Anything Goes

That would be me… and my spiritual DJs.

Tuesday, I was scheduled to work 9-7. I left work at 11:45.  The big festival the Capitol City has expanded this year from 3 to 10 days, so our part of town decided to get in on the action. Our part of the festival was from 6 -9 and the unofficial mascot of the festival is a catfish. Executive Chef made catfish gumbo… 30 gallons of it. He sold 27 GALLONS of gumbo. That is a lot of okra, folks.

We were wall-to-wall people, inside the restaurant, for 5 hours. They had hoped that 500-600 people would come up… 1200-1500 actually made it. Insanity. Pure insanity.

Yesterday I was scheduled a double (9a - 10p), but I got to leave at 7:45. We had a memorial service in-house catering type deal, where they take over one side of the restaurant.  The widow called about 30 minutes beforehand and said, “Oh, the count went from 35-40 to 50.” YIKES. So much for one side of the restaurant. We set our private dining area as well and everything went off without a hitch, except it was just loud and full. The other side of the restaurant was packed as well. It took us three hours afterwards just to clean and polish the silverware and glasses.

Good money, but exhausting.

I was putting out butters one morning this week, maybe Thursay? Maybe it was yesterday (the days all run together), and I was thinking of this whole Jerry counseling thing and yeah, an Alice song came on the radio (Don’t Follow), then was also thinking about it the other night as I was coming home from the local gas station. Actually, I wasn’t really thinking of it, a lot of things were just floating through my thoughts and that one popped up and then “Down in a Hole” popped up on the radio.

Down in a hole/and I don’t know if I can be saved/See my heart/I decorate it like a grave…

I sat in my car in front of my house and listened to it, even though I have at least two versions on iTunes and the MTV Unplugged video.

I am down in a hole, but I’m pretty sure I can be saved. 

Case in point:  Last night I talked to Jeff. He and I were discussing Nate’s insurance and some medical expenses his insurance hasn’t paid, namely the $1400 of prescriptions they haven’t paid out on. I could tell he had either taken his meds, was drinking, or both. Since it was 9:45 and he was semi-coherent I figured it was his meds. Before long he was talking in circles and asking me if I hated him. I have every reason to, asshole, but I don’t. I just cut him off and got off the phone. I’m just not dealing with him like that anymore nor discussing that type of subject matter. its useless and a waste of time and energy I don’t have anymore.

THEN, AZ called and then he stopped by. He said, “Come outside and give me a hug.”  Before, I would have gotten that “feeling” in the pit of my stomach, something. Before, when I used to hug him I actually felt something, love, hate, love, something. The conditioned response was to run outside and hug him, so I did, but I didn’t feel anything. No love, no hate, no love.

I talked to T-Bird directly afterwards and she asked, “What did he want after so long?”  I had no answer. She said, “He always wants something, what did he want?”  I have no answer. Maybe he just wanted to see me (he’s gained that marriage weight, by the way). I told her I can no longer read anything into what he says or does. He stopped to see me, to say hi, and that is all. I can’t remember the last time I saw him in person.

I told her how I felt and she said, “You’re turned off. You shut yourself down and now you’re trying to turn yourself on again and in order to do that, you have to deal with Kevin, AZ, the fire, and Jeff, in that order. Jeff will always be around, so deal with him last.”

I said, nope. Jeff is first, because he sucks the energy out of me to deal with the other stuff. I’ve already taken strides, big strides to do that, and I continue to watch for those cues that he’s trying to suck me back in.

I’m really tired of feeling numb. Time to start peeling the onion again.

I’ll be leaving for Milwaukee in the morning on a severly shortened trip, but thankful to go nonetheless.

Nate and I are dealing with the loss of our girl, Hermione.  Nate walked into the computer room the night of her death and said, “Wow, its really strange not seeing Hermione on the back of your chair.” Its really strange not to have her follow me to bed at night and sleep on the headboard as well, and, as my last indoor/outdoor cat, I am aware of an ache when I turn the corner onto my street and know she’ll never come running to meet my car again. Yes, its hard, but we know she is with her other family, and that makes it easier.

I don’t really have much else to say other than, I’m very tired. Its been a trying week. But hey, I think Jeff was sober two days this week, maybe three. Whooo hooo!!! Okay, I think I’m going to run Nate into the shower and then I’m going to bed!

I’ve been Spring cleaning. Oh my hell, where did all of this shit come from????? I have several reasons for this bout of housewifely cleaning, mainly because I was shit tired of it. I started cleaning two weeks ago, a little at a time. Rearranging, doing all kinds of things, including admitting that the Holiday Tree had seen its last holiday. Too much work, too little time between some holidays, needing to get the living room in some coherent order again.

