copyright 1998 diary of a mad handyma'am an anonymous cyberspace diary & property of the mad handyma'am    1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11 12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31

April 6th, 1998

It's been nearly 14 months since Dad has been dead. Mom pointed that one out to me. It wasn't like I had forgotten about it, but I wasn't thinking of it either.

Mom's getting married on the 11th of this month. She met a guy who is a total 360 degrees from Dad. His name is Dave.

Dave is Tall. Dad wasn't. Dave is polite. Dad was spontaneous... which meant, sometimes he was one small step above a rude, disheveled hog. Dave doesn't spit or stick a fork handle in his ear to itch it like Dad would sometimes do. Dave takes Mom to plays and festivals. Dave would never invite you to pull his finger... or, ask you to come out in the garage to burn a joint, or blow fish out of the water with plastic explosives. Dave will probably never get drunk with us either, or target practice. I'd be willing to bet that Dave will never want to jump in the car to chase a fire truck, or call us four-letter words and laugh... or, exhibit other caveman-like behavior. Nope. Not Dave.

Dave will never learn how to dance like James Brown in the garage or anywhere else. But that's OK. One guy like Dad was enough.

And, YES - sometimes it was too much. Still, I miss that goofy guy I called Dad. His head was messed up, his body was in backlash - but he really had a good heart...

I'm glad that my Mom is happy now with Dave. She deserves it. Life with Dad wasn't easy. She really put up with more than I'd recommend anyone tolerate. No doubt there is something there that I learned, as I've also found myself in situations that were difficult while I tried to "hang in there," at a great cost to myself. You know, doing that "good little woman hanging in there trying hard to make it work, waiting for a change" - one that ALWAYS ultimately ends with making a change in herself.

Always...

I hope that Dave and my Mom have a very long and happy relationship. Mom deserves the best! And, I hope that in time, I will grow to love Dave, too.

Or at least, like him VERY, very much...

Today, "Dave" is like Dad2 - the sequel haven't you seen it?

it's playing in my life right now...

- even though the original actor isn't available for the part and even though I'll probably NEVER call him DAD -

April 8th, 1998

Another gray day. Raining, too. Of course, it's because I have the rest of the week off work. Still, I wonder how paranoid I have to be if I considered it to be a cosmic conspiracy...

My brother, his wife and the 2 kids will be here with us tomorrow. Today I was busy cleaning the house and obviously, stole a few minutes away from it to write. But, you'll be proud to know the bathtub is gleaming white and the kitchen floor is clean, too. Even the fuzzy stuff is missing from the fridge...

... and NO, it's not leashed and in the yard with a cute name. It's suffocating in one of those black garbage bags. One of the thin, nearly transparent, cheap ones. One that isn't meant to lock in freshness...

...maybe that means it might break down chemically in a landfill over the next thousand years. But hey, don't accuse me of starting any rumors.

I have to run and finish what I've begun. I accept the fact that work will never be completely done, but I don't have to like that fact at all...

...I have a million projects. By the time I finish this sentence, it could be a million and one. It's certainly a million to one that I will accomplish all of it.

MYGOD! We nearly got 2 dozen chickens... had 'em ordered and everything! Backed out of it because I don't need to acquire more work this year, building a chicken coop is not what I do not need to be doing! There will be a couple of chickens here... so, don't be surprised if they have nice names and are living in the house by fall.

I'm building an addition on the house this year. It's in the planning stages now. I'm building web pages when I can. Getting ready to buy a car I've wanted, and I should have it at the end of the month... a black Mitsubishi Eclipse. I've been weeding around in the flowerbeds, moving mulch, cutting grapevines, trimming along the backyard paths and trying to figure out where to put in a few more wildflower gardens in the yard... and of course, I've been busy cooking in the "Outback Inn" - among other things. Like spring cleaning... aaaaarrrggghhhh.

Is it clear that moss doesn't grow around me??

This woman's work is never done.

April 10th, 1998

Partied hearty last night! The Outback Inn was practically rocking...and the cook was having a heyday (that's me!) Laura and I slept out there, or I should say, passed out there. She had one hell of a hangover between the beer and a few shots of Crown Royal. She forgets not to mix until the next day...

