Heather knits, the junk food queen (aka Houston Heather)

"Where to Look"

2012-02-02T21:50:00.000-06:00

When I was a teen, one of my favorite songs was "What have I done to deserve this?" I always knew something was wrong, I just didn't have a name.

Today was a good day, actually. The song just came up on my playlist as I typed. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and tell myself it would all work out.

We got up early and went to the warehouse club. I had fun playing my favorite game "Guess the business!" as we waited on our ride. If I see someone with a lot of little juice boxes, wet wipes, diapers, and bleach, probably a safe bet it's a daycare. Today we had a guy with lots of bottled water, granola bars, coffee, and complements. I correctly guessed "Office".

Most people are happy to tell me, and I have fun. I still don't see myself as an extrovert, but I know I am. I love interacting with the public, and complete strangers. That's a good thing, as I approach another Bible handout!

Oh, by the way, I found the perfect verse:

Matthew 22:9

New International Version (NIV)

⁹ So go to the street corners and invite to the banquet anyone you find.’

I just thought that was fantastic. I discovered it during my God Time.

So, I went to the warehouse, went to work, stocked, and came home. I took a little time in my garden.

Everything is lush, green, and huge. I planted some buckwheat in garden bed 2. I accidentally weeded a sugar snap pea, so I planted a few seeds. I threw some buckwheat in my new garden bed, too. I'll have to cover it if we get a cold snap, but they provide a lot of green material for compost. They also smother weeds.

My pole bean, and the onion, are still growing in the compost pile. I find that funny, and intriguing. I've read of planting squash in the compost. I have some interesting varieties I'd like to try, I've got plenty of sun, and plenty of room on that side of the yard. Interesting possibilities.

I started pretty small with the garden, and gradually add a new 15 square feet or so every year. I want to keep it manageable and fun.

My collards and kale are massive. I could feed 3 blocks' worth of families from one plant. Most of the onions are doing well (I had the transplants in a very dry, warm, house for 2 months after purchase, I'm amazed any of them lived). The potatoes are huge, you can't even see the soil in that garden bed. I savagely pruned my frilly purple kale (I figured out it is a "Redbor"), and it's still growing along I'm glad; the potatoes are big enough to compete with the kale. I don't need to prune it any more unless it's for dinner.

I planted the Sugar Snap peas over a period of about 8 weeks, another few feet of row every couple weeks. The first batch are about ready to bloom. Yum. I estimate delicious sugar snaps in about 2 weeks. The chard is huge, about the size of a 5 gallon bucket. Even the favas look good.

I need to fertilize; and eventually I need to buy more fertilizer. I think I'll just get a 25 pound bag and keep it in a lidded, 5 gallon bucket.

I need to plant the clover. It did very well sprouting and the roots are growing out of their little peat pots. I plan to plant it in the pathways, it will provide a green cover, bee attractant (I need bees for pollination), and some nourishment for curious roots from the garden beds.

Once I get that done, I need to harvest some of my greens, the arugula and mustard in particular. I need to plant more greens, too. When I'm eating lowcarb I like a lot of veggies and greens. It's better if I grow it, I can pick it and eat it for dinner. I don't have to worry about something decaying in the fridge.

Speaking of, I cleaned out the fridge tonight. Back to my day: after working in the garden, Ron took me to our favorite taqueria. They had a special on fajitas. I ate my share and realized I could easily low carb it.

We got home, I took a nap, a little more work in the garden, God Time, etc.

Tomorrow I cut out the sugar, aspartame, and caffeine. It should be a rough couple days to week.

I also need to prepare for my Bible Handout. That means I need to organize the front room and start stuffing Bibles. I gotta have tracts for that, so I contacted my "guy".

I am hoping he can print up the "Where to Look in the New Testament"s for me, and just mail them. Then I only need to put them in the Bibles and load them into the handcart.

It takes about 4 hours on a day off to run off "Where to look" at the copy shop.

All in

2012-02-01T18:00:00.000-06:00

I lay in bed last night, it was 2 AM. I could feel the bugs all over my body, biting, crawling, and jumping. I had suffered with them for a couple nights running. I tore up the bed looking for them, disturbing the cat, and seriously considered fumigating. I had to get rid of those bugs.

My problem was that they didn't exist. I was hallucinating. I still am. I can feel something crawling in my hair, but I know it doesn't exist.

You've heard a lot about Ron. So, when I heard him making alert noises, I got out of bed, and told him I was having problems with invisible bugs. He talked me out of using the pesticide, talked to me as I took my protocol medication (If I hallucinate, I take another dose of something, per Doc), and encouraged me as I waited for it to kick in.

