak for having my car fixed), more money, a place to sleep, care while I was ill, shelter, an umbrella, a bag to pack my stuff in, (a pair of old jeans split up the inseam, cut the bend out of the crotch and sewed up the other way will work. Put a rope through the belt loops and off you go!), school clothes and supplies, time to think and a place to sit while I did, a doctor or shrink I could afford, a car, a shower, an extra hand, some one to talk to while I worked, a cup of coffee, a pound of coffee, my hair styled (it never has been, I just trim the ends), a new dress, shoes, an outfit for a funeral or wedding, comforting, consoling, counseling, furniture, dishes, silverware, pots and pans, bedding, towels, diapers, a pot to piss in.

Now that I think about it almost everything you need for yourself, your kids, your house and to get around I have needed at one time or another. Like the night the house burned down; it's just all gone.

I did my best. I was frugal, shopped used stores and yard sales first for everything, I walked everywhere for years. When the kids came I just got a little red wagon and took them, too. I wasn't a layabout. I worked hard and sometimes had two jobs to try and make ends meet. It just seemed like I would get things almost under control and it would all blow up on me.

I finally realized I was on the "Thank you" side of life. People I was around had the opportunity to be on the "Your Welcome" side of living. I heard, "Pass it on," and "Pass it forward" and "just do it for someone else when you can," so many times - if phrases were trees there would be a forest too thick to walk through in my yard. Each time I could only bless the giver and say my most sincere "THANK YOU!"

When I figured this out I realized that, even though I was NOT functioning at a level society might expect of me, I was fulfilling a necessary and valid function in society. I was the "needy";The beggar at the gates; A necessity for Good Samaratins, Good Do-bies, Boy and Girl Scouts, those seeking to better their karma and philanthropists.

There can be no giver if there is no receiver. I could be a "warm, fuzzy, happy feeling for someone almost everyday.

You could also demonstrate your heartlessness for the plight of others. It made me feel like a counter weight on the scale for good and bad. I didn't measure anyone! Not my job! But others could measure them by their treatment of me. Sort of a social scale of helping others or doing unto others.

In this idea I found a small measure of comfort. Someone had to be the needy so others could be the helpers. I had a purpose in the grand scheme of life.

Since I have been with the mate things began to look up for me. I was sending some money to a charity one day when I realized that I had been on the "Your Welcome" side of life for awhile. We help our families, friends, neighbors, and those on the side of the road without discussion. It's just something we both do most of the time without thinking about it. A few dollars here, a hand with moving there, a bag of garden produce, a book, a gift, whatever.

I took a minute that day to mention to the powers that might be that I was glad to understand how much the little we could do for someone in need could mean. It didn't mean I was glad I lived on a budget so tight that I only had 2.00 a month for a coke and a game of pool but that I appreciated truely understanding the importance of helping others.

Giving someone a hand is not just being nice, it's teaching others the value of giving. It gives the wheel of fortune a little more to spread around. It creates a positive circle of kindness that only begins with the act of giving and continues to grow with each reciever that learns to share the wealth they have been given.

Each person we help that goes on to help others sends a part of us into the future, the best part, our love for each other. So invest in the future, be kind to someone today, give a friend a hand, give a stranger a hand and if some one gives you a helping hand remember to pass it on.

Another Soldier's Note

You should go here and read this. At least click the second link. It's a note from one soldier that just visited Walter Reed to see another soldier, a friend of his.

The whole blog is a good read but right now the soldier's wife is keeping it up as he got nailed by a home made explosive device in an ambush in Baghdad and is just beginning to get around. He got hurt the same day our girl did. He has lost fingers, was burned and has begun skin grafts and is in a lot of pain.

They are having a card shower for the wounded man to help keep his spirits up. I urge you to send him a card, especially one with a joke included! He needs the humor. Their goal it to fill his post office box to the rim. I am sending this as an email, please feel free to do the same. Let's show this man someone appreciates the sacrifice he has made. Even if we don't agree with the war he is our soldier and we CARE!

CPT Charles W. Ziegenfuss
PO Box 59051
Washington, DC 20012

Why bad things happen to you

I used to have things pretty rough. In my younger years it seemed like every time I took a step forward an avalanche knocked me three miles back. I couldn't figure out WHY? I thought I was doing the right things and taking the right actions to become more self sufficient but I kept getting knocked to the ground.

In time, I developed some theories to cover this. One is the "Thank you, Your Welcome" theory and one is the "Learning to help others through Hard times" theory. Today I am covering the Hard times topic.

Some people can put themselves in another's place well enough to know what they really feel. Some can't. Then there are shared experiences that most people can relate to easily, chicken pox, embarrasment, first dates, learning to ride a bike, things that most kids did and you understand from experience.

