Helpless, Helpless, Helpless……………

My brother came up to visit yesterday, and it was a gas, man.  We laughed until our stomachs hurt, ate gimongous cheeseburgers and red velvet cupcakes, and had real, quality time together.

I don’t do well with saying goodbye, and I spent most of the day, repeating, Please don’t leave me yet, over and over again in my head.  He stayed for a long time, and when he got ready to leave?  My heart stuck in my throat………….I am sick and tired of goodbyes.  The better your experience, the worse the downer when it’s over.

We walked down to the driveway, and he said, I don’t know what’s going to happen to the family………it broke me.  I don’t have the answers, dear brother.  But this I do know, I will love you with an everlasting love…….it’s hard to put your finger on the emotions you feel, when what’s left of your family drives down the street, on their way to Philadelphia, then LA……..but one of the hardest things?  Learning to let go, and not feel alone, forsaken, misunderstood.

So for now, let’s just say, “see you next time around.”

 

In My System……………

Ladies and gentleman, I am in loveeeee……………………and I owe it all to my brand new, Shark Rocket Ultra-Light Upright.  Sweet baby Jesus I am over the moon and I doubt if I’ll come down from the clouds any time soon.

We are country mice, and we have no squares to spare for things like vacuum cleaners.  However, I have had the same burber carpet for 15 years-and as I’ve been using my in-laws twenty year old Oreck vacuum, complete with holes in the outer bag-for longer than I care to admit-well, I grabbed that Kohl’s 30% off coupon and ran for the jeep before anyone could stop me.  I was a woman on a mission, and nothing, NOTHING I TELL YOU, WOULD GET IN MY WAY.

You want to know about pure hell on earth?  Try living in a small farm house with 6 cats and a golden retriever without a workable vacuum.  If you’re lucky, you won’t lose your freaking mind, and if you’re really lucky?  Well, you won’t be seen cursing a blue streak whilst kicking the shit out of said crap vacuum on your front porch in your skivvies.  True story.  I hate that piece of shit like I hate poison, and I can finally say adios!!!!!!!! you mother effer, you are banned to the land of failed household appliances, forever.

My husband just laid mouse traps, that’s right, mouse traps under my settee and behind my wood stove, as the cats were so afraid of that monstrosity?  They would literally crap their pants-or, crap my floor is more like it.

I have become such a germ phobe that I wear flip flops in my own shower, for crying out loud, after I have scoured it with Clorox.  And God forbid the shower curtain touches me, I wince in disbelief each and every time it happens.

Did I tell you my brother, mon frere, my amigo is coming tomorrow?  I may be a withered nub of nothing when he arrives, but you can bet your sweet ass my house will be clean.

Elijah

Let’s get this song out of the way, shall we?  I have been reading about Elijah in the book of Kings-and that was supposed to be my “Elijah” song.  So, after realizing that I have been singing my heart out to the wrong lyrics for twenty years, I just said, screw it, use it.

I have been doing quite a bit of bible-dipping (a technique I picked up from the book Running With Scissors-a book I highly recommend) in which you pray about an issue in your life, or, like me-pray for what Jesus wants me to know this day.  I flip through the pages of my bible, and let’s just say-99.9 percent of the time, he gives me the exact wisdom I need at that exact moment in time.

So, anyway, I was reading about Elijah, and I came upon a bio on his life and ministry.  The words that caught my breath were these:  Elijah was sent to confront, not comfort.  Elijah spoke God’s words to a king who often rejected his message because of the messenger.

Elijah chose to carry out his ministry to God by himself, and as a result he was often misunderstood by his peers.  His one mistake was not to trust others.  This is where it gets good peeps, after the miracle of Elijah defeating the prophets of Baal, Queen Jezebel threatened to kill him.  He felt afraid, depressed and abandoned.

Holy crap on a cracker that spoke to me.  Goosebumps when the aha moment struck.  I have been in situations (stories to come) that no one finds themselves in, mostly jobs, sometimes churches….where I am left burning bridges for opening my mouth.  I have been fired for standing up for some injustice or another, more than twenty times.  No exaggeration.   And each and every time I found myself in an unholy war?  It never sunk in.  God was working in those scenarios, mostly at my expense, (I totally get his sense of humor) by using me to open my huge mug and cause absolute chaos (was never a small thing, and always involved a major life transformation.  I can look back now and laugh, but some of the crap I went through?  Jesus mighty it was a three ring circus….for twenty plus years.

Everything makes sense now.  It truly does.  I am a modern day Elijah.  Who would have thunk?