I woke up to some very loud bird singing, right at the crack of dawn. I thanked GOD for my family <which OF COURSE includes Laura!> and got up and visually surveyed the wreckage of our partying and determined it to be extensive. I climbed down the loft ladder, went into the house <where everyone else was sleeping> and returned with breakfast to cook on the woodstove. French Toast in case you were wondering...

I am becoming much too nice, ha ha. My brother and family are staying with Mom tonight... while the clean-up proceeds.

Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a house with a cement floor and a drain in the middle of it. Plastic furniture and walls so you could open the door and the drain and clean up with a leaf blower and a hose...

...unattractive but a breeze to clean.

April 12th, 1998

Happy Easter...!

Mom and Dave are now married! They stopped over today for an untraditional Easter Pizza Festival and, to say goodbye to my brother John & family - and, to show off their newly married glow... which I must say, looked great on them.

They had a ceremony at a small Lutheran church in front of their kids and their respective spouses and significant others. Laura was working the afternoon shift as a traveling nurse and managed to sneak in the church long enough for the service in between her patients. At least she made it. Something that made me   v e r y   happy.

When Mom began to say her vows, I was overcome with emotion for a moment when I heard her voice. I didn't expect it but it happened. It was a surreal moment for me in which I felt myself literally gasp. I don't know how to describe it other than to say I felt such joy that I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Everyone is gone now, but I had a blast while they were here. The house is trashed again and I am too tired to worry about that today. I've got tomorrow off and can do it then...

...for now, the cook needs a break.

April 13th, 1998

Today I spent the day working on the summer home improvement plan. As usual, the plan gets more elaborate as I go along. I am an absolute master at creating work for myself, so this is no surprise at all.

I dream that someday I might have a social life... and, I might not work so hard - but, it isn't going to be this year. I also have visions of travel, but unless I can learn astral projection that won't be happening this year either.

I'm as busy as Martha Stewart. And of course, Martha and I would be great friends if we only had the time...

I just saw the Mars Global Surveyor pictures of the Mars Cydonia region which were recently released by NASA. You know the one that purportedly shows a "face" on the planet that were taken back in 1976 < click here if you don't know what I'm talking about ! >. Anyway, it looks fairly grainy and inconclusive to me... check it out here. I would have thought that they could have got a better shot, a clearer one anyway. No doubt there will be rumblings of another alleged cover-up by NASA by some fringe folks out there over this one, too.

Yet, they apparently have a few more opportunities to get pictures of the Cydonia area tomorrow and, about 10 days later. I hope they are better than the first. I don't know why they didn't send that Pathfinder thing that landed on the planet directly to Cydonia so they could check it out close up...

...BUT NOOOOOO. That might make a little too much sense.

My girlfriend arrived home slightly before 9 tonight from her home Nurse duty. The phone rang. It was the office. She was redirected to a patient across town. She had to pick up a urine sample and drop it off at the lab. Of course, that pissed her off.

You never really know. YOU could be driving down the street and pass right by some piss in transportation...

Yesterday, I received a phone call in the afternoon at work from my one and only sister. Her voice was incredibly and unusually calm. I didn't hear the normal background noise of the day care kids she keeps along with two of her own.

After exchanging general pleasantries, she told me that she was going to ask her husband for a divorce. When? I asked, tonight was her reply.

So, what happened? I asked, nothing really, no new event that triggered it; it's basically everything put together and I realize that I can't stay with him for the kids sake like this.

After listening, I told her that I'd wondered how long she'd put up with this guy's shit. I guess this is how long.

Yet, I am concerned that this could very well be the start of some new shit. WHY? From what I've seen myself and heard from my sis, he isn't mentally stable. Although I'm not a doctor, but comparable to the late Tammy Wynette; I stand by my diagnosis.

How can I describe him to you sight unseen? My direct observations: Hmmmm... He's not a physically imposing presence. He's balding fast, wears wire rimmed glasses and has a nose that looked more like a beak to me once when I was stoned around him. He's prone to smile, only occasionally, and after several beers. He is extremely moody and brooding despite the absence of monthly hormones. Being around him is equivalent to walking on eggshells... since you never knew what mood he had on. He was prone to pitching public fits. Something I don't care to be around at all. And , get this - last summer he shit in his pants at a family gathering, apparently he thought he just had to fart. Imagine that! Filled up a pair of light blue Levi's... well OK, I could be exaggerating - but when you saw him from behind it looks like someone had used his ass for a coffee cup holder. There was a java colored half circle on the ass of his pants.