So why do bad things happen to you? Someday you are going to meet someone in need of aide, comfort or advice. You will find some experience that may have seemed strange to you at the time, almost exactly fits the situation this person is in. You will have the understanding of where they are emotionally and the advantage of knowing how you solved the problem to help them deal with their current problem.

I call it the "I stepped on a 4" nail." theory of communication. You are talking to someone and they say, "and THEN I stepped on a nail and it went right through my shoe..."

If you have ever stepped on a nail your body quivers in remembered pain and you immediatly understand what they felt in that situation. You say,"Oh,that really HURTS! I did that! My mom took me right to the ER. What did you do?"

This says you understand and your quest for information (to learn if there is another or better way to deal with the event) encourages further communication on the topic. You both click, grow a little closer because you understand each other a little better and share your ways of dealing with the incident.

If you haven't ever stepped on a nail you say, "Wow, that must have hurt!"It shows them you have no concept and usually the subject changes.

If you can take the pain from a similar experience, apply it to your foot and relate to what they just told you, then you grimace and say,"That must have hurt worse than the time I feel off my bike and my hand came down on apiece of glass! I had to pull it out before I could ride home. What did you do?"

This is putting yourself in their place, comprehending what they feel even though you haven't done the same thing and seeking further information on how the situation was dealt with by them. More communication and a click between you.

If you have never hurt yourself, you CAN NOT truely relate to how the other person felt. Truth. It means you can't help others through the maze of hard life experiences very well.

Ergo - the more of life's good and bad you experience the better you can relate to more people and their joys or problems.

(This is why I wonder how come Americans vote in silver spoon babies - that can't know the meaning of budget, conserve, recycle, reuse, rebuild - to run the country.)

One of the things I do when I am in the middle of a mess, like a flat tire on a dark road on a rainy night with no jack, is remind myself that "This is going to be a great story, later."

(By the way, creep the car around until the flat is over the edge of a ditch. Chock the wheels with a few rocks, crawl down in the ditch, remove the flat, put the lug nuts in your pocket, shove it up the hill, crawl up behind it, get the spare, slide it down carefully, climb down behind it, put it on CAREFULLY, just snug the nuts finger tight. Get back in the car, pull it back on the road, tighten the nuts, load the flat in the trunk, dry off on your car seat cover and head for home. )

Wow, It's Thursday

Only one more day and I am back to the weekend. I really want a couple bottles of cheap wine to get tipsy on. Then I'll drag out the gutiar and annoy the neighbors with antique country music. I feel it coming on, like the storms of summer. I don't drink much. I can, I just don't anymore. But once in a while, it's like a cart wheel, you just have to see if you can still do one.

You all have to comment today, LURKERS! Tell me I done good!

I rode the bike 2 and one half miles last night and only took three rest stops! I may have had to rest but I went the distance! YAAAY MEE!

I get so burnt out in the heat, no air in the office, and I bloat up so big it hurts to type. Then I go out to the unshaded parking area and hop into the white truck that has been locked and closed all day and shoot the 15 miles home wiping the steam off my sunglasses and the sweat out of my eyes all the way. Even with the windows all the way down, if it's 90 degrees, there is nothing but hot air to circulate. When I get home I just pass out on the couch.

The mate kept me cool by coaxing the little beloved air conditioner into continuing to run for one more day. He woke me for dinner and we had plans for a movie at 9:00. So at 8:30 he says, "Wanna go for a bike ride?"

And I do, REALLY! It's cooled off 5 or 6 degrees and I have rested up plenty. So I go find my mocs, tie back my hair, grab a hat with a good sweat band in it and trudge out to the garage to get the bikes out.

I look wistfully at the GL1000, the POWERED bike as I wheel my little 3 speed out. I have a basket, a water holder (courtesy of the mate!) and a diamond handle bar insert mirror that works really well to send morse code to the cars behind me in the dusk. "Flash don't Flash hit Flash me Flash bicycle Flash here Flash." I will be getting the horn on for the rotten little rug rats doing circles around me on their 19" training wheeled OCC bikes. They are the same nasty kids that show me up at the roller rink. I hates 'em.

I lead out and the mate wheels out behind me. As my offical grumpy coach that is his correct position, beating, begging and encouraging me from the rear. (He also likes the view, I am not tricked!)

Everything is uphill from the house so I take the short way, only 1 block to the black top, route. We slow down at the stop sign but I don't dare stop because the right turn is going to be another uphill and I will never make it if I stop. I crest the hill and coast the half block to the stop sign. This one can't be ignored, too much traffic. I pull way to the right as a car has come up behind us. The mate is right there in my mirror. The car pulls away and we make another right, heading for the creek.

