diary of a mad handyma'am

Parenting power:
When I was growing up, my Dad would say... "just do it" waaaaaay before Nike snagged the phrase as their own... and, when Dad spoke that way, we were reminded of our peon status in short order. And whatever it was - we did it... .... we did it without questioning the authority; .... we did it right then, .... we did it without whining... < at least, whining he could hear > but the truth was: we snapped right to it because we didn't want our asses beat.

So here I was thinking about my Dad today. And wondering again < for the zillionth time > why he "just did it" < committed suicide > and realizing that even though I may never fully integrate and/or feel comfortable with this event no matter how much time passes, I know that if he appeared before me at this very moment: I would most certainly beat his ass.

GAMES:
Sleep seems to be playing hide and go seek with me lately. It's twister city in the sheets again. The wide-eyed at night monopoly. During the day, I'm not playing with a full deck. I am a sleep deprived zombie madma'am heading into the 4th day of sleeplessness. I am not here. I have been overtaken by resident evil. Tonight I will roll the dice and hope to intercept the sandman. Meanwhile, I'm sleepworking another 10 hour day. I hope to solve the puzzle with chamomile tea later. If that doesn't work... my not-so trivial pursuit of sleep will possibly include a self-induced knock upside the head.

GO AHEAD & LAUGH:
For whatever the reason... just about EVERYTHING is exceeeeeeeeeeedingly funny right now. And, I have the secret formula: sleep 3 ½ to 4 hours each night for < at least > 4 consecutive days. Under this constraint, force yourself to carry out your normal range of activities minus daytime relaxation attempts or impulses. RESULT: you will appear as if you are on drugs BUT - you will pass any drug test administered.

OK.... so.... it's Friday. AND... I am glad to report that I am fully rested today. The insomnia I irregularly deal with is usually brought on by stress < as was the case this time > although it has also been linked to my caffiene intake late in the day. The latter of which I try to avoid.

At least a few times every year I like to stay up all night on purpose. Usually I like to do this in the summer on a clear night with a full moon. There's something mystic about wandering around the compound outdoors deep in the night.... barefoot with dew dampened feet inspecting the shadows. Hearing my thoughts. Imagining creepy crawlers in the thickets and chasing God in the night sky...

IN THE NEWS:politics
Republican convention last night. I didn't watch. BUT... I couldn't help but notice that on the CNN net news site this morning the headline that splashed across the page was "Throngs in London cheer Queen Mother on her 100th birthday" ... ;^)...hmmmmmm? A little surprising. Convention speech must have been a sleeper < I can believe that >. If it would have been a "WOW" it would have made the top headline... but, good. I'm glad. That means Gore still has a chance to WOW ‘EM. < Note to Tipper: PLEASE pinch your husband's ass during the Democratic Convention WHILE it's being broadcast live... enough to make him jump, smirk and blush... you'd be the first lady for a good cause! > GUESS WHAT??!! The CNN site updated the headline at 9:54 EDT: "GOP nomination on hand, Bush prepares to take on Gore" < and I'm laughing... again >... ‘cuz I hope Al Gores him < & in case you were wondering... I'm leaning towards Al picking KERRY as his running mate >. In case you weren't.... then tell me WHY in the hell did you bothered to read that sentence?

IN THE NEWS:onto the news known as my life
The weekend looms and I have work to do. Business as usual for the mad handyma'am. Grass cutting is first on the list. Trying to remember if I have enough gas in the gas can to do it - and well.... I can't even do that so I'll have to do the hands on check: hands on gas can and lift. Soooooooo... it's a wait ‘n see situation. Like most weekends - I wait and see what I can accomplish. And, what is it I want to accomplish this weekend? A bunch.

Like what? Hmmmmmm... weeding around the compound is a given. And, right now I've got a enormous stockpile of wood in the barn that is waiting to be sliced and diced, planed and polyurethaned for trim in the house. Routered, too.

The master bath addition has become the catch-all, store all for tools and equipment since it's a shell currently. It needs to be cleaned out and reorganized.

STEPPING OUT
In between other things and general living, Cass and I have been making stepping stones for the courtyard and creating paths. Right now there's more than 1,000 pounds of dry concrete mix in the barn. And, if you're not tired thinking about it: the cement is mixed < in a drywall bucket with a trowel > and poured < entirely by hand > into a non-fancy 2x4 square built for the job. The square form sits on an old piece of scrap plywood when you cast it. Since a 2x4 is actully 3 ½ wide, we generally pour the stones about 2 to 2 ½ thick. We've embellished some of them with pieces of leftover tile, various stones and irridencent blue glass globs that you can get at a craft store. One of my favorites though is a stone I made to pay tribute to Crown Royal... the caps of which are embedded in the stone.

Hmmmmm.... suddenly I have another idea!! I'm gonna make a stone and embed the image of my hammer < actually, I mean my "damn hammer"... since that's what I usually call it > See... that's EXACTLY how I get going on these tangents... and it appears as if I cannot be stopped.

The grass is cut again. Right now I'm waiting for the engine to cool down so I can spray it off with a hose, as well as the underside mowing deck. For some damn reason today I felt as if I was driving one of those little train car engines that pull kids around on a mini railroad track. The tractor sounds a little funny soooooooo.... I'm thinking the worst and wondering what is getting ready to break on it. It's not like I always think the worst. That certainly isn't the general rule. BUT... I've been around enough mechanical beasties to know something is up. So, I'll add it to the worry list I suppose...

It's sort of a big worry though. WHY? Because I have lots and lots to cut. I have the kind of yard that you could stroke out on if you had to push mow all of it. OK. So I'll push it up past the smaller worries. Worries that are more of a major concern.... YEAH.... that's where I'll put it.

Regardless where it is on the list... worrying isn't gonna make it sound right. Hmmmmm.... so then, after I wash it... I'll inspect it. YEAH. That's what I'll do.

