Today I was chatting up a very wise guy and I told him that I didn't like my house and he said, "And this is OK; this isn't yours and it doesn't feel like yours."
I told him that this house has a soul. He says he has felt it and asked me, "Does it like you?" I had never considered that. He told me that he feels a warm presence. He's been in when it is just cold and yet he feels warm. He suggested that I think about whether or not the soul of my rented home likes me and maybe we can warm up to each other.
I like it already.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Saturday, November 07, 2009
My brain is letting go of things it was hiding from me.
A poem came back to me today. Wordsworth's Phantom of Delight. I told you that after the fire, I forgot everything that I had learned. Phantom was a poem that a boyfriend in high school gave to me and after I was married to a jealous future ex for a few months, I bought a short anthology of poetry and artwork. (It was purchased from Nordstrom with a gift certificate from my mom. It smelled of roses.) The anthology had Phantom in it with a pretty lady depicted next to it. I memorized it. When I married my ex, he convinced me that I was too pretentious and should abandon my love of art and poetry and getting the book was a rebellion of sorts. Memorizing the poem was another rebellion since a former boyfriend had given me a copy of it and I'd had to throw it away when we got married. Since the fire, I have looked the poem up and it just wasn't resonating with me. It came today to my brain while I was listening to Pachelbel's Canon, another song that I loved back in the day. I was really happy and relieved. I was told that it would all come back, but I didn't know when. I hope it returns in droves! But where did it all go? When my snowglobe of a life was shaken, that box was completely emptied. Fortunately, it was emptied, but not burnt up. The debris is being put back into the boxes and rendered useful to me once more!
I wonder if people who suffer from memory loss feel in any way like I have. Knowing that something that I loved was lost was very hard on me. There are other things that are still gone and I know what they are, but I know that God willing that I have no problems that they will come back.
Emily is coming back, too. I folded laundry and wore my favourite quilt over my shoulders as her bird poems rustled in my head this afternoon. God gave a loaf to every bird, Hope is the thing with feathers-- but my favorite of hers speaks of the hour of lead. That also came back. The hour of lead-- that was how I felt as my house was burning and it lasted perhaps until a couple of weeks ago. Part of me woke up when my house was burning-- I felt like Sleeping Beauty as my sh-- burned and I re-processed my life.
Is it OK that I am coming out of the hour of lead only two months later? I have thought at times that I was shaking it, but having something so special come back to me tells me that I really am shaking the numbness, but at the same time, what I woke up to is still there, so I know it is real. I just really wish I didn't have to go through a flipping fire to get to where I am in the process of going.
Couldn't my destiny have greeted me at my favorite store or bakery, instead, and without the sirens and flashing lights? Would I have recognized it any other way? I don't even know what it is. I hope it is good. Maybe the good doesn't involve me so much as it does my kids or a gawker. What if one of my gawkers is a heavy smoker and saw my fire and thought, "That could happen to anyone. I guess I'll stop smoking in bed since she said the fire really liked the bedspread." I hope that there is good for the Crumpets in this and that it is an easy good, not something like, something terrible is destined to happen so the fire will teach them a resiliency to make them tougher. I've stated before, however, that the good will not come from acquiring things-- the intangibles even now make me feel happy, but nothing will replace the photographs!
I wonder if people who suffer from memory loss feel in any way like I have. Knowing that something that I loved was lost was very hard on me. There are other things that are still gone and I know what they are, but I know that God willing that I have no problems that they will come back.
Emily is coming back, too. I folded laundry and wore my favourite quilt over my shoulders as her bird poems rustled in my head this afternoon. God gave a loaf to every bird, Hope is the thing with feathers-- but my favorite of hers speaks of the hour of lead. That also came back. The hour of lead-- that was how I felt as my house was burning and it lasted perhaps until a couple of weeks ago. Part of me woke up when my house was burning-- I felt like Sleeping Beauty as my sh-- burned and I re-processed my life.