I remember meeting him. I thought, who's this geek? without saying a word. Just thinking it you know. So now you know you aren't the only one with thoughts that aren't nice. But HEY, I thought she was only dating him. I didn't know she would marry him. But she did.

Honestly though, whatever my pretty little sister saw in him from the start, it evaded me entirely. And I did what all good big sisters do. I have supported her decisions without a nay saying word. That's what support is, isn't it? Supporting whatever decision someone else makes. She didn't need my 2 cents from my observational standpoint. She was in love. And granted, when you are in love, it may not be the best time to make decisions at all; but don't you dare try telling anyone that. Not even me...

My sister has two beautiful children -one of each- with him, and a son from her first husband. All was not lost between them. She is genuinely freaked when she thinks about having 2 divorces and starting over with 3 children. She feels like a failure... which in my eyes, she most certainly is not. Plus, she's got a long way to go if she's trying to beat Liz Taylor's record list of husbands.

Divorce sucks, but it happens. She has her reasons, and it's her decision as well as her life. Still. I can't help but worry about her and the kids. He's already threatened suicide on more than one occasion. That's a tough one to hear 14 months and a handful of days since your Father committed suicide. It makes it all the more cruel. The major difference here being that Dad never once threatened to kill himself. Hearing those words takes us back to the numbness of that reality.

If he did commit suicide, she can't hold herself responsible for his actions. He can't use suicide as a threat of blackmail to keep her, or for that matter, any other manipulation tactic such as guilt - even though he might try. What concerns me beyond words is that it seems that you read about, or hear about, people taking the whole family down with ‘em. Quite uncomfortably often.

He has hit her in the past I didn't like it then and I don't like it now According to my sister, he hasn't hit her in several years now. He allegedly got "past" his problem when he was arrested and put on probation for hitting his own MOTHER in the driveway of their home! And, YES he was married to my sister then, too. Maybe now you are getting an idea of WHY I am so uncomfortable with this. As far as I am concerned, any ADULT who can hit their own Mother has an immense fucking problem.

Oh yeah, when she told him she wanted a divorce last night he accused her of having a boyfriend. Like she has time with daycare and 3 kids... right? And, when I spoke to her this afternoon, he had called her several times: alternating between accusing her of the boyfriend thing again, and claiming his love for her.

On the other hand - he has screwed around on her in when she was 8 months pregnant with his first child. A child who will be turning 4 very soon...

Oh, by the way - other than this shit, I am doing fine. Despite being tired from a 10 hour day at the office...

OHMYGOD! In reading the last, most colorful entry to date, I became highly annoyed by the color clashing. I decided to leave that way, against my sensibilities and impulses, if only to grandstand my apparent irritation as I wrote.

Big D(ivorce) UPDATE: My sister's husband has apparently agreed to move out by this weekend. And, of course he verbally assaulted her again last night. He told her that "nobody will want ever her because she has 3 kids," and other fascinating but vile remarks along a similar vein.

What an idiot. Especially for screaming hateful things like this in front of the children. That can be pretty scary when you're a kid.

I've never wanted to be a man, but - if I could be for one day, the first thing I'd do is go over there and kick his ass. At least, until he begged for mercy...

It will be difficult for her with 3 kids alone. She knows that. Anybody would know that. Yet, as it is, she did everything at home there was to do, with minimal assistance from him. She practically had to light a fire under his ass to get him to move. I think he's truly a crotchety old man trapped in a young man's body.

Before I knew about the divorce, I had a conversation with my sis about our childhood. And, we talked about it again last weekend when my brother came into town. Like everyone else, we had our share of dysfunction growing up. We learned early to endure many things in order to cope and survive. As children we had no choice, but as adults we do have choices... and this is where our bad judgement enters the picture. Both she and I have made some bad choices. Of course we didn't think so at the time - because we were less than rational. We did that silly little thing many of us do. We are guilty of using our hearts and not our heads... oh, how human we are. So human I could puke.

My sister deserves a PARTNER. Not only someone to sleep with when the mood arises. She also deserves RESPECT. Not someone bent on controlling or putting her down. Someone she can TALK with. Not someone to scream at her. Someone who truly LOVES her. Not someone who says the words and acts the opposite... but, someone she can TRUST.