Hmmmmm.... so then the rest of my plans for the day are shot. I'll be dissecting the mower problem... I'll be cleaning it and probably finding things wrong... and then I'll get pissed off. And then I might need beer. And then I might not get anything done because I'll crank up the music in the courtyard and drink and forget about the tractor and the yard and the funny sound. I might even drink beer and start the tractor again and declare that it sounds perfectly normal. I might drink beer and find something wrong with the tractor and decide that since I just paid off all of my credit cards that I need to go buy a brand new tractor. A shiny new one with that new tractor smell. Or, I might drink beer and not eat and find something wrong with the tractor and decide that the tractor is the ignorant grandmother whose ass I'd like to beat. And I'd get the flashlight and find the sledgehammer and wake up the next day with a hangover and no tractor at all...

August 6th, 2000 No... I didn't fix the tractor. Didn't start it. Didn't even as much as clean it. I hid the car keys and the flashlight and well.... I drank beer. I ignored the tractor and left it out in the yard all night as a punishment. A punishment to it because it rained. And... I did it on purpose because I am just that way.

Normally, I never do that. I hate that. You're not supposed to leave your tools laying out in the yard you know. I hate the thought of even having my hammer lying flat on the dirt for more than 5 seconds. But the tractor isn't a hand tool so it must be ok then, huh? NO. That's not it at all. I did it because I drank beer. Reason? No reason. Excuse. An excuse for tool abuse. It was the beer. And, beer can make you do things like that. In between frequent trips to the bathroom, beer is busy building nerves. Nerves that break down steely reserve < not that I'm THAT reserved >.

So then... the phrases singing in my head last evening were "fuck it... whoooooo cares... it can wait... and I don't give a damn... so there." As you can see, beer has real value.

After my first beer < you know - priming the pump > any jitters I had receded and I called up a long time e-friend who lives waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay over yonder. She had never heard my voice before and wrote me an e-mail earlier in the day saying she was curious about it. Hmmm... ahhhh.... ummmm.... OK.

So later, after getting a permission slip from my most wonderful girlfriend < well... you didn't think I call another woman and one who wants to "hear my voice" without asking her, didja?! ;^) > ... then, I called.

Within 5 minutes of talking to her she claims that I have an "accent..." and for whatever the reason, I found this to be quite amusing. While I have been known to carry on entire evenings speaking in an English accent < that's what overexposure to Public Television can do to you > I have never thought of myself as having an accent. I still don't. In fact, I think I speak whatever accent Dan Rather and all of the other world newscasters speak in. Is THAT an accent? I didn't think so... but... I can't stop laughing about it now. I have an accent. I have an accent. I have an accent.

After blabbing and laughing on the phone I am certain that this woman < and yeah, she knows who she is > has confirmed whatever my affliction... ;^)... STILL... I forgot to ask her if I sounded like my writing... but then I realized that I probably didn't. WHY? That's easy. It's because of this damn accent.

Of course, we did talk a bit about this journal. And, about the fact that I could never write all of the things down that were going on inside of my head because... well... because I couldn't. I can't type as fast as I think. And, I don't have time to chronicle every thought even if I could. So then... what you are getting are equal to little pieces I break off and throw out there. Now I'm not trying to equate any of you lovely people unto pigeons and me with a piece of bread but - you know?! And I don't have time to get into every detail of activity and the endless streams of thought because I would be bound to this computer. And, if I was bound to the computer for too long... I'd quickly learn to detest this microchip marvel and I couldn't be the mad handyma'am I am.

Plus, there are certain things I don't talk about here. Huh? Oh, you know..... things about SEX. It's certainly NOT because some of you wouldn't like to read it. I know because I get a stray e-mail now and again regarding that. And if you sent one, I want you to know I laughed at you. I laughed at you right in your typeface. Aside from that... if I told you anything... well... you might start feeling really, really bad about yourself... you know... inadequate even. I wouldn't want to do that to you. I wouldn't. Because I care about your self-esteem.

Now back to what I was trying to tell ya... the phone call thingy. It was cool. And it was cool because I could have NEVER done anything like that if the ex-girlfriend was in the picture. She was far too insecure. BUTOHGODILOVEMYLIFENOW! And - since I called, there is now a voice in my mind to go with the mail. Now there is someone out there who has verified my peculiar demeanor.

Still... I'm not sure she'll be joining my cult any time soon. I don't think she likes the idea of wearing a caftan at all times...

the accent accusation < and a bit about my bad English >
I got mail... the accent has been confirmed. Mail from an unnamed yet informed source who verified my specific Midwest accent by sending me the following:

>>> The "accent" used by Dan Rather and other newscasters IS indeed a particular thing! It's called "Standard American" if I remember correctly, and it's supposed to be "neutral" (hence newscasters using it), but is most closely related to the Midwest.<<<

>>> "Accents" are actually the sound English has when spoken by someone who is not a native English speaker (ie a Spaniard speaking English).

"Dialects" are the variety of sounds or ways of speaking used by English speakers when speaking English (ie a southern drawl or a New Yorker) <<<

Ha. So... I don't have an accent. I have a dialect. A Standard American dialect. So there. Even though I'm not a Standard American citizen, I have the dialect.

AND.... according to the e friend I called who pointed out the dialect on the phone, I also cuss freely in that dialect. Not only that but I am crazier, too. Hmmmm... she retracted that statement when I asked for an explanation! But she did verify that I was as crazy as she originally thought...< is that really better? >...BUT that I swear more < hmmmm.... beer maybe? >... so I'm like sitting here laughing thinking about it. And I'm laughing in my dialect. And it's OK. It's OK because I have neither seen a swear word in any e-mail she's sent me nor did I hear one when we spoke. WHY? That's easy...

I am one bad *&%$#!. A bad *&%$#! who would bet the good girl ain't gonna be cranking up the music and slamming a beer on any given evening. And you know... that's OKwith me...

the sista update
Moments ago, I hung up the office phone. It was sis who sounded both peeved and tired. So what happened? Well... over the weekend she got a phone call from the Grandma in question. Even after the motion was filed in court denouncing her and her bizarre behavior < regarding the alleged sexual abuse of her granddaughter > she called my sister. Now WHY would she do that? OK. Stupidity maybe? Balls as big as the moon? OR... is it because the court had previously issued every other week visitation with the grandkids? Probably the latter which only proves her stupidity along with the size of her honorary balls...

... in all seriousness though, it was probably suggested by her lawyer since it was previously ordered by the court.