The creek is my reward for riding more than 8 blocks. I grew up on an old mill pond and we swam in the creek that ran on other side of the dam. We had Tarzan vines, snakes, bloodsuckers, a dog that chased snakes, a salt shaker to remove the bloodsuckers and one year we hung a rope to swing and drop from. It was dark and cool on the hottest days and a daily joy to all of us.

The creek we are riding toward is a different one. I'm old now and don't know if I can get down the bank to wade in safely. The first time we made it this far there were three kids bombing off the bridge into the 4 feet of water below. Good thing they were short.

I had to keep stopping myself from saying, "You are going to BREAK your NECKS!" and "Does your Mom know you are down here?" My "auto replay mom-isms" are hard wired. I know CPR, so why spoil their fun? I was just jealous. If I lofted my full sized frame over that railing and curled up for a bomb not only would I hit bottom, dislocate my steel hip and leave a dent but the level of the creek would go down two inchs for it's whole length. Getting old sucks.

I still enjoy listening to the water burble over the rocks and logs, looking for turtles and fish, feeling the heat being held back by the coolness of the running water and just being one with the creek. I especially enjoy sharing it with the mate. We did 80 percent of our teen mating rituals by, fishing or in some type of water, including HOT! Standing there with him leaning on the rail beside me raises my libido and makes me nostalgic.

Sorry, side railed again, by love. Can you tell I love water and the mate?

So we headed toward the creek. The Grumpy Coach has this delusion that it is down hill both ways to the creek and back to town. I enjoy debating this with him but it smacks of the time Mom had been driving through the mountains for 20 hours in Maine and couldn't tell if she was going up or down hill because of the thin air. This is bad if you are in a 6 cylinder box pulling a ton and a half of furniture behind you in a trailer. She kept speeding up on the down hills.

He has no excuse for trying to convince me that we live where gravity and other natural laws are suspended except to encourage me to ride further out each day on the pretext that going back will be just as easy as going out. I refute him by having my legs and breathing burn out on the return EVERY TIME but he insists I am mistaken.

I put the bike in second gear and feel like I'm still spinning so I get it into third and continue pedaling. I hate third because when I drop back to one sometimes there is nothing there. I have to shift back up and down again to get the gear to change. I put it back in one as we hit the bridge over the creek.

We had a quiet rest stop, no kids this time. I got all gooshy inside thinking of the mate when we were teens. Yum! Then I notice his strong, male arm leaning by mine and start think of getting the mate home! But I get a wild hair and instead of heading back for town I went for the next crossroad.

One of my biggest fears when I'm exercising is that the stupid heart will clog up and quit on me again. (My other fear, anywhere on the road, is skunks. Who will help you THEN? must remember to ask) I am already too warm and may have bitten off more than I can swallow but I won't quit now. I make the corner, warn the mate I'm U turning, check for traffic and head back for the creek where we stop again.

A new view and a few minutes resting till my breathing slows and I'm ready for the hard part of the ride. We start back for town. As I don't condone stealing, I will just report the conversation without sock puppets.

"This is NOT down hill!", I complain.

The mate, defending his delusion, says, "It is TOO!"

"Not!!"

"Is," he claims, "look at the side of the road!"

I look over and holler over my shoulder, "Are those sand cherries?"

Taken off guard by the sudden change of subject he checks to make sure it's still me and not an alien on the bike. He's not used to me giving up before at least three repeats of Not! He figures it's the hormones or something and answers, "I don't know."

I make a mental note to ask the sis, she has sand cherry bushes and push the pedal one more time. I am half way up the last hill before the turn and the next half block hill. I can't breathe and my heart is pounding. "Stopping!" I holler over my shoulder.

"You can make it!" Grumpy Coach shouts.

"Can't!" I gasp. I stop on the side of the road and lean the bike over to half stand.

He pulls up behind me and says, "This is the furthest you've been, you're doing Great! Just a little further!" (in case you didn't notice, he's not a very grumpy coach at all)

I get my wind back and my legs stop burning in about 3 minutes so I bounce the bike upright and it staggers on the uphill launch but I make it to the second turn of the second pedal and get rolling only to have to pull in at the corner to let a car pass us.

There I stand and eye the one hill between me and home. I spin the pedals around and launch again, cross the road and am about two thirds of the way up when 4 little kids and a Mom approach the road on my side to cross. They look at me and I just KNOW they are going to step into the road. "Warning, old lady biker with no brakes, can't stop! Look out!"

They laugh at me but wait till we get past them to cross. I would have never have been able to start again if I had to stop there. I would rather have them laugh at me than push the bike up the hill.

I reached the top and hear, "You did it! It's all down hill from here!" I think, "Thank God!" and coast the block to our corner, make a safe left and continue to coast the last block home.