I’ve worked really hard at keeping things clean since the fire, but, it hasn’t worked totally well, better, but not as good as I would like. Having a dishwasher and The Death Star (automatic kitty box) have helped immensely. Keeping a calendar of things that need to be done and on what day is also helpful. Such as, what days to make sure the trash is out (Sundays and Thursdays), what days to clean the litter tray (Thursdays and Mondays), what days to run the dishwasher, not matter how full or empty (Sundays and Thursdays).

Plus, I have asked my mother, The Queen of Clean, to come to my house and stay with Nate for a few days while I’m in Milwaukee.

I also dipped into my stash of Adderall to assist in keeping my mind where it belongs. I’ve had a prescription for it but I wasn’t able to afford it, so, I just take it when I really, really need it. I’ve had to work all weekend, even on Sunday, because someone could afford to have us open the restaurant on our day off for a graduation party. No, not college, I mean high school. I swear they try to out-do each other on The Hill. The minimum this party is going to cost them: $3,000.  Yes, I said MINIMUM.

Anyway, Nate has been entertained by the Nabes son, who I picked up Friday. Tomorrow we will be going to see Indiana Jones… and cleaning. Hope you are having a great weekend.

If you’re making a difference in your child’s life? If anything you’re saying or doing is sinking in? If the example you’re setting is being watched?

I found out.

Nate had cajoled my Mom into buying me a Mother’s Day present from him, ”Chicken Soup for the Soul - A Tribute to Moms.” Nate thumbed through the book and made me read a particular story called, “How?” written by Tammy Ruggles. This mother related her and her son’s struggles following the death of her husband. She asked herself the kinds of questions I’ve asked myself through the years, although for difference reasons. “Who will be Nate’s role model? How do I teach him to be a man?” And my other questions, “Is anything I’m doing going to make a difference?”

Nate, contrary to popular belief, can be a quiet child, especially when expressing his heartfelt emotions. I have no doubt my little man loves me but I’ve long wondered what is going on inside his head. I was also a bit perplexed as to why he wanted me to read this particular story since it didn’t fit our circumstances. I understood once I got to the end of the story.

The child in the story comes to his mother and asks if she remembers all the things they’ve done together (fishing, bowling, swimming, skating) and she indicates that she does. He hands her a piece of paper to read…

The title of the paper was, “My Hero,” and the words read: My hero is my mom. I want to be just like her I grow up. She teaches me right from wrong, and she wants me to be a good man.

Nate told me later that he didn’t much like the beginning of the story but he really liked the end. I liked the ending too.

Thank you, Nate, for finding a way to tell me I’m making a difference in your life. Happy Mother’s Day to me.

I bought a wish box in Arizona. I gathered a few trinkets while I was there and found myself taken by the turtle. Small wonder, given that it is a water animal and represents feminine power, earth, nature, fertility, and perhap the ability to defy death. Regardless, being the spiritual person I am, I have thought long and hard about what wish to put in the wish box.

You know the old adage, “Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it (all, and then some you don’t want”), at least according to old adages and Daughtry.  Yes, I was quite selfish as I formulated the most precise, concise, and detailed wish imaginable, complete with back doors, chutes, ladders, moving staircases, and revolving bookshelves. It may have involved things about love and being loved and being able to love and letting go of fears and stuff like that.

But, the other day, after talking to Nate’s teacher about his continued lack of enthusiasm for school and his being suspended for “fighting” (and I say that with quotations because a true fight, IMHO, involves blood and bruises, neither of which occurred), I sat on my bed and said, “I just wish I could inspire my son to love school and achieve his highest potential.”

Funny ole world, ain’t it?

You see, I used my design method on that precise, concise, and detailed wish. You start with an idea, and then you build on that. Like writing a song. Start with a guitar riff, write some lyrics, add a bass line, crank out some drums; or a novel, layering your characters, weaving your story through the chapters; or my beading, adding a cabochon to a Swarovski to a particular weave to a particular woven chain.

Yet, even symphonies have solos and from chaos you can gain a lot of clarity.

I can’t say that my shoulders didn’t slump and had someone been there with me, they surely would have seen a lightbulb pop up over my head. The spirits have spoken and my wish will have to wait.

In other happenings in Peachville… we have a new assistant manager. Yeah. We’re off to a rocky start but I have hope. We have a new bartender who replaced Whiny and she’s a gem. I like her. Not that I don’t like the new AM, its just a little rocky right now.

I submitted my grant proposal for monetary assistance to offset the cost of my trip to Milwaukee. I guess you’ll find out when I find out.

That’s about it from Peachville. Good night and good luck.

Cuz I got the green light to buy my appliances and furniture! Say WHOO HOOOO!!!! 