Is it OK that I am coming out of the hour of lead only two months later? I have thought at times that I was shaking it, but having something so special come back to me tells me that I really am shaking the numbness, but at the same time, what I woke up to is still there, so I know it is real. I just really wish I didn't have to go through a flipping fire to get to where I am in the process of going.
Couldn't my destiny have greeted me at my favorite store or bakery, instead, and without the sirens and flashing lights? Would I have recognized it any other way? I don't even know what it is. I hope it is good. Maybe the good doesn't involve me so much as it does my kids or a gawker. What if one of my gawkers is a heavy smoker and saw my fire and thought, "That could happen to anyone. I guess I'll stop smoking in bed since she said the fire really liked the bedspread." I hope that there is good for the Crumpets in this and that it is an easy good, not something like, something terrible is destined to happen so the fire will teach them a resiliency to make them tougher. I've stated before, however, that the good will not come from acquiring things-- the intangibles even now make me feel happy, but nothing will replace the photographs!
Thoughtful without meaning to be (Adorable child story)
When we were staying at the hotel, 7 year old Calamity Jane was just learning to speak Spanish. She was saying, "Buenos dias!" to everyone and really trying hard to show off her new skill and practice it. At the restaurant, she tried to order something and the waitress smiled and said she didn't understand her and she turned to me and rolled her eyes and said, "She doesn't speak Spanish. I'll have to try it in English." She was very annoyed even though she really didn't speak it well enough to carry on a conversation, herself.
One day she was with me at the hotel and the cleaning lady came in and CJ greeted her. The cleaning lady was/is from Guatamala and she exclaimed something very excited in Spanish. Calamity was taken off balance and turned to me and said, "She must be very smart! She speaks 'Panish!"
The cleaning lady gave her a hug and taught her the words for the equivalent of sweetheart and precious little girl, words that escape me now and were not in my head two minutes after she would leave. CJ was beaming and followed her around our rooms asking her about her country and her children. Before she left, CJ told her, "You are the importantest person EVER!"
The cleaning lady said that she made her day. She made mine, too.
One day she was with me at the hotel and the cleaning lady came in and CJ greeted her. The cleaning lady was/is from Guatamala and she exclaimed something very excited in Spanish. Calamity was taken off balance and turned to me and said, "She must be very smart! She speaks 'Panish!"
The cleaning lady gave her a hug and taught her the words for the equivalent of sweetheart and precious little girl, words that escape me now and were not in my head two minutes after she would leave. CJ was beaming and followed her around our rooms asking her about her country and her children. Before she left, CJ told her, "You are the importantest person EVER!"
The cleaning lady said that she made her day. She made mine, too.
Friday, November 06, 2009
The Mundane
I think that my life is mundane, but it is these common things that matter.
My landlord ordered a new stove for me. Thankfully, it is not from Sears. Sears takes their own sweet time in refunding you on orders that they cancel, and then they decide that instead of refunding you via credit card as they said they would, that they will mail you a check to be brought up by a comatose snail. It was mailed on the 20th... it should be here by now because I get things from all over the country in two or three days. I still don't have a portable dishwasher and it has been one month.
I don't know what is up with the stoves in my life. The one that I had had at my house had a burner knob that had come off (this happens with appliances that are more than 10 years old) and we had plans to replace the whole thing this PFD time. The one here had missing buttons. The neighbour who helps out the landlord said that the lady prior to the last tenant took off the buttons to clean it and accidentally threw them away. She said that I could use a computer game stylus to work it. I think the person who took of the buttons was the last tenant who was good friends with the lady who helps the landlord. I feel bad for the landlord because the stove was in otherwise decent shape and she doesn't need to spend extra $ on a house that she rents out. I really wish my house hadn't burned down and that I'd not lit that damned candle because I'd have just replaced my stove instead of having to rely on someone else for all these things. I liked where we were taking the house.
