Momma said

 When I come to a place in my life where I am not sure which way I should go, it seems momma always pops up in my mind.  She always had the answer.  Whether she knew the question or not was usually a whole 'nother kettle of worms!  She passed before my husband, so I spent many years muddling through without her wisdom.  It is just a good thing that I lucked out and had a good, honest man in Kenny.  I do not know how I made it this far!

The one thing she did leave me with is something I will share with you.  When one of my friends or one of my husbands had disappointed me beyond belief and I expressed this to her that "I thought I knew him better than that", she said, "You never know anyone.  You know of them.  You know the part they let you see."  Those words have came back to haunt me more than once.  Sometimes it breaks my heart to know momma was always right, but she was.

I try to take tentative steps in my life and if nothing pops up in my path, I do pretty good.  I seem to have raised 6 kids who are pretty much responsible and successful and I think for the most part my life is pretty good.  I know one thing for sure, I took/take very good care of the geese !  I got the first 3 goslings when Bret was 8 years old.  He is 30 now and they are still alive.  

My plan was to sell this place when the geese were gone and travel around the country spending time with the kids and grandkids.  Not happening!  Like momma said "The best laid plans of mice and men ofttimes go astray."  I have a hard time typing because I have a cat that insists of laying on the keyboard.  I have a 2400 square foot house and this is the only place she can find to lay.

Fall is in the air and it will not be long before I am out there shoveling my way to the goose house so I can break the ice on the tank so they can drink. I buy 150 pounds of goose food a month which I unload and put in a barrel to feed them.   And I cannot even pet them!  They have never pecked me, but they are not conducive to physical contact.  Well, hell, neither is the cat!  When I try to pet her, she bites me.

So, it is 6 AM and the sun is going to pop up here pretty quick and start my day.  I guess it beats the alternative doesn't it? 

Or does it?

Just a hairy mass of molecules.

My late husband had his own way of describing the various pets we had over the years.  He called them a "hairy mass of molecules"  and that seemed to describe about any one we had.

When I married him I had a dog named Sysnyck.  She was a poodle/Chihuahua mix.  Very black and with the hair that required a groomer.  She was named after a television show that was about a drill instructor that opened a gym in the heart of gang territory in New York City. I just name my animals whatever comes to mind.  No thought for gender or looks or size.   Sysnyck lived to be 12 years old and died of kidney failure, a weakness in both of the breeds at the time.  She is buried in the front yard.

Then Kenny's sister gave us a red dingo cattle dog.  We got her the same day I peeled 3 bushels of chile, so we named her Chile.  I guess she was actually a heeler.  She was nuts about tennis balls and loved to play catch.  She played catch as long as someone would throw the ball.  Key here was it was between you and her.  You throw and she fetched.  One time we had company come and they had a couple boys about 11 or 12.  We sent them out to play fetch with Chile and they decided to toss the ball to each other.  The came in crying and terrified because Chile sent them up the tree because that was HER ball.  End of that game. 

She would play with one ball at a time.  When she was tired of the ball she would shred it and pick another.  We picked up 12 tennis balls at the flea market once and brought them home to her.  We dumped them all out on the ground.  She sorted through and got the one she wanted and the rest were put away because if we threw one of those she would not chase it.  She only wanted HER ball and when she tore it up she was ready for another.  She is in the front yard.

While Chile was still with us we got a little blond poodle since that was Kenny's choice of a dog.  Chile helped house train Tammy by standing in the flap of the doggie door so Tammy could go out and in to potty.  Damn smart dog.  Chile died before Tammy.

Next dog was another heeler named Polly.  She was white with one black eye.  She became very possessive of me and finally attacked Tammy for getting too close to me.  That was sad as we had to have Tammy put down from  her injuries.  We thought about having Polly done also, but decided to be a one dog house instead and that was what we did until the neighbor lady came dragging home a little white dog with 2 black eyes.  By this time Polly was ready for company and we pretty much lived happily until Polly passed and Elvira needed rescued.  I never knew how old she was.

Also interspersed through the years were several cats.  I only like calico cats and I only like distinctly marked Calico.  First was Charmin who lived 18 or 19 years.  Boots was Kenny's cat because he was a boy and he was gray.  He was around 15 years.  I finally got my last Calico 7 years ago.  I had a friend who named her.  Calicos are always female for some reason.  He named her Icarus.  When I explained that Icarus was a boy, he informed me that no one but me was smart enough to know who Icarus was.  So Icarus she is and is on my lap constantly.