 

She’s Got the Look…….

via Daily Prompt: Glaringhttps://youtu.be/8gRRou8rJgc

Blame it on my Irish blood, but I have been known to give the evil eye, and judging from what friends and family alike have noticed, it will kill you dead.  My husband has tried to break me of the habit of staring at people, and for the most part?  I don’t believe it is as much of a habit any longer.  But looking back, I believe that my temper has down right terrified those who have been the subject of my ire.

As a teenager, I suffered from anorexia nervosa.  I still have an eating disorder, and it is on my bucket list to have it addressed at some point.  Don’t get me wrong, I eat, and no longer suffer from bulimia, but I will only eat one meal a day, and this has led to some pretty awkward situations, let me tell you.   Give my mother in law a call, and ask her about holidays with me, I am sure she’d be thrilled to get some things off her chestSadly, I don’t even give myself a break during holidays, and she has glared at me more than once.  I don’t blame her, anymore anyways.

The point is my anorexia made me mean.  I didn’t know it until years of therapy and research later, but I was starving to death so my emotions and electrolytes were off.  My sister and I shared a bedroom phone.  It is legend in the suburbs of Philadelphia that I scared the absolute life force out of her friends.  They would hang up if I answered.  Looking back, I can’t even believe it was me.

I come in a small, 5 feet, 0 inches and weigh about 135 pounds.  But hell hath no fury, and I mean no fury like that of a daddy’s girl who doesn’t get her way, or who has been treated unjustly, or even worse-seen other vulnerable people be taken advantage of.  I have fought for what I believe in since I can remember.  I remember, in sixth grade?  A little snot named Kim Something was the Crossing Guard.  She had a chip on her shoulder that manifested in all of it’s glory on poor, unsuspecting, why does this shit always happen to me? girls and boys.  I remember one day I spit out my gum and she wrote me a ticket.  And there I am, at Belmont Elementary, in her face screaming “IT’S BIODEGRADABLE YOU ASSHOLE!!!!!!”

Another incident comes to mind:  I was a waitress through my twenties at a Houlihan’s in King of Prussia.  I loved the people I worked with, but there were a few exceptions.  One afternoon, hung over and praying my station would close, another waitress butted in line for the computer.  I snapped.

Why don’t you do another line, Sady?  Go do another line so you can be faster at doing nothing but getting in my fucking way.”  Yeppers.  Yelled it right out into the dining room.  My boss was literally speechless.

I pushed Mark Folsom down the church steps after he picked on my brother one Monday evening, after CCD.  He broke his front teeth out, and I couldn’t have been more pleased.  He didn’t try that again for a long while, not until High School-where my brother surprised the crapola out of him by knocking him out in the hallway.

As Christians we often presume that we are to be as meek as church mice.  Jesus overturned a table or two at the Temple, and standing for something means not falling for anybody else’s bullshit.  God made me to roar like a lion when something is evil, and I pity the fool who mistakes my kindness for meekness.

Don’t let anyone take you out of your integrity.  Fight hard for what is just, and remember-you didn’t really do it if you didn’t get caught.  🙂

 

Love Lives On

This has been a Summer of profound loss-and I am doing my very best to keep it together right now.  The subject matter is loss of a beloved pet, so if you want to move on, well, I understand.

We live on a farmette, seven acres of trails, orchards, gardens and cats.  At one point we were feeding 17 stray cats-we didn’t have a pot to piss in, but we fed those babies.  When you live out in the country, people drop off unwanted animals.   They come in all sorts and sizes, and the end result is always the same-we love them, they pass on, we bury them.  In the Winter of 2004, we were cat free.  During a blizzard, I happened to look out of my laundry room window-there she was, a beaten up, starving kitten.  It took months for her to acknowledge me, but I fed her twice a day and as she was full of piss and vinegar, tended to her wounds, her babies, and her voracious appetite.  We couldn’t afford to have her fixed at the time, and she was the grandmother/mother of every cat I now own.  I named her Precious, because she was just that.

The other night I awoke to an ungodly sound.  Jesse, my golden retriever and I headed for the front door-and as soon as I opened it?  The sound disappeared.  The other morning, I heard it again, even with my headphones on.  A sinking feeling in my gut, I counted each and every feline:  where was Precious?  It is impossible to check every inch of this property, but she never misses a meal, and in my heart of hearts I know she is no longer mine.  We never stop loving the animals who have passed, they are our children and the pain may soften, but guaranteed, it will put you down on your knees again: a picture, a song, or even a trip to the vet can cause a reemergence of grief.

In loving memory of Precious Hoffman.  Your heart will live on.