Wonder when it will become a holiday here? Maybe we should all start sending out cards saying Happy Johnny Appleseed Day! Send friends and family an apple.
Walking, walking, walking, this is the most walking I do in a day unless I go to Cedar Point. Haven't been there since 1997. Wonder how much has changed. Well, this year I'm looking forward to some good apple treats, esp. caramel apples. A good junk day has come to me! Wonder what a chocolate covered apple would taste like, a dark chocolate covered apple? Anyone courageous enough to make one and try it with me?
Have a Good Johnny Appleseed Day!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Feeling Lonely
The past two months have been extremely stressful. In the stress I didn't realize how lonely I feel. The past two weeks, since most of my daughter's ex problems have dissipated, I have been feeling the nagging want for a serious conversation and companionship. By writing this I am completely exposing myself. Garry and I have been drifting apart. Most of it is due to his disability. Physically he cannot stand to be touched because of the pain, even while on medication. This does take a toll on a relationship. I am a very physical person, putting it politely. Then, to make the situation worse, he doesn't want to talk. He spends his days watching movies and court shows. To explain the distance that is becoming between us, he found my daughter's condoms in my pantie drawer. I honestly can't remember why they were there. There are two reasons that I can think of: one, my daughter didn't want her brother to use them up; two, I found them thrown on the floor and hid them from her for being irresponsible. Either way, they were there. Now, imagine what Garry insinuated from finding the condoms. This was four days ago, and he is still mad at me. I guess it doesn't help that we can't sleep together because the way he has to lay to keep the pain at bay. Keeping myself busy is the only solution to not feeling the loneliness, but I get tired of "keeping busy."
I've been thinking of something else as well. He has already said in so many words that he wouldn't move "south." But the way he said he wouldn't move, said so much more: he wouldn't move at all. What if I don't have a choice? What if I have to find a job in another state? I know he doesn't want to be away from the grandkids, and neither do I, . . . but. . . . A good job, a good paying job will make me move. I'm tired of living on the edge, never knowing if we are going to make it to the next month. And I'm not going to kill myself by working many hours a week at low paying jobs, it isn't worth it--there is more to life than working. I want to live. I'm not saying that I'm not living, I'm saying I'm tired of just surviving. It gets old fast. I want to enjoy a little more of life. Damn, I'm nearly fifty and haven't accomplish the one dream I've had since I was in the first grade: publish a novel. Just surviving makes it hard to concentrate on a dream.
I have to stop writing before I start crying. If I start crying, and someone walks through, there'll be questions asked I don't want to answer. If only . . . . If only what? If only a heart break was all I had to worry about.
I've been thinking of something else as well. He has already said in so many words that he wouldn't move "south." But the way he said he wouldn't move, said so much more: he wouldn't move at all. What if I don't have a choice? What if I have to find a job in another state? I know he doesn't want to be away from the grandkids, and neither do I, . . . but. . . . A good job, a good paying job will make me move. I'm tired of living on the edge, never knowing if we are going to make it to the next month. And I'm not going to kill myself by working many hours a week at low paying jobs, it isn't worth it--there is more to life than working. I want to live. I'm not saying that I'm not living, I'm saying I'm tired of just surviving. It gets old fast. I want to enjoy a little more of life. Damn, I'm nearly fifty and haven't accomplish the one dream I've had since I was in the first grade: publish a novel. Just surviving makes it hard to concentrate on a dream.
I have to stop writing before I start crying. If I start crying, and someone walks through, there'll be questions asked I don't want to answer. If only . . . . If only what? If only a heart break was all I had to worry about.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Ginet on an outing without me.
Yeah! Believe it! She is out with a new friend. This new friend happens to be a student of mine as well. So, where's the fine line . . . . :) . No, I don't have a problem with it, her new friend will receive the grade she deserves, no matter what happens.
Another piece of news. The dog that was given to her by the ex was taken away when she had surgery. We were told that he was going to a home for awhile, until Ginet's wrist healed. On Wednesday we found out that Phoenix was taken to the pound. Vincent, my son, took a trip over the following day. Phoenix was there, and named Flop. Phoenix comes home on Wednesday. I had to adopt him. Oh well, at least something that was taken away came back. What I mean by that statement is, that when Derek left, she felt her self ripped apart; then when Phoenix wasn't returning, she felt her whole self had been taken away. The tears of joy to know he was alive!
Something else good happened as well, although this will sound terrible. The information that came to light the same day we found out about Phoenix has enabled her to take a big step forward. I won't say how the information came to us, but suffice it to say, Derek had been seeing another girl for three months before the break up. I guess, if the information is correct, he couldn't chose. His hand was forced. In the long run, Ginet turned out on top, although it is hard for her to see. The last information given to us says, he moved with her back to Illinois, where she is from. Without him here, it will be much easier for Ginet to move on more.