I don't know about you, but I have many, many questions to ask God when I get there.

As typical, Saturday morning comes around and I can't sleep in. The birds outside seem to be chirping louder than they ordinarily do. Aviary based scheme? I doubt it... too much on my mind? Probable culprit...

Mark today down as the first day I cut the grass. I'll be on the lawn tractor, bouncing around my lower vertebrae by 2 in the afternoon. The chore takes about 3 hours, providing you do a good job. About 2 hours if you put the tractor in 4th gear and settle for a ragged trim effect.

The ragged trim effect seems to occur starting at the end of July. This is when the lawn demands you devote a day of every week to it. It doesn't care if it fits in to your plans. It is at this time that the gorgeous lawn turns into nothing more than the fucking grass...

Today being the first cut, incredible care will be taken. Slow and methodically cut, it becomes an inviting carpet. I will notice the aroma of fresh cut grass and breathe it in with a smile. And think about how odd it is that my sense of smell learns to block it out after a few cuttings.

Laura's nieces are coming over today. One is 8 and the other will soon be 6. They'll be here by noon. By 5, we'll be preparing for company and doing the BBQ thing, and of course, hanging out in the Outback Inn - where the greater extent of my socialization occurs... for now.

The 1998 house addition project planned for the rear of the house consists of a 12x12 foot mudroom and, a 16x20 foot rec room offset from that. The septic field has to be replaced, a job for local professionals. Hopefully, this will all be pulled off somehow, both physically and financially. This is the last summer in a row anyway that I want to be caught up in a huge, all consuming project like this. I'd really like to spend some time on other creative pursuits. Creative things I know nothing of today. Plus, I'd like to spend my money on other things, too. Frivolous stuff for change... like an irresponsible trip to Paris at Christmas, or a week-long rental of a Hummer... anything that doesn't require calculation, drafting or power tools.

Home renovation projects are like being on the tether program. It doesn't get done if you don't make the effort and you don't stay home and do it. You do have to be careful to retain your ability have fun though... and remember that all of those home remodeling shows that make everything look so easy and logical - keep in mind the editing room floor. The unwanted clips documenting minor injuries and foul language...

Yes indeed, the grass has been cut. And once again, things didn't go as planned. The tractor started up no problem. It didn't have much gas, maybe a quarter of a tank, but I impatiently headed out anyway. It was early, too. 2 full hours prior to my intended start, which made it noon. I manage to get a portion of the yard outlined before smelling burnt rubber and realizing that the belt had broke.

Shit. Another problem. Another thing breaking down in need of a fix. The joys of tractor ownership.

Lucky for me, I had enough forethought to have purchased a belt previously. I felt unusually competent. Then I noticed the mower deck was hanging lopsided. Predictably, I was the mad handyma'am. But this time, I didn't have my tools in a group. And, I knew nothing about the mower deck, or the belt. Still, I did have the belt.

There must have been more important issues last fall than cleaning up the tractor before hibernation. I tried to inspect the area and managed to get past the dirt clumps enough to verify that nothing looked familiar. But first, it needed to be cleaned up.

Couldn't find the nozzle for the hose. I ended up doing the my finger is a nozzle trick, not the preferred method since it can't be turned off. All the resulting water pooled in the path leading up to the door. Another smart maneuver.

Without giving you the entire play-by-play of the tractor repair, and preceded by my search and round-up of tools, ...let us skip to the part where it's fixed, and you're mowing for three hours. Can you hear the drone of the tractor in your temples? Can you feel the vibratory buzz in your hands on the wheel? Can you drive one handed and whisk away kamikaze bugs that periodically dive straight at your face?

... I thought this ride would never end.

With the tractor hosed down, I decided to chop wood. It was time to get the woodstove going and the pieces I had were much too large to start the fire and, to keep it at the right temperature to cook. The oak cracking with the whack of the axe sent the dogs into hiding; scaredy dogs anyway. I chopped a wheel barrel full, packed it in the Outback Inn and started a fire that is still going as I type the next day in the early afternoon.

The cook made chicken burritos last night. Chicken burritos that are now packed in a casserole dish waiting to be baked in the oven later today, to be served ladled with gravy. If I sit here and think about it long enough, I can probably make my stomach growl right now.