So, a new refridgerator, stove, dishwasher, microwave, couch, loveseat, two chairs, queen mattress and box springs, twin bedframe with mattress and boxsprings, a curio cabinet, new desk, and an office chair… yeah, I’m about flat broke, even my fire fund is just about broke. Appliances are coming on Tuesday, half of the other is coming on Friday, the rest two weeks after that, my parents will bring my stuff down on Friday, I’ll have my clothes and other things delivered sometime in the next two weeks.

There are still a few problems at the house though. One, they didn’t ask for a new hot water tank which I then had to tell my insurance adjustor about when he sent me an e-mail telling me he was sending another check, sort of like a final check. I sent him a long e-mail, detailing my complaints with the contractor’s management.

Then they got said water tank but the dumbass picked up a propane hot water tank. *Sigh* So, then they got a gas hot water tank and Ron called to tell me it had a big dent in it when they took it out of the box, so, now I have not just one, but two defective hot water tanks in my living room. Maybe the other one is already gone… I don’t remember.

My floors look incredible ya’ll. In-fucking-credible. I now have a monster heating and cooling system. It’s pretty. I heart my new heating and cooling. My heating and cooling guy was hot too… or did I mention that? Okay, he was hot. Now I’ve said it again.

T-Bird went with me to review my selection of ceiling fans. She knows what my floor, cabinets, and countertops look like in the kitchen. I switched my countertops from a sand color to something with sand, cream, chocolate, and black in them. They rock. So, I got a black ceiling fan. I know, odd, but I think it will really pull everything together.  Sand looking floor with cream, ivory walls, white ceiling, oak cabinets, aforementioned countertops, white appliances, and a black fan. Trust me, it will look good.

That was about the only ceiling fan we agreed on.  I found pics of all the ceiling fans but Nate’s. His is a space hugger and it has… a remote control.  Holy Hera.

So, we’ll start with the living room…

My sofa and loveseat. The tables are similar to this coffe table but they have glass tops.  Instead of getting the ginormous chair to match, I picked something a little different to match.

This is not the exact style or color but close enough. No ottoman either.

And, the ceiling fan. I’m not sure why this picture is so much bigger than the others.

And my new appliances…

18 cu. ft. of good eatin’

Somethin’ to cook it on…

Somethin’ to wash the dishes in…

and my black ceiling fan…

and the light kit for it

I can’t get the picture of the microwave to resize… oh well.

Now, one of the MOST irritating things for me here has been having to share two washers and dryers, which I have to throw change into. Ya’ll have to remember, I have never lived in an apartment. I’ve always had my own washer and dryer. Having to share and pay and not being able to do clothes at 2 in the morning while I blog has been a royal bitch, on top of everything else.

NO MORE!  To make up for it, I got a 3.5 cu. ft., 17 cycle, four wash temps, four rinse temps, four wash speeds, 2 rinse cycle washer. Yeah, take that! The dryer is… just a dryer. It dries clothes and I couldn’t find a picture of it.  This is very extravagant for me. Still within budget but also extravagant for an ole country girl. I showed it to T-Bird and we agreed the only thing better would have been a front load.

I said, “Wow, 17 cycles, I wonder how many of those I’ll actually use.” 

We stared at the washer for a few seconds and answered at the same time.

“One.”

and here’s kind of the chair I’m putting in the computer room. Couldn’t find a real pic of it. Nate picked it out. It’s a chocolate recliner. It is very comfy. Nate plans on laying back in it to play his DS while I work on the computer.

And the ceiling fan for the computer room

And the ceiling fan for my bedroom

Its called “New Orleans.” In honor of my cousin, Kama, who drew me a most excellent Black Stone Cherry picture and had it framed, and our buddy Se7en, and because New Orleans was where the first BSC video was shot.

And, I should have more pictures tomorrow of how things are going in the house, floors, walls, cabinets, and other sundries, including the fact,  I now have a toilet. (Just for you, Jammie J.!, well, and me and Nate).  Oh, and we have a kitten on hold. A little boy who is, naturally, black and white. I’ve named him Jack and if you know OUR Jack, then you’ll know why. (snicker)  More on that later.

And a time for every purpose under the sun…

 I finally got some of the pictures taken of the house a few days after the fire.

The source of the fire, my floor furnace. To the left of the grate you can see the hole burned in the floor.

It spread into the computer room, the ceiling, and attic, burning every box, bag, and table, including those in the attic. All of the debris here is a combination of me tossing everything looking for stuff, the contents of that section of the attic, the ceiling, and insulation, plus parts of the wall.  You can see my computer desk and what was left of my monitor in the right back corner of the picture. 

The fire burned through the door of Nate’s room and scorched all of the furniture.

It spread into the bathroom, which was opposite the computer room. It melted the shower curtain to the tub and the heat peeled the shower stall from the wall.

The heat rose in my room, scorching all of the furniture, burning pictures right off the walls and melting my CD holder, which was empty.

