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.

Sweet Tooth

Have you heard of Amish Friendship Bread? It's been going around here for years and the stuff is fucking delicious. I have no idea whatsoever why the Amish are in any way connected to the making of this bread but that's what it says on the mass printed recipe I have so by gods it's Amish. Deal with it.


The day you bake this bread -which by the way makes two loaves so you had better be hungry - you will have enough starter left over to give to two friends and keep one for yourself. If you have plenty of friends then finding two every ten days to give starter to will be no problem. I have very few friends and none of them live close to me so it presents a problem. The two starters I'm supposed to give to friends is unceremoniously dumped into the slop bucket and fed to my hog. The starter I keep is put into a jar and wrapped with a dishcloth. I don't know why I wrap it. I wrap my kefir so why not wrap the bread starter? Besides, it looks much better to have jars wrapped with decorative dishcloths than to have them sitting around filled with fermenting god knows what. Don't you think?

After the jar with the starter is set back out of the way, the rest of the ingredients are added to the bowl and mixed to utmost perfection. Of course it's perfect. We are talking about me after all. Then it's poured perfectly evenly into loaf pans and baked for exactly one hour. OMG! Talk about making the house smell like heaven! Nothing like cinnamon to make life worth living.


Once the bread is out of the oven and placed on a rack to cool, the only thing left to do is sit quietly for an hour - 30 minutes - 20 minutes- 10 minutes - oh fucking go ahead and eat it already! Big pats of melty butter all over it! Absolutely to die for! If you want the recipe and some starter let me know. It's sinfully delicious.

By the way, that's my Potbelly Tess in the picture. When I'm sick of eating this stuff she happily finishes it off for me.

Winter's a-Coming Dammit

I used to love winter. Wait a minute, back up. Maybe I didn't so much 'love' winter as simply tolerate it better than I do now. Well, even that isn't the truest of statements. Let's say I liked winter more than brussel sprouts but less than double chocolate chip ice cream. Whew, now that that's established we can move on. Happy about that aren't you?



Way back in the day I worked for NCDOT and loved it. If a person could have a relationship with a dump truck then I had one with mine. Her name was Sapphire. She was a five speed, automatic PTO, sunshine yellow hunka hunka burning love. Nothing made me happier than cruising along in my dump truck hauling dirt and debris away from a worksite or loads of gravel to roads being repaired. Color me in heaven. The only thing better was when it snowed. I would tremble in ecstasy. My boss would shake his head and call me politically incorrect names. I didn't care. Bring on the snow. From 8:00 pm to 8:am I drove my route spreading salt and sand and pushing snow with glee. I loved watching it arc gracefully off the plow, sending inadequately mounted mailboxes sailing into the air. That was an extra special treat. Sometimes I would stop in the middle of the road and have a cigarette.



There was an all-night store near the interstate where I would stop for a cup of coffee every time I passed by. I used to joke that I didn't know if it was the caffeine that kept me awake or having to pee all the time. One winter there was a nice young man who would give my coffee to me every time I stopped. I always thanked him because I truly appreciated it. I could put away a lot of coffee on those nights. Like me that young man worked a second job (I delivered pizza on the weekends) and I saw him at another stop-and-shop during the summer months. It took me a while to recognize him because, well, I'd never seen him while I was totally conscious. Once I realized who he was I told him how grateful I was for all the coffee he had given me during the course of that particular winter when I had often worked weeks at a time without a day/night off. He smiled and told me he had been afraid to do otherwise. Gee, thanks dude.



Last year we had snowfall that broke all kinds of records. I would look out at all that snow with a heavy heart. I miss my snowplow. I miss cruising along in the middle of the night, just me and my truck and the late night disc jockeys. Yep, those were the days. Snow isn't nearly as much fun as it used to be.

Great Accomplishments

With all the little children running around lately it seems I am in the midst of potty training more than I care to be. Lily pretty much trained herself while her younger sister Laney is a bit more challenged by the whole thing. Still, she's trying and that's all anyone can ask of a two year old.

I've just started keeping my nephew Dewey a few days a week so we're finding our common ground with the potty training thing. He's coming along quite nicely. If only I could figure out how to explain 'hold your penis and watch where you're aiming'. It ain't like I can teach by example.

To make things more interesting and to hopefully encourage Laney to go potty by herself (instead of having me take her for mandatory pee breaks every hour) I have invented the "Clean pants happy dance". You can sing-song 'clean pants happy dance' anyway you want to. Around here it varies from Buddy Holly tunes to Klingon opera. The dance should suitably match the tune. (Have you ever tried to dance to Klingon opera? Go ahead. I dare you.) The happy dance has become so popular than anytime someone in this house takes a pee it's a potty training production of "Annie". Yep, making peepee in the potty is a really big deal around here.

A couple of days ago the girls were here and we were messing about like we always do. You know, disco dancing in fairy outfits and shit like that. I try to sneak off to the bathroom to do my thing because like all young children, the girls are fascinated with the bodily fluids of everyone they know and most everyone else too. Sometimes I try to remember what it was like to go to the bathroom by myself. I sat down on the toilet and just as I started to pee Laney came in. Her little face lit up like sunshine. She ran to me and wrapped her little arms around my neck so tightly I thought she would choke me. In between the kisses she was smothering my face with she said brightly "You made tinkles in the potty!!!" I've never had anyone be so proud of me for anything but suddenly, the most important accomplishment of my life was taking a piss.

They say you get what you give. I hope I've made Laney feel half as good as she makes me feel because getting that much love is AWESOME!

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.