Every day I woke up daring to hope that the previous day, month, year had been a nightmare and that I was waking up to my real life.
This day was going to be my real life. I would see real curtains on the window. My bedroom would be clean, with sheets on my bed, washed recently by my sweet mother. There would be breakfast on the table when I went downstairs. Maybe freshly cooked eggs, toast, juice, milk.
My father would greet me with a hug or even an absent-minded pat on the head and my brother and sisters would be bickering over who got the funnies from the daily newspaper first.
I would finish my breakfast, gather my schoolbooks, and my mother, sweet-smelling and smiling, would hand me my lunch bag that she had filled with a sandwich, a piece of fruit, and something sweet she had baked the day before: a cookie or maybe some fruit-filled pastry she was well-known for. She would remind me that I had a book report due on Friday. I would reassure her that I was well into it and that of course it would be handed in on time. A hug.. and I would be off, holding my little sister’s hand as we went the two blocks to school.
SCCRRRRRRREETCCCHHHHH!!
(That’s the sound of an old vinyl record being shoved out of whack.)
What I awaken to instead is a cold wind blowing through the place where the unfinished wallboard meets the uninsulated attic space we called a bedroom. There were three such rooms: mine, my brother Jimmy’s, and my sister Dale’s.
I awake to my alarm clock beeping out and I reach over to shut if off before it can wake up Jimmy and Dale. I have things to do before they need to be up.
I go downstairs to see that my mother is ready to head out or has already gone to her job at the floral plant. She works there making preserved eucalyptus stems and preserved ferns for wholesale florists. It is nasty, hard work and she barely makes minimum wage. She does not pack my lunch or my sister and brother’s lunch. That’s up to 10-year-old me.
It’s also my job to iron my school dress as well as my sister’s and also to iron my father’s work shirt. It is pale blue and one of the new no-iron fabrics that isn’t truly no-iron. I heat the iron up and pull up a chair to the ironing board so I can reach better. While the iron heats up I start cooking my father’s breakfast. He is in the tiny bathroom right off the kitchen, having his morning poop and reading his book. He takes exactly 10 minutes. And you do not interrupt him! Ever!
I crack two eggs into the bacon drippings in the ancient cast iron skillet and push two pieces of white bread into the toaster. I cook them sunny side up with the ease of a short order cook in a greasy spoon. As I slide them onto the plate the toast pops up and I slather them with margarine, never butter.
I pour the coffee for Dad that my mother did manage to make before she left since she needs her two cups more than she needs family time. He takes his with exactly one teaspoon of sugar, no milk.
I place his plate of eggs and toast in front of him and he stirs his already prepared coffee distractedly while reading his current paperback book. He barely raises his eyes to acknowledge me, I iron his shirt which gives of a noxious smell unique to that perma-press material. I place it on a wire hanger and hang that on a hook on the kitchen wall.
I go to wake my siblings. Jimmy needs to be yelled at over several minute intervals if I am to get him motivated to come downstairs. Dale comes down and I pour her cold cereal. The milk is generic canned condensed milk mixed with equal an amount of water from the tap.
She finishes eating and I tell her to brush her teeth and get dressed. I yell up the stairs to Jimmy one more time. He finally comes down, plunks himself next to Dale and pours a big bowl of cornflakes, then proceeds to dump several spoonsful of sugar and some milk into it. He eats with gusto while poking Dale with his bare foot. She shrieks and whacks him on the arm. He says “What was that for?” as if he didn’t know.
We leave for school where at least I feel safe….. and even a little bit special. Something I crave like a junkie craves drugs.
another list of “things I’m grateful for”
- Antibiotics…my throat has hurt for three days and I am blessed to have a doctor who believes me when I tell him I need them!
- Hot apple cider with rum! Good in the morning, afternoon AND at night!
- Fleece pajamas- the ONLY way to get comfy on a rainy and cold afternoon.
- Cuddling with my honey in the morning under the covers. Wrapping yourself in each other’s arms and legs and nuzzling is the sweetest feeling in the world.
- Hulu.com– Ever since my Satellite dish was disconnected I am grateful to watch my favorite shows here!
- My trusty 2000 Subaru Forester… 100,000 miles and going strong! Not cool but damn, Suzi Subaru is the best car I ever owned!
- My Visa card (the bastard LOVES me, too!)
- Bacon- Thank you, pigs!
- A daughter who “gets” me.
- Used books stores.. Thank you to Rick’s and Houghton Book Store! You let me be able to afford to have books always in reserve. That comforts me SOOO much!
- Potatoes–mashed, fried, scalloped, latkes, boiled, gratineed, salad, baked, hash browned, and…drum roll, please…CHIPS!
