I have grains in my teeth, after leaving the dentist after a cleaning all I can feel is sand, even after downing a Timmy's. The weather here is beautiful, yesterday, I made sure to mulch the leaves on our lawn. I blew them all into the garden, and figured although my lawn looks a tad random, it was a job well done, and a job done before the snow will hit. The only thing I have to do is get roof heaters and a piece of wood to cover the oil tank next door with. This has been a hate filled week, and I am trying to shed that. It's not easy when things lay dormant and then suddenly there is a flare up. All things become clear, memories are regurgitated and you realize that what lay dusty was still an issue. One thing that is good, is that I do have someone else who is dealing with the same bullshit. I cannot thank them enough for sharing, because it takes that isolation away. Although I wish that they didn't have to be a part of these undercurrents as well. I will remember this when and if my children marry. I will remember not to interfere, I will remember not to act sanctimonious, egotistical, or superior. I will remember not to judge. I just hope that the partners that my children chose will be wonky and fun. Yet, I will reserve the right to throw up and get violent if they decide to marry a partner (or family) who is a conservative right winged "cafeteria christian" or a polygamist. Nuff said.

Leftovers, and Muckity Muck.

Religion, brings out the best and the worst in people. It is those who feel that they hold the sole truth who are the ones, that will have the biggest surprise waiting for them when they croak. The more "we think" we know, the less is known. Picture a circle, or make it with your hands. That is what you know, and as it grows bigger so does the outside circumference, the outside circumference is the fascia of what you do not know. As you grow, birth, school, work, death, or maiden, mother, crone, or however you want to view your life, that circle of knowing expands (for some I am sure it contracts like a "barking spider"), and so does what you do not understand. Humans take literal translation of things that have been written many moons ago. If I were to take the Ten Commandments, and live my life congruently through those, some would say I would make it to Heaven, some would say that my acts would not give me a ticket into the Great Beyond, and some would say that God, would look at me and spit, and say I am still doomed to an inferno. This is what I do not "get". Goodness, done for the sake of good, and not salvation is not necessarily given a thumbs up by the big White Guy With A Beard Surrounded By His Ethereal~ness. Understanding this, and realizing many paths lead us to "Great Mystery" or to the "Creator" or to what name that we mere humans slap to it, it is the path you take, and the way you walk it that leads you to your heaven, hell, purgatory, limbo, worms in the ground, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and maggots to flies. I remember as a child having religion crammed down my throat every morning with my oatmeal and re-plumped raisins, I remember having to stand in the church choir surrounded by the same children who bullied me, I remember singing out to a congregation of people, some of which were the families of the bullies. The kids were clean for the day. I found hypocrisy repugnant, and at the ripe age of twelve, decided I was agnostic. My views have changed, but this past week, while we should have been celebrating the life of a man, the sourness of the blighted undercurrents left a bitter taste in my mouth. The pomp, and the impression of life as a close knit family (at least with our nuclear ones) was as fake as Joan River's forehead. Today, I watched, seated in a booth at the luncheon as "she", danced around the children like an asshole, arms flitting around, skirt swirling. Watched, as she pretended that there was closeness where there was not. She had called earlier, and insinuated that, it was I that had kept the grandchildren from her. I responded, you are always welcome here and have always been, as long as you are not ill. I have never kept you from having a relationship with your grandchildren. Yet, this is what it is. No, I do not feel the need to invite anymore, as my invitations in the past have been brushed off, or there was the issue of extreme tardiness. This is now, not my problem. They are the ones missing out. They have had the opportunity to be more than just looming shadows. When I asked my youngest "why don't you want to go", Tibbles responded that "she" yells and is angry. So practice what you preach. Don't be the martyr, don't pretend that your "gift" to the family is cooking when you complain how hard it was on you and that your back hurts. Don't tell me you do not want to interfere, when it is evident as the skin on your neck, that interference and drama are your intent. Don't pretend that you have a relationship or a positive impact on my daughters when you don't. You have had the opportunity, and lost it. You have made promises to them, and not followed through. There may be still time to mend it, to have a second chance (aren't grandchildren just that?). But it is you, you who have lost. Maybe in the effort to pretend, you have consigned to oblivion, and the real relationship was lost, and maybe it was not there to begin with. Just as in your own children's relationship, where there isn't a relationship anymore, except for the extreme greetings at the annual get together or a funeral or wedding, because this is what is expected and what is performed for the others. The relationship now does not extend past that. There is no allowance for a brother and sister to just be, it always is under your roof, your rules and your nose. Yet, for brother and sister, it is up to them to mend and regain the relationship, and rise above the water treading wannabe matriarch. I just had to spew. Pretty raw this week.

