The Narcissistic Squirrel

There is one squirrel that has adopted our back yard as "his". We have several squirrels that visit our yard every day but this little guy is easy to recognize. He is smaller than all the other squirrels. His coloring is somewhat lighter and his tail is always jerking. He must get his meth somewhere and then come here because he cannot stand still. And he streaks around the back yard like lightening. And his acrobatic prowess far surpasses any of the other squirrels. He can jump higher and climb better and he loves to hang upside down in trees, on top of the house from the rain gutter, even on the table cloth on the outside table. Seriously, this guy isn't going to have a long life, his heart will not be able to take it.

Several times this squirrel has jumped onto the wall at our kitchen window. He must have grown grippers as well as nimble feet because he can hang onto the siding and climb up like Spiderman. His goal is to climb high enough so he can dive onto the homemade bird feeder that hubby made. Remember the micro tray that hubby made into a bird feeder?

I can hear the scratching and climbing from where I sit at my computer in the next room, so I get up and pound on the big kitchen window and shake my finger at him. He deems to look my way and I swear it looks like he is laughing at me because he just continues toward his goal. So I open the back door and yell at him. He will not get down. So I walk out there and tell him to get down. He does but then he jumps into the large pot and tears up the plants and runs far away and stops and looks at me.
I have moved that planter a few times and he will eat anything that starts to grow in it.

Sometimes he will jump down and almost stomp his feet and run into the bushes at the side of the yard and pull and shake the bushes like he is having a truly horrible hissy fit. Then he turns around and runs back and jumps on the wall and I go out and we start all over.

No wonder I am tired.

A Fork Is Just A Miniature Shovel

Sometimes I catch myself when I am eating and it seems like I am just shoveling it in as quickly as I can. Especially salad. It is easy to scoop up a forkful and throw it in the endless pit. Today I was eating salad and hubby and I were playing dominoes as we ate. I became aware of how much trouble it was to take one forkful at a time. How much easier it would be to have a giant spoon. I actually thought it would be a good idea to scoop my salad with a tablespoon, just think how much more I could pack in at one elbow bend!

If I had a miniature shovel, I could run a chain through the handle and wear it around my neck. Quite a novel accessory and plenty of gossip fodder if I wear it out to dinner. Can you imagine the other patrons sneaking sideways glances and pretending they don't see the shovel at work. Ah yes, I'm gonna add the mini shovel to my Christmas wish list. Perhaps hubby would be willing to accessorize and wear matching chain with a hatchet to cut our meat. Too much, what do you think? Maybe we should take a little vacation from Stephen King novels.

The All Day Boat

This was a new experience. She had been fishing on half day boats but this was the first fishing trip on an all day boat. The fishermen and women boarded the large fishing boat the night before so that they could begin fishing at the crack of dawn. The boat headed down the coast. It would take a few hours to reach the specified destination, so many people disappeared below deck to sack out on the bunks.

She was too excited to sleep. One of the boat attendants was taking orders for breakfast or burgers in the galley. She was always up for a hamburger so she ordered a burger with grilled onions and plenty of French Fries. She ate French Fries every day and did not tire of them. She expertly mixed ketchup and mustard, swirling it with the French Fries.

At first light more people appeared topside. It was funny to watch some of the big macho anglers running to the side of the boat and losing their breakfast overboard. Her stomach was not the least bit queasy. She rested on one of the long fiberglass benches at the back of the boat, dozing intermittently. By the time the captain announced there was plenty of fish nearby, she was rested and satiated and felt a huge smile spread across her face. She sipped a cold Coke and unpacked her fishing gear.

None of the fishermen and women were professionals. For some, deep sea fishing was a new experience. Fishing lines became tangled and some people were still nauseous, unable to participate in the free for all casting off the sides and back of the boat.

She took her time and enjoyed baiting her hook and casting off the side. After bringing in a few fish, she felt the jerk of the fishing rod and knew this was going to be a big one. In fact, she brought in the largest fish with the highest weight on that all day boat. She won the jackpot of the day that more than paid for the cost of the fishing adventure. This was a far cry from her first time fishing when she casted from a boat and proceeded to throw the rod and reel into the water.

She rolled up the hem of her jeans, made arrangements for the cleaning of her fish,
and sashayed off the boat past all the powerful looking men who congratulated her as she left the boat. She was only nineteen years old and the only one on the All Day Boat who arrived without a companion. But she took home more than she had imagined.

