Rainy Sunday, Mother’s Day
Mama was at home
I took a shovel from the shed
And cracked her collarbone
Then I used the handle part
to gouge out her right eye
To my surprise it burst inside
then shed upon her cheek
Oh, Mama, silly woman
I told you I’d be back
to stop the strife
to end your life
then stuff you in a sack
I KNOW you have pet peeves. We all do. Here are some of mine!
Yesterday, a man walking in front of me decided to spit. The wind was blowing MY way. Gross, folks! Think before you do nasty things!
Last night at dinner, a man sat a couple of tables across from me and chewed with his mouth SO open that I was amazed the food stayed IN his mouth when he chewed. Gross, dude. Stop it!
Last week, a grown man belched loudly in a restaurant and never said, “Excuse me or Sorry.” He looked proud of his sickening accomplishment. What’s up with these people? Were they raised in a barn?
Ever have people standing waaaay too close to you in a line? If I can smell your breath, your lack of deodorant, or feel your breath on my neck, you are TOO CLOSE. Ick.
Ah, yes . . . the person on the cell phone who is talking too loudly over a meal. Never mind how rude that is to whom the person is dining but the one on the cell phone is often yelling into the phone and disrupting all of the diners around her. Please put the phone down when you are at a table, people.
The public in general has adopted many frustrating habits. I’m from the South, and my Mama taught me better than that!
I woke at 3:30 this morning with a thought running through my head; write. I’ve been reading a book about how to get a first draft written in just 30 days. Well, I’m taking longer than 30 days but it’s working. Feels good to be on this decade-long project again with a fresh eye.
Are you one of the millions of Americans who think he/she has a good book in his/her head? If so, start it. Don’t sit paralyzed because you think you need an extensive outline or a dozen developed characters to start. Just begin writing and see where it takes you. If nothing else, you’ll enjoy the process. There are no hard and fast rules.
Writing has come naturally to me since I was a young girl. I churned out poetry, stories, and goofy limericks. Recently, I’ve penned some hilarious Senyru poems (like a haiku but funny and usually about people).
Want to share what you have written? Send me a note and maybe I can offer a suggestion or two. Let me know in the comments section below. I have many subscribers to this blog, so I can’t help all.
Take away? Please put your fingers to the keyboard and express yourself. I’ll leave you with a Senyru poem for the day (5-7-5 syllable lines). Have an awesome one!
Nurse Anne took samples
Samples of pee to the lab
Her work pissed her off
LOL! Sorry it’s tacky but it’s what I came up with in the moment. Bye, all . . .
Aloha hoa! Our part of Maui (Kihei on the Wailea border) is as lovely as ever. Look at the color variations on this plant. Beautiful.
We headed toward Mt Haleakala yesterday. It’s the larger of two dormant volcanoes here on the island. It’s summit is about 10,000 feet above sea level. Pretty darn high in the clouds and vog. What is vog? It’s volcanic “fog” or smog that drifts to Maui from the big island of Hawaii. It consists of volcanic dust and gases. Thank you for the residual dry, intermittent cough, Mt Kilauea (the active volcano on the main island that IS always active – but is very approachable). Back to our Mt Haleakala trip . . . the vog hung atop and around the midsection the volcano. Here are a few pics of the vog, and it doesn’t move slowly like fog but very quickly.
As we ascended the mountain, Dave’s ears popped, and I popped two Dramamine and two Ibuprofen for sinus pressure! After seeing one guy puking from his Jeep, I decided better safe than sorry. The roads were quite curvy. That combined with altitude changes from 2500′ to 10,000′ then back down again, it’s a recipe for feeling like poop if one is not careful. Add the fact that the temp at bottom was 81 degrees and was 57 and windy at the summit. Glad we took jackets with hoods.
I did see pretty trees on the excursion. Turns out, they aren’t native to the island and change soil chemistry. I speak of the Mexican Weeping Pine. It’s gorgeous, though.
These pines are highly invasive and displace endemic and endangered species’ of other plants.
One funny sign we encountered (and believed) was this one:
We passed it quickly as we turned a curve. I couldn’t believe my eyes. What WERE these Hookers? Native birds? Or was that what hitch hikers were called here? hitcher, hooker? I told Dave I was going to ask the park ranger when we reached the top. Thank goodness there was no ranger in sight for me to gab with. I can only imagine how THAT conversation might have played out.