The lawyer stated that she received the court document which clearly spells out the charge. Sis had a copy and read it to me over the phone and frankly, there's no mistaking the motion. As far as I'm concerned, the contents of the document supply the grounds to defy the previous court order - as in terra firma. No parent in their right mind is going to allow their children visitation with a possible molester. In light of that, do you think a judge will condemn her for doing so? I wouldn't think so...

Also... when I talked to sis on the phone today she told me that the grandparents have now filed another motion themselves... a "show cause" motion. The maneuver appears rather redundant to me only because the point of going to court over the sexual abuse allegation is to provide evidence, but - it's how hoops are jumped through in our legal system. If you defy a court order you must show cause as to why or be found in contempt of the court.

So.... the countdown is on. The court date is set for Monday afternoon. We will be there to support my sis < along with a small entourage >. We expect to know something later that day.

Oh... and, I can't forget to thank everyone who wrote to offer both support and prayers... ...hmmmm... now there is something that has actual value.

Did my time at the office. Got up at 5:20 a. Left home at 6:20 a. Left office at 4:25. Home by 4:50. Ate a phenomenal Caesar salad for dinner. Went for a brisk 1 mile walk in the woods with my girlfriend. Back home by 6:00 p. Noticed phone line 1 wasn't working. Noticed phone < computer > line 2 was working. Checked 3 telephones in the house. Looked for phone book. Found number. Search for test phone to hook up to computer line. Find it. Plug in the modular jack from the modem. Called phone company. 1-800 number. Listened to robot. Pressed 1 and 2 at least 10 times after entering area code and phone number. Robot gives instructions on how to test the line < more like a refresher course since I have done this before >. Take out the screen in the window. Hang modular plug from test phone out of the window. Go outside and open the interface with a screwdriver. Box mounted on house. Take modular plugs out of interface box one by one. Plug in test phone. Line 2 works. Line 1 doesn't. Call robot back. Listen to the same shit. Press damn buttons. 6:15 p - "a representative will be with you in a minute" declared the robot. 6:20 still on hold. Bad music. Recorded ads. 6:25 still on hold. 6:30 still on hold. Same bad music. 6:35 a woman answers. "Hello, this is Regina... and how can I help you?" --- and I wonder how many times she says this in a day? >>Uhhhh... you can help me by answering the phone, huh?!<< and then I think about all the assholes she has to deal with... and I realize that I'm on the borderline and could easily be one of them so I laugh and tell her I wouldn't want her job and she cracks up says she's been sworn at many, many times before... and I say that i would imagine she has and then she gives me bad news and I really do want to swear.... I do I do I do... but I didn't. I am a good girl in training. And when i hung up the phone i forgot all about that and said fuck. ANYWAY.... I was having a fairly good day and now I am sitting here at 7:10 p bitching that there will be no technician out here to check and/or fix the main phone line until MONDAY. As much as I like my tech stuff, there is a part of me that abhors it as well. I have a love/hate relationship with all of the gadgets and wires and electronic devices around me.

If I did, I wouldn't even bother having a tin-can string phone system. If you we're that damn close you could holler.If I felt like talking to you, I could holler back.

YES... yes... I go through this from time to time regardless of the telephone status... and I'm certain I've voiced it before. I don't spend an inordinate amount of time on the phone. But ain't it odd how the minute that baby is out of commission... I feel like I somehow need it??!!

The INCESSANT MOTIF
I have what seems like 10 million things to do. You might have noticed that this damn theme is repetitious in my life. I have. You might have noticed that this damn theme is repetitious in my life. I have. You might have noticed that this damn theme is repetitious in my life. I have.

Seems I am destined to repeat myself not only on purpose - BUT... with a purpose.

The RETRO Concept
When I'm not working I'm generally thinking about work. OR... I could be thinking about acquiring some retro cool stuff.

everything old is cool again
Although my house is an ecclectic mix... I love retro moderne. I love art deco stuff, too. In fact, if it's old or has a certain style then I would probably like it. I may have previously mentioned that have a relatively small collection of old tube radios... hmmm... about 10 right now < including a console model >. I haven't bought another one since last year, so I am overdue. The only thing keeping me from buying another is that I have yet to find "the one." You know... the one that catches your eye as you walk past it. The one that makes you go back to it's location and walk away again and mull the parting of cash. The one that makes you ask the seller to knock down the price some. The one I am searching for is a red radio... and have yet to find one that meets my expectations. One day I'll find it. And, when I do - I hope I have money in my pocket. I don't know why this next radio I acquire HAS to be red - but it does. I will settle for nothing less. My mind has been made up.

Sign, sign.... everywhere a sign
I collect signs. I have some old, some new and some reproduction signs. I love my signs! In fact... there is an entire wall along the stairway in the house devoted to them. The signs spill out into the Outback Inn as well. Hmmmmm.... and with the recent acquisition of 5 new signs... signs which are now adorning the walls inside the courtyard around recently built outdoor "sky bar" ... it looks like they might eventually take over.

The largest and oldest sign I have isn't being displayed currently. It's in the barn up against the wall in two pieces. I bought this sign a couple of years ago when they tore down an old dairy in the town I grew up in. It was mounted on the side of their building and it is 8 feet long and 8 feet high!

Other old stuff
Of course, the old art deco cigarette machine I have restored that stands in the wing is one of my favorite acquisitions. But....hmmmmmmm.... wait a minute... there's also an old Coca-Cola vending machine out in the Outback Inn... and, I love that as well... even though the Coke Vendo needs some restoration, I still like to stare at it. I stare at it and wonder how in the hell I'll ever get the time to take on that project.

time for another Sista update
Yesterday she had to appear at the Grandparent's lawyer's office for a deposition. She had called me early in the day and seemed to be very, very nervous about it. I tried to calm her down by saying everything was going to work out just right - because I do believe that < I have this incredible faith >. But...who can blame her? I mean... how much shit can a person take? Especially something like this. Knowing she was going to be grilled by the other team in regard to this sexual abuse allegation. So they can build a defense... or turn things around to cast doubt on the entire story when we get to court on Monday afternoon < court is now rescheduled for 4 p.m. EST >.