Another good note. She has been talking to several boys. She is testing the ground for personality first. She isn't stepping into a relationship for awhile. She has decided to date, see what is all out there. Though, she says to me often, "I hate being alone without a man's arms around me. I miss that comfort." I hope she holds to this plan. With friends surrounding her, I think she can.
Even so, the past few weeks is the most fun I've had with her. We have been doing this activity together we call "guy shopping." She says, "Look at this mom; what do you think; I think he's hot; here's his information," as she surfs myspace. We discuss what is before us. I keep thinking of the movie Because I Said So. If you've seen the movie, you'll understand why.
Something else good came from all of this as well. She is focusing on her school work, and has decided to take up an apprenticeship at a local photography studio. Next week is her first shoot. I hope she has fun while she learns. Having her own photography business is all she has talked about for two years. She now realizes that training is needed before starting such an endeavor. I know she'll need a partner who can do the business end while she does the creative end. I hope when the time comes the right person can be found.
It feels wonderful writing this all up. I thought I would be crying as I wrote everything down. (Well . . . type it.) I'm not sure when I can actually write the story I want, but I believe I have a title that will capture the reader: When You Love Your Daughter's Boyfriend. Of course, it isn't like it sounds. I think writing about the experience from a mother's perspective would be well received by those mothers who have received the daughter's boyfriend / fiancee as a son, believing in the promises given to her by the young man. Sadly, I can't even say Derek is a young man. I look back and think about a time when I called him "a boy," yelling at him, telling him, "You're not a man! A man would be here, now, facing the family to be with the woman he loves!" Derek will only be a "guy," a term that I've come to use for a boy in a man's body. Wanting my daughter to be happy, I was blindsided as much as her. I'll admit! It is hard to admit it. And I did treat Derek like my sons. Hmmm, I just produced from my throat and shrugged my shoulders. Will I allow myself to be blindsided like this again? I know it can happen to Ginet again. But I'm the more mature one. And then, if I'm not blindsided, how do I tell my daughter? Remind her what happened before? That's so hurtful. Yes, I'm jumping the gun, I know that, but these are thoughts I have.
For those of you who know me, you'll probably asking, "Didn't you go through this with your oldest daughter?" Similar, but Jessica's ex never felt like a son, and I was never as close to my oldest as I am to my youngest. Jessica is grandpa's girl, Ginet is mommy's girl. Don't let anyone say they don't have favorites among their children; they're lying. I used to try to fool myself. I will admit, at times, all of my children are favorites at time. This depends on my mood and the situation taking place. Still, overall, Ginet I prefer to be with, and then Vincent. Why, I'm not sure. I've always been closer to them. Chuckled to myself as I realize I've never admitted this to anyone outside of my four children. All four have confronted me about this because they see my actions. Yes, I didn't lie to them. I told them exactly what I said right here.
Wow! How good it feels to write all this. How good it feels to write instead of read read read. How good it feels to write what I want instead of writing to fill out applications. My journal has been lonely all summer. It is time to get busy in it again.
Well, I know it isn't Sunday, but I said I would be reading on Sundays. Now, I've decided to write on Friday nights. No students' papers, none, nihil, zilch. Writing the "nihil" made me think of an old poem of mine where I drew out a time line and placed Roman numerals on it to show time. If I remember correctly, there isn't a zero, as is none, in the Roman numerals, and the word "nihil" came about later. Damn, don't remember exactly how that went, I just know I had to find something that meant zero from the Greek language (was it?). Oh, Tom, where are you in my time of need? Anyhow, the poem I speak of is in my chapbook, I Can't Be a Star Wars Junkie. Troy, you might remember the poem, I think you were in the class that year when I did that chapbook.
Now I must go. Anna made homemade break, and my stomach is saying "get some now!"
Another piece of news. The dog that was given to her by the ex was taken away when she had surgery. We were told that he was going to a home for awhile, until Ginet's wrist healed. On Wednesday we found out that Phoenix was taken to the pound. Vincent, my son, took a trip over the following day. Phoenix was there, and named Flop. Phoenix comes home on Wednesday. I had to adopt him. Oh well, at least something that was taken away came back. What I mean by that statement is, that when Derek left, she felt her self ripped apart; then when Phoenix wasn't returning, she felt her whole self had been taken away. The tears of joy to know he was alive!
Something else good happened as well, although this will sound terrible. The information that came to light the same day we found out about Phoenix has enabled her to take a big step forward. I won't say how the information came to us, but suffice it to say, Derek had been seeing another girl for three months before the break up. I guess, if the information is correct, he couldn't chose. His hand was forced. In the long run, Ginet turned out on top, although it is hard for her to see. The last information given to us says, he moved with her back to Illinois, where she is from. Without him here, it will be much easier for Ginet to move on more.