And yeah, we slept in the Outback Inn again last night. When Laura woke up this morning, she went to the house for something and, lo and behold, I'm laying there and I see a spider crawling on the wall. Right on the 2x4 not far from my head. And not just any spider mind you, it was a baby wolf spider. The ones that get big and hairy. Right away I wonder just where that spider was all night long. I hate that.

Faithfully as of late, I come in here and write. To my secret hideout I immerse myself. Where I decide that - some secrets are very good.

Then, I move on to a little afternoon surfing session...

April 20th, 1998

Time again for the big D update: Evidently, he has decided he will not move. He's tried everything he can think of to get her to change her mind. She seems to be standing firm on her decision, despite his crying and pleading. It looks like she will be moving out with the kids as soon as she can get the money to file for the divorce.

A good friend of hers has a house that is vacant. Sis stopped over with the youngest in tow on Saturday after she got a tour of the place. She seemed upbeat and excited about the new place, especially since her friend said she could have it for a measly 200 bucks a month - WITH an option to buy.

She can do her day care there. It's not far from where she is now and it's sort of got a solid wood fenced-in yard. I say sort-of because as it was described to me with a smirk, "part of it is falling down and, part of it is missing entirely." Aha! It's another job for the handyma'am! There are clearly advantages to being my sister. Her generous friend also told her that anything she spends on fixing it up can be deducted from the rent.

Now, I dare anybody to try and convince me there isn't a God! I count some things as closer to being miracles than I'd chalk them up to implicating ordinary lucky charms. There have been times in my life when God seemed to be showing me my way - how could I ever ignore that? The fact is, I've tried ignoring it. I've tried ignoring it because it wasn't what I wanted to hear. It didn't go along with MY plan. Then I learn that MY plan isn't always what God has planned for me...

OH YEAH, I almost forgot to tell you! Another event occurred Saturday when my sister was over. Laura was outside grilling chicken and talking to our newlywed friends. My sister and I were in the Outback Inn with her 15 month old daughter Karly. Laura's nieces were running in and out, playing hard knowing their Dad was on the way to get them. It wasn't long and their Dad was walking in the backyard. And who comes around the corner? Laura's mom.

She made the second visit. Of course, I was surprised. Laura's youngest niece will be turning six soon. It was three days after she was born that Laura and I met. Her Mom had one hell of a shiner. One of those great big black looking bruises that go halfway down your cheek. She said it was getting better, it had encompassed her eyebrow just days ago. Upon closer inspection, I noticed how it matched the colors in her shirt. I accused her of trying to color coordinate her clothes to her injury... she hugged me, and I hugged her back.

So now you're wondering HOW she got the shiner. She said she got it coming off the elevator at a local hospital. There were all of these tall glass windows and said she walked right into them thinking it was a door. All I can say is she must have been walking at quite the clip to end up looking like that.

She wasn't going to stay long. She had to run. Had to get going now... so I told her, "you don't have to leave, I feel like you just did a drive-by or something..."

...she laughed. Stayed a while longer and left waving and smiling with BBQ chicken in a ziploc from Laura.

So, is this the start of something? It's anyone's guess. I dunno... it could be a big step for her I suppose. We shall see what we shall see, ...without fretting.

April 22nd, 1998

The continuing big D update: My sister went over and cut the grass and raked at her friend's rental house this morning. A lady was outside across the street, so she went over to talk to her about the neighborhood. The woman was more than willing to talk.

It looks as though the 200 dollar a month house was - too good to be true. The fence that is partially smashed down was the result of a gang in the neighborhood. Apparently, they like cutting through that yard so they knocked down the fence. At one point, they had even gained access to the house - up until the police found out anyway. Like many cities in America, vacant and abandoned housing often becomes a target for gang activity. Sometimes they become crack houses, sometimes they are vandalized, and on occasion - they are burned to the ground. Add that up with another house that is within sight, one that is abundant with street level prostitution...

It all adds up to forget it. She wouldn't feel safe there with her children. I don't blame her. I wouldn't feel safe with them there either. Shit. I don't feel that safe about where she is now... and speaking of THAT asshole: he tore her day care license up. His 3 year old son told him, "Daddy, YOU should leave..." his spawn is obviously smarter than he.

Anyway, it looks like sis is back to ground zero. She's still filing for the divorce but, I think now she agrees with her son. He should be the one to leave. But will he? He told sis last night that both he and his mother think that this is all some resulting manifestation of our father's suicide. I guess some people have to look elsewhere to point a blaming finger toward anything other than themselves... how convenient to blame a dead guy for anything.