Soooooo.... I waited all afternoon on pins and needles to hear from her. She was to appear in the early afternoon there with her lawyer, and her best friend was with her for support. I was especially anxious to hear from her since I do not have a damn phone at home until Monday! And, as I was about to walk out the door to my car - the phone rang. It was her.

Everything went well she thought. I felt instant relief. She sounded stressed out and tired but she said that her best friend told her she did very well. She also said that they kept trying to trip her up on the story by asking her the same questions in different ways... typical lawyer bullshit I suppose... try to confuse the other side if you don't have a real defense. She maintained her composure during all of it and despite feeling like she was going to break down and cry a few times... she didn't. She did say that this entire ordeal made her sick and that if she could press criminal charges against her that she would... a statement she made out loud while there. And YES.... both grandparents WERE in the room as well.

What REALLY pissed my sis off though was an inference made by their lawyer in regard to "how much time does your daughter spend alone with her 10 year old brother?" and, "how much time does she spend alone with your boyfriend?" The old let us try and blame it on someone else trick.

STILL, they now have an ace in the hole for Monday. Actually, maybe even two. WHAT? Well... the DSS worker's statement that "she has done this before, " did NOT come out there. This can of whoop ass will be opened Monday afternoon.

The second can of whoop ass comes in the form of Sista's former brother-in-law and his wife. Both of whom my sis remains in contact with. Both of whom are great people. Both of whom I liked the first time I met them. In fact, they live in the same neighborhood as my Mom and Dave < who are doing wonderfully I might add! >. Anyway... they have 2 kids that are the same age as my sisters. Kids who have never spent the night with Grandma even though she lives about a block away from them. Kids who she has never taken anywhere alone. Kids who have a minimal < at best > relationship with her or their Grandfather. Now doesn't that seem a little strange? Why aren't they taking THEM to court to get visitation? This son is alive and well with 2 kids the same age!!

Anyway... what it comes down to is this: they < former bro-in-law and wife > have already been served papers to appear in court on Monday. So then... it certainly does look like this should be a lively event.

Sista's lawyer told her < when they were leaving and were in the parking lot > that < Grandma > looked like she "was gonna crack"... and it was also his observation that she "was psycho" and he thought she might even confess.

I guess we will wait and see. At this point there isn't much that could surprise me. At least, not when it comes to this... ...feel free to send me good karma.

Time for another Sista update
OK. The court date Monday afternoon. We stood around and sat momentarily during the course of an hour and a half at the courthouse. We waited only to find that there wasn't enough time for the hearing. They rescheduled for 8:30a today. So we left.

We left and went to Sista's house. Cass and I hung with the kids and the boyfriend. Drank Killian's Red. Then, we decided to take a spontaneous boat ride. The kids were excited. Excited because Sista's boyfriend has a boat and they absolutely love it. So, he quickly backed up the big ol' black truck and hooked up the boat trailer hitch. I swear this entire incident, from the time it was mentioned to the time we left, was accomplished in 10 minutes time.

The launch is another short drive. 10 more minutes and we were in the boat and heading down the river. Heading down the river in a large speedboat, all seven of us.

The wind felt good on my face. Even though sitting toward the rear meant that my untethered hair would be whipping in my face and the roar of the wind in my ears was nearly deafening at times... for whatever the reason, I didn't mind it at all. I was good to be thinking about something else. It was good to smell the random fish scents and feel the intermittent river spritz. It was good. For a moment I relaxed. For a moment I remembered the familiarity of my father's boat. Of growing up and being on this river. Of fishing trips and bait. Sandwiches in the cooler and beverages on ice. Traveling back home with buckets of fish. Scaling using a bottlecap scaler < nail 2-3 bottlecaps on a wood stick > and fresh fish guts on newspaper. Woods along the way. The old lumber mill pilings that remain along the rivers banks. Remnants of yesterday. This same body of water that I traveled while I was growing up I was traveling now. For a second I decided that I don't know anymore about life than I did then. Then I changed my mind. And in another split-second, I decided that what I know now isn't what I want to know at all. I'm a different person traveling down that river. But, still... I remember her. I remember the girl I was. It's just that now, this woman I am isn't exactly sure whatever happened to her.

Nevertheless...regardless of my fleeting thoughts... the boat drive was most enjoyable. I could tell Cass was having a good time because she couldn't wipe the grin from her face. Every time I looked over at her she had a big ol' smirky face! And the kids, well... they're kids! ...they were having a blast running around with their life preservers and bathing suits on like kids will do. The 2 boys ended up tubing and knee-boarding behind the boat while we gave ‘em "thumbs ups" and screaming words of encouragement. They ended up both feeling like little champions for hanging on and showing off their skills. And they were.

Now... it's Tuesday morning and I need more sleep but I have to get up and get ready to be at the courthouse with my Sista by 8:30a. Cass watched the 3 kids while we were gone. And, while we were gone they transformed a portion of the courtyard into a toad maze. You see.... there are a large family of toads that live in the courtyard under one of the footbridges. Apparently the kids thought these toads might like a containment zone that included such amenities as a pond and burrows. The project was constructed using planks and mud. Now... there are some toys that even I like... ;^)

Anyway - we get to court at 8:20. And, we proceed to sit on these churchy-wooden pew benches - that are, I am convinced, ...not intended for long-term use. We left the court shortly after noon. Besides... it was freezing in the room. That and well... my ass had seen enough of that plank.

So what happened? First... the judge didn't come into the room until 9:35. Then... the bro-in-law's wife was the first called to the stand. After being sworn in, she moves over to the chair and sits. She looked incredibly small and frail with a big microphone hanging in her face.

Grandmother's attorney doth protest < grandfather was not present in the court >. The attorney said he didn't know why these witnesses were being called. He thought it was irrelevant. The judge wanted to have them called to the stand. Objection overruled.

Grandmother's attorney has a bad body in an expensive blue suit. Comb-over beyond thinning dirty blond hair. A somewhat ruddy yet fair complexion that turns bright red when he gets ruffled. A short ample man with a gruff voice, who freely displays an authoritarian behavior pattern. He's haughty even. Plus... he's perfected dirty looks. Most of all though... he's easy to dislike. For me anyway. I didn't like him the first time I laid eyes on him. And, that doesn't happen very often. But... hmmmm.... looks like he lost another customer.