For all appearances, he was delighted to see me, sorry I was "ill" and couldn't have been nicer or more matter-of-fact. I imagine most "normals" would run screaming.

Happily, today I had an appointment to see Doc. First, though, we went to the grocery store. I got a few things and came back home, then we got our next ride. Doc is a ways off; we rode for nearly 2 hours.

When we got in to see him, he had a resident with him. I am always happy to discuss my illness, symptoms, and management with anyone. Especially the prescribing doctors of tomorrow.

I shared my test results and Doc agreed the lithium level was terrible. He agreed my new dose sounded about right, and told me to get another test in 6 weeks. He said the bugs are usually related to stimulants and/or anxiety.

So, I intend to cut out my only stimulant, the diet soda. Doc was very nice as he told me I need to lose the weight; he's worried about my health. Ron was clearly also concerned about my health.

I'd be a real idiot to ignore that. I like to think I'm not an idiot.

So, I'll be low-carbing again, AND getting rid of diet soda. It means a rough couple weeks for me, a lot of migraines, but I will come out of it a lot healthier at the end.

And if kicking the bugs means kicking the soda, I'm all in.

Have me this way

2012-01-31T20:08:00.000-06:00

Pretty tired today, but not depressed. I think I WOULD be manic, but for medication.

I just don't get those buttheads who say no one should ever take psychiatric medication. I am certain, sleep aids and anti anxiety drugs are vastly abused and over-used. People who don't need them, take them, and people who could benefit, over use them.

But take someone like me. How many blogs have I typed? "Medication gave me a life I didn't know I could have"? "I don't care about the side effects, because my husband likes to spend time with me"? "I don't want to die anymore, isn't it great?" Or my personal favorite: "I never knew how about the noise in my head, until medication turned it off".

But does Ron feel the same? Today, at the bank, I had to make a deposit. I couldn't fill out the deposit slip. The teller had gotten an attitude when I did my usual "Shove the bank statement with account number along with the deposit, through the window" routine. Said I HAD to fill out a slip. After watching me attempt same, she "let" me do it the regular way.

Had she been really ugly, and I wanted to make a point, I could have asked for a manager and requested it as a reasonable accommodation for a disability. "Livin' in America"

Anyway, I notice a - lack. My thinking isn't clear, I have a hard time articulating and finding words, and I'm needing that nap every day. So, I asked Ron, and he said he'd much rather have me this way.

The most telling fact, to me, is the fact that he's choosing to spend more time with me. Instead of hiding in his room, he comes out, sits in his wheelchair, and talks. We watched a show about spicy foods tonight, and I fixed him a quesadilla with red pepper flakes.

Happily, before he came to visit, I had enough energy and motivation (mania!) to attempt some housecleaning. I have a hard time with it due to the brain damage. I have a hard time figuring out what needs to happen, and how to make it happen. I ask God for help.

At any rate, I got most of the tile swept, and mopped the kitchen. I really love tile floors. They are very easy to clean.

Today we ran a couple of errands, Ron "Came with" on paratransit. It rained most of the day, at times quite hard, so I was glad of it. We went to Home Depot, looked around. I got a nice pocketknife for $5. We went home and then went to the bank/grocery.

Boy, I hate that grocery. The only reason I spent any money: BBQ Vienna sausage, and Dr Pepper were on sale, and some of the Dr Pepper had dust - which means a horribly flat beverage. They're so bad even I can't drink them. I was happy to get out. We got Ron something at Radio Shack; and also got him a fried chicken special.

Speaking of, I had an interesting encounter today. A driver we know came to get us. She hadn't seen me in over a year.

The first words out of her mouth as I got in: "You got fat!"

I just looked at her. I know the script was SUPPOSED to have me getting defensive, denying it, and making excuses.

I just looked at her and said "Yup" . She gaped at me.

"You got fat! Did you notice?"

"Yup"

I was supposed to be upset, making excuses. Maybe even crying a little. Probably supposed to be angry, too. I'm sure most would have; but that would have been playing the game.

That's the nice thing about having medication on board. I don't have to run around, reacting to everything.

I don't play games. She just started at me for a minute as I took out a Diet Dr Pepper and drank.

"Why did you get fat again?" Oh, the things I could have said.

"I ate the wrong things".

And I took another drink. I wasn't any fun at all. She dropped it.