It is the noise that irritates, the tapping of paws, the crinkling of things in the kitchen, the swooshing of pant legs, and the footsteps. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to not have that commotion in the house, to be able to just sit, and not hear the snorts and the stomps and the bangs. Earplugs are something that I rarely use, but I do use them. Electrical hummmmmms and beeps of the microwave, and the door of the refridgerator being opened and kicked shut, send me screaming inside. In my world, those things mean, that I will have a load of dishes waiting for me to scrub and a messy counter top, scattered with globs of things my daughter makes. She is a good cook, but not so good at cleaning up. But if I erase all the sounds of the living, there is not much life, and how fun would that be? Lonely woman, in a big old house, who farts around in a garden, and makes monkey noises occasionally out the window, in order to startle the neighbours. Poo wouldn't be placed in my wood stove when I see the bitch across the street buzzing around, walking like she has a cucumber rammed up her wazzooo. Today I bought two Holly bushes, Elfin Thyme and Scottish Moss, and Golden Thyme. All steppables for around the hot tub, the Holly will be placed in a sheltered area somewhere on the property, away from the harsh winds of winter.

We are down to single digits during the day, and I heard a bone chilling "zero" for this evening. Yes, another weather report, the same stale writing, but really, isn't that what you have come to read? I suppose, reading about my new tenant, who is a really nice guy, but is inopportune would not be fodder for the masses. That my front door looks like the bumper of the assholes living up the street. Yes, I have resorted to signage. Three signs now adorn my door, and I do not think that he realizes that it applies to him. He tells me stories of many things, and I do admit he is most interesting, yet, he does not stop to take a breath, and actually made a friend sick to the point of leaving my yard. If I could, I would do an "I feel statement" but alas, he, would not allow me to get a word in edgewise. To me, it is sad, because, he is talented, he is knowledgeable, and he does have great stories from the past. I just wish he would turn the rpm's down to a bearable speed. He knocks at the door, while my husband is sleeping, he knocks when I am sleeping. He knocks to alert me to rainbows, to 1932 microphones, to tell me about the sound of Jupiter. He likes to alert. Again, he is a nice man, but he is not making friends in town because he never stops fucking talking. The problem is, in fact that he is interesting and does pay his rent. Although, he is really not up to snuff on Landlord/Tenant relations, meaning, he thinks that I have to supply new doors, which are not in existence already, and other comfort/and/ or conveniences. I suppose reading about my last two weeks babysitting a spoiled dog would not interest my readers either. The fact that the dog would take a shit indoors, if I didn't take the fluff ball out for a walk three hundred times a day. The fact that this dog was the one I rescued and homed with my in laws. By the time the dog left here, she was a "real dog" again, she ate in a crate, she crapped in the dog run, and she did not throw temper tantrums. She learned to get along with other dogs. Oh such drama.

Four dogs in the house, normally, would be my idea of heaven. This time though, although all four are getting along better than would be expected, I am having issues lifting. The dog that is staying for a couple of weeks is a little bit of a spoiled brat, and if I don't carry her outside, she just wont go. I decided to go off the "Concerta" which is for CFS, which helps focus and give energy. Since using it, I have lost ten pounds, and decided that I would much rather be tired, than lose the weight. It could have been worse, had I not been making "the smoothies from hell". Today, I am supposed to go out to lunch with WB, I think we will be chatting. There has been some terrible upset in town over the past few years. People divorcing, breaking up, doing switcharoo's. Here is my opinion on divorce, if you have kids. Don't ever invite your new beau to live with you. WAIT until your children leave the house unless they are under the age of three. It only adds flames to the fire, and the person moving in does not have a hope in hell of assimilating into your family life. Sure there are the outliers to this, where life does work, but from personal, as well as observational experience, to me it's a big NO NO. When my Nana was thirty six, she lost her husband (nine years her senior), she had a twelve and fourteen year old at home (these numbers are guesstimates). She had the foresight to wait until the kids were out of the house to enjoy another marriage. Not that she didn't have "male friends", but she kept them out of the family household. Which also, in my humble opinion made her more marketable. Smart lady. In my case, if Addled and I ever did (extremely remote chance) divorce, or God forbid, he had an accident and died, I would not entertain men for a long time. I would wait until the girls are out of the house and in that way, I would be able to rediscover myself as a single person, and also, be able to reflect first about what I do not want in a partner. Not jump in to the first relationship that comes my way because I am lonely, or need a man's validation.