I am not sure how I can find as much to write about on a 2.5 mile ride as DC does for a 50 miler. Maybe it's because it seems like 50 miles to me. If the world is as we perceive it perhaps it was 50 miles for me!

I didn't get this posted on Thursday because I have been busy thinking other thoughts. They follow.

I have working on the soldier blog, too. It's not forgotten but there are so many links and so much info I want to include it's taking longer than I had planned.

I need to get back to my herstory blog, too. While my young friend is pretty patient and I think has decided not to leave home just yet I want to get that moving along. So if things get a little slow here be patient with me.

Call from the Soldier

The mate just called. He heard from the soldier today.

Jewel is already trying to walk some, she says. She is still waiting for her stuff from Iraq to catch up with her. Her SO should be here in two weeks and she will still have a week of leave left to spend with him.

It looks like she will end up on a desk job here in the states for the rest of her tour. I can't say I am sorry. She did her duty.

We are talking about making another trip down, both of us this time, to visit. There isn't really any need to at this point except I want the girl to know we appreciate her and every soldier that is doing their duty. I might make her some cookies and send a box to her unit that is still over there.

Will you be my friend?

So you got the "let's just be friends" letter and now you just quit seeing the girl at all. Well, THAT is original!

For those males that totally don't get the friend letter - please consider the fact that it is, in fact, true words - read, comprehend.

I am not ready for a committed relationship.

I needed to learn more about myself before I add anyone else to the mix.

There were some painful problems the last time I did this and I don't want to repeat them.

I don't know you well enough to explain what I just went through.

I can't deal with the pressure and responsibility of another persons feelings right now.

I really like you, you are a great guy. Can we just be friends for now?


Unless it says "I don't think there is any long term future for us." or "I don't want to ever see you again." or "GET LOST!" the door is still open a crack. She means it, she would like to be friends with you.

I have a friend, a real person, who can't manage a friendship with a woman - ever. The minute this guy goes on a date and the girl doesn't pull a knife on him, he's in love.

He sends flowers, he buys them a helmet so they can ride on the back of his bike with him, he shows up right after work every day to see if she wants to do something or needs a hand with chores. He stops on his way to work to see if she thought of anything overnight that she needs or wants to plan. If you look up glom in the dictionary, yes, it's his photo.

He is mentally incapable of being friends with a single woman. He and I are great friends because I am already taken. And he's a great guy! But he gloms to the point of scaring a woman in under 30 days.

If his current girl goes to a family reunion with out inviting him after only going out for two weeks, he thinks she hates him. If she says she's going with some friends to a baby shower and doesn't ask him he is devastated. The hurt is HUGE to him. And no, I don't grok why he is like this. It's just the facts.

He gets the friend routine about 10 days into every relationship. The women can't deal with "Instant commitment" and ask him to be their friend. He dives into a black depression and won't come out of it for weeks. If he COULD just be a friend long enough to build more than a passing accquaintence with even ONE of these women he might be married happily now. He can't.

Then there's the other guy, girls crawling all OVER him and he never does a thing except look cool hanging out with them. There is a constant turnover of females dating him. Never just one special one.

He doesn't make conversation, he says things like, "I'm hungry." or "I want a beer.", no invitation implied. He doesn't call, no flowers, not even a candy bar and the girls all chase him down. He never calls, never asks a girl out. Either she calls him or he "won't care" enough to call her.

He never risks rejection. He never invests any of himself in any one woman. I call him an "everready". You don't have something to do and it's Friday night? Call him. But don't plan on anything meaningful, he just doesn't have it in him to risk any pain. He's a good friend to me and the mate because we don't threaten his safe isolation. He's not mate material.

These are the two extremes. There are some real lulu's in the mid ranges

If you guys would just understand that the last mate we had -

chased us out of the house naked one night with a butcher knife and we had to drive to the cops that way
took our car to go out drinking and wreaked it,
dated our best friend behind our back,
cheated on us with another man,
dressed in our nighty set and nylons with a wig we had never seen in the 9 months we were together, waited up for us to get out of work and asked us to tie him up and whip him,
took all the money out of our purse and went on a binge leaving us with nothing for the rent and groceries,
told us he was out with his brother but was really up at the strip joint and you find out because your mom saw his car there.
bought us a ring, proposed on his knees and then left town a week later without saying goodbye
lived in sweet harmony with us for 3 months then went on a rant about all the things he hated about us, slammed out and sent a moving company for his stuff.
knew we were in a band when he met us and became blindingly jealous of the guys in the band,
saw us drink out of the milk jug and threw our clothes in the street ranting about germs,
lived, worked and traveled with us for 9 months then says he's mormon and will only marry a virgin.