I hate that so many people who I don't know want to ask if we will rebuild the house to being bigger, always adding that our house was so small. It is annoying when people have looked at it after the fire and express with fluttering eyelashes how we could have fit the entire family in it. I am embarrassed over this and I wish they would shut up. Yes, we are making it bigger (I think we will be but that has to do with the banks) because it would be silly to not make it bigger. I don't like how it is happening and yes, we could have survived and the kids done well in life had we not expanded. I don't like that we may appear to be benefiting in any way from this. We are not really benefitting directly-- we are paying off one loan and using good credit to get a little more and entering another 20 year mortgage. I DO NOT reccommend that people light candles in their homes and hope that they will catch fire, like how a fire happened to us. We lost more than we will ever get back. I hate how people give me big smiles and say, "You get all new stuff!" I want to scream at them, "I LOST THINGS THAT I CAN NEVER REPLACE AND I WILL NEVER GET THE SMELL OF MY BURNING BELONGINGS OUT OF MY NOSE!" The things that I love most at this point are the things that people who I know have lovingly gifted to me. Retail therapy is overrated.
You take the good with the bad, but the good does not in anyway outweigh the bad in this case. I ran into a burning building to get my state ID because even in my crazy, irrational state of mind, I knew that getting a new ID from the DMV with no social security card or birth certificate would have been futile and rendered me non-existent for a period of time. I got injured and it hurts me to think that I could have died and been a body recovery for some firefighters and a dead mother to my kids, but it was worth it to have taken the risk, stupid as that may sound. I lost priceless photos of my children when they were still adorable and some evidence of something terrible that happened to someone. Yes-- I will enjoy a new kitchen (I get a new kitchen! woo-hoo!) and the new layout of the house, but it wasn't worth the loss. I did gain a couple of friendships out of this that I plan to treasure for the rest of my life-- bickering children in the past prevented at least one of them, and these friendships-- they may be what God intended and they make me smile when I think of them. Something that also makes it worthy for me is the help that has been offered in creative, imaginative ways from friends and friends of friends. I got a Lowes card. . . and a 10% off coupon for Lowes! One of my church friends bought everyone including my husband and I PJ's and toothbrushes and toothpaste. Another friend organized things. These are the things that helped me get through the first weeks. There was good and bad, but I have never wished nor would I ever wish this on anyone.
I will get past this, but if you ever know anyone who goes through this, let them bring up the bright side-- I am not walking around as a constant downer, needing a smile. This crap comes up when I am shopping or wandering around some place and it's like, "Oh! Tea-whose-house-burned-down." I am so diversified in my interests and before I met most of the people who say these things, we had things to talk about. Grrrrrr!
Two people that I don't know came up to me at the school today and asked if my family would like a Christmas basket. I politely declined, but I got a bad vibe from them for declining. I tell them that I appreciate them offering but that at this time we are doing all right, but to be sure to get the word out.
On a good note-- I still love my ultra short hair cut. I kid you not, it takes 20 pounds off my hips because it draws the attention up toward my face. It is more me than ever. I know you can't tell, but I am high energy and fun-- the long hair made me look like a spaniel. I kept having to resist the urge to point when I saw ducks in the Palmer Hay Flats. . . it interfered with my driving!
My landlord ordered a new stove for me. Thankfully, it is not from Sears. Sears takes their own sweet time in refunding you on orders that they cancel, and then they decide that instead of refunding you via credit card as they said they would, that they will mail you a check to be brought up by a comatose snail. It was mailed on the 20th... it should be here by now because I get things from all over the country in two or three days. I still don't have a portable dishwasher and it has been one month.
