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September 6, 2001

After a day filled with complex algorithms, thermonuclear computer glitches, inconsequential data periodically interrupted with small talk regarding small-time political meanderings and big talk regarding environmental matters... I am home. Back at the compound.

The day wrapped up yet another study of coefficient drag between my fingertips and the keyboard. Small successes add up. One day at a time.

The big bug today is that I forgot a disk in the machine at the office. I had written during a few breaks earlier today and, well... I can't recall what the hell I was talking about. I mean - what I was writing about. Maybe it'll come to me... maybe it won't.

Oh. Yeah. I was talking about the work completed over Labor Day.

I busted major construction booty here during the holiday. Seven windows are now trimmed out complete with the extension jambs... the baseboards are in place in the front room and 2 interior doors are trimmed out. For a change, I felt pleased with my accomplishments. For a change, I got more done than I thought I would. THAT in and of itself is a remarkable occurrence. It wasn't familiar but, hey... I liked it. I liked it very much. I wouldn't mind if it happened again. I could take it. I could take it and I promise that I'd still act surprised.

Alright then. Back to earth. My laboring isn't over. I know that. And, I don't feel bad because there is no bubble here to burst. Things don't always go as planned. Hardly ever. Nearly never. And, there's generally always a snafu or two to throw you off. BUT... when things come together like this, they make you want to burst into song. I am certain now this is exactly how musicals were invented.

the mailbox
A couple of people wrote to me today and asked me what I thought about Anne Heche... hmmmmmm.... I had to pause to reflect not too long at all to realize that I don't really think of her at all... but, for all intents and purposes to answer that question after the Barbara Walters interview with her last night I thought this...

And, I know - I know - I know... that might sound harsh BUT... since reality TV is so popular I thought I'd just say it flat out. If I were to be socially presentable I would have to say that she appears to possibly have a serious chemical imbalance. Last night I'd say she was on a manic upswing.

Oh... to hell with what I think! I don't even know her. What do I know... all I truly know is my own < often warped > perception. Let's not delve any further than that, eh?

< stop >

It's been a long time... so, how about a: < insert drum roll here >

Sista Update
For those of you that have been reading, you've been privy to the sickening details chronicled regarding my Sista and the alleged < and use that word loosely and only because it's legally correct...> sexual abuse of her two young children; a boy and a girl, by their paternal grandmother. The issue at hand - visitation rights and alleged improper sexual contact of her dead sons children. The court crap has dragged on for several years now. Cancellations or motions to delay - whether for further examination or, for subpoenas... or... simply out-of-the-blue cancellations while sitting in court.............. they were all good and plenty.

If you've been here before, you know it's a fact that I believe these children. I have from the beginning. There is no reason in my heart or mind to NOT believe them. There are certain things that children could not make up regardless of excessive imagination. There are things that would never occur to them that did occur to them.

It's also a fact that this entire scenario makes me flat out sick < and angry > beyond words.... but.... I was wrapping up a hectic, but OK day. I'll just say that. I have much to do. Getting pissed off tonight isn't going to help me. And, it sure won't help me sleep.

Tomorrow is another court case at 8:30 a.m.

Each time we hope this will soon be over. Each time we've been disappointed at the slothfulness of this system of "justice" that we have. Therefore- I slam my handcrafted gavel down and judge the system to be seriously fucked up.

But who am I?

Do I have a better idea? Can I fix THAT? Hmmmmmmm...... not tonight. I don't feel like probing the ol' cranium quite that hard tonight. Maybe another day. Maybe not.

In the meantime... let's see what happens. I'll post results tomorrow evening.

Right now... my fingers are crossed that there will even be results.

September 7, 2001

The court case was postponed AGAIN.

When there is a new date, I'll let you know. I'm feeling tired after a long week and I won't even bother to bitch about this delay. One word regarding it: ridiculous.

What's on the weekend agenda around here?
I can assure you that the docket is full. There's housework to be done, yard work and of course - plenty of handyma'am work. Hopefully I will get some good sleep tonight.

The first real problem I need to address over the weekend is in regard to the bad black boy dog Booda. Recently, he has been jumping over the nearly 5 foot kennel fence. The last 2 days I pulled the car into the driveway only to see him happy to see me... even though he knew I was less than happy to see him. He couldn't help himself but to happily greet me. Of course, the minute he recognized the ticked off look on my face, he slunk down like he had received a beating. I pointed my finger at him and he immediately went belly up on the ground. It's as if he knows this makes me feel like laughing even if I don't.

He escaped last night and woke me up barking about something. Something and I didn't care what. Wildly barking. And Tasha is also barking because she remains in lockup. It's the kind of barking that makes you wanna scream, "shut the fuck up - I'm trying to sleep... you jerks!" Instead of yelling, I get up groggy and head outside. Of course, the minute I open the door to the Outback, Tasha shoots out of there like a damn racehorse.