I mean, really, guys! This stuff takes time to get over and work out. To put the fear of yet another failure behind you far enough to try again with yet another man takes finding your faith that there is one man that will like you as you are before coffee and makeup in the morning.; contribute energy to chores and money to the household; never hit you; never run you down to others; enjoy the same sports, food, movies and music or at least tolerate them; have similar beliefs on religion, child rearing, politics, war, finances and ghosts; love you. And then he has to be able to make you feel like a queen in and out of bed.

But a friend? A guy I can ask to the dance and know we will get along with no dramatics. Someone who might remember my birthday, drop me an email about a joke he heard to make me smile or join me at dinner once in a while so I don't have to eat alone is really hard to find. A person who not only notices what I enjoy but remembers it and provides it now and then. Some one I can say, ' Sure, come on in" even if I'm in my sweats and curlers.....

And after some time as friends you find trust begins to build. You know where you stand with each other. You learn the limits and horizons of your friendship. You appreciate each others willingness to like yourselves inspite of your every and most black moods.

Some day a touch will say a thousand paragraphs between you without a word. You just look at each other and smile. Then affection grows. You have both been there for each other, every time. You can rely on each other. Then you can't imagine a time without them in your life.

A friend is someone you;
care about, someone that cares about you.
want to make happy, and likewise can make you happy too.
enjoy sharing with and likewise shares with you.
enjoy the company of and likewise likes spending time with you
can ask for help and doesn't expect a return.
are willing to trust and who trusts you
can forgive even though they let you down because they'd do the same for you.

What EVER made you think you could love someone for the long haul without being friends first?

Try it. I married my best friend.

Much ado about Mulching

Mulching.

You live and learn. I first started using mulch in the garden beds about 10 years ago. I used a layer of used carpet between the rows in the garden, ugly but really worked well, and some donated wood chips in the flower beds looked nice and reduced watering, too. It cut down on the weeding enough to make me want to do it again.

When we started the garden in the new house the budget was tight. I realized I couldn't afford much mulch. I thought I would get really smart and use lawn clippings and leaves to mulch with, they were free. I didn't realize that the mulch wouldn't get hot enough to kill the seeds from the weeds that are everywhere in our yard.

So I basically seeded weeds in all my garden areas then got too ragged with arthritis to tend to them. Then the hip surgury. Then the heart attack. Three or more years of seeded weeds took over everything. The results has been messing with me all year but I'm gaining on it!

This weekend we decided we had saved enough money to spring for some mulch. The mate and I got up Saturday and rolled off for our first square yard. The little S-10 did a great job hauling it home.

It was hot out this weekend so we waited till late in the day to spread the mulch. About 5:30 we started shoveling, weeding, shoveling, and raking. It only covered about half the first area we were trying to protect.

We went back for another load on Sunday morning. It sat there till almost 7:00 pm as it was over 90 degrees out there. We were moving right along and making good time when I hit a bunch of ground bees, wasps, hornets or whatever you want to call them. I was reaching for a stubborn bit of crabgrass to yank it's nasty little roots out when I got stung. I yelped, jumped backwards, hollered "get back!" to the mate as he told me the same all before my eyes had taken in the fact that there were 20 or thirty bees in a holding pattern over the corner of the house.

I booked inside, washed it with baking soda, sprayed it with Benedryl spray and took an allergy pill of the same. The mate watched to make sure I got it doctored properly and I thought I got the stinger out so we went back out to finish up.

The bees had calmed down and things were back on track when a fat little grey mousie hopped out of the mulch and ran down the wall of the house. Now, mice and other rodents are just about the only thing that make me react like a "typical" girl. I can handle snakes, spiders are no problem, but show me a tiny mouse - I'm on the highest accessable piece of furniture or handy human shoulders I can find.

So I screech and jump back again. I watched it hopping down the length of the flower bed to disappear in the next big hunk of mulch. GREAT!

I have one 10 year old long haired tortoise shell tiger that believes the entire planet was built to display his royal, kingly beauty to it's best advantage. We named him Timone to remind him he is "meerly a cat" but it doesn't seem to work. He believes he exists to allow humans to find joy in his presence and worshiping him. Approached with a friendly offer of petting or sacrifices of tender meats and cheese, he will allow you to actually touch his royal self for your pleasure. If you are especially reverent he will denign to purr for you. He weighs about 14 pounds. He's a great hood ornament, not much for mice. He will hunt under bait at the bird feeder and I have seen him with the occasional kill of one kind and another but he's really too royal now to hunt. There was no point in bothering him to catch the little nasty.

We just picked up a young female a christmas or two ago hoping to get a better mouser. She is a beautiful black short hair with a gray under fur named Mystique. Quiet, fast, lean and smart, we had great hopes for her. She does stalk, lurk and hunt. She will hunt for hours. That's the good news.