I don't know what is up with the stoves in my life. The one that I had had at my house had a burner knob that had come off (this happens with appliances that are more than 10 years old) and we had plans to replace the whole thing this PFD time. The one here had missing buttons. The neighbour who helps out the landlord said that the lady prior to the last tenant took off the buttons to clean it and accidentally threw them away. She said that I could use a computer game stylus to work it. I think the person who took of the buttons was the last tenant who was good friends with the lady who helps the landlord. I feel bad for the landlord because the stove was in otherwise decent shape and she doesn't need to spend extra $ on a house that she rents out. I really wish my house hadn't burned down and that I'd not lit that damned candle because I'd have just replaced my stove instead of having to rely on someone else for all these things. I liked where we were taking the house.
I hate that so many people who I don't know want to ask if we will rebuild the house to being bigger, always adding that our house was so small. It is annoying when people have looked at it after the fire and express with fluttering eyelashes how we could have fit the entire family in it. I am embarrassed over this and I wish they would shut up. Yes, we are making it bigger (I think we will be but that has to do with the banks) because it would be silly to not make it bigger. I don't like how it is happening and yes, we could have survived and the kids done well in life had we not expanded. I don't like that we may appear to be benefiting in any way from this. We are not really benefitting directly-- we are paying off one loan and using good credit to get a little more and entering another 20 year mortgage. I DO NOT reccommend that people light candles in their homes and hope that they will catch fire, like how a fire happened to us. We lost more than we will ever get back. I hate how people give me big smiles and say, "You get all new stuff!" I want to scream at them, "I LOST THINGS THAT I CAN NEVER REPLACE AND I WILL NEVER GET THE SMELL OF MY BURNING BELONGINGS OUT OF MY NOSE!" The things that I love most at this point are the things that people who I know have lovingly gifted to me. Retail therapy is overrated.
You take the good with the bad, but the good does not in anyway outweigh the bad in this case. I ran into a burning building to get my state ID because even in my crazy, irrational state of mind, I knew that getting a new ID from the DMV with no social security card or birth certificate would have been futile and rendered me non-existent for a period of time. I got injured and it hurts me to think that I could have died and been a body recovery for some firefighters and a dead mother to my kids, but it was worth it to have taken the risk, stupid as that may sound. I lost priceless photos of my children when they were still adorable and some evidence of something terrible that happened to someone. Yes-- I will enjoy a new kitchen (I get a new kitchen! woo-hoo!) and the new layout of the house, but it wasn't worth the loss. I did gain a couple of friendships out of this that I plan to treasure for the rest of my life-- bickering children in the past prevented at least one of them, and these friendships-- they may be what God intended and they make me smile when I think of them. Something that also makes it worthy for me is the help that has been offered in creative, imaginative ways from friends and friends of friends. I got a Lowes card. . . and a 10% off coupon for Lowes! One of my church friends bought everyone including my husband and I PJ's and toothbrushes and toothpaste. Another friend organized things. These are the things that helped me get through the first weeks. There was good and bad, but I have never wished nor would I ever wish this on anyone.
I will get past this, but if you ever know anyone who goes through this, let them bring up the bright side-- I am not walking around as a constant downer, needing a smile. This crap comes up when I am shopping or wandering around some place and it's like, "Oh! Tea-whose-house-burned-down." I am so diversified in my interests and before I met most of the people who say these things, we had things to talk about. Grrrrrr!
Two people that I don't know came up to me at the school today and asked if my family would like a Christmas basket. I politely declined, but I got a bad vibe from them for declining. I tell them that I appreciate them offering but that at this time we are doing all right, but to be sure to get the word out.
On a good note-- I still love my ultra short hair cut. I kid you not, it takes 20 pounds off my hips because it draws the attention up toward my face. It is more me than ever. I know you can't tell, but I am high energy and fun-- the long hair made me look like a spaniel. I kept having to resist the urge to point when I saw ducks in the Palmer Hay Flats. . . it interfered with my driving!
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Why is he talking about me?