Like I told Ron, "Some, ignorant, people like to play the 'I'm better than you' game. They want to make critical, 'helpful' comments. They want to judge and condemn. They WANT me to get upset when they make rude comments about my weight. If I just agree with them it stops the game."

I also told Ron I delayed getting off sugar due to obligations; he needed my help with a lot of various things the last few weeks. I should be able to cut out the sugar now, have a horrible detox (I always have a horrible time), and get back to lower-carb eating.

I am not happy with my current look.

It's nice to be appreciated

2012-01-30T16:54:00.000-06:00

Last night, Ron and I stayed up late watching a romantic comedy. "Flipped" It was very cute, and ran very late for us.

See, we had to get up at 3. Not an auspicious start, when Ron wakes me up at 3. My alarm, didn't.

I had enough time to eat, shower, pill, and dress. Off to work. We had a new driver. I hope she does better.

I felt safe, just a little frustrated; and I hope it didn't show too much.

We had a lot to do: it's the end of the month. Meter readings, pull bills, pull change. Receive 3 deliveries. Report all totals to Ron, help him stock. Tally the money and report total to Ron. Get paid. Exchange rolls of quarters for "real" money at credit union, fix naughty vending machine. Talk to other vendor. Pay not one, but three property tax things.

School

Utility district

County

It was highly depressing to conclude we could never sell the house, the deferred property taxes are probably 5 thousand by now. I had to remind myself to turn it over to Jesus. I managed to clear myself up before Ron noticed.

Yay for medication; and my faith. Ron was really appreciative all day. "Oh, you're such a big help". "I couldn't do any of this without your help" "Take a foot break!"

I love that; it's the gas that keeps me going. I don't mind running around all day, if I know it's appreciated.

I do find it funny. When I worked retail I used to be a real brat about getting my breaks and lunches. Now, I'm lucky to sit down for 5 minutes. [snort] Self employed means I don't get a lunch.

After work, we went to the bank and deposited what we had (not much). We went to the mall and got some lunch. I had a chicken thing, with bacon on it. It was OK except for the sauce. We had a pretty good ride home.

By this point, we've been up for over 10 hours on inadequate sleep. Nap time.

Ron's still out.

I try to drink more water...

2012-01-28T19:01:00.000-06:00

Every now and then, I'm struck with a moment that makes me realize, this could only come from my life.

Last night Ron came out of his bedroom. He had been watching TV, a program about water treatment plants.

I, trying to be a Good Patient, was drinking sugar free lemonade instead of my usual soda.

Ron began his discourse by telling me about the various steps used by the water treatment plants. As he finished, he said:

"Heather, it's so odd to think, we are drinking other people's urine, every time we have a glass of water." I gagged. "Isn't that weird? Urine." I gagged again.

Ron is blind, he didn't know what I was drinking.

"So, Heather, which would be worse in your eyes? Drinking urine from a man or urine from a woman?" I gagged again.

"Ron! I'm drinking lemonade!"

He was very apologetic. I should have told him. When, I asked. I didn't know he was going to go to urine, from water treatment.

He thought about it for a moment. "You're right. I'm sorry."

I then informed him this was going in the blog.

OK.

Nothing to see

2012-01-28T18:56:00.000-06:00

I love disaster fiction and movies. If I have a few idle hours, I'd love to spend it with a massive volcano, earthquake, bioterror, EMP, zombies, etc.

One common theme in the disaster fiction, humanity pulls together and saves itself. It makes wonderful art.

Don't get me wrong, we are capable of tremendous self-sacrifice and acts of amazing courage. But collaterally, we suck.

So, as I watch the noble ending scene, some poor bastard has just sacrificed himself to save the entire planet (sometimes the Sci-fi movies let him or her live); the noble theme builds, and humanity rises to its' collective feet in joy and celebration. We saved ourselves.

And I sob like a baby because I know better. We CANNOT save ourselves.

You may think, "Heather, you're a born-again Christian. You're evangelical. You pray for the guy who mugged you. Don't you think more of humanity?"

No, I don't. I love people, those who are saved and the unreached. I want to reach the latter group and impart my faith to them. Ron and I have put ourselves at risk, more than once, to help others. God knows what we did.

Humanity as a whole? [scoff] Move along, nothing to see. Ron's been ranting all night about a chemical spill cover-up. Kids are neurologically damaged and most likely will never recover. He's furious and distraught. I heard him talking to God and it was pretty heated.

Ron recently read a book about EMP. Fiction. "The Moment After" I think.

"Heather" he told me "All a terrorist would have to do is trigger an EMP. We would destroy ourselves." He's right. I agree completely. I have seen enough incidents of mob mentality to confirm his diagnosis.