Why I Can't Do Sundays In My City Yet

It became clear to me that every Sunday brought unhappiness and discomfort into my life. The first time I noticed I had trouble on Sundays I was newly married and my then husband was at work. I could not settle down. I tried to read, then I tried taking a walk, and then listened to music. I would disappear within myself. I had been doing that all my life so I could disappear at will. I learned years later that I would disassociate.

Fast forward many years and many relationships and many disappointments and I am married to my hubby. He and I had shared every single thing about each of our pasts with each other for two years before we got married. So hubby knew me better than anyone ever had.

When I would go through my Sunday discomfort, hubby was at a loss and thought that by leaving me alone to get over my own stuff he was doing the right thing. But it seemed to make it worse. So then hubby, who was awake and up before I was, would return to bed and hold me on Sunday mornings. We found that it helped. No one had done that before either.

One day we were talking about my agitation and discomfort on Sundays and hubby said "Isn't that when the uncle would come to stay on the weekends?" It was like a bulldozing ball had knocked the breath out of me. It finally made sense.

I had been uncomfortable for so many years because I did not have anyone to walk me through it. When I was about four years old I tried to describe what was happening to me to my mother and she said not to worry, it wouldn't happen anymore. But the uncle continued to come every weekend for two years. Not only did I lose trust in my mother, I wasn't a little girl and I began to learn how to disappear. So much so that as an adult I was at the dentist and he asked me how I did that and I asked did what and he said I seemed like I was hypnotized.

Things have come a long way for me. I can rest on Sundays and I am not fidgety and anxious. I can wake up on a Sunday and look forward to the day, not look at the day with dread. Of course I remembered the weekends the uncle would visit but I had put all that behind me. I thought I had.

So now you know one of the reasons I believe my hubby and I were meant to be together. To be with him wholly and completely. No secrets. No fear that he might find out something or use something against me. And he was able to help me see things that I had not been able to do before. I thought I was going through life not using my childhood as an excuse for any of my actions. But the truth was that I never really dealt with it, I just stuffed it down so far that I wouldn't have to take care of it. Avoiding and not facing truth.


For a long time I have wanted to participate in Unknown Mami's Sundays In My City meme, but I am not there yet. I look forward to the day that I can joyfully take photos of the little town where we live and post them on my blog and enjoy that Sunday to the fullest.

Happy Surprise

The other day I mentioned to my hubby that while I was at the womens shelter we took turns picking out music in the large dining area next to open kitchen area. One evening we were helping with cooking and preparing for the family style evening meal. One of the girls put in a CD and we were sort of dancing in place as we did our food prep.

I was at the counter inside the kitchen making a huge salad with two women helping me. A song came on and I went rubbery and dropped what I was holding and started crying. Actually it turned out to be a cleansing for me because I had been holding back my emotions until that happened.

Hubby and I would play our CDs in the car and we sang together to the songs. Some songs we sang as loud as we could. This was one of them. This song was in a way "our song". We never called it that but we were instantly pulled together when this song played. If we were in different rooms and one of us played this, we ran to be together and sing it together. So this song was so much part of our relationship.

We haven't been singing in the car since summer of 2008. After the shelter I was in a little apartment of my own but would be with hubby almost every day for a few hours. We were each working on our getting healthy and also we were working on our marriage. There was never a time we would let go of the marriage but we were being cautious and working through so many things before we would live together again. We both had issues and for us this was a blessing to have time to face things and become stronger as individuals which then helped the strength of the marriage.

So a few days after I mentioned the song incident hubby reached out to me in a special way. I was sitting at my computer in the living room and from hubby's studio room I listened to his playing his guitar and he was playing his heart out. It was great. When he finished playing guitar, on high volume he played our song. I was concentrating on writing a post but the song reached me immediately and I turned my chair around and as I was getting out of my chair hubby was hurrying to me from the other room. Hubby took me in his arms and we danced in our living room. We both had tears and it was an awesome and loving and joyful dance to "our song". I was exactly where I feel at home, in hubby's arms.

Roy Rogers and Trigger

My brother is two years older than I am. He was born in southern California. Our mother took him with her to her hometown in North Dakota and I was born a couple months early in the middle of a snowstorm so I was not a native Californian. Something my brother held over my head all my life.

