For the first time i

For the first time in week’s ive a moment to myself, it is 154 in the morning and just about everyone is asleep.  Tears slip from my eyes… so many thoughts, too many decisions to make, some worry, some fears, so much change in the past month ---

What I as has been blown away.

The holidays are coming, and I hate/love the holidays.  So much pressure, so much work, so much expectation. so much happiness, but then so much sadness too.  I cant bear it at times, the less fortunate=== what do they do… scoff at the holiday fools…those who have not a care what do they do>…what ever they choose… and me torn between helping and giving and getting… yes I like to get … and I’m being honest here…. Too many times I have gone without so others can have things, and well, im just working too hard to not have what I want too, at least once in awhile.===


Beside me on the desk --- is this thing call a peach puppy ---- a decision about a complaint that I filed… Do I have hope and expectations that I’ve won…no… I’ve lost without even going to get the answer.

I’ve lost because I let my back injury kill my dream, I’ve let money determine my fate.  So that makes me cry, but I have my other dream, the one I’m working on …some what… and well…maybe that is just what I need to do…keep writing… and let it all come out some how or some way.  

My peace has been disrupted… Son up and out the door, it’s two a.m.  
M R’s been arrested.  
For what?
Driving on the highway/
His parents--- do they know?
NO, that’s why we are going to get him out
He wasn’t drinking?  Was he?
Not that I know of.

It: Alternative

I pray for my sister who is fighting cancer …keep fighting
It is too scary to explain

I pray for my son who is fighting addiction.  keep fighting
It is too scary to explain

I pray for my daughter who is still recovering from a divorce.
It is too scary to explain

I pray for my other son and my other daughter too.
Growing up is sooooo
Scary to explain

I pray for my husband. To quit smoking
If you get lung cancer ---
That is too scary to explain too…

What is not too scary to explain?

It is not too scary for me to say I miss my 7 year old grandson, probably too much
It is not too scary to say that I know I have some decisions to make.
It is not too scary to say, Where is Time going?

It is too scary to think that I can’t even talk to my sister because I am so upset about her being so sick that I cry and she just doesn’t need to hear me crying about what she probably wants to cry about but she cant because she has to be so fucken strong and just keep believing that she is going to beat this thing.

What an idiot I am.

hummmm

more of the same:
daughter having to make adjustments in her life creating strife for her father and I
son having to make some strides in his life creating stress for father and I
daughter having to go to early morning detention and mother not willing to drive creating .... a worn out attitude..
so that is that.
the white soxz against the astros wow.... who would have believed it. st louis is playing like the Red Soxs ha!

Construction still going on and will be for another year. This is horrid.
so tired can't manage.

wetness

And the rain came down….
Some how the weather has changed completely… from summer to fall in a swipe
Rain and leaves and cool air, but I still see people in shorts and cropped pants, skirts without stockings…. But me, I am bundling up again, layering my clothes to keep warm.

Of course if they had the heat on in my office at the morning job I probably wouldn’t need sooo much winterizing.  I am looking forward to this winter, having sometime for myself, finding a place to exercise as my house is so full now, and just being able to have sometime that is my own.  It has been over a year and ½ since I started watching my grandson nearly every evening.. How life changes.  OH well I will survive.  I will miss the boy though.

j

Baseball musings

Baseball musings….

I have not forgotten-- the feeling…. Down trodden --- hunched over, elbows on my knees, head slightly low, cheeks full and pouting lips, tears trying to ooze out of the sides of my eyes. Disbelief….how many times have I been here before… on the edge of grief… because of baseball…

Change of Colors, the Boston Globe said, and others too. Yes, it is true, the Sox’s are out, no ALCS play, no World Series. Put your dreams to bed, but not….

There is NEXT Year!!!

I wonder how many times I said that in my life time, next year.
O, how I basked in last years’ glee, the happiness, the out and out cheer that still carries over, yeah, it is still there…

We just didn’t get it this year. Yup! It’s over, and I know it’s over, but,

The Atlanta Braves are in there… and they used to be in Boston, so they are my national league team. I’m on their fan list, and receive emails about their games and tickets. (At least if I lived in Atlanta I would be able to get tickets, unlike that fact that this year I was unable to get a ticket to a Red Sox game….. Well, not true, I could have had a few tickets but they would have cost me, next year I might just have to do some begging…)

Anyway, last night, I pushed back my sadness, cheered on the Angels against the Evil Empire, and today, I will cheer on St. Louis and the Braves. Sorry Padres.


Now I am free to choose whom to root for ----- and of course it will not be the Chicago, well I do like that city, and I love NYC too except for the Yankees, and if they manage to win, I will never root for them, it would be more than a sin….
I will not root for Houston either– home of our ex Roger Clemens…

I would like to see the Angels (at least I’ve seen their stadium) go up against the Braves and have the Braves win,….

but I have a feeling for the end…it’s going to be the White Sox’s against St Louis… and then who do I pick? Certainly not a bird!