Anyway... the bro-in-law and wife... their testimony showed that there were no overnight visits and that grandma saw the kids 3 to 5 times per year and only at their home. But, when asked if they felt grandma would cause physical harm to their children if she took them... they both paused and answered "no".

Then my Sista took the stand. She looked tired because she was. This crap has been dragging on for over a year now. Her voiced cracked when she relayed what her daughter told her. The judge admonished her for not calling the police and taking her to the emergency room.

The proceedings were rather boring at times, as the lawyers would both ask the same twisted around questions. How much time did grandma spend with this kids when your husband was alive? How much time did they spend with her alone? How much time did they spend with her after their father died? When did this change? Why did this change?

Nothing came out about the DSS worker's statement. Her lawyer said that there was going to be a full investigation in regard to the matter and it will come out as evidence if it's there. What is happening now is her daughter will be going to a specialist < as ordered by the court today > in a city far away as soon as possible on the next available Wednesday < yeah right >.

In the meantime... for now, Grandma has no physical visitation. Meanwhile Gramps has a half a day Sunday once a month visitation. Grandma was granted the right to call and talk to the children on the phone twice a week...and, yes... I've already told my sis that I think she should be either bugging those phone calls or outright listening in.

The judge wants to talk to the kids in the chamber. That will be arranged soon. But you can bet... this ordeal won't be over quickly.

Grandmother did take the stand today. She looked sort of drugged out to me and probably was. But, you know... pharmaceuticals are legal right? It's OK to get drugged up if you score from a doctor. When they asked her to state her name...she said it... then, they asked her age... she replied that she was "46" and then she said, "Noooo.... 47"......... < intentional pause >... "uhhhh... I don't remember... but I was born in 1942..." For a moment I wanted to bust out laughing. I settled for a big smile instead. One that I quickly wiped off my face. There's no need to tempt a laughing jag. Not when I felt the potential there. Not there.

They asked her all the expected questions about previous visitation with the kids. She answered sounding somewhat controlled yet flat. Under cross examination, she revealed that she is on Prozac. 10 mgs twice a day for the last 2 ½ years. She said it was for her anxiety... the lawyer reminded her that that was anti-depressant medicine to which she replied, "oh... that's right... I think it is." She said she needed it after her son died. So, if she's been taking it for 2 ½ years I guess she needed it before, too. It's only been a year and a half since he was killed. I found the testimony to be mildly entertaining but I didn't think much of it was as irritating or inflammatory as I had imagined it would be. Nor did I think much was particularly relevant.

So there you have it. And.... I have had it.... I'm feeling drained so I leave it at this.

OK... I'm back. I'm really back. Back after feeling stressed. Or... should I say stressed again?

Hell. My life has been running from one stressor to another for the last 3½ years. What would I do without it? Hmmmmm.... what a concept, eh? Frankly, I can't imagine it. I might have forgot what it feels like entirely.

Next week I might not write much.WHY do I know this? OK. I know this because I am going to have my sister's 3 kids here for a week starting on Monday and going through the following Sunday. I doubt that they will allow me any time that I could call my own.

Am I going to be stressed having them here? Maybe a little... but... this event of the season has been planned for months now. There is no backing out. These kids are SOOOOOOOOO excited about coming over and staying with their outrageous Aunt...... so excited they can hardly stand the suspense. And, we have plenty of activities planned during their stay. They are gonna have a blast.

We will paint. I have LOTS of acrylic paints. Every color you can think of. Brushes of every size. And, I have plenty of paper. A box of old computer perf paper. And, an easel to paint on outdoors. On one of those days, I plan to paint them all like tribal members < including myself and Cass >. Maybe before the sun sets on a warm and clear night, when we have a big bonfire in the back yard. That would be fitting to see their painted bodies in the flickering light of the flames.

I've already been informed by my 6 year old nephew that we have to have an "all day/all night disco party..." so.... I'd better plan on making that wish come true. Especially since the other kids agreed. So then...OK. Time to dust off Donna Summer's "Bad Girl" album along with the rest of the old vinyl stack. And, time to get batteries for the laser machine and the disco ball. Hmmmmm.... the oldest one wonders if we'll have time to build a go-go cage. A go-go cage so HE can dance in it... he seems to be quite taken by this idea after I mentioned it < joking > that we could make a go-go cage out of PVC piping. Therefore, I have no one to blame but myself if I end up with a damn go-go cage... a seriously funny item to add to the frivolity. No matter what.... even if we ARE go-go cage-less, I expect we and the hippie kids will be doing some serious barefoot booty shaking.

We will also be playing with clay, building birdhouses and making more stepping stones. Stepping stones personalized by little hand prints and probably a few footprints, too. In fact, if you were a family member or a friend... I'd coerce you to make me a stone, too. We are beginning the process of immortalizing people in stone. The cast cement stones better known as the courtyard footpaths. We like it. Very much. It's history in the making.

I am looking forward to having the kids here. As well as having my friend's 13 year old son < who I adore! > for a few nights during that time, too. I need to be around them. They give me great joy... and, plenty of laughter. Even if I don't get much sleep...

...which, of course, that would be nothing new. But the reasons for it are different. When they are here, I expect it. It's the unexpected lack of sleep that stalks me. I need to get a restraining order on that bitch.

Ahhhhhhhh.... it's Saturday night. Just returned from the grocery shopping experience. Trying prepare for the arrival of the tribe. A process which I expect to continue up until the point of arrival. Then... all hell will break loose. And, I can expect to hear my name at a rate of once every 20 seconds.

Because the kids are coming, we bought things that we would not normally buy. Stuff like several boxes of Pop Tarts... 400 paper plates... plastic utensils... a commercial size can of Ravioli... 5 pounds of hot dogs... 3 pounds of mints... a thousand napkins... throw-away cups... Rice Krispies treats... a gallon of dill pickles... 27 individual bags of snacks... 24 individual bags of Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies... ha! That's just to name some of it. It might make the frequent feeding frenzy and subsequent clean up easier. Whether or not it works remains to be seen. AND... if they don't eat all of this snack food, it'll be traveling back home with them come next Sunday. OK... except for maybe whatever is left of Famous Amos.