It's 4 a.m. and I'm outside in the dark with two Pit Bulls that are galloping rampantly throughout the yard. After five minutes of silently waiting and listening to them fleeing through brush and grass, I say to hell with that. They are quiet and I go back to bed and leave them both out. They went back in the Outback without incident by 6 a.m. I'm certain they felt like they had gotten away with something.

All I know is that I can't allow my muscle bound Pit Bull to sail the neighborhood at will. Especially when I am not home. This is a real problem since I will be leaving to go to Arizona in a little over a month from now. When I go I plan to have my sister and a friend stop over a few times and check on them - let them run and give them fresh water and food if they need it. He cannot be running loose.

Thank God that Tasha can't scale the fence. I doubt she ever will. Why? because she needs help getting her rear up into the back of the truck.

Yep. She's a girly Pit Bull. A frail little flower.

September 9, 2001

Here I am writing.

September 11, 2001

America is under siege.
 

9:15 a.m.
Breaking news this morning as 2 airplanes hit the New York Trade center towers in an apparent dual kamikaze terrorist act.

There was immediate speculation regarding the possible Usama Bin Laden < also spelled: Osama Bin-Ladin > connection. Regardless of how you spell the name, this man finances his terroristic hatred of Americans. It doesn't matter if they are dressed in military uniforms or as civilians. In 1998 he warned us of this due to the American role in ANY military attack of Iraq.

Terror hits home. It was only a matter of time. On June 11, 1998 Bin-Laden stated that, "we predict a black day for America."

Regardless of who takes "responsibility" for these acts, they are clearly acts of hatred. It is an act of war. If Bin-Laden is behind this, that cowardly bastard needs to be found.

11:00 additional terror
The pentagon has been hit by a plane, there were reports a car bomb exploded, a plane crashed near Camp David, MD.... and another crashed in Somerset, Pennsylvania.

Like most people, I am in shock. I'm wondering if this is all that will happen here. This is a tragedy of immense proportions. The repercussions will be with us for a very long time.

Today I really wish I could be with M and the boys. This makes me feel very vulnerable.

35 days seems like a long time.

September 17, 2001

Like most people, I've been mourning the innocent victims of the recent terrorist attacks. That is why I haven't been writing.

I can't believe that this horror has become our reality. For the last 6 days, I've been in a fog. It certainly took the focus off how mad I was at my dogs - mainly Booda. What happened the weekend prior to the tragedy was that he was being a complete shit and not listening to me at all. An old friend of mine stopped over unexpectedly and she left her little dog in her truck and came inside the house. While we were talking my Booda jumped the fence and scratched the shit out of her truck - every damn side EXCEPT for the tailgate.

Of course, he's a dog and doesn't understand anything about paint jobs. All he was interested in was Sheba who was in the truck and barking at him. I was really pissed off about it, but, by then - the damage was done. My insurance deductible will cost me 250 bucks to fix the truck.

I'm not mad anymore. And, that is exactly how I am. Something happens - I get extremely pissed off and worked up about it and then it's over. I suppose you could say I am immediately reactionary. But, don't tell me that when I am having my fit.

Oh, well. I can't be accused of holding back. I'm not one to quietly simmer or seethe - although... I used to be just like that. A sort of "make no waves" kind of person. I held things in. I learned to do that throughout my childhood. I unlearned that about the time I moved into this place. I can't tell you why, yet I've certainly become much more expressive. I don't get mad that often but, when I do, it ain't pretty. Yet, I'm not a candidate for an anger management class. In fact, most of the time when I get mad - I'm mad at myself.

So.... after the terrorist attacks, I decided that the scratched up truck was not the end of the world. I couldn't see getting rid of Booda because of it - BUT, I will say that I honestly thought of it. He was driving me nuts with his fence climbing tactics and his keeping me awake barking half the night. Go without sleep long enough and, well... you know what that can do for you. Not much.

Saturday I spent the day in the barn going through everything. I've got a huge pile to throw out and another to take to Gail's house for a rummage sale in October before I see M.

While I worked in the barn, the dogs were alternating between laying around and visiting me for some attention. They seemed calmer than usual. It was September 15th and it was Tasha and Booda's first birthday. While I wasn't about to bake them a cake, they would get some chicken when I took a break to cook. So... late in the afternoon, I did just that.

2 minutes after I sat down at the table to eat....

The next thing I heard were my utensils falling to the plate and the sound of my feet propelling me toward the whoosh and creak of the screen door. By the time my shoes took me across the gravel and reached the end of the driveway, the car was pulling away.

Tasha was wide eyed and running around in circles. There were two bicyclists across the street about half a block away. The woman pedaled toward me and said, "...was that your black dog?" The first words out of my mouth was, "OHMYGOD ...where is he?" as I visually scanned the ditch for his body.

