Go Ahead... Laugh.

This week has been so awful I don't even know where to begin. Maybe I should start with the vicious murder of my laying hens by some unknown creature. I found their feathers covering the yard when I went to feed them on Monday morning. Hubby decided the chickens should be let out during the day which was fine with me but I asked him to please close the door to the coop when he fed in the evenings so the chickens would be safe overnight. Guess what... For some reason closing the door to the coop was just too much trouble. I closed it whenever I was outside but I am normally in the house cooking supper so I couldn't always get to it.

Not having fresh eggs is the least of it. One of the hens was named Loverly. She has been here for a couple of years and she was sweet as honey. She would run to meet me every time I was outside and followed me around clucking as if we were carrying on a conversation. She ate treats from my hand and pecked at my ankles if I tried to ignore her. Yes, I loved that hen and it breaks my heart to think she died in terror while being torn to pieces. I keep getting mental images of that so sleeping has been kind of hard to do.

To add insult to injury, Hubby went to the Verizon store to get a new battery for my mom's phone. Easy task, right? We've had the same phones for four years. The numbers were rubbing off mine but it worked just fine. It was a simple phone. You know... the kind that makes calls, sends text messages and wakes me up in the morning. All I ever needed in a phone was right there in my hand. I have dropped that phone on rocks while riding my mule and it was none the worse for it. The goats have stepped on it and kicked it under the milk stand. It kept right on working. I loved that phone. Not much survives my clumsiness but that phone did it with ease. And then Hubby comes in with a Droid. WTF??? Folks, I have no fucking idea what to do with that thing.

Hubby likes to brag to people he got something fancy for me when in reality he buys what he wants and then justifies it by pawning it off on me. I spent 90 minutes with a nice young man at the Verizon store trying to learn how to work that damn machine. The very first thing I said as I entered the building was "Honey, the next time a big, inbred fucktard comes in here, points at something and says 'Oooh, shiney' please consider the people at home trying to put food on the table before you let the aforementioned fucktard buy anything'. The nice young man, Aaron, listened as I explained to him that a widget was not a good thing when I was growing up and that I had no idea what a wiki was but evidently they weren't worth a shit because it was all over the news that they leaked. He said "Pizza Hut" to the phone and a map came up. I very gently explained to Aaron that the Pizza Hut was a mile up the road and had been there for years. The only places I ever go is WalMart, Food Lion and my milking room. I've been going to Food Lion for 20 years without a map and I'm reasonably certain I can go another 20 without getting lost. Even the goats can find the milkroom without a map. I haven't been to a restaurant since I visited my children last June so that app is useless to me. Should I get to go back to San Francisco, my son has an Iphone and he can find the restaurants. My computer is four feet to the right of my favorite chair so I don't need a Droid to read my email. The TV is across the living room from that same chair. I have DirecTV (thanks to my nephew) and Netflix (thanks to my son). I have basic knowledge of the remote and can set the DVR to record my favorite shows. I live in a pissant Biblethumper town in BFE. Why on earth do I need a Droid? If I lived near civilization and had something resembling a life it would be different but...??? When I left Aaron, I still couldn't make a phone call. Less than 24 hours later as I struggled for ten minutes trying to type a text message I succeeded in dropping the phone and smashing it. Hubby got another one that evening but since Aaron has gone on vacation this phone isn't set up like the first one and if I couldn't work that one, I certainly can't make this one do anything.

I have spent the last five days sobbing until I'm sick at my stomach and my eyes are swollen shut. Hubby thinks it's hilarious to watch me try to figure something out while he and his family laugh their asses off. You would think I'd be used to being the butt of the family jokes by now but in reality it hurts just as much as it ever did. I went with my nephew to the Verizon store and we traded phones. He has the Droid and I've got something that's all scratched up and says "What are you looking at fucker" as a ringtone. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about that but I am pretty sure I need to find something that won't prompt Lily and Laney to ask what a fucker is. *sigh* And it's only the middle of the week...

Life Goes On

Help me, I'm sorry but I have to be the most depressing asshat in the universe. I don't mean to be. It just happens that way sometimes. I've even put off writing because I didn't want to come off so down and out. I'm not always that way but it seems to sound that way no matter what.

Also, I have someone hanging over me all the time so when I feel like writing I can't. Honestly, do you feel comfortable with someone leaning over you even if it's reading the newspaper? Nobody reads this shit so I want to be able to pour it out. I haven't yet been able to do that.