Another good note. She has been talking to several boys. She is testing the ground for personality first. She isn't stepping into a relationship for awhile. She has decided to date, see what is all out there. Though, she says to me often, "I hate being alone without a man's arms around me. I miss that comfort." I hope she holds to this plan. With friends surrounding her, I think she can.
Even so, the past few weeks is the most fun I've had with her. We have been doing this activity together we call "guy shopping." She says, "Look at this mom; what do you think; I think he's hot; here's his information," as she surfs myspace. We discuss what is before us. I keep thinking of the movie Because I Said So. If you've seen the movie, you'll understand why.
Something else good came from all of this as well. She is focusing on her school work, and has decided to take up an apprenticeship at a local photography studio. Next week is her first shoot. I hope she has fun while she learns. Having her own photography business is all she has talked about for two years. She now realizes that training is needed before starting such an endeavor. I know she'll need a partner who can do the business end while she does the creative end. I hope when the time comes the right person can be found.
It feels wonderful writing this all up. I thought I would be crying as I wrote everything down. (Well . . . type it.) I'm not sure when I can actually write the story I want, but I believe I have a title that will capture the reader: When You Love Your Daughter's Boyfriend. Of course, it isn't like it sounds. I think writing about the experience from a mother's perspective would be well received by those mothers who have received the daughter's boyfriend / fiancee as a son, believing in the promises given to her by the young man. Sadly, I can't even say Derek is a young man. I look back and think about a time when I called him "a boy," yelling at him, telling him, "You're not a man! A man would be here, now, facing the family to be with the woman he loves!" Derek will only be a "guy," a term that I've come to use for a boy in a man's body. Wanting my daughter to be happy, I was blindsided as much as her. I'll admit! It is hard to admit it. And I did treat Derek like my sons. Hmmm, I just produced from my throat and shrugged my shoulders. Will I allow myself to be blindsided like this again? I know it can happen to Ginet again. But I'm the more mature one. And then, if I'm not blindsided, how do I tell my daughter? Remind her what happened before? That's so hurtful. Yes, I'm jumping the gun, I know that, but these are thoughts I have.
For those of you who know me, you'll probably asking, "Didn't you go through this with your oldest daughter?" Similar, but Jessica's ex never felt like a son, and I was never as close to my oldest as I am to my youngest. Jessica is grandpa's girl, Ginet is mommy's girl. Don't let anyone say they don't have favorites among their children; they're lying. I used to try to fool myself. I will admit, at times, all of my children are favorites at time. This depends on my mood and the situation taking place. Still, overall, Ginet I prefer to be with, and then Vincent. Why, I'm not sure. I've always been closer to them. Chuckled to myself as I realize I've never admitted this to anyone outside of my four children. All four have confronted me about this because they see my actions. Yes, I didn't lie to them. I told them exactly what I said right here.
Wow! How good it feels to write all this. How good it feels to write instead of read read read. How good it feels to write what I want instead of writing to fill out applications. My journal has been lonely all summer. It is time to get busy in it again.
Well, I know it isn't Sunday, but I said I would be reading on Sundays. Now, I've decided to write on Friday nights. No students' papers, none, nihil, zilch. Writing the "nihil" made me think of an old poem of mine where I drew out a time line and placed Roman numerals on it to show time. If I remember correctly, there isn't a zero, as is none, in the Roman numerals, and the word "nihil" came about later. Damn, don't remember exactly how that went, I just know I had to find something that meant zero from the Greek language (was it?). Oh, Tom, where are you in my time of need? Anyhow, the poem I speak of is in my chapbook, I Can't Be a Star Wars Junkie. Troy, you might remember the poem, I think you were in the class that year when I did that chapbook.
Now I must go. Anna made homemade break, and my stomach is saying "get some now!"
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Just before church
I'm attempting to catch up on many many blogs. My new motto is, read blogs on Sunday. Time will tell how well I do. I have to leave for church in four minutes, and don't want to go while knowing I need to go because I haven't been to church (my church) for over two months. The problem is I don't like going to church alone. Plus, I don't like going to church when I feel down. My closest friends now live in Florida, and those friends I have here have a life as busy or busier than mine. Hmmm, does life ever slow down. For those of you who know me, yes, a still have a good friend that only lives minutes away, but there are times I cannot burden her due to some of the issues she has to deal with. Close friends remember this. Why am I writing this? In hope that I can say something without saying what I want to say, allowing me to get through the day, if only for the day. Well, my clock says it is time to go. Look for part of another story in a week or two on my other blog "writingtobefree."
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