My menagerie that is shrinking.  But memories live forever, don't they?

And Christmas is almost here again!

It is almost 5:00 AM.  Coffee is perking.  The cat is fighting me for the keyboard and life is good.  I woke up a while ago and thought back to the Christmas seasons on 5th street.  I was divorced with my little nest full of babies and they always expected Santa to come.  I was not much into church back then.  Kind of hard to work God in when I was working a full time job and 2 part time jobs to put food on the table.  I did make sure the kids got on the bus for church every Sunday.  At least most of the time.  OK.  Some of the time,  but that was a rough time for me.

So anyway, I tried to have money put aside for Christmas, and usually did.  If not there was always the credit card and that was used more often then not for Christmas.  Nothing else. I recall the first year.  I really thought Duane would come and help me, but he didn't.  I ended up the afternoon of Christmas Eve doing the shopping for Santa.  Talk about a joke.  The shelves were bare and pickings were very slim, but I ended up with my car loaded.  Not sure anyone got anything they wanted, but they did get to unwrap presents on Christmas Day.  I vowed that the next year would be better and it was, kind of.

That year I splurged and bought each of the girls a bike and Sam a trike.  By the end of Christmas Day every tire on the bikes was flat.  I heard the rumor that Sam did it because he was jealous that he did not get one, but Lord only knows what the truth was in that case.  The next year they got Susie for Christmas, the gift of a failed reconciliation.  At least they did not flatten her and she was actually kind of cute.  Debbie, Patty, and Dona wanted to take her for "show and tell" and Sam just wanted her gone.  Take her to school and leave her was fine with him.

Christmas Dinner was varied.  Sometimes it was turkey and all that stuff.  Once it was ham.  One year I let the kids choose and we had corn dogs.  I can not eat a corn dog now without thinking back to that day.  I made red chile once.  I think Coloradans call it chile beans.  I did not know what green chile was back then.

Time kind of runs together back in those days.  Seems like I was always in a money crunch, but that is what 5 kids and no education will do for you.  If I had it to do over again, I would, but there would be some rules laid down on the first date.  I strongly suspect I would not have had 5 kids, but I am not sure which ones I would send back.  In later years they had welfare programs, to help with mothers like me, but at that time it was either sink or swim.  I paid $15 a week for child care and I had some doozies.  Ida May was a friend of mom's.  She always had a pocket full of candy for the kids.  She also had a full beard so they were afraid of her.  Mrs. McIvers lasted a few months.  Then there was a lady on 6th street, but her kids were meaner than shit!  I finally found Mrs Benson, who moved across town to be close.  At the time she seemed like the answer, but now I hear horror stories.  We did survive though.

Back to Christmas.  Christmas of 2002 found Kenneth in Colorado Springs on life support.  He had been in the hospital since Thanksgiving.  Our 20th Anniversary was December 23, so I spent the night at Semper Care.  I spent a lot of nights there .  Christmas was pretty sad that year.  He died the end of January 30, 2003. Christmas has never been the same since.  Probably never will be.  Seems I always get weepy this time of year.  Hell, it seems the older I get the more weepy I get.  I tried dating a couple times, but that did not turn out well.  The first one died about the time I got to really know him.  The second one was just a jerk.  There are a lot of those out there, so I am giving up on that.

There is no tree in my house.  No decorations.  I will spend Christmas Eve at church for the morning service and the evening service.  That is how I want it.  I think this Christmas I may get out the box of cards I got when Kenny passed and read them one more time.  I have not opened that box since he died.  I may go through Mother's box also.  But who knows.  This may be the year I do something wild and crazy.  I do know that unless it snows, I will be taking a long walk along the ditch.  It is quiet there.

Surely we will talk again between now and then, but just in case, I am going to tell you

Merry Christmas and a Happy New year and grab all the happiness you can while you can!

I am not Superwoman.

I woke up this morning at my usual 3:30 and laid in bed reflecting on life as it plays out here on South Road.  I have a dumpster in my back yard and it is about 2/3 full.  I really need to either finish filling it or just call the pickup man and have it taken away.  That is when it dawned on me the reason for my indecision about a lot of things is that I am trying to save everything as well as everybody that I come in contact with in this world. I function best when I make lists and check things off as I go.  So here it is a little after 4:00 AM and this is my black and white list.