"Ummmmmmm.... he ran across the street and then ran through there." The "there" she pointed to was my yard. OK... Thanks...

I ran into the yard with Tasha who was now crying and running back and forth like she was tracking him. We first headed to Outback and entered the open door. My heart was beating in my throat as I half expected to find him splayed open upon the floor.

Nothing. No Booda.

Next I follow Tasha through the trails. I am calling him. What am I going to do?

After frantically searching the yard and the surrounding area, I lock Tasha up in the Outback and go in the house to call M. I was shaking like a leaf and she wasn't home. I called Gail and she didn't answer. She called back a few minutes later and said she was heading over.

Before she got to my house, I jumped in the truck and canvassed the neighborhood. I asked everyone I saw if they had seen a big black dog running. Nobody had. Shit.

I am most worried that he is hurt and I am not there for him. That he is laying somewhere and can't come to me or make a sound. I am certain that I will never see him again. He's probably dying. I mean, DAMN! The sound of the BAM after the screech that I heard through windows that were shut... I knew he was hurt bad. There was no blood on the road but he probably had internal injuries and would just go somewhere to die. SHIT. I might not even be able to find his body to bury him in the yard. My mind was racing as I felt the heat of tears streaming down my face coupled with an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. It was dusk as I released Tasha from Outback and decided to torch the pile of wood in the fire pit out back.

Gail arrived with her dog Hannah and we looked around the yard again before it got too dark. Every now and then I would call loudly for him... something which only seemed to make Tasha more nervous, but, something I felt I had to do.

What's it gonna be next? The past week was hard enough. I did NOT need this addendum to it.

The fire was hot and the stars were bright in a clear sky. It was cool enough to truly appreciate a fire. Gail and I began talking about the events of the week when out of the darkness - he appeared. "There he is," she said.... "huh?" I was taken completely by surprise. The dog I had given up for dead appeared before me. I sat on the grass and called him. He limped over to me out of breath and draped his body across my lap. He was shivering and in some obvious pain, but, he quickly calmed down as I stroked his face.

I couldn't believe he was back. The dog I had basically given up for dead was here with me. The same dog I could have killed myself a week ago. The same dog that turned one year old today with his sister Tasha.

Worried that he may have suffered internal injuries, they were both allowed to stay in the house overnight for the first time.

Unfortunately, they learned two new words because of that stay. Words that they instantaneously developed meaning for . . . . . .

September 18, 2001

Booda is still limping around but is doing OK, eating normally and wagging his tail. He's got a few abrasions about his body but nothing major. No broken bones or anything. I think the fact that he is very muscular saved his life, if it was Tasha she may not have been as lucky. For the time being, the injury has kept him from any attempt at fence climbing. Fine with me. Very fine. Much to his annoyance, Tasha is harassing him again... jumping and biting and play fighting with him. She persists even though his responses are minimal. It seems her level of respect for his accident was limited to 2 days. His current condition gives her a distinct advantage.

I am still in shock over the terrorist acts. THOSE BASTARDS. I find the depth of their hatred revolting. I cannot hate with half of the hate they harbored, I can't because I don't possess that evil heart. I am outraged people such as this have a place within the human race. I have to wonder what in the hell makes a person this way. I can't help but to wonder. Especially because I have the ability to feel compassion and tolerance for diversity of all types... but - this act in itself exceeds those bounds and has left my head spinning. I'll never understand it. I'll never fully accept it. Yet, I suppose that in comparison to their apparent cold hearts, I feel tremendously blessed.

They plotted this act. I find that unimaginable. They lived amongst our people and educated themselves here to ultimately perpetrate their wicked deeds. On the outside, they fit in. On the inside is where their differences lie. The hostility within them is something I cannot fully fathom. And, top all of that off with the religious zealotry that allows you to believe that you are committing these acts in the name of God. What the hell is that?

This has been an emotionally wrenching week for so may of us. I've felt sadness to rage and all things in between < including fear >. There are not words to describe some of what I have been feeling.

Earlier today, I visited a site written by my web friend "loginasme" - and, in reading her journal entry dated September 16th... I echo her sentiments completely. In fact, I couldn't have said it better myself.

So.... I didn't.

September 22, 2001

Early evening and I sat down at the computer to type. As soon as my ass hit the seat, I realized that the weather channel was blaring a muzak rendition of, "betcha by golly wow." I'm not sure what could be more annoying than that so, I get up and turn the TV off. Flip a cd in and listen to Alicia Keys.

Yeah baby. Now that's more like it.