The first six years of my life, both parents did not work. We moved from place to place in a semi-nomadic lifestyle. Life changed for my brother and me when our parents went to work and we were both in school. During the school year we were driven to school in town by our mother and waited in the convent for school to begin and after school waited again in the convent for our mother to pick us up.

Summer vacations from school were total freedom for my brother and me. We were home alone all day and when our parents were there, the atmosphere was tense and things going on that my brother and I did not understand. We tried to stay quiet and out of the way when the parents were around.

During the day we watched television because we were instructed to stay inside and not go outside at all. This is where the problem started. My brother thought he being the elder child automatically made him the decider of what to watch. I wanted to watch Roy Rogers and he wanted to watch Cisco Kid. I wanted to eat lunch watching Sheriff John and he wanted to watch something else. We would fight about it. There was no remote so we would each keep jumping up and turn the channel. It's a wonder we didn't break the knob off! I know it appears I must have been a sweet docile youngster, but I wasn't. I would stand up to anyone, even my older brother.

Many times the argument over what program to watch went to such lengths that my brother would become enraged and run into the kitchen and grab a butcher knife and come after me. I would run around the house and eventually run out the back door and keep running. Now I not only had my brother ready to do away with me I now had disobeyed the rule of staying inside. My brother would lock the door and not let me back in.

Every time I see a picture of Roy Rogers I think of all the hours my brother and I were alone in a house out in the country unable to learn how to get along. The example we lived with was an alcoholic father who was legally blind and an emotionally unstable mother. We saw so much fighting and screaming and many times we pulled our father off our mother when he was choking her or burning her. We had mixed feelings ourselves because sometimes we wanted to be doing the same thing to her. And most of the time my brother and I didn't know what the other one was doing when our parents were there because we were each out somewhere hiding. Hiding our skinny little bodies soon became hiding our deprived hearts.

Trust

What is that feeling
The new nagging one
Who opened the door
To my heart and let it in

How did you do that
What magic did you weave
Upon my unsuspecting soul
You found my vulnerable spot

My eyes were wide open
Not letting anyone in
Keeping everyone away
A safe distance from me

Even my children mourn
That I would erect my wall
They knew beyond a doubt
I loved them to my maximum

With me for a mother
They were safe and nurtured
Something I did not have
But was natural for me to give

Was it stealth that let you in
Did you see my hidden need
How did you hear my cries
That were hidden even from me

Bless you, my dearest love
Thank you for being aware
I stand before you exposed
Gladly, joyfully give you my trust.


Graphic found on Google.

Joanna Is At It Again

Joanna at The Fifty Factor is stirring the pot again. She is having a fabulous giveaway on her blog. Hurry on over and read this post and join in the fun at Joanna's blog. Her giveaways are over the top headliners. Good luck.

What Does Age Have To Do With Being Old

When I was eighteen years old and newly married, I thought my then husband's cousins in their early thirties were so old and so wise. I looked up to them and wanted to do things like they did. The cousin's wife taught me to make lasagna. She taught me how to add bleach to the washing machine to have sparkling white clothes. For some people these little tidbits would be taught by their parents. Since those teachers were missing in my life, I needed to catch up. I didn't even know how to write a check.

When I turned thirty I was a mother of three wonderful children and I was in the process of getting a divorce. That was the only birthday that upset me. I was depressed for a week before my thirtieth birthday. My soon to be ex was living with his girlfriend and I did not have any adult friends.

I only remember my ninth birthday which I wrote about here. I remember the twenty first birthday. I remember the week of the thirtieth birthday. And that is all. No other birthdays are etched in my memory. I think that is because basically I live each day as it comes. No one day is more important or appreciated more than any other.

Lots of interesting things have taken place in my life since my thirtieth birthday. I am over twice as old now. I am married to the only man who is interesting enough and challenging enough to make each day a new day to look forward to.

Would I have been able to see into my future when I was eighteen or when I turned twenty-one hanging out with the senior citizens at the Lawrence Welk show?