Yes, I'm still fat. I've lost five pounds but with a stomach so large I can't bend over without losing my breath so fucking what. I'm giving it a halfway honest effort so shut your whore mouth. I've thrown away all the skinny pants. With any luck that will be what makes me lose weight.

I haven't been riding with Sunday in a year. I miss her so much it hurts. I meet her at the fence each morning after I milk the goats and feed her treats. She's pasture crazy and I'm just nuts. Maybe someday we'll meet in the middle. I miss her so much. I wonder now if I can even get my big ass into the saddle.

My brilliant and beautiful daughter was home for a visit in January. She brought her intended, Maggie home with her. I love Maggie. She is a gorgeous person and she worships my daughter. Who could ask for anything better? I have worried for years about Sarah. She's never been one to chase skirts and she's had very few serious relationships. I can tell she loves Maggie and more importantly for me, Maggie loves Sarah. They are moving in together today. I wish I could be there to help them. Since I can't be there, I love you girls! Be well and be happy.

In my boring existence, I am entering the local chili cookoff. I know... duh. But, in my defense, I make a fairly good chili. We like it anyway. I thought if for no other reason it gets me out of the house and it would be fun. I'll let you know how that turns out.

Seriously... I need to get to this more often. It helps to put things on 'paper' so to speak. It would be easier if I didn't have to wait til the middle of the night to do it!

I need a vacation. Hmmmm.... Florida or Oklahoma? Who the hell am I fooling? Until some money starts coming in and there is someone other than me to milk the goats where the hell am I going?

I want to shop for shoes. That would make me feel soooo much better!

Happy Frikkin' New Year

As much as I hate to sound like every other depressed asshole in the world, I really hate the holidays. I love Thanksgiving. Rather, I used to love Thanksgiving. My family would get together and we would cook an enormous meal that everyone ate with fantastic abandon. We haven't had a Thanksgiving dinner in a couple of years now. I don't know what happened but it makes me really sad.

Christmas on the other hand I totally despise. If I could somehow jump the calendar from Thanksgiving day to New Year's day I would. Once upon a time I had a magnificent collection of ornaments collected for my children. Due to yet another of my bad decisions the huge box of ornaments was taken from me and after that, it hardly seemed worth the effort. And yet I tried. I honestly tried. I made all new ornaments and decorated tree after tree. I smiled until I thought I would puke but I kept doing it. Finally the kids grew up and moved away. There has been only one tree in my living room since that day. It only happened because Luke and Sarah came home for Christmas at the same time. I can't tell you where any ornaments are if they exist at all.

I dread the holidays as if it were the black plague. I sit here alone every year and this year the worst thing was when on tv someone complained that sitting home alone meant nobody loves you. Yeah. Go ahead. Rub it in.

As if I don't feel bad enough about myself, I have gained another 10 pounds. I weigh more now than I ever have in my life. I am so uncomfortable. I'm paying attention to what I eat and cutting down on portions but I've never been one to eat enormous amounts of food to begin with so cutting down is rather hard. I'm beginning to wonder if I can live off a nightly spoonful of peanut butter.

I'm not looking forward to another year. Every year is worse than the one before. The highpoint of this year will be the day I get my walking cane because I can barely make it from point A to point B without something to hold onto. I can no longer raise my right arm over my head and my right hip will just barely hold me up. I have never been one to sit around doing nothing. This shit is getting the best of me and I can't seem to stop it. I'm trying to figure out how I can keep doing things because when I can't get up and go anymore, what's left?

So, it's Christmas

Ho to the third and all that rot.

I'm not a big fan of Christmas. I used to be. I loved it. The kids were little and Christmas morning was loads of fun. My family used to get together and cook an enormous meal. It was fantastic. These days I sit alone in front of the TV all day. Big whoop.

People complain about the cooking but I love roasting a turkey and making dressing from the recipe that has been handed down from so far back I don't know from whence it came. The stuff rocks. Putting the 'BIG' meal together has always been so much fun for me. I can never express how much I miss it. Worse yet, I'm the only person who knows how to make the dressing. When I die, it's gone. Believe me, I've tried to get someone else to learn how to make it but these days nobody seems to care. It hurts my heart that things have turned out this way.