The bad news is she has a monkey on her back. She's a catnip junkie. She mostly hunts new stands of "bud" and what I call "rug aliens". These are the little, invisible aliens that are no more than 2" high who live under the throw rugs.

After scoring a new plant and mauling it into submission she lurks by the throw rugs until an alien peeks at her. She proceeds to totally destroy his current hiding place, ripping it up and inverting it while carefully leaving one corner curled under for us to trip over. Then she lurks at a new rug. With no rug in the flower bed fetching her to catch the mouse was fairly pointless.

I have seen her catch mice. I just think they were accidently hanging out under the rug with the aliens and, being slower, got killed.

So the mate finished the mulch on the side of the house and I went to mulching under my yard swing. He joined me and we finished the second load off under the swing tree.

I just want to mention that we had home grown peas and venison steaks for dinner. I steamed the peas and the mate grilled the steaks and it was sooooo good! It takes longer to peal peas than it does to cook and eat dinner but was SO worth it!

He is off to get a third load today. For Fun tonight I get to pull poison ivy and mulch Warf's garden. I will get some photos up soon.

On a Roll

Sorry to leave you hanging so long. I just "up an' R U N N O F T."

I have not taken a day off that was for FUN since August last year. I have had to use vacation times for being ill. That stinks.

The mate was heading up north to spend some time with friends we haven't seen for a while and I just hollered, "Me go, too!!"

I called in and took two vacation days, packed my stuff and rolled out with the mate on the bikes.

There has been so much going on that I have been sad, angry, frustrated or upset about I have just been freaking OUT! I worked a lot of it out in the garden but I have a burden for the treatment our wounded are getting that isn't going away. Then we were lucky enough to have the eldest grandmale join us Sunday. His mom picked up some family style fast food I ordered and we had an easy picnic. When she left we were ahead one kid.

Now I had a dog sitter so I could roll off worry free.

We had a great time and our pal spent most of it trying to help us fix up my bike. It's got a few little things messing up that really need parts or pieces to fix. I can't tell you how nice it is to have the "A" Team working on my ride. They are real pros!

We did a lot of riding! It was weird weather, hot and stormy looking, but we never got wet. Visited a great little hole in the wall bike shop, went to the motorcycle junk yard, visited with people we knew up there and we just had fun.

I tried to stay right there, in the now. I did fairly well. I just can't keep my mind off Jewel and the other wounded. I wish I lived closer to the hospital.

If you have time on your hands think about visiting the wounded at Walter Reed or Womack Army Medical Center. You can find a Veteran's Hospital near you. Arrange some entertainment, take your scout troops to visit. Wander in with a therapy dog or cat. Hand out a few books, puzzle books, stationairy kits and a book of stamps. Offer to write letters for the ones with no writing hand anymore. Tuck in some candy. Just tell them how your day is going - The day you are free to waste because these soldiers and others like them have sacrificed themselves for your safety.

I promise, this is all going in it's own blog ASAP. I have it started. When it's up I'll add a link. For now, it's busy here today and I have to run.

Jewel is OUT

The soldier girl is out of the hospital! She will be treated on an outpatient standing for a while yet. Jewel is getting around on crutches and is on convalesent leave. She has chosen to stay in NC with friends and house hunt while keeping her appointments with the doctors.

She hopes her fiance will be back in the states on leave in the next week or so. I think she will feel a lot better after he has seen her in person and reassured her he loves her inspite of the scars.

The schrapnel she took is still slowly working it's way to the surface and she will be dealing with the mess that causes for weeks yet.

She will be fine, in the long run.

I continue to work on the new site and will post it here for you when it's up.

To a quiet Fourth

The sherriff's department is cruising Tiny today. I guess they have had several domestic incidents, a drunk and disorderly and some noise complaints. That's a lot for our little burg.

I'm glad to have them. Last year, a month before the fourth of July, we had kids throwing fire crackers at our dogs in their pen. Talk about ANGRY! And the part that REALLY made me upset is that if the dog went over the fence to defend itself and bit one of the kids I would have to put the dog down. And the nasty, ill trained, mean, kid would get to live.

I guess my tour of the parents houses and the neighbors with dogs must have been sufficent. No fireworks anywhere near my yard this year.

There are no fireworks for the soldier today. Her Dad, step mom, Grampa and Step Grama left for home early this am. They had to get stepmom back for work. (NOTE: any employers out there that would care to try and JUSTIFY NOT giving family emergency leave to the step parent of a wounded Vet are welcome to TRY.)

Because, when Jewel landed at NC, she was no longer considered to be seriously injured the family could NOT be reimbursed for traveling expenses. As a tax payer, I feel this is a just expense and believe our wounded need all the help we can give them. That includes the moral support of having family with you.