As you might have guessed, I am the personification of the indulgent Aunt. I am a true liberal. And in being so, I believe in the value of allowing kids to be kids. Partly because I am a big kid myself. Yes....I am in touch with my inner child as well as my inner bitch... just ask my girlfriend and she'd tell you the kid disappeared and the bitch appeared in the car. As she propelled down the road I was bitching in the car about what I need to do yet this year and how I'm not gonna get it done....< ! >.... and she gently reminded me about how hard I am on myself and how high my expectations are... right before she told me to shut up....

Yeah. You may have noticed that I haven't been talking much about any handyma'am projects this month. Nothing other than a few stepping stones anyway. Wellllllll.... I gave myself a break and didn't do what I am now feeling guilty about not doing. Which in effect, all comes down to work. Work, work and more work. I've been trying to do too much now for years. It's very normal for me to feel as if I can't accomplish enough. Not even when it appears that I am doing the work of a an entire crew. It's never enough.

Earlier today, while my girlfriend was gone to work, I did some domestic activities. You know, that popular pastime of scrubbing the kitchen floor on your hands and knees, and, scouring with a brush in the necessary places. Afterwards, I even applied 3 coats of sealer... among a few other household related things. So even when I say that I haven't been doing much in the way of handyma'am activities... you might be able to see that I still have a very, very hard time trying to do nothing.

Tomorrow the grass needs to be cut, the weeds in the garden and flower beds need to be pulled and, we must attempt to make a trip to the home improvement store to purchase the PVC pipe material to build the go-go cage. That, along with several bags of sand to dump within the courtyard to play in.

If I have time tomorrow, I'll venture into the barn to pull out the painting easel and hose it down outside. I'll clean the lenses and sight the telescope. I'll fill all the outdoor torches with lamp fuel. I'll stockpile some wood in the courtyard for the grill and the cast iron chiminea. Take a broom to the interior of the Outback Inn and check the house to see that it is properly child proofed for added safety.

Hmmmmmm... it's getting easier for me to understand why I don't sleep much. There isn't enough time in a damn day. At least when I am working some tough physical labor... I pass out from sheer exhaustion. When I have a million and one things on my mind... it's harder to shut it off when I try to kick back.

Oh well. At least I didn't have to spend thousands and thousands of dollars in therapy trying to find out who in the hell I am. I already know that. I am the pain in my own ass.

against the flow: a strange moment documented
Often enough I sit down at the keyboard and don't know what I'm going to say. There's no outline, no idea... no nothing. In those moments, that is when I simply begin to transcribe my thoughts. Sooooo now you know and, ...it's not like I'm trying to perform some sort of mysterious automatic writing thing. There are no particular gimmicks involved in this. No hidden wires. No nuclear science. It's fairly simple. On the other hand, it's dangerous. Nooooo not because I am sweating up a storm and tempting electrocution. In real life, I'm not a sweater... if you know what I mean. When suddenly...

...my mind takes a holiday. My thoughts begin to waft around between the significant and the inane. When unexpectedly, a great big fly lands on one of the slats of the open blind. The window which appears slightly to the left of the screen <-------- the one OVER THERE. Well, the sun is shining on the window at the proper angle to illuminate the big fly. Soon, I'm not typing anything and I'm staring at the fly. Here I sit rapt gazing at this big ass black fly on the blind slat. The sun shining just so you could see a slight irridensence in it's transparent mosaiced wings. The fly was grooming itself. Just when I thought that flies didn't care about themselves, I see this mother preening before me. He used his front pair of legs like a cold guy rubbing sticks together in an earnest yet dumb attempt to start a fire. No kidding. That damn fly looked like he was gonna whip out a bib as he rubbed his "hands" together in preparation of a feast... he even appeared to be grooming them at the joint with his teenie-tiny fly mouth. Like a cat.Imagine that. After that, he put the newly groomed front pair back on the slat and began to preen his wings not only on the underside but on the top with his back pair of legs. Plus, he did it all with a certain measure of refinement.

Still... I don't get it. I mean, why does a damn fly do this? And... why have I never noticed it before? I mean do flies have this cleansing ritual thing with any regularity? Damned flies always let me know where the dog shits. I didn't think they would give a damn.

So I get up. Now, where in the hell is that fly swatter? I pace about. Looking for the swatter. Mid-step I wonder if maybe God was trying to illustrate the soul of a fly to me right then... well... OK... so I know that God supposedly knows everything about you... and God knows your entire story from beginning to end... everything about you... every thought... every action... every good deed...

Welllllllll then... in light of that... then it's absolutely safe to say that God knew I was gonna kill the little bastard.

Hmmmmmm... but... but... what if that fly is waiting in my room once I get to heaven? That would suck, huh?

DAY 1: the kids
Yesterday later in the afternoon I decide to build the go-go cage from materials at hand. WE NOW HAVE A GO-GO HUT. Inside the courtyard in the corner. A hut because the roof is thatched. Thatched with the leftover leaves from previously blooming tiger lilies. The perfect material for it. AND... today I made a sign for the top of it, too - >>TIKI-A-GO-GO<<. You can expect a picture posted soon...

The kids loved it....;^)... and so do we! I can blame some of the end product on one of my male co-workers who has a TIKI LOUNGE all his own... the end result of roof thatching only reminded me of his TIKI fetish, hence the name.

When the kids weren't playing in the dirt, they were jumping in and out of the stock tank all afternoon. End result = mud. Mud and lots of it. THEN... they want to get on the hammock... the swing... let's draw... let's go for a walk... let's dance... let's eat... I'm hungry.... I'm thirsty... look at me... watch me... talk to me... come here... go there... no... nooooo... I wanna show ya something... hey wait... come here... let's go over there... when are we gonna < fill in the blank >... when can we < fill in the blank >... when are you < fill in the blank >...will you < fill in the blank >... and on and on. Typical kid stuff! Exactly what I expected.