My children live on the other side of the country. They called me on Thanksgiving. They were at their father's house, also in California. When I hung the phone up I cried. Not only did Greg have our children there but he also had the spouses at his house. I cried because I will never have that gathering happen to me. I cried because I miss them so much and I cried because I was so goddamn jealous of Greg.

To top off this joyous holiday, my neighbor died. He couldn't have been 40 yet. I'm sure the heart attack was somehow related to the drugs he enjoyed on a daily basis. I used to worry his small children would wander into the meth lab he had set up in the out building and blow us all up. He was a nice enough guy to chat with and I do feel sorry for his children (all 6 or 7 of them with I don't know how many women) because Christmas just isn't going to be the same for them. To top that off, instead of the screeching from next door I've become accustomed to (our houses are not close, the fights were LOUD and usually followed up in nine months with another kid) I am now forced to listen to three harpies fighting over where to bury the guy. Seriously, an ex-wife wants him buried in the plot next to hers. He's been married to the current wife for nearly 10 years and yet his ex-wife wants him buried next to her? Welcome to Screwtown. (shaking my head because I've been here all my life and this shit still flips me out) His mother has spaces all ready to go for herself and all her sons. I suppose she figured they all wanted to form a circle around Mom in the afterlife. Kinda weird if you ask me. But even all that isn't as weird as the widow planning to bury him - wait for it - next to the other dead husband. Yep, this is the second husband to die on her. Maybe she plans to plant herself between the two of them. Either way... c.r.e.e.p.y.

Another fine how do you do happened yesterday. Hubby has been laid off again. Oh boy. Starting off another year on unemployment. I had hoped to use the tax returns to build a porch because the steps to the trailer are caving in and my old ass is going to take a header very soon if it isn't repaired. Instead I will be taking the steer and the hog to slaughter so the freezers will be full of food. I suppose when the steps cave in I'll hang a rope so I can pull myself up and into the door.

I have always been poor and I've always been white, but I was never poor white trash until I got tangled up with this bunch. In my next life I plan to pay more attention to the choices I make.

Well, the clock just turned over and it's officially Christmas. I will still get up way before daylight and trudge out to start chores just as soon as I can see what I'm doing. I haven't had a holiday in years. Nobody ever says 'Hey, sleep late and I'll do the chores'. Not on Christmas or Mother's Day or my birthday... never. Maybe I'll go grocery shopping tomorrow. I've put it off as long as I can because I didn't want to fight my way through all the crazy people.

This place has taken all the celebration out of me. Time for a beer.

When Life Sucks

I'm out of pain meds. It sucks when the arthritis targets everything from my earlobes to the joints in my toes.

10:30 go to bed

11:00 get up and put heating pad that Marvelous Maggie made for me into the nuker.

11:02 go back to bed and wrap heating pad around whatever it reaches that hurts.

11:30 get up and turn TV on.

11:33 put heating pad back in nuker.

11:35 tune into Letterman and wrap heating pad around me.

11:37 revel in the fact that Robert Downey Jr. is on Letterman

12:00 finally made it through Letterman's obligatory shit to RD Jr. He's wonderful.

12:15 tuned to CSI:NY on USA

It is now 1:52 a.m. and I'm finished with the bottle of wine. I hate being drunk on a normal day but I especially hate being drunk when it doesn't accomplish the target goal of getting rid of the pain.

Maybe later I will go into how much it hurt when my sister gave up on me today when we met for lunch. I won't do that again.

I want to apologize to my mom who complained of pain and who for years I wrote off as being a giant wuss... It has all come back to me with a vengeance.

For some reason my PA cut my pain meds and here I am in the middle of the night desperately wishing I could go to sleep. Lily and Laney will be here in 3 hours. I will be totally crazy in pain when they get here and will not be able to deal with them with any sort of patience. I'm sorry babies. I love you. Honestly I do.

They think I don't love them. I wish I was dead. For a thousand reasons, I wish I was dead. When you're dead the pain stops, right? Please tell me the pain stops. I don't know how much longer I can take it.

Ah, the Good 'Ol Days

It feels like forever but it's only been 18 months since Hubby lost his job. Hubby builds bridges and he's damn good at it. You would never know it from the shit he slaps together around here. Every single building/shed that acts as a feed room/stall/barn is collapsing in on itself. This place is a health hazard. Fences are falling down and if I can't figure out some way to stop the steer from flipping the water trough I'm going to shoot his ass and bury him. OK, maybe not because I like steaks and it won't be long before Beefcake will be headed for slaughter. Hell, even the supports underneath this dump of a trailer I live in are collapsing. I'm rather curious as to how this is all going to end. Good to know I have a sturdy, warm sleeping bag.