I've thought hard about the effects that Dad's suicide has had on me almost 15 months later. I've passed the anger stage and I have had no choice but to accept it. I miss him, but I know he's out of the pain he was in. He's not entirely gone though. Why? Because the best parts of him live on through each of us in many different ways. It took losing him for me to have the ability to look at my brothers and my sister and see him in their faces. Certain mannerisms we have are his. Yet they are ours. As well as all of the memories we have. Nobody can take those away. They can only be stolen with time... but, I'd bet even then, some of the best parts will live on through my nieces and nephews. Maybe a few bad parts, too; such as traits - like recklessness.

It might be that the most profound thing to manifest itself in this situation is the realization that life is so transitory. It's so easy for people to get so caught up in the day-to-day commotion of it all that they fail to truly appreciate it for what it is. It is fleeting. It is precious. Rather than squander such a blessing, why not appreciate it? Choose to actually live instead of merely existing.

Have you counted your blessings lately? When was the last time you looked at a sunset? The clouds? A smile? Have you ever felt joy when you looked at a tree? Have you ever taken the time to look at one? When was the last time you went through a week without complaining? A day? When was the last time you did something unexpectedly nice for someone when it WASN'T a holiday, a birthday or some other special event? When was the last time you did something nice for yourself? When was the last time you purposely ran out into the rain? When was the last time you plopped a big chunk of clay down on the table, just to play? When was the last time you fell asleep in a hammock? When was the last time you went to the toy store and bought something for you? I could go on and on - but, I won't. This illustrates the importance of joy in life. I am fully convinced that people can forget joy because they forget how to have fun. When you forget how to have fun - you aren't fun. Everything becomes bland, blah, phooey. Life is not boring... you are. So rather than exist, why not LIVE! What are you afraid of?

Other things: Laura and I got the 2 tiny baby chickens today. Rhode Island Red chickens. A hen and a rooster. They are at the fuzz without feathers stage. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the dogs will accept them. If we can convince the dogs that the chickens are their responsibility to keep in the yard and watch out for when they are out - everything should be fine. For some reason, I can't wait to hear that rooster crowing...

We are leaving early Friday morning to catch a red eye flight out of here. We're going to visit my brother and his family, and pick up the Mitsubishi Eclipse to drive back. It should be fun! My dream car at last! It's not brand new but it's new to me! We will return in the early part of next week - look for an update upon my return.

By the way - I found my car via the net! Laura got a great deal on a brand new vehicle, this year too. I can also plead guilty to buying a set of actual drive-in speakers via the net hee hee, and - for doing some of our grocery shopping here, too.

And by the way - when I return I'm going to reformat this site - so it isn't one gigantic scroll.

April 29th, 1998

I'm baaaaack! AND LOOK - I've kept my promise to reformat the site < like it or, not? > - - - - expect a lengthy entry later this week - - - - I am compelled to clean out the barn and do some housework first... apparently, guilt does have some silver linings.

April 30th, 1998

We made it back home safe in the eclipse without any negative incidents along the way. Of course whenever traveling in the U.S., it's customary to come across road crews and construction along the way; but fortunately, there wasn't a time that we were at a dead stop for more than a few minutes. The car got a rather astonishing 36 miles per gallon... and, it's a blast to drive compared to some of the cars I've had. I love it, I love it, I love it...

Getting the car wasn't as easy. We had to get up at 3 a.m. to catch our flight on the 24th. It was an hour to the airport and two flights from our destination. Once we arrived, we met my sister-in-law who drove us about 45 minutes back to the house. About an hour later, my brother shows up. One-half hour later and we depart for another 2 hour drive one-way to get the car. The man I bought the car from lived in a VERY remote location. The drive filled the windows with gorgeous scenery - and here I was gawking around and silently smirking because I couldn't stop thinking about how crazy this truly was: I am buying a car I have neither seen nor driven from a complete stranger. For a few moments I became a little nervous about the reality of the whole thing...

...oddly enough, I trusted the stranger that I had corresponded with via e-mail in the months preceding this spontaneous trip. I had good feelings about the admittedly unusual situation from the start. I can't adequately explain with words WHY. Sometimes, when something feels right and fits into things; falls into place if you will - it's inclusive magic. You don't have to have an explanation or a reason when you achieve this enchanted moment. It clearly is...