Take a blizzard, for instance. I grew up on the East Coast. We had some horrible blizzards growing up; and one thing they always featured - the grocery store runs. People literally stampeding into the grocery store to stock up. The same thing happens in hurricane country when a big one is coming.

People don't prepare in advance, then they wonder why the government won't save them. Sorry, they're busy stopping the looters - the people who didn't "need" a disaster kit and went looting after they ran out of food.

Even now, the government is telling people to have at least 2 week's worth of food, just in case. www.ready.gov has a whole checklist. I would love to do an audit of my subdivision and find out just how many people have that.

I don't even watch the news, I get so nauseated. Humanity as a whole, sucks. Rodents take better care of their young. We have nothing to redeem ourselves. I don't know why God loves us.

I wouldn't love us if I were God.

Here's my other favorite; talk about Jesus and salvation and watch how angry they get. I tell people, if you see anything good in me, that's God. Anything ugly - that's me.

God takes us out of ourselves and makes us a lot better than we ever could be, otherwise. I can't wait to get raptured. The way things are, I have to assume it could be any minute.

When I do my God Time, Ron always says the same thing:

"Tell Him to hurry up" (and rapture us).

Hurry up.

Better than nothing

2012-01-26T19:48:00.000-06:00

I set up my cell phone camera to send videos to Youtube. I do have a file size limit, though.

Worst case I can install the webcam to the old computer and do it the way I used to.

http://youtu.be/LxvqiM0GBA0

Who knew video blogs would be such a PITA?

2012-01-26T19:27:00.000-06:00

I don't know about you, but when someone makes a mistake it is easy to laugh. The hard part, is not laughing in the person's face.

Ron got new speakers today with a rebate card. I was fine with that. "As long as the bills get paid" - my exact comment.

Setting them up is somewhat more complicated, apparently, but not as bad as a video blog! AGH!

Let's try this. New technology = migraines.

That didn't work. [scream of frustration]

The worst part, for me, people always want to TELL me how to make it go. I have a learning disability! Write it!

Anyway, onto something I can do.

As I've been getting my lithium levels up, it's almost like I"m getting sicker. Maybe my levels were so low I didn't have energy for any emotion. [shrug] Kind of hard for me to say; but as I've been getting the levels up, MORE depression, MORE irritability; more hassles.

Today, more groggy! I was horribly depressed this morning, but crawled out of that. Got a shower and did some time in the garden, making the video I apparently cannot upload. AGH. I have a couple more ideas, though.

About all I managed was my God Time, a shower, looking around my garden, and going with Ron to Fry's to get the speakers. Sigh. Well, I'm going to have days like this.

Thank God I do have my medication.

I would have liked a hero

2012-01-22T17:41:00.000-06:00

When McCain first ran in 2000, I liked him. I was upset he lost the nomination.

I had no trouble voting for him in 2008; even though it was mostly an "against obama" vote. However, if some other democrat had run I still would have voted for McCain.

This time around, I've been really disappointed. As a born-again-evangelical; I have problems with a Mormon president (although I admire a few tenets of their faith: no alcohol, have a disaster kit, family values).

I won't get into my gripes with Gingrich; suffice to say they are MANY. I don't feel I can respect him or trust him as a leader.

Here we are: I didn't get a hero. I didn't get a candidate I would trust with the nuke button. I didn't get a candidate I feel loves God. I got a "Well, he's better than obama"

I'm sorry, I'm not voting an "Against Obama" ticket. Does that mean I'm voting Obama? No. He puts my hackles up, but I've been saying that for years.

I have to vote for someone I feel is trustworthy, reliable, loves America, ideally loves God, and is a moral person. Male or female, that's what I want. I just don't see it.

So, that means my vote is most likely going to an independent candidate. Someone got upset, and said that's a vote for Obama. No, it's a vote for my conscience.

I don't want to feel like a whore at the voting booth.

Unspeakable

2012-01-21T21:10:00.000-06:00

OH, I was horrified.

I had been getting impatient to get my blood test results. Imagine my horror when I opened the email and saw: the optimal level for lithium is .6 to 1.something. That's not bad.

What is unspeakable: my lithium level was only .1. That's right - 15% of ideal! OH! I was so aghast I had to check it several times.

I am so uptight about taking my pills. If I miss a dose, I get really upset. The rare times I've missed more than one dose, due to migraines, I had nightmares.