Back to the Sox’s again… the Pin Striped Black and Whites, I have to give them credit… they just plain out shined us…

And my husband, the bad fan, how he loves to tease me, he flipped through the stations last night… I put my pillow over my head…. the news over and over again….punishment
“Stop it!” I said …..----

“You,” he said to me, “I come to rescue you and you tell me to shhhh, because you were listening to the Red Sox’s.”

There is no sense in trying to explain Red Sox’s reasoning to a man that is a bad fan. I rolled away from him.
“Your boys of the summer just didn’t make it.”

Arghh how dare he.

I closed my eyes, and hugged my pillow. Good Night Red Sox’s Sweet Dreams.
NEXT YEAR!!!! Oh yeah, I’m waiting!

a cure for sadness...

"I don't want realism. I want--magic!"
--Blanche DuBois, "A Streetcar Named Desire"
stolen from Belle in NYC 's blog... but oh sooo true...

Why deal with the real, when you can have magic if you believe in it.

sad

i am
sad about my sister being sick
it doesnt matter that i believe she will eventually be cured
it just sucks that she has to go through this
she has three kids
my mother always says, "who says life is fair?"
I hate that question.
I want to just scream.

other wise everything else is ok except for my tears
been so emotional lately it is like being on a bungie cord
high and low
the new baby is so sweet
my nerves are just shot
worry
i dont want to
but i do

Waffled

One night last week, I was with my grandson, talking with him about his endless day at school, and after school, and being with Papa, Auntie Dee Dee, the new baby, his uncle, and his aunt, and various other people before I brought him home to his own house. We were chatting about the usual things when he said, “Grammy, can’t you stay over tonight?”
I replied,” No, I have to go home, Auntie DD has school and Papa has work.”
“But Grammy,” he said, “When, are you going to stop being Papa’s slave?” And I laughed, “So you think I am Papa’s slave?” And he nodded his head as he held my arm and I just laughed again, “Someday.”

Later that evening I told my husband what Johnny had said.
“You are more his slave than mine.” My husband was indignant, and I didn’t say anything, but I smiled inside.

On Friday, after a long 10 hours plus day I returned home to the infamous DD requesting a ride to the Plaza, “We have to go today. Tomorrow is Stacey’s birthday party and I’ve nothing for her. Cash my check. When are we leaving? I want to go in 20 minutes.”

Exhausted, I capitulated and off we went to the plaza, Johnny, DD, and I.

DD was going to Hot Topic, a store I truthfully like, but … I am in need of some new white cotton gowns which are, for some reason unbeknown to me, very hard to find. I like sleeveless long white cotton nighties. So Johnny and I went to Filene’s, while DD went to the Goth store. Filene’s had not a thing, polyester blends..yek! I wasn’t interested.
But then I remembered I needed a new frying pan. I had thrown away my 12 inch -- lack of Teflon.
Calphalon was on sale. That stuff is heavy. I examined it. Lifted 4 different brands. Johnny meanwhile had found something else. A waffle maker, not a round waffle maker, not a square waffle maker, but a dipping - stick waffle maker that even came with a dipping station. It was on the half price rack. I lifted the box, $50.00. Wow expensive for a waffle maker. Cuisinart, a good name. I asked the clerk,” How much?”
“$40.00”
“Humm, maybe another kind?”
The clerk took me about the department. They had some very fine waffle makers. But nothing like the dipping waffler. I wavered, and after 10 minutes of contemplation, I waffled, “I’ll take it.” And two calphalon pieces, one frying pan with a cover, and a square skillet. Charged.
We were off, out of Filene’s into the plaza searching for a white Polo hat and Aunt DD at the same time.
“When are we going home Grammy?" Can we make the waffles when we get there? I can’t wait til we have the waffles Grammy.” Johnny went on and on. Waffles.
We met up with Aunt DD who spent all her $$ in one stop, so out to the car we went.

"Couldn’t we get a pretzel Grammy?" Johnny asked.
“No Johnny, we will have waffles when we get home.”
“Waffles.” Johnny fell asleep on the drive. Papa came out to get him and was carrying the child up the stairs when he suddenly popped opened his eyes as if he had slept all night,
“Papa, I can’t go to bed. Grammy is making me waffles.” Down the steps he trotted in his socks. Out came the pancake mix, no scratch tonight. Out came the waffle stick maker, directly to the sink for a before use washing, then, the directions, bowls, and spatulas, oil, milk and
the Dipping Station --- to the sink---
3 little dipping cups and a cradle for them to dock in.
We made the batter, and set the timer, waffle sticks after waffle sticks, maple syrup, and honey, and jam, Papa, Uncle Ricky, Auntie Heather, Auntie DD, Johnny, Mikey, and Grammy …. Everyone from every room in the house came out. Johnny’s Momma came in. It was 11:30 and there were waffles in the kitchen and smiles in the house.
The family that never gets to dine together was hanging out.
“You spoil him,” Papa said to me.
“Without him there wouldn’t be this joy,” I grinned.
Papa agreed, “You are still more his slave than mine.”
“Maybe,” I said, Johnny nodded.