I now understand that how I think about myself is what drives the getting old propaganda. I walk around the house in shorts and bare feet and am more relaxed than I had been as a young mother working to support three kids. I have time to read in peace and quiet and listen to music. I have more interest in world wide news than I ever did. I have an open mind and am encouraging of other people pursuing their dreams whether I agree with them or not. I have learned things aren't all about me. Age is how I take care of myself and how I continue to learn and grow as a woman. I have gained some perspective about what "old" is and in my opinion old only applies to leftover cheese in the frig, not to human beings. I have learned so much in my lifetime and along the way I learned to appreciate the elderly folks who have some funny stories and some wisdom to share with the younger folks.

The Big 21

The day of the big long awaited twenty first birthday had finally arrived.

This was a strange situation. She had been married three years. She had one child who was two years old. Her husband was in Vietnam. She was living with roommates of a dubious background. She spent every minute with her daughter in an apartment at the beach. Other than the time she was with her daughter, she did not have any hobbies or friends or job.

She hadn't seen or spoken with her mother for almost two years. The upcoming birthday was bringing about some sentiment and loneliness. She called her mother.

Her mother invited her to go to see The Lawrence Welk show at the Hollywood Palladium. Was this what her life had come to, no friends, no home, and spending her special twenty first birthday with old fogies at a an old folks dance?

She decided she might as well go since she had never been there and at least there would be music. One of her roommates babysat her daughter and another roommate went with her.

True, there were senior citizens in abundance at the Palladium, but there was laughter and fun and everyone was friendly and full of vim and vinegar. She danced almost every dance even if it was the Fox Trot or a waltz. And as people learned it was her twenty first birthday, she was the star of the dancing seniors. Everyone toasted her birthday and she sipped champagne and was thankful for so much in her life. Spending her special birthday with mostly strangers turned out to be another new experience and the entire room of well wishers has been a happy memory to cherish and a good lesson about preconceived notions.

Graphic found on Google.

My Mooring Lines

As I continue to change and learn and grow, it is important for me to keep my mooring lines in place. Keep them strong. As I progress in my life adventure, I cut off some lines and I need to remember to replace them to keep the core strong. I don't want to be drifting back to old behavior or falling overboard into the murky pain of the past. The goal is to live in the present, face the trials that arrive in my life, make wise choices and use the tools I have at my disposal in my twelve step program and tools I learned in therapy.

Change is inevitable, often preferable in my life. A year ago the mooring lines that were in place have been replaced with new ones. The meetings I was attending have been replaced. Therapy has been discontinued. Exercise is now an important part of my daily schedule. Blogging is consistent and healthy. These are some of my mooring lines today.

There are always about eight strong mooring lines in place in my life at a time.

Photo courtesy of towmasters.com.

Sniff Sniff Cough

Walking in the store
looking at frozen juice
Open the frozen food door
reach in for some juice

Two women pushing carts
Are now sharing my space
Nice older women
obviously friends

My eyes start itching
suddenly there is no air
My breathing is labored
Eyes are now running

The brain kicks in
I now understand
the two women near me
are reeking with perfume

I have to get away from them
Right. Now.

Hurry Hurry Uh Oh

Three years old
such a big boy
Montessori school
Three days a week

Time to pick you up
So glad to see you
Miss your sweet self
My days aren't the same

Your face has a frown
That's not like you
I give you a hug
And put you in the car

You want to tell me
But you are full of shame
You had an accident today
And you want to explain

As soon as you felt the urge
You ran to the bathroom
But you couldn't make it in time
And you figured out why

"My pee went faster than I could"
you said. I stopped on the way home
and bought you an ice cream cone.

The picture is my son at age 3.

Becoming An Adult

When she was seventeen she was informed the county court did not know what else to do with her so she was declared a legal adult. She would need to move out of the foster home where she currently resided.

Where would she go? How would she finish school? How would she live?

Too many questions and not enough experience or resources to find answers. After talking to various associates and determining that she had nowhere to go and no money to get somewhere, she called her birth mother. She had remained in contact with her mother but had not lived with her for many years.

Her mother was working in a city nine hours drive from where she was but her mother agreed to drive there and take her back to live with her.

The time in the car proved to be more interesting than she thought it would be. She and her mother talked without arguing. When a police man pulled the mother over for speeding, the young girl could not keep from interfering. While writing the ticket, the police man yapped "Lady, you passed me like I was painted on a sign". The girl, who had actually been driving for five years, albeit illegally the first three years, considered herself knowledgeable about driving. And after all, hadn't she just been declared an adult? So the girl leaned forward in the passenger seat and challenged the police officer with "Why aren't you stopping all the other people who were driving over the speed limit? She was just driving with the flow." It didn't come as a surprise that the man writing the ticket ignored her question.