Hubby got a new job about five months ago. It pays 1/3 less than what he was making but it is more than unemployment so hallelujah on that one. He wakes me up on the four mornings a week he goes to work (Believe me it's on purpose. Gods forbid I should sleep while he is awake even though on weekends/holidays he sleeps until 11 while I'm up at 5) and comes home every evening at whatever the time the job allows. Sure, he gets up 30 minutes before me during the week and he comes home late every once in a while but when he has time off I still get up before daylight and do the same thing I do every other day of the week/month/year/decade/millenium. I am grateful I have a husband who works because around these parts that isn't a given. This county is Big #1 in meth production and has been for several years. I could be living w.i.t.h a meth junkie instead of living between them. My big bitch is I gave up my life for something that was promised but never happened. That has resulted in some bitterness. As it is, I do what I'm supposed to do every day, 24-7-365. I never get a day off. It's the same. All the time. It will make you fucking crazy. I gave up a job I loved with all my heart to make this marriage work. I kept up my end of the bargain. I'm still waiting on the other end.

Hubby worked out of town for six or seven years and it was wonderful. It is probably the reason we haven't killed each other before now. He came home on Friday night and left on Sunday night. It was a dream come true in more ways than one. You see, I have learned to like being alone. I like sitting quietly in front of the TV and crocheting my hard little heart out while a glass of wine or a cold beer sits on the table beside me. When Hubby is here he talks incessantly about everything in the universe I care absolutely nothing about. Would you want to hear all about how Hubby is the be all-end all of construction and how so and so working his first job in construction made a stupid mistake? I don't like making fun of people or using them to make me feel better about myself (unless it's the women on People of WalMart whose asses hang out of their too short shorts but that's only while I'm here by myself and never something I talk about.) I have never met the people Hubby works with and I don't want to so why would I give a shit about what they say all day? That coupled with Hubby's commentary on why he is always right and everyone else is always wrong (as well as the fact that nearly every word out of his mouth is a lie) pushes me to press the volume button on the remote and hope he gets the hint. He never does.

If I could only go into why I don't pack my few clothes, hit the road and never look back you might understand. I used to hear/read stories about women who took shit from their husbands but never left. I used to boldly announce that they must like it because they stayed with the bastards. I am not suffering physical beatings but the mental and emotional abuse can be just as painful. Hubby follows me through the house yapping like a little dog. It can make you crazy. I do what I do to keep things smoothed over and avoid being picked on or pushed around. I have no place to go and no way to get there. Even if those two problems were solved I have no way to support myself. I'm stuck here until one of us dies. At this point, I don't care which one of us goes first.

Tonight it is rainy and warm but it's the best evening I've had in months. Hubby has gone to Raleigh and won't be back until tomorrow evening. I didn't have to cook supper and I wasn't cleaning the kitchen at 10 pm. It's the best vacation I've had in 18 months (not counting San Francisco of course). I knew having Hubby around was a lot of extra work but you know how much time I had to myself tonight simply because he wasn't here??? Three hours!! Three hours to myself just by not having him around to wait on. I have so missed having time to myself.

He will be back tomorrow night and I will be washing dishes in the middle of the night because I have to work around his schedule. Believe it or not, he works a full time job and still gets three or four hours more sleep per day than I do. The best part is he gets his all in one chunk. I am lucky if I get six hours sleep in two hour sessions. After all I just chase toddlers, take care of and clean up after eleventy hundred animals, take care of the house and once all that's done, cook for and clean up after Hubby who thinks the world was put here to wait on him. Some day I might be able to go into the details of why I am here and have no choice in the matter. Until then, I am loving this one day to myself and praying that I get another one soon.

My philosophy... If there was a god, I would be dead. If there was a merciful god, he would be dead.

For now, it's quiet and I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.

It isn't over yet

What happened to staying at home, minding my own business and drinking myself to death? Not exactly something that will win a Nobel prize but shit, it's something to strive for. Right? My arthritis has been acting up so bad it has me nauseated. A person can only take so many pain meds without wishing something would help without putting one in a coma.