What in the hell did I do today? Work of course. Worked while I thought about the state of the world. Not only can I not get those images replayed over and over of the World Trade Center tragedy out of my head... but, I think about the families and friends of the people gone and the pain they are in. My own pain cannot be compared to what they are going through - yet, I have greatly suffered from this. I took these events very personally. Many of us did. Probably most. I'd often felt like living in America was akin to living in the land of milk and honey because we had everything here. Particularly, we had our freedom. And there wasn't a doubt in my mind as to why people from other countries would want to live here. If I didn't live here, I'd want to.

Yeah, I would want to live here. I love America. Certainly NOT because of Levi's, McDonalds, Coca-Cola and the like... but, those symbols < and others > are represented worldwide, and, there are many people in other countries who want those things because of US. Those things < on the surface anyway > do represent America in many cultures. Yet, there is not a product that represents our freedom better than our flag.

We were sucker punched. That's the ONLY way this could have happened. Fucking lunatics.

My mixed feelings are coming to the surface now. While I feel we should go after terrorists, there seem to be many people connected with this all over the damn globe. And while the majority of the known terrorists that hit us recently were of a particular ethnicity - globally, not all of the terrorists are. If they were all the same, they'd be easy to find - like if they were all bright green or something - bingo motherfucker. We'd have ya. You'd be so easy to find.

BUT... these people don't stick out like a sore thumb. This will be no simple mission.

While we are off venturing into the lands of others on this terrorist eradication delegation, we'd better be minding the store here at home. The civilian population is at risk. People who have little value for their own lives < suicide nuts > certainly don't give a damn about ours. That's been proven.

World peace seems to be a dream. So, to fight back - I am making my own life as peaceful as possible. That is a mission I can undertake.

One day at a time.

And, speaking of days... 24 and counting down.

September 23, 2001

Alright. I'm still stunned in the aftermath of the horrible recent events, but... I am going to try not to dwell on it and get on with my life.

There are plenty of thoughts in my head about this along with "what if" scenarios... I don't want to throw everything out onto this global platform. Beside that, there are enough people doing just that. Enough of us are talking. Sometimes I think we say too much. And, in this instance... I feel that it could be used against us. For that reason alone - I will not give my fear center stage. I will not allow my thoughts to evolve around the evil perpetrated by a few... but, I will look for the good in many.

So... just because I'm not writing about this, it doesn't mean I don't have further thoughts and feelings about it. I do. But, there is a time and a place for everything.

September 26, 2001

Winter is coming. I can feel it just around the corner. But, it's only the first week of fall? Welllllllll.... technically it is. But... winter is the second coming. Once the night chill hits, I begin to mourn another summer passing. Seems I'm there a little bit earlier than usual. Blah.

Patches of color are appearing on select trees. None in my yard, but I did notice some in the city. Perhaps the trees there are more progressive. Or, it could be dumb luck. Whatever it is it'll hit my yard soon. The compound will not escape it. Once again, I failed to construct the biosphere.

I've got plenty to do before winter hits. Hell... I've always got plenty to do. This is old news. I don't even know why I bother to say it. But, as a new winter approaches... the shed near the Outback needs to be restocked with firewood. The seasoned oak that is in the pile on the ground will be sorted and neatly stacked. Hopefully, I will not encounter many snakes or mice within the pile. That could put the job off. That could result in a tarp over the pile on the ground. THAT is something I'd rather avoid. I wouldn't find that aesthetically pleasing since all of my tarps are of the bright blue plastic variety. Yuck on that a lazy ass alternative. I have this thought every season.

My new computer is a joy. In comparison to the problematic albatross in storage, this sucker rocks. Except that my DVD player unexpectedly shot out the empty drawer < entirely unprovoked > and began to smoke. After shutting it down, it didn't want to turn on again right away. I could smell the burnt electronics. When it did get it back on, the CD R/W wouldn't do anything either... so, I called the service department and removed the DVD drive from the bay and sent it in for replacement. It's the first time I bought a new machine and anything went wrong. I would have been screwed though if I wouldn't have known how to remove the drive. The tech told me to take it to someone and have them remove it. I'm sure that I would have been charged something for this service anywhere... fortunately, the handyma'am saved a few bucks there. I am truly fearless with a tool in hand. The new drive arrived yesterday and is now installed - everything is working as it should. Subsequently.... life is wonderful.

YET... as far as money goes, this has been an expensive month. With the dentist and no dental insurance, the dog/the truck and the 250 dollar deductible... top it off on Monday when I got a cell phone bill for a few hundred dollars! SHEEEEEEEEEEE it. Guess I need to be paying closer attention to that! Anyway... I didn't actually get mad about it, it seemed appropriate for the month. I felt bad about it.... but, not bad enough to get that upset. In fact... it is nearly laughable.

I said nearly.

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copyright 1998 - 2000diary of a mad handyma'am an anonymous cyberspace diary & property of the mad handyma'am
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