...and, it was meant to be. You knew it would be.

The diarist used to be a person who, for a time, thought that she was solely in control of whatever happened in her life. I no longer believe that to be entirely true, in fact, it is only an illusion of control. We THINK, so we tend to believe it is us who created the thought. But have we? Have we come up with a single new feeling that hasn't been experienced repeatedly in generations past? It seems that no matter how many changes there are around us, what is within us steadfastly remains. If we cannot invent an original feeling, how can we concoct original thought? This is where the magic comes into play. The magic of our imagination. The part of us that transcends scientific thinking based on concrete evidence and logic. The part that doesn't have to make sense, or look for it. The same part of us that knows and believes in what we cannot easily demonstrate. The same part that knows without proof of knowing.

Even though, I am a bit of a natural skeptic at heart; I've been actively honing my instinctual capacities, and at last, listening. I've found that the little inner voice we hear - or at least, the one that I hear - guides me seemingly at times, without rhyme, reason or general convention altogether. Whenever I've decided that it should be ignored in whole or part, for whatever the reason/excuse - it's like laying the groundwork for an instantaneous invitation to bullshit in one form or another. Gradual or sudden turmoil invades my life. Been there. Done that. Knew better. Didn't matter. Does now...

...still, it took an assortment of screw-ups, large and small, to reach this point. Even though, nirvana is nowhere in sight, I've discovered that optimism is a choice. And, a good one at that.

Enough of my off-the-cuff philosophical meanderings, now onto the chickens. We couldn't believe how fast they have grown already! Oh yeah, the birds, of course, have names: "Brewster the Rooster" and "Chicken Noodle." They do about five things in random order: eat, drink, sleep, peck and shit. That's really all they do. I think I know some people that are really chickens in a human casing...

The big D update: Not much to update here. They remain in the house together, and the tension is thick. In fact my sis stopped by with a girlfriend of hers and her husband dropped in shortly afterward with a 6 pack after bowling. Today I find out from my sis that "he didn't feel welcome" when he came over. Well, tough shit, because nobody said or did anything to make him feel that way. I'm not about to kiss anyone's ass - and, certainly not his. He has a enormous chip on his shoulder, I really don't care WHY. Nevertheless, it doesn't look like Mr. Moody is headed in another direction... he literally peeled out of the driveway after asking me to take over his hand in an impromptu euchre game. There's 8 feet of tire squeal marks in front of the house on the road. Although, it would be very cool if we were all 16 years old.

In talking with my sis, the big D seems to have turned into DELAY. She said she had talked to a lawyer and they haven't been married long enough for her to get much at this point. She's got 3 more years to go until the assets could be split. I asked her how she would put up with all of his crap for another 3 years and, the answer was: I don't know if I can, but I can't walk away with these kids with only the clothes on our backs... < insert a silent but blood curdling scream here >

YES - I've been through this before with her. The only way to leave the line of communication open here is to listen to her and be there for her - no matter what she does or doesn't do. Personally though, I think she should leave the temperamental asshole because she deserves to be treated with respect. Until she feels that way 100%, it ain't gonna happen...

And now, on to another screwed up situation about people you don't know, and this time, people I don't know either. Here's the background:

< insert music from the Twilight Zone here >There's a nurse that works at the same place Laura works. Laura had talked about "the nice Christian woman" on more than one occasion. So much in fact, I was starting to think this woman could be the next Mother Theresa, or possibly a brand-new religious icon. She's about 30, married and has 3 children ranging from 1 year old to the oldest at 11. She and her husband live in a pricey area on the outskirts of town. I'll call her "Sally"...

Sally does the same thing Laura does, except for a few obvious extras. Attending to patients who are homebound as a registered nurse. Many of the patients are regulars.One of the many patients seen by the nurses on a regular basis, is a man I'll call "Ricardo".

Heavily tattooed Ricardo lives in the rougher part of town. Several years ago, he was shot and remains paralyzed from the waist down. He has a wound which I will describe without the usual medical terms - he's got a big hole, like a dugout, between his asshole and his balls. The hole is 7 inches long, 4 inches deep and about 5 inches wide. It started off as a bed sore and ended up as a cavern because he didn't have the proper wheelchair or the right care.