- Warm, enthusiastic, smoochy, clingy, happy hugs from my grandson Cole EVERY time I come to see him!
- Gummy, sweet, and beaming smiles from my 6-month-old grandson Ryan. Oh, and the wonderful way he smells right there on that special spot at the top of his widdle head!
- On-line shopping. Better than dealing with the insanity of malls and big box stores.. ANY TIME.
- My hair colorist. Jodi, you perform a miracle every 5 weeks!
- Sharp cutlery.
- Mascara. Black. Always black. Maybelline. Cheap and wonderful!
- Orgasms! Well DUH!
- My blogger friends and my Facebook buddies. You know who you are and I love you all!
- My darling, handsome, and loving boyfriend, D’Bear. He’s my best friend and the best playmate a girl could ever ask for.
This is only a partial list of some of the many, many things I am blessed with.
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!!
a door opens
Well, I never got that awesome marketing job I wanted. Instead I decided to stop worrying about things so much and focus on getting a job where the work would be to my liking. Hmm, what would that be? It would have to be fun. It would need to be something I feel passionate about. I would have to like the people there AND the environment.
I frequent a lovely little wine shop on Park Avenue in Rochester called Wine Sense. Every morning the owner posts an email to her subscribers offering the “Wine of the Day” or WOD as we insiders like to call it.. *sniff sniff * With a few white wine exceptions and a few out-of-my-price-range exceptions I am almost always tempted to buy the required 3-for deal she offers.
Last week when D’Bear and I went in for our WOD I pulled the owner aside and asked if she needed any help over the holiday season. To my delight she answered “Yes!” So when I got home I emailed her my sad, pathetic resume and ten minutes later got a reply asking me to stop by on Monday for a brief chat. I arrived at the appointed time and within 10 minutes found myself with a job.
Now it doesn’t pay much, **cough-pitiful really-cough** but there is one incredible perk: I get wine AT COST!!
I love the wine. I love it so much that D’Bear jokes about it. (He should TALK!) I have a reputation as a good cook, having taught cooking classes and wowing friends with some pretty-darn-good food over the years. He jokes that my kids will one day say to me ” Mom, we’re thinking of having some close friends and family over for a get-together. Do you think you could cater it?” and after providing a bountiful table-ful of delicious eats they will sit me down and say “SURPRISE! This is an intervention!”
When I owned my kitchenware shop, Christmas holiday season was INSANE ! It was all my employees and I could do to keep up with customer demands! We wrapped anything and everything. We made gift baskets. We rang up sale after sale all the while laughing and singing Christmas carols along with the stereo system blaring forth holiday music all day long! The store was ALIVE! My daughters would come home from college, roll up their sleeves and pitch in because it was fun! (and I paid them.)
I look forward to some of that once again. The wine shop is a fun place to work with really nice people working there alongside. There are wine tastings every weekend and special food and wine events scheduled around the holidays.
Now if my paycheck EVER makes it past the door…well, it will be good.
He’s ba-acck!
Yes, you heard it here first!
Our dear friend Peter Parkour is back at Hate & Anger !
I suggest you all run right over and check things out. He has awarded this Hanging Tough award to all the loyal followers who stuck around , of which I am PROUD to be a member. There are many of us who , over the time he was blogging, fell in love with this wacky, wonderful man.
Thanks, Spidey! I love the award… and I am so glad you are back.
that’s stupid
According to the magazine Cooking Light women rate drinking enough water over having sex.
“When it comes to health, drinking the recommended daily amount of water is more important to women than having enough sex, according to a national survey conducted by our magazine. When asked to prioritize behaviors related to their overall health and well being, women ranked drinking enough water fifth and sex seventh on the list.”
According to the women in the survey their priorities rank in order:
- Getting enough sleep
- Keeping stress level low
- Finding time to relax
- Eating healthfully
- Drinking the recommended amount of water
- Finding time to exercise
- Having enough sex
Let’s look at that list again.
- Getting enough sleep –Sleep AFTER sex, people! It’s the BEST sleep in the world!
- Keeping stress level low — Sex is a stress reliever!!!! “They call me Mellow Yellow”…..
- Finding time to relax — How relaxed do you feel AFTER SEX???? D’UHHH!
- Eating healthfully — OK, I’ll give you that one. But have you ever had a Bacon, Egg, & Cheese Biscuit after sex? OMG!
- Drinking the recommended amount of water – Having sex makes you thirsty. You ‘ll drink as much as you need. There’s a faucet in the bathroom!
- Finding time to exercise – Sex IS exercise!
- Having enough sex — YES! The rest will fall into place after! Move to the top of the list!
suck sucky suck suck
Yeah, I’m pissed. And depressed.