“What are these Hookers I’ve heard about? Birds?”
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
“I saw a sign a ways back that hookers could be picked up in 800 feet. What’s a Hooker?”
Okay, laugh if you must.
There were also NeNe geese here and there. They are the State Bird of Hawaii and make a soft sound like “Nay Nay,” so, were aptly named.
It was a fun afternoon, and neither of us got motion sickness or a headache or fell down the side of the crater we were so close to.
Love ya!
Love you guys! Thanks for reading! I’m getting new readers each week. XO!
And, uh, this green below may be the only green I get back home with from Vegas OR Maui. 😉
When PMS & ADHD pair up, people nearby had better make themselves scarce. Go run errands, work on an outdoor project, visit the library . . . just get away from the woman with the fiery mood!
I say this because I am that woman some months. Right now, in fact, I’m dealing with this pair of clashing hormonal and mental hurricanes. I’ve told my husband some terribly awful things. I’ve alienated my step child. I’ve thrown a glass and have angrily folded/put away three large loads of laundry. That was all in the last hour. Lord help me. Lord help them.
I’m not saying there weren’t reasons why I responded negatively but it shouldn’t have been to the degree I reacted. I know these things intellectually but can’t physically stop the feelings – and have been trying to stay away from loved ones so I don’t hurt them further.
I’ve only known I had ADHD for a few months, and this is the first month the disorder has clashed with a bout of PMS. It feels awful. Like I have no control of my emotions or actions.
I’ll spend the day in my room with a book and ipad. And probably some cookies. Hopefully the cats don’t make me mad . . . Only Kidding!
Lord help us all ~
It’s almost Easter. People ask me what I’m doing for the holiday. Isn’t Easter . . . colored eggs, bunnies, chocolate, family, and church?
I’m on a diet (still) and won’t buy the chocolate. My family is scattered all over Texas and Arkansas. I’m in a faith crisis of sorts, so I probably won’t go to church, and I don’t want a bunny to care for. I’m not going to color eggs but I would like to boil some and pickle them in beet juice.
So, that’s what I’m doing for Easter. Pickled eggs.
My life is so exciting sometimes I can hardly believe it.
😉
Denial – the action of declaring something to be untrue
I deny so well that if the behavior were an Olympic sport, I’d have the Gold. Actually, no, we’d all be in the running for the Gold medal.
In this post, I’m wondering why most of us walk around acting like we are perfectly fine, our world is 100% on track, and nothing is bothering us. We smile and exchange pleasantries but are inside often lonely, hurting, frustrated, confused, or angry. Why can’t we open up more with one another?
“You doing okay these days?”
“Oh, yeah. Great. You?”
“Sure thing. How are the kids?”
The older I’ve gotten, the more open and honest I’ve become. It’s liberating yet embarrassing at times – because others don’t share their weaknesses or what’s wrong in their own lives. Leaves me feeling alienated, y’know, or different from the norm? What really “is” the norm? I admitted to starting on antidepressants again the other day to a friend. She blurted out that she’s on about three! I felt closer to her immediately. The honesty was air-clearing.
Ever feel completely overwhelmed? I did about a month ago (when I got back on antidepressants). I felt like I was drowning in a flood of cold, dirty water but nobody paid attention. I realized I was denying my feelings to those closest to me, trying to make the bad feelings go away. But they didn’t. I reached out for help . . . before my chimney went under. 😉
So, can we try to reach out to one another more? Share our truths more? I won’t judge you; I promise! I may suggest a counselor but I’d never judge you. 🙂 Let’s stop “pretending” everything is okay and going about our days in denial about how much something may be bothering us or altering our lives. Stop biking in the flood, my friend, and admit there are about two feet of water at your feet! The rest of us will help you dry off and find a canoe.
You’d better watch out! One day you could wake up running an errand of death!
It’s 100 degrees outside today. I’ve been on crutches for weeks because of a strained knee muscle, so I went to Walmart for the first time today – alone – because I’m also in the midst of a break-up after a 5-year relationship. The outing looked pleasing enough.
Once at the store, I realized I forgot to wear the compression brace for the healing knee, so I hobbled into the box store and leaned on a cart while I removed “the list” from my purse. Why did everything have to be at separate ends of the store? I needed nothing in the middle, either.