The nurses job is to irrigate the cavern, pack it with wet gauze and bandage it with tape so further infection will be minimized. However, the patient isn't responding well due to a multi-resistant strain of bacteria. He's in and out of the hospital on a regular basis. The future doesn't look good for him.

Anyway, Sally is doing Ricardo and vice versa. Yeah, that's right - patient and nurse are sexually involved. Recently, Christian Sally left her husband and her children and has been spending the night with Ricardo.

Wow. I was stunned when I heard about this affair. She has so much to lose. He, on the other hand, has nothing to lose and everything to gain.

It got me thinking, I'm not certain that I could leave my animals like that, let alone children. With 2 of them at an age where they know what is going on, she's doing something that could affect them for the remainder of their lives; say up to 80 years plus or minus. Abandonment issues and a host of other problems could befall the children. What kids experience in this situation isn't the same as most adults would. Kids would feel like Mom left them. They'd feel unloved and rejected. They might blame themselves. Maybe they aren't good enough. They will act out. They will be confused and scared. They don't understand. For them it isn't about the other man. It's about them and Mom.

Sally's Christian foundation is cracked. She could lose her children, her husband, her professional reputation and job. Maybe the voices she's hearing are a sign of mental illness... She feels like she's listening to God. Hmmmmm. I can't believe any higher power for the good would take us on such irresponsible junkets. It's clear to me that she's not tuning in...

...but wait! What if there is a "reason" for this? What if it isn't her fault? What if it isn't her choice? What if she's possessed?

Well then - LUCKY FOR HER. It would be one way to eliminate alienating EVERY person you know...

I predict Sally will be kicking herself in the ass for years to come. I did have to laugh though when I asked, what about her husband? "Oh, Sally says that she has to do everything and he doesn't help."

Regardless, he does have the potential without a spinal cord injury.

Ricardo will never walk. But maybe, just maybe, Sally thinks that by having sex with him she can heal him. Maybe she sees herself as his saving grace or an angel of mercy, performing some sort of sexual divine intervention... who knows? People are so weird sometimes, all I can do is shake my head and smirk. I smirk because I am thankful that whatever they received for brains managed to bypass me, thank-you.

I know I've made bad choices, but they haven't been nearly that blatant. And no, I don't have a problem with an able bodied individual getting involved with a paraplegic or anyone who is differently-abled. So, don't accuse me of any prejudice here; I have the greatest difficulty in understanding why any woman would desert three kids for a fling with anyone, and especially one who claims such a strong foothold in Christianity.

As for her husband, I do feel sorry for him. I don't even know the man and I feel for him. WHY? Because I know what hurt feels like, just like you do. He's the one who is trying to deal with himself and his kids. I have great compassion for him as another human being. I'm sure he's neither sleeping or eating normally and is probably functioning in a daze with that churning, burning, completely sick-to-your-stomach feeling.

On any given day, it's the worst day of somebody's life. That never makes me feel good when I think about it...

Moving along In other news: Mom and Dave are going to be moving into their new house beginning this weekend. They are getting the keys on Sunday and are excited about the move, even though there's a lot of work involved in moving. I doubt if lugging everything over there is what has them aflutter. Of course we volunteered to help. The new place is a brick ranch, and over two thousand square feet. It was built in the 1930's and is somewhat avant garde, considering its time frame. Glass block is a big part of the contemporary design. From the video we saw, it looked very nice and different from anything Mom has ever lived in. I can't wait to check it out!

Mom sold the house Dad and she renovated. An old farmhouse on 3 and one-half acres. She said she hasn't seen the man that bought it and, she doesn't want to see him. I didn't ask why... but, it looks like I'll be saying goodbye to the house that is so much of my Dad sooner than I thought. I don't relish that thought... because I will have to cry. I know I will. It's like saying goodbye again. I've done that so many damn times now. So many times that I think that dying just might be easier than living.

As write, my throat is burning. I feel like a sword swallower after a week of non-stop performances. I'm coming down with something. My eyes have been watering and I've felt a pressure band on my face like I have on a pair of underwater goggles that are way too tight. For the last hour, the expression on my face is the one you get right before a sneeze, only it's frozen. I sound like I have a chip-clip on my nostrils when I speak, and when I do sneeze, it hurts like hell...

...but, don't worry, I won't e-mail you this virus.