Of course, once I came to terms with my horrible lithium level, I had some aha moments. No wonder I am suffering from a horrible mixed depression. No wonder I feel so hopeless.

No wonder I spent hours online, looking at strange things I'd normally never consider, and had a hard time getting certain thoughts out of my head.

Oh, how dreadful. Hm. How many negative adjectives can I cram into one post?

Then I had a look at the rest of the tests. Pretty normal. Happily not diabetic in spite of a year of dreadful eating. Most tests were smack in the middle of normal or very close. The few that were out of range reflect the lab tech's diagnosis of "very dehydrated".

I'm really glad I got the test. It explains just about everything. Frankly, I'm baffled how my level got so low when I am so consistent. Maybe because I gained weight?

I'm also really glad it's something easy like a low lithium level; that, after a phone call, is easily fixed with an increased dosage (call your doctor!). An increased dosage means "feeling better right quick". Which, I actually am.

Ugh. A level like that is like a nightmare come to life. Thank God I went for the test.

Shorty Patrol

2012-01-20T19:46:00.000-06:00

Boy, I'm beat.

Last night I waited too long to take my PM stuff and got pretty depressed. I had no energy.

Finally went to bed, got some sleep. Some barking, though.

"Cuddles" the pit bull (one owned by ignorant, fearful, people and trained to be aggressive) is in heat, and a small male Chihuahua was sniffing around. We named him Shorty. He's been around for a few days now.

Bubba caught me trying to coax him over and was very upset (Bubba the black cat in the slideshow). However, the poor little guy has been running around for days. I'm sure he's hungry.

So, I got out the dog bones and broke one up, in the front yard. I put a couple more by the chair on the porch. When we got home today, only crumbs. I sure hope Shorty ate it. Maybe the cat.

Speaking of, we filled up both food bowls and his very large water bowl (holds about 2 gallons) for Bubba. He was so happy to see the spread, he scent-marked them. It's awfully cute to watch him rub the scent glands on his face against us, or an item.

I'm glad he wants them. Anyway, I haven't seen a lot of him, he's on Shorty patrol. I keep hoping I'll see a lost dog sign so I can call his mommy.

I had a really hard time getting up this morning. I still haven't gotten my blood test results. If I don't by tomorrow night I'm going to call the lab. My arms are better.

So, I got up and did my Bible study, but not the prayer part of the program, (that comes after I log off). I just didn't have the energy.

We went to a grocery store and then to work, taking some soda with us. We had a rather odd woman riding with us to work.

I mean, we are pretty nuts. I had Ron in the wheelchair, and rather than deal with the "Why are you in a wheelchair" questions I decided to make a joke of it.

OK, if you are easily offended go away. I don't want a box full of outraged comments.

So, there I am, waiting for our ride (I did this three times today). Ron's blind. Had a stroke. Sitting in the wheelchair.

I'd say "Oh, he's coming now". When the driver pulled up and got out, or rolled down the window, I would put my hand on Ron's shoulder and loudly say "In the name of Jesus, GET UP! GET UP!" and Ron would stand up.

The drivers almost fell down laughing. And, we avoided the questions. I tend to get a wee bit frustrated.

Why would they think he is in the wheelchair? Because it is fun? No, because he needs it.

Anyway, they had fun. So, the other passenger, we think might have had a brain issue. She kept making strange, random comments.

I took a soda out of my bag "Soda! One Dollar soda!" I smiled in a very baffled manner and said "Excuse me?"

"ONE DOLLAR SODA!" She seemed to get angry as I drank it so maybe she was asking for one. I told her "It isn't cold, anyway", and made a point of focusing on Ron.

She had a lunch, in a clear plastic bag, with drinks. Besides - she's limited. If I give her the wrong thing that could be a liability issue. And I was not taking off my seatbelt on the freeway and walking up the aisle to hand her a drink!

Happy to get off, as a result. One time I almost got mugged by another slow client, for my Dr Pepper. What is it with me getting mugged for Dr Peppers? [laugh] Are they that good?

We did our work stuff, Ron needed a lot of help, said I was a big help. I just love to hear it.

After work, we went to the "good bank". We have been trying another branch but they are completely incompetent. They can't do even the most basic deposit.

I was so happy to go back to the old place, and get the good tellers. I deposited the contents of my change jar; they will process it and put it in Ron's account.

We went to the mall and got something to eat. Ron has a favorite place and I encouraged him to get his favorite dish. He told me "You were right, this is the best" as he gobbled it.

We had a pretty good ride home (and another miraculous "healing" [snort]), and I took a nap. I was just wiped out.