1.  I can not save the world.  The world can not save me.
2.  I can not change people.  I can change my perspective of people.

And here my list peters out.  Not doing so good, am I?  #1 is a given.  It is simple and to the point and there is no room for arguement.  I run myself ragged trying to make sure that everyone has a roof over thier head and a belly full of food, but I miss the big picture.  The world exists outside of my little realm. There are more homeless kids then just the few I see at Posada.  There are more immigrants then the few I see at Los Pobres.  And they change.  The ones I saw last year or even last month have moved on and forgotten about me.  New ones have come in their place.  I hope some where something I did or said helped someone, but I have no way of knowing.  So I move on as they have moved on.

Now as to my perspective of people.  I tend to project on people  I deal with the personna I want them to have.  Most of my friends have become my friends and stayed my friends from the first day I met them.  Frank and Clifford have been my friends since I came to this place from Kansas.  I go years without even speaking with them, but they are there and when I need something they are the first to respond.  I like to think I serve some pupose in thier life as well.

My circle of  friends changed from when I first came here and again after I divorced that husband and again after the stint in college and working at Liz's cafe in Bessemer, and another divorce.  I settled into rather a loose routine when I married Kenny.  That was when I began working in the  LGBT  and later in the AIDS venue.  After the loss of Kenny and then Mark the circle of friends morphed into the immigrant and/or the homeless sector.  I did a stint at Hospice and dabbled in the indigenous sector.  Along the way I picked up a (for want of a better word) "boyfriend".

Now what I was thinking on that little trick, I will never know.  I, once again, projected on him what I wanted him to be, which was a fine Christian believer who would not tell a lie and could always be depended on when I needed someone.  As that turned out he seemed to morph into someone I did not even know.  So while that one is dying a slow, painful death, I am re-evaluating and giving serious thought to selling everything in my garage in a yard sale.  I guess, if the people who stored it there, wanted it, they would have it.  Right?

But all that is neither here nor there and has naught to do with my life today.  Since I seem to be the "on call" person for getting donations from point A to point B, I am going to pick up a load of clothes for Sister Nancy and then come home and get out in that tin shed and get to sorting.  One pile is going to be garage sale stuff and the other is going into that dumpster.  Then I am going to start on this house.  I  have 2400 square feet of floor space crammed with stuff  I never used, will never use, and have no idea why in the hell I drug it all in here anyway!  I have 2 floor looms, for godsake!  I have more sewing machines than Singer!  I have boxes of thread for sewing, weaving, knitting, crocheting.  I have boxes and boxes of books for weaving, knitting.....you get the picture?


So there you have my life in a nutshell!  One passing thought.  Years ago I gave a plaque to my first husband.  It read "If I had known I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself."
When he died I inherited that plaque.


When next Spring comes, there is going to be a "For Sale" sign up on South Road and there is going to be an empty garage and an empty house here on this little acre.  My little Honda Fit is going to hold everything I need to finish out my days on this big blue ball.  I am trading my purse for a billfold with a debit card.  My dogs are old.  My cat is mean and I keep remembering "He who travels fastest travels light....and alone."

Good morning world!

I woke up this morning with my brother on my mind   Sometimes that just happens.  So I went into Picasa because I was wanting to find a picture of him, but then I got side tracked and that is never a good thing.  I found this picture from a year or so ago.

That made me afraid to go downstairs because I know that one came from under the deck.  So I kept looking for Jake's picture.  And I found this.  This one just made me miss my Rowdy bird.

And my sister.

And the other sister.

And Cleo

And finally I found Jake. It is sad that this is the best picture I have of him.  Well, to be honest this and one taken when he was 9 years old are the only pictures I have at all.  So, I miss him, but life goes on and the road winds over hills and down in valleys and life is just pretty much is what it is.  We miss those who are not here, but we also miss those who are.

Today is not a day I want to spend missing anyone.  I got up at 4:30 with hopes of actually getting the garden planted today, yet here I set.  Had a friend tell me the other day that the way he does it is carries a timer.  He decides he will spend 1 hour on yard work and when the timer goes off he moves on to something else.  So I am going to try that one.  First I will go spend one hour in the garden and then 20 minutes in the shower and then off to do a chore in Belmont......

The road to hell is paved with good intentions!!!