 The fire spread into the living room and along the love seat, up the walls, burning my dad’s moose antlers, and a set of paintings my German sister had done.

Across the ceiling

Along the east wall, across the entertainment center, to the curio cabinet and front air conditioner.

A picture of Nate, my brother, and myself was hanging on the wall next to the curio cabinet… It survived with some heat damage.

The heat and fire came into the kitchen from both the computer room and the living room. Melting the blinds, the litterboxes, scorching the cabinets. and causing part of the ceiling to fall.

Yet, a picture of my host father in Greece, which was taped to the inside of the cabinet to the far left beside of the refridgerator, was unharmed.

I found Ozzy a foot from the front door, in front of the air conditioner. Cali was in front of the curio. Marco was lying on the end table beside of the couch, which was against the west wall, to the left of the moose antlers and not visibile in the pictures. Lola was lying on top of the couch.

Napoleon was in the computer room.  He was badly burned and a piece of metal had melted across his body. I dug him out with a shovel, a screwdriver, and my bare hands because I could not stand the thought of leaving him there.  I told the house that he was mine and it may have taken him but it was not going to keep him.

Ireland was in the doorway of my bedroom and Midnight was in the doorway of the bathroom, her favorite place to hide was behind the commode.

 I found Smokey on my bed, right where he was when I left. The blinds had melted and fallen over most of his body. I lost it.

I knelt on my soaked mattress and sobbed into my filty, sooty hands, in my filthy, sooty clothes, in the miserable cold. I remembered the kitten that they said wouldn’t live. Malnourished and so tiny when I brought him home, only to prove them all wrong and live and grow into the 18 lb. patriarch of my feline family.

He sent many a dog packing for daring to sniff a blade of grass of his property, after all, I just paid the bills so he could rule the roost. And even at the age of 11, he still loved to play with his fluffy tail.  He didn’t mind eating your hair, or breathing in your face, or biting your toes or meowing loudly if it meant you waking up and feeding him.

He hated dogs but he was the most tolerant of all the cats with kittens and new cats, as soon as they figured out that he was the boss. When the door opened and Schmo walked in, he was met by his family, even cranky Midnight. Napoleon followed him everywhere he went. The kittens would curl up against his big fluffy belly and he would groom them, just as though they were his own.

And, he survived Nate. Not bad given the fact Nate actually tried to nurse on him when he was a baby. If a cat can give you a “look,” well, he definitely gave me one that day. And when those who have been to my home heard of the fire, they didn’t ask of the cats, they asked of Schmo.

He and I weathered many storms together and I always said he was the most faithful man I ever had. I miss him.

I came home from T-Bird’s last night to find my house on fire. I’m not sure what caused it but it started around the floor furnace. Either the cats knocked something onto it or it just finally blew something. My computer room, the entire hallway, the attic, all burned. The rest of the house has severe smoke and water damage.

But those are just things. Some things that were precious in that house, sentimental value, but nothing more so than my precious cats, all of whom perished, other than Hermione, who stays outside exclusively.

I knew something was wrong when I got home and the entire house was black and when I opened the screen door, black smoke rolled out. Somehow I found the right key and opened the door. I dropped to my knees and began hollering for my precious babies. The smoke was so thick and black, I couldn’t even tell where the fire was, and I couldn’t breath, even at the front door. The wind blew at one point and I started to crawl inside, yelling, and that’s when I saw Smokey. He couldn’t have been more than a foot inside the front door but he was dead.

I knew then that all of them were dead and should have known when the acrid smoke rolled over top of me. I was starting to get burned. The heat was so intense it burned the Christmas lights still on my porch and they dropped down on me. My right hand and my chin are burned and I dug a few Christmas lights out of my hair. My left hand, oddly enough, is frostbitten, as it was the coldest day of the year so far, 17 degrees. Time meant nothing to me and I wandered for two hours without gloves, feet wet, in snow, just in shock.

Luckily, Nate is fine. He was with me and he ran to the neighbor’s and pounded on the door, then, God love his heart, he ran down the street toward the fire department, which is just over the railroad tracks. He seems to be taking this much better than I am. Luckily again, I had washed his clothes and taken them to T-Bird’s to dry. However, I don’t have much.

So, now I deal with recovering what I can and just dealing with burying my precious babies. It is a small consolation knowing that they were probably overcome by fumes early on and did not suffer. It is a small consolation. My computer room is just, well, gone, so I don’t know when I will be back.

Just keep us in your thoughts and prayers. I love you all.           

Still recovering from this weekend.  Check out http://peachworks.blogspot.com where I have posted new and old stuff.  Please, do not mention this blog. Thanks. I’ll be around ASAP to visit with you all.

ARGH!!!  I have to get used to this place!!!