When I woke up, I watered my plants and checked the mail. I saw Shorty again, running down the sidewalk. Him, I don't mind. He is small and harmless.

I had a little fun on the computer and did some research. I try to stay busy when I am battling depression.

Now, I just need to do my prayer time.

Tomorrow it's Ron's birthday. Unlike other years, he wants to go out. We plan to hit two food places he lives (with a large digestion period in between). He also wants me to trim his beard.

He's starting to look like one of those old time mountain men.

I still love you, Heidi!

2012-01-18T20:13:00.000-06:00

Ok, I'm back online.

I felt it was important to protest the "Piracy" acts, which are a huge erosion of free speech and civil liberties. I'm no pirate but they went way too far with these bills.

Today was pretty crazy, but we got Ron his computer back, my old computer as his backup, and Mom's old laptop as my main. I like our computer guy, but I sure hope we don't see him for a while!

We also went to Walmart and got my pills. Ron wanted some more spaghetti rings with meatballs.

Yesterday, I went to the sporting goods store and got myself a dutch oven. They are far cheaper at the sporting goods store (about half of Walmart's price).

Before that, I went to a walk in lab and got my blood test. I have bad veins. I was "very dehydrated" and they had to make 2 attempts. I am curious to see my results. They should be emailed and mailed.

I haven't heard anything yet but I'm not worried. I'm not a "mean woman", or having weird neurological issues I'd have if toxic, so I assume I'm fine. Nice to get something to prove that when I see Doc.

So, for a day off I was really busy. I did get a short nap, but the rest of it was run, run, run. A lot of that the last couple days.

Hopefully I can take it easy this weekend.

No blog tomorrow!

2012-01-17T21:20:00.000-06:00

Ron's computer is dead, so this CPU will be converted to his computer tomorrow.

I have an older laptop my parents gave me, I'll be using that.

NO BLOG TOMORROW! PROTEST!

I love you all, and pray for you daily!

Shoot the Tacos

2012-01-16T19:08:00.000-06:00

Boy, I've been tired.

Saturday: Walmart, home. Nap. Taco Bell. Home. One of my drivers was sick, coughing a lot. I think I might be fighting that off. I cleaned up the pantry and got rid of bad codes - replaced it. Put in my prescription refill.

Sunday: Tired, slept in. Finally got up, went to a feed store. Got some buckwheat and field peas (finally!). I also got some seeds. I got pretty dizzy waiting at the bus stop and it wasn't hot. What was it? God only knows. When I got home I took a nap, watched some TV. When I got to bed I slept really poorly but God honored my request to "give me a good quality of sleep".

Monday: Got up at 3 AM, got ready, went to work. Did my God Time. I'm always really pleased when I get up early after a bad night and do my God Time. We got our pastry delivery. The other vendor was sick all weekend. I believe one reason I may be so tired these last couple days: fighting things off! The other vendors fired the donut guy; so he's only coming for us. BECAUSE he's only coming for us, that means we rescheduled our delivery to later in the morning. No more 3 AM wakeups for donuts! Alright.

The sandwich guy was late, but that was fine. He's really nice. For some reason, they never put the use-by dates on the tacos. Ron was all set to call, but I told him "Ron, we're a $40 delivery. What are gas prices these days? How far do they have to drive?" He got it. It's not a big deal. I have a price gun.

I tell him "I need to go shoot the tacos and put them out". Then I go do it. He told me I was a big help today. I love to hear that.

I found a good lab to draw my blood for a lithium level. It's a good price, too. So, tomorrow, I don't eat or take anything and go to the lab, get my blood drawn, and then eat. Ron's going to help with the transit. He wants to help.

So, I consented! Ron and I are both bad about asking for help. I think, in Ron's case, because he "needs" so much already. Me, because people didn't believe I needed help. I seemed fine, why was I "faking"? So I got in the habit of not asking. I need to work on that.

After work we came home, and I was exhausted. I heard the neighbor kids playing outside (it was lovely, and a holiday). I collapsed into bed. I slept for hours, through dogs barking, a very loud radio, and of course the children. I was happy to see I'm back in a happier place with medication: I just thought "That poor mother, with all that cooped up energy in the house, a newborn, and two toddlers!"

I was too tired to do much garden work, but I did water and check on everyone. They're looking good. I need to eat the mustard greens.

Tomorrow is "fun" after I do the blood test. I'm looking forward to it.

"Your call is very important to us"

2012-01-12T19:20:00.000-06:00

Pretty tired today, but not really depressed.