DAY 2: the kids
Read day 1 and repeat last paragraph. Wake up early to all 3 kids in the bed with ya. Add several loads of laundry, the Cartoon Network on TV, 3 games of backgammon with my 9 year old nephew, clean the kitchen 4 times before 2 in the afternoon... and just try... try... to get them to take a nap while I write this. Hmmmmm... at least they are sitting down watching cartoons. And... I've only heard my name 6 times as I type. The big question of the day, "when does the next disco party start?" Answer: after you take a nap and after Cass gets home from work. "Why?" Because I said so... "Because WHY???" Because I am the leader of this tribe and what I say goes... "Ohhhhhhh.... why are you soooooo funny...?" Because as the tribal leader that is my job... "you mean you are getting paid?" Nooooo... I do this for free. "Why?" Hmmmmmm... good question... very good question.... let's say that the reward I get is an internal one... "Oh.... what does internal mean?" It means inside yourself... "You mean... like your guts?" Yep. Like my guts.

Later this afternoon, the 13 year old arrives. Should make for a lively evening to add another dancer to the mix.

August 23, 2000DAY 3: the kidsAwaken to the 2 youngest jumping in my bed. The two oldest boys are downstairs asleep in the living room. Last night they were yakking until only God knows when. I told them they would be suffering for it today because they were getting up when I did. Although last night they said, "no problem..." they are clearly dragging today.

Otherwise, read day 1 and repeat last paragraph and then throw in some, "I'm telling... you're going to get into trouble... he hit me... she won't stop < fill in the blank >... they won't let me < fill in the blank >... etal.

I made them breakfast this morning. French toast. The dog ended up getting about a quarter of it. An hour later and everyone is hungry again... so, it's cookies and juice before lunch. As I type this, the 2 youngest are watching cartoons while the older boys play monopoly in the wing. It's semi-controlled chaos at best.

Sista called and said she was getting a ton of stuff done. Well then... good for her! Here I am doing what she usually does everyday... and feeling like I am accomplishing very little in the process. The house is a wreck and I'm chasing my own tail trying to keep things in some sort of order. I have a newfound appreciation for my sis and mothers around the world...

Cass worked again today. No doubt she'll be tired when she gets home because the boys rough-housing didn't help her to sleep last night. That's all I need is a crabby girlfriend and 4 overly tired and cranky kids tonight...

DAY 4: the kids
OHMYGOD! I have no time to myself... BUT I am having a ton of fun with the kids!! AND... I slept better last night than I have since they've been here.

Today... the big event is: the tribal body painting experience and the bonfire. After dinner we'll all go outside and paint ourselves and each other... < and YES... I have done this before - but NOT with the kids! > ... they think the idea is utterly cool and have been talking about it all morning. Tomorrow, the 6 of us are going to the zoo.

The house is a wreck and I can't believe it... I can't believe it because I am starting not to care.

DAY 5: the kids
Last night I sent the picture posted above to my sista with the caption, "You are related to me and you can't do a thing about it!!!" < today she's still cracking up >

Last night we didn't have a bonfire because the mosquitos were too thick out back. So, we cranked up the music, lit the torches and had a fire in the chiminea in the courtyard. As you might have noticed, I had far too much fun. Maybe more fun than the kids did! In fact, I think we might be tiring them out. Maybe a little anyway...

The 13 year old is now back home... he missed his buddies his age! Plus, he's not used to have 3 kids tagging him like white on rice. The kids did make him an honorary big brother before he left... that put a smirk on his face. But I know he didn't get his usual amount of sleep while he was here... the kids wouldn't leave him alone.

We're headed off to McDonalds Play land for lunch... the gas station... the bank... then to the zoo... then to the dollar store... then back home... laundry... cleaning... and probably, more cartoons on the TV and more Super Mario in the wing... followed by more baths because, you know - baths are more fun here than at home.

Sista is heading out for a day of canoeing and a 2 day overnight camping experience without the kids. Yesterday Grandma < my Mom > stopped by to see everyone. She asked the smallest boy if he missed his Mom and he said, "No... I am having way too much fun here!"

Early tomorrow, Cass is headed off for another family reunion out of town. The kids and I will be here all day unsupervised... I wonder what kind of trouble we'll get into? ... now there's a thought to ponder.

Day 6: the kids
Huh! And here I thought I wouldn't have time to write during the kids stay. Damn! I've actually written much more than usual this month. I wonder how long that'll last... ya know... once I get back into the swing of things. Once I get back around the noisier tool collection, I generally seem to drop off. But... maybe that is not really true... WHY? How about because the kids are screaming and jumping in the room as I type.

Today has been a hotbed of activity. In and out of the house. The door leading to the courtyard must have slammed 100 times if not more. I'm trying in vain to pick up the house so that I don't have to spend the day I have off after they leave cleaning... but, I'm afraid I will not have much luck there either. Soooooo... as long as I can get the major chunks picked up, I can detail later. Like on Monday... my last day off.

Last night the 2 youngest came in from outdoors with 3 suckers from the neighbor. We laughed about it because this is the same neighbor that feeds my dog. And the dog expects it. He has a routine of going over there between 5:30 and 6:30 and barking at the patio door while standing on the rear deck. She always has treats for him. The kids knew this, so last night they followed the dog over there and stood on the deck looking in and got free candy. Of course, then they run back in and say, "look what WE have!" and, well... we knew where it came from. The wonderful retired lady next door.

It didn't take them long to consume the candy. And it didn't take them long to say they were heading outside again, into the courtyard to play. Welllllllll... about 2 minutes later they come running back inside saying, "look, look what we have!" They EACH had 2 more suckers in their hands! I said, "did you go over there and ask her for more?" to which the answer was two big smiling faces proudly displaying their suckers... YES!!! Then, I asked them if they said, "thank you" and they looked at each other and ran back out the door to go thank her... while we shook our heads, smiled and waited to crack up laughing after they were out the door.

This activity included yet another disco party late in the day. Earlier that day, the kids and I hung around the house and talked about all sorts of things. The planets... the Hubble telescope... where oil comes from... the difference between frogs and toads... love... the importance of values... how to plant watermelon seeds... sunspots and how they can affect communication satellites... volcanoes... hurricanes... wildfires... architecture... clouds... birds... puddles... and then some...

...hmmmmm. Seems they are curious about everything. They aren't much different than me.