I saw a woman worker whom I recognized as an old “friend” from a cultist (not really but almost) church I once attended – back when I believed the notion that a woman was second to a man. Whatever – This woman worker in the blue Walmart vest looked up and saw me but didn’t speak. Beeotch! Real Christian of you, Phyllis . . . oops . . . I mean, worker.
Anyway, if the 100 degree humid, heat weren’t enough, I was having hot flashes in the Beauty aisle while watching a couple of 30-year-old women discuss nail polish. GAWD! Get the hell outta my way. I need cat litter!
The ankle on the same side as the recently injured knee sent a few pains into my calf. I limped to avoid putting too much weight on the leg. I wish I’d remembered the compression brace for that knee.
I went up an down aisles – throwing items into my ginormous gray cart. I hate when I buy too many canned goods because they’re difficult to handle and are heavy. I wound up with 4 bags full of canned goods and glass jars. Figures.
After a too-long trek, I stood in line behind an elderly woman in an electric wheelchair. I didn’t want to walk the extra 25 feet to the other check-out lane that may have been an easier and quicker wait. Why do we end up with all of the heavy stuff like canned goods in the bottom of the cart and the bread, chips, and eggs on top? When it’s time to check out, we have to either move it ALL around to reach the heavy stuff again (that stuff needs to be in the bottom of the new cart, right? Not sitting on our bread) or just say, “Crap on it!” and stack the thin plastic bags as best we can . . . for the THIRD TIME?!
The check-out girl was extremely nice and dressed kind of Goth. I loved it. I pushed past the hot flash that drenched me in sweat, and I exited the building into the sauna that was the outdoors.
Once home (finally, this errand from hell was almost over), I put several bags of “cold stuff” on my arm and let myself inside. It was sort of hot in the house, too. I had left the temp on the A/C a bit high to save some money. My cat, Rigby, laid right in the middle of where I was walking into the kitchen. I stepped over him and popped the A/C back to 60-something.
I made two more trips from car to kitchen, each time stepping over Rigby’s fat butt. Evil little animal. I saw my future of shopping alone, putting it away alone, and eating alone. Break-ups suck.
The final trip was with canned goods and jars. Heavy but at least it was the last trip in the scorching heat. The under wire in my bra dug into my sweaty skin. The 22-year-old neighbor guy was across the street, getting into his truck, when I turned and then heard a loud SMASH! The huge jar of picante sauce had torn through the recycled Walmart bag and committed suicide at my feet – while a lone can of black beans rolled and rolled down my driveway and into the street. I left it.
I left it and went inside. I will deal with it later. I will not lose my cool. Head held high, I walked over Rigby, who stretched out to touch my foot as I passed, and laid the remaining cans on the table.
I had done it. I had stayed the course, dodged the bullets and had come out alive. Yes, I lost some things. We’ll call them casualties of war – but I saved the rest. I did my job. The perishables were in the fridge and the light bulbs in the cabinet. This errand was done – for now.
1) Stay very busy so you don’t have to address him often. Work, hobbies, outings with friends or family, outings alone, yard work, etc. will keep you occupied and productive.
2) Pretend he is just a roommate who pays “rent” each week. The income is pretty nice.
3) Plan ahead to reach your ultimate goals. Education, job, living arrangements. Write down what you want/need and then follow – step by step. Once you turn the boat over, chaos will ensue, so have a plan first.
4) Meet with a good friend and vent when you need to release steam or seek advice. Or try blogging. It’s an amazing stress reliever.
5) Stop thinking about how things “should” be. They are what they are.
6) Improve yourself – physically, mentally, and spiritually. You are deserving of wonderful things.
7) Love on your cats or dogs. They love you unconditionally and like when you show them you feel the same.
8) Speak to the jerk when passing in the hallway, meeting in the kitchen, or sitting in the same room.
9) Learn to un-care about said jerk. What once was love has obviously become a convenience of living arrangements – sharing the bills so to speak.
10) Realize that you are worthy of real love and a partner who will dote on you and appreciate you.
Get out ASAP if there is violence but if not, and you want to plan a smoother exit route, follow the steps above.
I am not a medical professional. Do not consider my advice as professional. 😉
Everydayclimb's Blog 