Ron is having computer problems - with Excel. Oh. It's been dreadful, many calls to tech support, etc. Tomorrow we take it to the doc, before work.

Ron filed a compliment on the main person who helped us, I thought that was very considerate.

Today we went to Foodtown, worked on the computer. Then I cleaned up the pantry and a closet and rotated my canned food. Put the older tuna where I will eat it first, and got rid of some scary old cans. I was glad I did it.

Then I read some samples and and bought a couple of Kindle books (spent about $10). Later on, I got some vitamins online. I am going to try a Boswellia/Curcurmin formula for Ron's arthritis. It's pretty bad in his left hand.

Ron and I figured out how we would plan our day tomorrow. We have to call in Friday trips on Thursday or we won't go anywhere.

I took a nap, a pretty long one. It was miserably cold and hideous outside, at least to me. 40's with a nasty windchill? No thanks.

I did some work in the garden (brrr) and came in. Now I need to eat so I can take my pills.

Some quick thoughts on Tim Tebow

2012-01-11T21:02:00.000-06:00

He's rich. He's famous. Everyone loves him.

I sure don't envy him! Times like that are when the Devil loves to attack; via pride. I am sure he has thousands of women just waiting to get him naked, too - a million ways to fall.

I am praying for him; I hope he can remain strong, and humble, in the face of all the fame, fortune, and applause.

A crazy couple days, and setting a boundary

2012-01-11T20:57:00.001-06:00

It's been a crazy couple days. Monday we had torrential rains, and a very weird driver on the way home.

I wonder if he realized how awful he acted, he was incredibly defensive and angry about missing the driveway. I said "I guess you didn't see me waving" and he said "Oh, I saw you, but...[excuses]" He felt the pickup had to conform to his understanding of things, instead of reading the very clear trip notes and driving towards me as I waved. I OUGHT to have been at the more visible parking lot. They OUGHT to have connected. Ron OUGHT to have been outside with me, getting soaked, instead of in the building warm and dry until grumpy figured things out.

For me, when I get a driver like this, I'm always scared. If someone lacks the common sense to look for the driveway marked "employee entrance", driving up and down past said entrance several times, when I'm waving, it's in the trip notes, and Ron's cell is also listed for the truly confused; for someone to miss all that - I worry if they will get me home safe!

It's pouring down rain and the roads are slick. Visibility is poor. So what does he do? He's mad, so he speeds! [shudder] And yet another miracle, I made it home alive and walking. It's really stupid, the vans have tattlers in them, it's reporting his speed to headquarters as he's driving, and I'm sure it ends up on a naughty driver report. He also got into a confrontation with another guy, arguing for minutes, because the guy asked him to move. Pair that with the attitude he gave us, I doubt he'll be driving long.

I think the best drivers are the ones who don't take those hiccups personally. They just shrug it off and say "Oh, well, onto the next pickup".

As I'm typing, Ron's in here trying to talk about the old days. I think, on some level, he really misses the old hippie days. Talking about politics. I finally told him, politely, that I needed to do my blog.

I probably hurt his feelings, but I need some time by myself. The last couple days have been work, a migraine, Ron's computer died, a LOT of "helping Ron with the computer" and very, very, little personal time.

I am glad Ron finds me interesting and wants to talk, but on the other I need some alone time. He likes to sleep during the day, wake up at night, and has hours to himself every night when I'm sleeping. I had to get a nap today - I was really wiped out from the migraine, so I got pretty much zero personal time.

And during my God Time he kept asking me to help him find CD's. Agh.

So, work is going OK. Someone stole some merchandise out of a vending machine. Shame on them.

I had to set some boundaries with a guy at work. He is interested in me.

I think most of it, he's lonely. However, while "doing some work" in my area he kept bugging me, shouting my name, asking me questions, etc. I finally told him "I need to work, Please leave me alone." I asked Ron to play Big Bad Boss, "yelling" at me to get back to work, etc.

I found it disgusting, to watch him stand around and gossip with other people all day long while his coworker did all the work. Every now and then he comes by to "do some work" always making sure it's when we're here, trying to talk to me, etc.

I am pretty conservative. I really don't think it's appropriate for a single man to spend a lot of time with a married woman, especially when their jobs are completely unrelated. He offered to take me, in his truck, alone, to run errands. I said no. Ron said "What about me?" Exactly. Ron and I are a package deal.

We have a hallway, between our area and the work floor. My stockroom door's in the hallway. When I came in today, he had his stuff all over the hallway, blocking the door, I had to ask him to move it, etc. He knew we were coming in.