Saturday was the worst. I got up at 6 a.m. as usual. Hubby was snoring away... as usual. At 7:30 I had barely accomplished cleaning the chicks (I clean them every morning. They need to go outside.) and feeding my parrot. I was in so much pain it can't be described except to say, kill me now. I didn't want to deal with the consequences but I finally decided that falling to pieces in the yard and lying there until someone found me wasn't really how I wanted to spend my Saturday so I made myself go wake the Hubby. He got up in fifteen or so minutes and I told him I was going to bed. 90 minutes later I was still listening to him complain about work, animals, whatever, etc. The pain meds were working their magic and I didn't care one whit about what Hubby had to say anymore. Not that I cared to begin with but I have to act like I do or pay the price. I warmed my bean thing in the nuker and crawled what was left of me into bed. The only reason I got out of bed that day was to warm my beaner thinger and partake of more Vicodin and Vodka. It was a very sleepy and painful day. Hubby spent the day stomping through the house and slamming doors. Why should he have to do any of the chores around here? That's what he keeps me for. I spent 18 days in California this past June. That is the only time in the past 2 1/2 years Hubby has had to do any of my chores. And yes, he was pissed off because he had to do them on Saturday. I'm not allowed to get sick.

Sunday (the day, not the mule) didn't start out much better but I knew the animals hadn't seen fresh water since I had given it to them last so I got up and dragged myself out to do the chores. It is Monday and my left leg still feels like it has been slammed in a door and should have the most awesome bruise known to mankind. My girls were here today and bless their little hearts, they want to sit with me in my chair and try to do it without touching my leg. It's so sweet to have them snuggle me without hurting me. Lily is four and she has more compassion than Hubby.

Tomorrow will begin bright and early with girls coming at 6:30. I hope my legs are working better because I thought of a good place to take them and I need to be able to walk. I'm going to have to break down and buy myself a cane. I see it coming and I hate it. This getting old shit sucks.

Back in NC and lovin' it... yeah, right.

I've been home for several days and haven't had time to do much more than the normal chores. After being in San Francisco this place is hard to get used to again. It took nearly two weeks for the manure stains on my feet to finally disappear and only two days for my feet to start looking like I never wash them. Do you have any idea what it feels like to scrub your feet with a Scotch Brite pad? Try it the next time you're feeling masochistic. It's a real hoot.

While I was gone a couple of hawks took up residence and picked off most of the chicks. There were over 30 running around when I left. Not a single chick survived. To add insult to injury, there are now foxes coming into the yard and killing whatever they can get their jaws into. When the house dogs started wailing like it was the end of the world this afternoon I looked out the window and saw a fox standing in the driveway. Jude (one of the Great Pyrs) came running but by the time he made his appearance the fox had leaped into Tinker's (rescue Hackney pony) stall and disappeared out the back. A quick headcount showed one of the older chicks I had raised in my living room was gone. She had broken her leg when she was just a few days old so I brought her in and kept her in a playpen until she was healed. She was a cutie too. I could hold out my hands and she would come for me to pick her up. Damn foxes. Until now I didn't have anything against them but that's most likely because they haven't been around before. I'm pretty pissed at them now. I don't imagine the outcome is going to be good.

To top it all off I found out I'm the subject of a serious rumor accusing me of telling tales that would ruin a young girl's work with her goats. I don't even know where to begin telling about it except to say it isn't true. I have always thought the world of the girls in that family and would never hurt them. Their mother is a control freak and not so nice a person. I could never see her again and it would be too soon but her daughters I have always loved. It has broken my heart to hear all the bullshit being told. I suppose I'll just sit back and let it all die down... if it does. This isn't the first time this particular person has set out to stir shit and cause trouble. I doubt it will be the last. Don't you get tired of people who have nothing more to do than sit around thinking up shitty things to do to other people? I wonder what it's like to have such a life? It must suck.

The best thing is that Sunday didn't forget me. I was afraid she would pout and be a diva for a few days but for once she didn't do that. She ran to me begging for goodies and lots of loving. I was more than happy to give it to her. There is nothing like massaging those big, beautiful ears of hers. I think it relaxes me just as much as it does her. I would like to go riding soon. It's been a while.

I think I need to do a series of posts identifying all the critters around this place. I will put that into production soon. I'm sure it will help if anybody reading this has a way to figure out who I'm talking about.

With everything going on I haven't been in a very cheery mood so it's probably best that I don't keep dragging on. I hope things settle down soon so I can talk about things that are more entertaining than dead chickens and a friend's betrayal. Until then...