After all the years of dissension, the girl realized in a blink of an eye that she had for the first time stood up for her mother. Maybe it wasn't a wise thing to mouth off to a police officer, but the fact was, the girl found herself in new territory emotionally.

Many miles later, the speeding ticket incident behind them, they found themselves in a city that was new to both of them. There were signs along the freeway that kept saying Cow Palace. The mother said maybe it was a huge dairy. They decided to visit the Cow Palace and get some chocolate milk and have a little break from all the driving.

They had to pay to park in a huge parking lot. "This better be worth it" they both said. The mother went to the ticket cage and bought two tickets. She was laughing as she walked back to where the girl was waiting. She handed the ticket to the girl and said they would be seeing a circus. This would be the first time the girl would see a circus.

The city was San Francisco which became a favorite city for the girl as she grew up. A city she returned to visit many times over her lifetime. She only lived with her mother for three months, just enough time to complete the last semester of high school and find a job and a small apartment. At seventeen years old she was enchanted with her first circus performance and three months later she held her diploma tightly in her hands. She had a job that would provide enough income to support her. She now accepted her adult status.

The Plus Side Of Having A Pet

Remember: Dogs and cats are better than children because they:

1. Animal Humor. Cat and dog jokes. Eat less.

2. Usually come when called.

3. Are easier to train.

4. Don't ask for money all the time.

5. Don't drink or smoke.

6. Don't hang out with friends who use drugs.

7. Never ask to drive the car.

8. Don't have to have the latest fashions.

9. Don't want to wear your clothes.

10. Don't need a gazillion dollars for college, and

11. If they get pregnant, you can sell their children

Pet Murphy bed found in Solutions magagazine. I like this bed for a pet. If I could have a pet, I would have one of these Murphy beds for my pet. This list in this post was found in Google one time while I was looking around for something and saved this list for today's post.

Bickering

Is it human nature to bicker and fight or is it something that is learned in early childhood?

No, hubby and I are not arguing, but we do have our moments like all couples.

In past relationships, I believed that if we fought the relationship was not good.

Growing up when I was still around my brother, we displayed a lot of anger. There were four people in that family; two were adults. But there was anger and bickering between all four members of the family. Constantly. Little kids growing up around adults fighting and hitting learn fighting and hitting. What would it be like to grow up in a calm environment?

The Right Fix

When something needs repair, it needs the right stuff. It doesn't do much good to fill in a crack in the road with flowers. Yes, it looks good, looks artsy, looks funky, whatever. But it is still not fixed.

The same for inside. When I was broken, I didn't need a bandaid. A bandaid wouldn't do the repair. What did heal the broken part of my being was hard work, honesty, determination and a sense of humor. The humor was necessary in my case because I was focused on fear and anger. I didn't accept joy into my life much less out and out humor.

Every day is special now. I laugh and play. Just waking up and breathing isn't enough anymore. Joy and humor and fun work better than a bandaid.

Tulsa Time

Takin' it easy, Dude
Just hangin' out
Snoozin' and restin'

Sighs of contentment
Smiles of satisfaction
Joy in the tranquility

Windin' down the brainwaves
Nothin' hasslin' me
All is right in my world

Livin' a simple life
Left the baggage behind
Findin' fulfillment

Don't need a clock
Time doesn't rule
The inner schedule calm

Easin' into the day
In touch with the well-being
Livin' on Tulsa time.

Fourth Of July

God Bless America

American Sign Language


Graphic courtesy of Google.

Unsolicited Advice

There's always someone who shares advice and issues warnings and likes to control conversations, isn't there? Years ago, I heard myself running around telling what I saw and joining conversations so that I could get my two cents in. One day as I was spouting on about some experience, I listened to what was coming out of my mouth. Apparently I didn't do that often enough because I didn't like what I was saying or how I was speaking. Like a know it all. Like a big britches.

Since that day I take my time before I speak. I listen first. Shock of all shocks, sometimes I see the wisdom of speaking only about what the other person is saying, no need for me to bring in some similar experience or change the focus to me. Surprising I know, it was for me too.