I think that one of the most annoying people that I have to deal with is my ex husband. He's not annoying because he is my ex, he is annoying because of his DNA. I have too many ex boyfriends and fiancees to get annoyed with-- most relationships ended with something that was too big for us to deal with and we parted on good terms. My ex? Once he decided that he wanted out, when our bills got too high and my parents told him that he needed to stop drinking and pay attention to his wife and children, he left the say rent was due and we had no food but some dry cereal and juice and bought a pair of $700 cowboy boots and told me to ask my parents and "the welfare people" for help with the rent.
That was close to 20 years ago. I've given birth to seven more children, gotten a degree and married and have had no regrets. He came up when Tiger graduated and I avoided him. A couple of my kids saw him and told me in private that he seemed smarmy. I said, "I never gave him much thought."
Most recently, I got a tattoo that one of my friends bought for me after my house burned down. This is something that I love and am very proud of. It's a monumental tattoo that goes from my elbow to my shoulder, that commemeorates a huge event in my life. I have met the artist who will do my next tattoo (tribal, of a magpie, on my right thigh) and I just in general love them. (My mom said that I won't be 40 for forever and asked how I will want to look when I am 80. Hey, I worked in an assisted living residence. At least I won't have pasty white skin!) Anyway, Tiger told me that her dad knows about my pheonix. WTF? She said that he told her that he knows about it like it was something taboo, but I was bothered first that he told her that he knew, and second that she informed me.
His wife is nutty as in, seriously OCD. Yes, she has needed medication and various helps with her personality. (Serious mental issues.) When I was in a court battle with them over the kids, she was the epitome of hearing something small about me and making her lawyer tell my lawyer that they "knew" about it. These were things that were not even illegal or questionable, just an intimidation tactic. It would have been unnerving if they were not spending big bucks every time they sneezed in their lawyer's direction! Was finding out through a friend of a friend on Face Book that I have a tattoo a big deal to them that they had to tell our daughter?
I told my daughter that she needs to think about what she is being told and analyse why someone is telling her about it. I've heard personal things about my ex over the years and said nothing to the kids. I know no one who admits to keeping tabs on their exes after the kids are grown up, and when they did secretly stalk them, they didn't tip anyone off. I told my daughter to write down the date and content when he talks about me, but to not tell me unless it seems like my like, health or personal property are in danger.
That was close to 20 years ago. I've given birth to seven more children, gotten a degree and married and have had no regrets. He came up when Tiger graduated and I avoided him. A couple of my kids saw him and told me in private that he seemed smarmy. I said, "I never gave him much thought."
Most recently, I got a tattoo that one of my friends bought for me after my house burned down. This is something that I love and am very proud of. It's a monumental tattoo that goes from my elbow to my shoulder, that commemeorates a huge event in my life. I have met the artist who will do my next tattoo (tribal, of a magpie, on my right thigh) and I just in general love them. (My mom said that I won't be 40 for forever and asked how I will want to look when I am 80. Hey, I worked in an assisted living residence. At least I won't have pasty white skin!) Anyway, Tiger told me that her dad knows about my pheonix. WTF? She said that he told her that he knows about it like it was something taboo, but I was bothered first that he told her that he knew, and second that she informed me.
His wife is nutty as in, seriously OCD. Yes, she has needed medication and various helps with her personality. (Serious mental issues.) When I was in a court battle with them over the kids, she was the epitome of hearing something small about me and making her lawyer tell my lawyer that they "knew" about it. These were things that were not even illegal or questionable, just an intimidation tactic. It would have been unnerving if they were not spending big bucks every time they sneezed in their lawyer's direction! Was finding out through a friend of a friend on Face Book that I have a tattoo a big deal to them that they had to tell our daughter?
I told my daughter that she needs to think about what she is being told and analyse why someone is telling her about it. I've heard personal things about my ex over the years and said nothing to the kids. I know no one who admits to keeping tabs on their exes after the kids are grown up, and when they did secretly stalk them, they didn't tip anyone off. I told my daughter to write down the date and content when he talks about me, but to not tell me unless it seems like my like, health or personal property are in danger.
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