I really don't understand why a girl who is covered head to foot with shrapnel wounds, with a gash on her face that required stitches and staples, who has one leg split open from the back base of the knee to the ankle, one leg broken, an arm broken, fractured or with nerve damage, who can't get out of bed without help is considered NOT seriously injured. She only has one properly working limb and that one is covered in shrapnel wounds. Sure, she won't die from her wounds, but this is not serious? Bad call, Doctor.

Tomorrow she will be alone again. She hopes that in ten days or two weeks her fiance will be able to join her from Iraq. They are working on getting him leave for two weeks, then shipping him BACK to Iraq to finish the last 4-6 weeks of his tour of duty.

I know the people on base have been especially wonderful to her. We can't express how much we appreciate all their help. I just don't think it is the same as having your family there.

On the anniversary of the day we voted to approve the Declaration of Independence, in which the American colonies proclaim their separation from Britain - the government that didn't understand their needs, over taxed them and mandated their religious beliefs - we struggle to understand our current leaders, their spendthrift ways with foreign aid and the penny pinching that won't help a family of an Army soldier be there when they are needed.

Read the Declaration. Think about it.

Enjoy the day, all!

Life goes on

I have been trying to get the gardens reorganized after 4 years of poor health has left them with crab grass as their main plant.

I tore out the weed over run corner by the patio a few weeks ago. I sprayed a weed killer on the mystery weeds and waited. No good. So I did it the hard way.

I ran the roto tiller through it, shoveled until it was higher at the house and lower toward the yard, yanked roots, weed wacked and then hand trimmed the one remaining plant, a lovely holly shrub till it was acceptably shaped.

I wasn't dead but I was drownding in sweat and breathing hard. I raked it out, stuck in some old wooden white fence, put in two hostas and three cardinal flowers, added some iris that I moved from over in the lilacs, tossed in 6 spots with mini iris and siberian iris, whacked out some violets and ground cover from out front then sat in a yard chair to water it in. I was BEAT.

It's nice now but it still needs some gravel and mulch plus a cute steel hanger for a hummie feeder. Will get you a photo later!

Update on Soldier

I sat here the night my mate made it home (Friday) contemplating my blessings. He was asleep in his own bed, home safe, and Jewel was doing well. Her Uncle was there to greet her. Her mother came that same day.

Saturday she got her first bath since the mortor fire hit her. Her Mom did her hair and nails and gave her a good scrubbing. She got to talk to her fiance in Iraq. They are trying to get him back here for her. He has the key to their locker where all her extra clothes and such are stashed. She also needs to know he will still love her with her scars. It's a scary time for her.

Her Dad, step mom, Grampa and step Grama drove down to see her, they should have been there Saturday afternoon. That will complete the roll of family that can get free to go down and see her. The rest will wait till she gets home on leave.

She still had no cast on her broken leg and the mate says her other leg is slashed open all the way down the back of the calf along with the shrapnel wounds. No word on how badly her arm is hurt yet, either.

Waiting for word from one of those still down there on her current situation. I hate waiting.

Wedding Bells or Ding Dongs?

In reply to this post I spewed forth the following thoughts. She is one of an un-engaged couple in a group of friends that have many weddings coming up.

DO NOT let "everyone else is doing it" be your motivation for for bungie jumping or getting married - or anything else for that matter.

Face the fact that your friends are all getting married. Remember they have probably been couples longer than you two have. Even if they haven't it just means they are either more sure of their love than you two are yet or they are making huge mistakes. Then forget it! Don't let it bother you. It's just life, weddings, family reunions and funerals are the big three. Enjoy them together!

Take all the time you want to get to know each other. 3 months is just a drop in the bucket, especially if you are shooting for FOREVER. Vegetables will grow to ripeness in just 90 days. So will annuals, like marigolds. They are only flowers and veggies that die off every year. A tree takes much longer. You want strong roots for your love and it takes shared experiences and communication to put them down. It takes time.

When you are committed but unpapered you both have the mental attitude that you are free to do as you please with very few limits by the partner. This should be the way marriage is but it's difficult to maintain in our strictly puritain society.

Relationships do change when you get married. The way I figured it out was you get the "Now I'm the "Wife/Husband" complexes. This is where you start doing all the things you believe the "Wife/Husband" SHOULD do as defined by your experience, your peers and current social expectations. You go into "I can't do anything without checking with mate first" mode and feel limited or trapped in your choices.

You have to redefine your expectations of each other to suit yourselves and not society. This takes conversation, true verbal intercourse, to reach what you truely expect from each other as far as spending money, going out, stopping on the way home, etc.. You are not a boss and an employee, you are vice-presidents, equals, and your goal is to keep the president happy. That is the Unit, The Love.