I’m 55 years-old, smart, reasonably attractive, and fairly well-liked! I dress well, speak well, and I have SKILZ, baby!
If I were younger I would consider making an offer to sleep my way into a job. I’d also take pictures and blackmail their asses but still….money is money.
On Friday, three days ago my daughter called me from work to tell me that one of her patients mentioned that a job had just opened for a Marketing Director at a nearby assisted living facility. She suggested that I would be ideal for the job and since I had “insider” information I might be able to beat the crowds looking for work there. It was too late to get my resume out to them by that time so first thing this morning, Monday, I called them to ask for an appointment and was told the position had already been filled. WTF?
So I have decided that if I live frugally enough I may be able to make it through till I sell this place, collect Social Security (HA!), and maybe have something left over in my annuity to keep me from having to ask my kids to let me live with them.
So here are some ideas I have to save money:
I plan to unplug my clocks while I sleep.
I will only eat whatever is on sale, and I will only buy what I know I will consume. In the past I have been rather wasteful. I have been known to buy items and then they sat in the freezer or produce bins until they were no longer edible. This spring I tossed some freezer burned edemame, chicken livers, a roast of dubious origins, several bags of Tater Tots , and a 4 lb. chunk of frozen Velveeta over the bank in the back field. NO MORE! I also intend to start that diet. I think I can probably hibernate on these extra 20 40 lbs. I carry.
Two-ply toilet paper and paper towels? No more. Any remaining two-ply items will summarily be separated into single-ply and used thusly. By reducing my food intake (see above) I will dramatically cut down on my own “solid-wastes” anyway!
I will get used to wearing a winter coat while in my house. My down comforter will substitute at night. Thermostats will be kept at 55 degrees. I apologize to anyone visiting me but be forewarned to dress appropriately when coming by.
Coupons. I hate ’em. I will now use them.
Consignment clothing is chic, no? I may look retro-fashionable from now on (otherwise known as “the bag lady look”).
dress made from ramen noodles packages
Mineral make-up is expensive but I love it. BareMinerals is my cosmetic of choice but perhaps some good old Pennsylvania dirt would work as well. It is, after all, mostly minerals! And it will work so well with the retro fashions I intend to adopt! Perhaps if I sterilize it in the microwave first…..
Siphoning gas from my ex’s vehicles will save me on gasoline bills for my car. Hey! Who asked him to build a house right across from me anyway?
If anyone would like to contribute suggestions on ways that I can save more money please comment and I will take them under consideration. If anyone would like to donate to my retirement fund…. I will adopt you. I could use the tax write-off of a dependent.
dirty minds
This post is dedicated to Purplehatter in appreciation for my marvelous new HEADER! He gives great header, doesn’t he?
Hey…psssssst!!! Wanna get hot? I mean realllly hot!
I want you to put on some old, worn-out jeans. Slide a t-shirt over your head. Don’t fuss. You’re gonna take it all off later anyway. You’re gonna get D-I-R-T-Y.
Now go out to the shed in the yard. Yeah, baby, that’s what I’m talking about… the shed.
See that pile of logs over in the corner? Take a BIG one! You know you want that BIG one, don’t you?
Now make it stand up! Use your hands. That’s it! Hard and tall and proud!! You are doing great! Take your time. We have all day, baby. Feel the wood.
Now grab that axe and raise it over your head. I want you to DO IT! Go on. Give that naughty old piece of wood a good whack! It needs a strong hand. It wants to feel the hard edge of your thrust! Bring it!
OOOoooOOOHH!
Do it again! OOOH! Are you hot? YES!!!!
It’s OK to scream. Let it all out! I WANT to hear you scream! Come on!!!
YES! YES! YES! YES! OH! YES!!!!
Now look at your wood. Aren’t you feeling amazingly satisfied??? I see the smile on your face. It was good , wasn’t it??You know you liked it. A lot!
Take a break. We’re gonna do this all day long, baby. Yes. We are. You know it’s gonna hurt tomorrow.
Now put your hands around that wood. Carry a BIG pile into your house. Gently now… put it in .. the wood stove. LIGHT MY FIRE!!! Feel it?? Feel the heat??? Oh, baby, I am SO hot!
*grin* Damn. You are good!
(This is how I amuse myself on those winter mornings when the temperature dips into the teens and my house is cold. My children have reason to worry about the mind of their mother. )
If only
If only:
1.my hairdresser really WAS a magician!
2. all cookies were sold individually I could buy a “sampler”– 6 Oreos, 4 Pecan Sandies, 3 Nutter Butters, and a Mallomar!
3.my new shoes made me feel like I was “walking on clouds”. **coughbullshitcough* Damn bunions! Damn flat feet!