When I was growing up I had the most remarkable grandmother who spent time with me and answered all of my questions as well as making me think about things. I credit her with a very large part of who I am today. And, although I only had her in my life for 13 short years the impact she made in my life is so hard to describe in words alone. I still miss her today.

When I hear people say, "blood is thicker than water," I cringe because I'd have to say that they are somewhat ill informed. You see... my grandmother adopted my mother at birth... so in that reality, we didn't share blood. What she did share with me was FAR more important... she shared her love with me and her time. She taught me so much that I am thankful for... something "blood" doesn't automatically give.

To me, grandmother WAS "blood"... the real kind... ...the kind that flows through your heart.

Day 7: the kids
Today after making cereal, ramen noodles, and teaching the 9 year old how to make a grilled cheese sandwhich, he asked me while we were standing at the stove, "are you glad we're leaving today?" To which I answered, "nooooo... and why would you ask me that?"ohhhh, I thought you'd get sick of us... "Nope... I had fun and besides that, I'd never get sick of you..." hmmm... never? Never ever ever ever?"OK then pal... let's not push it, eh?" to which we smirked in unison with an acknowledging eye lock.ich we smirked in unison with an acknowledging eye lock.

It's mid afternoon. The kids are now gone. The week flew by. This week long event is now officially on again for next year.

Damn. Here I go again... I feel a rant coming on so I head for the keyboard.

Cass and I went out to dinner last night. After we returned home she checked her e-mail. She got a letter from her ex who told her that her father committed suicide. My response was OHMYGOD CALL HER NOW... YOU HAVE TO CALL HER... SHE NEEDS YOU... and so she did.

I have never met her ex girlfriend, but I cannot say I am not familiar with this story. Cass picked up the phone and I immediately began to feel uncomfortable and began pacing around the house. I remembered the night I found out about my own father's suicide. The numbness returned. I paced into the kitchen and stared at the tile on the floor. The one I pounded with my fist after dropping to my knees upon hearing the news. I felt that hollow thing again. I felt that shock all over again. I found myself feeling too paralyzed to cry.

I wanted to scream and I couldn't. It wasn't there. I wanted to run away but I know I can't run fast enough to lose myself. I felt the anger and confusion returning. I mentally acknowledged that what I am going through sporadically < still > is very, very normal... yet I can't help but to feel pissed off about it.

For one... I never chose this. If it was a choice I made it would most certainly be easier to deal with the consequences. I hate this part of my life my father left me. I am sooooooo angry at him and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing. How do I lay this unrest to rest? It won't fucking go away. And it hurts so damn much. It still hurts so damn much. I have to learn to live with it.

People kill themselves every damn day. It is the truth. Sadly, that truth touches so may of our lives. Suicide fucking sucks. It sucks because someone decides to make a choice. A choice that leaves no choice for you. A choice that, at times, leaves you feeling like you are the walking manifestation of dead yourself. Having this experience in common with people is not a great feeling, but there are soooooooo many of us who can relate to it.

I want my old self back. Yet, I am afraid she has dissipated and morphed into something rather awkward and will never return. I wish I could forget about all of it. I wish I could throw it away because it is so grotesque and unwelcome. Like a cactus needle lined cloak that materializes on your back periodically - no matter how you move it's a big damn burden.

Oh, hell. That is my hell. Fortunately, I can talk about it and write about it. Yet there are times that I wonder if that is a good thing or not. Today I am not certain about that at all. I secretly hope this is all being amplified by PMS... ;^)

Finally, today - alone in the house... I cried... and it had been a very long time since I did that, that is... if I don't count the crying Cass has said I've done in my sleep.

OK. I'm better. Kinda. Sorta. Welllll... maybe...... not all the way. Alright then... a little tiny bit pissy then. Do ya feel better knowing? Hmmmmm... WHY am I pissy? More shit. But, different shit. Unlike same old shit. But still... shit.

The central air conditioning isn't working right. The system will run with the "fan" switched on in the house, but not on its own on "auto". Something is wrong with the switch or wiring on the unit outside. While I'd try most things... I don't intend to mess with it. I don't want to know how to discharge the capacitator any more than I want to do it and chance getting the last shock of my life. It's gotta be a switch or something because the only thing it doesn't do is cycle on the fan in the house... when I override it manually it works fine. It's still pushing cold air through the vents. So... it's not the coolant either.

There. Now shouldn'tI feel better? I've isolated the problem. Plus I can still make it work.

NO. I don't feel better. In fact if your comprehension was good, you would have picked up on the fact that I am feeling pissy. Agitated. Cranky. Mad. It wouldn't have mattered if I could have fixed it. I would have still been pissy. I know.

And then... GET THIS... there is NO butter in the house. None. Zip. Zero. Frickin' nada. That fact makes me pissier. Because I have fresh squash from the garden. And I don't even feel like going to the store. That's right. I don't feel like going to the store BECAUSE I am pissy. And LOOK AT THIS... we don't have any lettuce either! The closest store doesn't even have it.

While I don't know about you - with me... PMS rears it's ugly self ONLY on occasion. Normally I don't have such a pissy attitude. OK... that's if ya don't count ALL the stupid other PMS related stuff. Like, running into things < like the corners of desks > with your hip bones, or, opening a cupboard door straight into your forehead. To me, it doesn't count unless you have the pissy attitude.

OK. I can forget about it. You might not be able to. The pixels in cyberspace exist. Can I do anything about that other than edit my html? It's not etched in stone... and, pixels don't count, do they? Hmmmmm.... I have the power to wipe it out. Yet, I didn't. I haven't. I won't. I promise.

To hell with it... it's indicative of the month. The month I've written the most. BECAUSE... it's I wasn't SO busy busting my ass on this house. I had time to relay - at the very least - a PART of what was actually going on with me. A SMALL part. The in-between stuff. And, while I may know NOTHING of you... that's your choice that you don't have the balls to write.... :^) ... LOL...

How often I have been told that I am intimidating anyway. Forget the PMS stuff.... but... it's true. In REAL life even. Perhaps that transcends into cyberspace. Maybe? BUT, in all actuality THAT couldn't be further from the truth...

... I don't bite... I only growl. And, YES - I have references.