Another change is just the roommate conflicts. This is anything the other person does that bothers you having to do with home maintenence and chores. Compromise. If I do the tp it's under, if he does the tp it's over, no griping by other party. If you really care that much about the issue make a point of always doing it yourself. Chores suck but have to be done. Do the nasty ones together, divide the rest by strenght, time available and a need to get it done basis.

You both get a new family to learn about and love. You get the full range from the one you really get along with to the one that makes your teeth hurt from clenching your jaw. This can also include the famous middle man positon between the mate and any family member that doesn't get along as well as you would like so you are always interpreting between them. Remember this is an OUTSIDE influence, not a core relationship issue.

You have both lived on your own and now you are sharing your spaces. I prefer to get a new place and divide it up rather than moving into a mate's place. There is too much previous ownership there and you feel like you don't have any real space of your own. He moved your stuff, you touched his CD's...all seemingly huge violations of solitude and privacy that you don't have anymore. You have to decide where the limits are, sure, get in my purse but stay out of the desk Don't touch my stereo, computer, do help yourself to the money in my wallet.

It's a major transistion to a new universe and if your bond is not strong enough to make you want to work through the changes together then it won't work well at all. It is hard to work this through without several confrontations because you find your self and your mate doing things you NEVER did when you were dating. You used to invite people home for a drink or a movie, but now, if you forget to warn the mate, you might discover she has her mom and her sister over already. They don't mix well with drinking buddies. This creates stress. Maybe it's walking around in your underware. You didn't do that in front of mate before marriage and you find out they think it's a white trash thing to do. More stress. You just have to work these things through.

I always watched football with the guys. Make up, hair do's, kids stories, receipes, that bores me so hanging in the kitchen was no fun. I got married. I tried to do dishes in the kitchen with the women. I would get all freaked out at their teeny, tiny small talk and be screaming inside to see what the score was but felt I HAD to act like a "real" wife. I would be angry because, if the men had helped, we could have all watched the game and so sniped at the mate. He, of course, saw no reason to change "tradition", i.e., men laying around talking about how much they ate and the new quarterback, and the women doing the chores.

My cure - I no longer do dishes when I have company. I watch the game or whatever we are doing. We ALL put the food away and stack or soak the dishes then enjoy the movie or the game together. What it took to reach the cure - 2 marriages. By the third one I knew what the real problem was and implemented the solution before "tradition" got it's hooks into the mate or the kids. The real problem is I resent having to work while others sit on their butts that also enjoyed the fruits of my labor. So I sit on my butt now and there is no guilt or stress. After we all clean up together.

I do not believe the paper is worth printing out two copies of if both people are not committed to putting each other above EVERYTHING ELSE. For me, there is nothing more important than keeping "us" us. The really wonderful thing is that it's the same way for the mate. That is commitment. Two people, one goal. It's what the candle ceremony in many weddings is supposed to be, a symbol of two people forming one unit of love.

If there is a conflict between an event with my parents and one with my mate, the parents lose. Is work stessing the relationship? One of us gets a new job. If he has to move to BFE then I'm packing up to roll. There is NOTHING on this planet worth losing the love and respect of my mate. Not even my big, fat ego.

Someday you will be positive you want to stand in front of your friends and family and tell them that you are bound to another person by love and are joining your lives together. You will say it holding hands, with your eyes on each other and your heads up, proud that the other loves you and proud to tell everyone you love them.

What it does INSIDE you both is make you proud and happy that your partner wants all their friends, family, and the general public to know you are the chosen mate for life. It's not a validation of you as a human. Many single humans have made their lives mean something to the whole world by their actions or talents. And it is not just that you picked each other, people knew that when you dated. It is that you both want to tell your whole worlds that you picked each other FOREVER.

No matter what is in each past or what tomorrow brings, you are together. Think about that. We had step kids to get to know and support, we have had the house burn down, the mate unemployed, me down two years with wrist injuries, ok for 11 years, then a year with arthritis and, just a year later, three bad months with the heart problem. The mate has been ill. There were kids that ran away, kids that got in trouble at school and with the law, family members angry with us or at others in the family, mate unemployed again, car wreaks and break downs, stranded with kids in a snow storm, pets die, parents die, friends die. 20 years of whatever life could toss at us. Will you stay together through these things or cut and run?

Until you can BOTH mean it with all your heart, "I want to stay with you FOREVER, no matter what came before or what comes after", with NO reservations - wait.

More Silencing

Now the military has decided that our soldiers have to register their blogs with their CO's. This effectively removes the anominity that blogging give to all of us. Many of them are just closing their blogs. See this article for more comments.

They can still send email and IM's. Those could be posted to civilian sites.....sort of milblog ghosts or ghost soldier writers.

Pass the idea around.