4. rice cakes tasted like pizza.
5. pizza tasted like rice cakes.
6. men came with an “on/off” button. I mean, come on… flip the switch- turn ’em on! And vice versa!
7. cell phones deactivated when inside of moving vehicles!
8. my ex could have danced half so well!
9. my underwear looked as sexy on me as it did in the store…on a hanger.
10. cigarettes weren’t bad for you..I’d have a two-pack-a-day habit! I still miss ’em after 7 years!
11. being stupid was painful. heeheehee
12. the “Blog Surfer” button on WordPress was a transporter, I’d have all my bloggy friends over for tea (or bloody marys)!
coming home
Lexus Man
I drove home today along the NY thruway east and then 81 south through Syracuse, Tully, Binghamton, and then Great Bend, PA and then on to my farm.
The drive started off in Rochester at the tail end of rush-hour traffic but soon became just normal highway driving. You know, semi-trucks, U-Hauls, the Lexus Man with the cell phone firmly attached to his ear going 5 miles an hour faster than everyone else. Then there’s the career woman in the SUV also with her cell phone but unlike Lexus Man, her cell phone use causes her to drive in the passing lane 5 miles slower than everyone else, oblivious to everyone trying to maneuver around her slow ass. I got behind her thinking she would see me trying to pass but NOOOO! I had to blink my lights at her several times to get her attention. When I finally got her to move over to the right and passed her she still had the cellphone to her ear but she did take it away long enough to give me the finger. Such a lady!
There were also the proverbial Q-Tips. You know, the retirees with white hair who barely can see over the steering wheel but insist on driving on the highway at 50 MPH !! “Oh, look at me! I’m really flying here!!! No, Dorothy, don’t make eye contact! They’re crazy out there!! They might even have guns! Haven’t you heard of road rage?” They have a right to be there! I mean that, but they tie up traffic so badly sometimes it’s almost dangerous! Maybe we should have Senior Citizen Highways where no one can drive over the speed of 50 MPH! And no passing lanes…at all! 
I love that drive though. It gives me time to segue between being part of the life with my honey, D’Bear, in the city and my life as a country girl with a big old farmhouse out in rural Pennsylvania. I love the scenery along the thruway in NY at Waterloo and Montezuma, especially near the big wetlands where huge flocks of migrating birds swoop over the highway in tremendous numbers, causing motorists to slow to watch the display.
Then when I get past Binghamton, NY and enter Pennsylvania, the scenery becomes completely rural with rolling hills and farmland and small, quaint towns with names like Thompson, East Ararat, Starrucca, and Pleasant Mount. These are towns whose entire village is the size of one city block in Rochester. There is usually one gas station/garage/junkyard, one Dollar Store, a hardware store of some kind, and a convenience mart where all the teenagers hang out. My favorite convenience store is in Great Bend and it is called, I kid you not, the HoMart!!! I admit I have not stopped there to see whether they do, indeed, sell Ho’s (how does one write that anyway?)
I returned home to find the lawn needs to be mowed, the leaves are falling rapidly and will soon require attention and a house whose interior was 55 degrees!! The mail was near to filling the mailbox and as a special present I found four dead mice in the mousetraps I had set before leaving. No matter what I do they insist on coming in every fall and raiding my pantry of anything not sealed in glass jars or metal canisters. I am very Martha Stewart-ish now with all my old jars lining the shelves filled with pastas, three kinds of rice, dried beans and peas, herbs, spices, dried peppers of all kinds, and cans upon cans of tomatoes, sauces, condiments, soups, and sundry yummies.
After emptying the mousetraps ( yuck!) I hauled in a few armfuls of wood and lit the woodstove and then went out to cut the last of the hydrangeas, black-eyed susans, sweetpeas, and yarrow to put in vases around the house.
Finally I settled in with a take-home dish filled with D’Bear’s special pot roast, which he had simmered in the oven all afternoon on Sunday, pureed butternut squash with nutmeg, and mashed potatoes. Belly full, toes warm, candles lit, and flowers on every surface…yes, the house welcomed me home.
My Home Sweet Home
I am alone but only temporarily. The solitude gives me time to be with myself, to be who I am without the reflection of another. What better time than autumn to do that? Autumn feels like the right time to take stock of our lives, our thoughts, our habits, and our property. It gives us a pause before the hardness of winter to take a good look at where we are and where we need to be.
I look forward to this next week. Before you know it I will be back in the car headed north to my honey… with the winter wardrobe in the trunk. By wardrobe I mean my funky old sweatshirt, my Northface fleece, and my wool socks. Oh, and the sexy fleece pajamas with the dancing cats on the bottoms!! OOO-ee!! Prepare yourself to be swept away, D’Bear!
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