He is a horrible gossip and very nosy; I didn't want him nosing around in my stockroom (which is off limits to anyone but us). I made sure to padlock the door.

I go in and out of the stockroom several times in an average work day. I tried to do most of my traffic when the co-worker was present. He kept trying to talk to me. I just told him I had to work, etc.

However, at one point I needed to take some inventory into my stockroom. He was in the hall, with his co-worker. He came up behind me as I approached the door. WAY in my personal space. I stopped. So did he.

"Excuse me" I said.

"I'm not in your way." he replied. I stopped in front of the door. He was standing behind me, waiting for me to open the door. I just waited.

"The door's locked" said the co-worker.

"I know" I said.

Romeo, behind me, is pretending to "check out the doorframe". I said "The door is fine, can you back up?"

He didn't. I stood there for another moment.

"I'll come back when you're gone, then." I turned around to leave.

"Why are you going?" whines Romeo.

"I don't like being CROWDED. If you won't respect my personal space then I'll do this when you're gone."

"Oh, we're leaving!" And they left.

When another big gossip came by, I mentioned the incident to him and said "Someone needs to have a talk with him about personal space". Strongly implied, before I file a complaint.

He came back, and later messed with the doorframe (after I had specifically said no). But he stayed on the other side of the hall, working, where he should have been the whole time. Ugh. I hate work dramas.

I don't care if he thinks I'm a "mean woman" - he needs to back off. I have been very uncomfortable around him for a while.

Hopefully this will do the trick.

Keep me useful

2012-01-08T17:05:00.000-06:00

It's interesting, in some ways being a homeowner causes me more stress. Taxes, repairs, and I'm a lot more territorial.

Example: when I lived in an all bills paid apartment I didn't care about anything outside the walls. My only concern; my 4 rooms. I didn't care who'd parked where, people making noise on the walkway outside the apartment, or anything except people looking in my windows.

Last night, the neighbor's friend had parked partly in front of my house, blocking driveway access and forcing Ron to stagger up the driveway. Today, someone on the other side has parked in front of my house, on the street. The kids were outside my bedroom (we have a zero-property line), making god-awful thumping noises (against my wall) and screaming at the top of their lungs.

I can be very territorial, and God's shown me I need to work on this. I was looking out the window at the SUV in front of my house, thinking "Why"?

A little background: growing up, I received years of therapy. Most of it, not very useful.

Suddenly, I was struck with a thought. "If you don't make any noise they won't play with you". A thought from 25 years ago - shared by a counselor.

So, if I can work on my reflex territorialism, and focus on pleasing God instead, maybe praying for the driver of the car and everyone who's ever ridden in it, or will ride in it; I doubt the devil will bother throwing that at me to get me upset.

I was also struck with the thought: I am a flawed human being. In no way do I even come close to measuring up to Jesus. By recognizing and accepting that I can work on my issues, and ask Him to work through me.

I have asked God to help me with my pride issues, and I think this is one way He does that. By showing me who I am without Him, he enables me to be a lot more than I am. I can throw all my flaws at Him and let Him get to work on molding me into the child He sees.

In the meantime, it's quiet now and Ron ordered me some cheesy bread. I have a flock of happy sparrows outside the window, fertilizing the red-tips. Bubba is meowing at the birds (he likes to walk up to them, meowing conversation, until they fly off).

And I focus, yet again, on pleasing God and dumping all my ugliness in His lap. I constantly ask Him to keep me useful.

I can turn it off.

2012-01-08T12:31:00.001-06:00

Whew. I'm pretty beat.

I left you on Friday. Friday night all my neighbors had parties, lasting late. I couldn't figure out why.

Saturday, the Texans (home team) had a playoff game. AH! They won, too.

That explained the parties. It also meant, and I lay in bed laughing at myself over this: I would be far to exhausted to stress out over the anniversary of Ron's accident.

I got up at 4 AM. Then I went to the store, work, home, other location, food place, pet store (more birdseed), and Starbucks. By the time I got home, I was exhausted.

I was also pretty anxious about getting enough sleep. It's sad, I wonder sometimes if I would be helped by an antianxiety drug; but I hear they are very addictive. I am not willing to take the chance.

I was pretty anxious and a feeling a little hostile towards the neighbors. It does not take much to "break" my mood, I'm ashamed to admit.

I was feeling very petty and vengeful Friday morning, when we had our 6 AM pickup. I really hoped the driver honked several times, loudly, and gave the neighbor a taste of someone messing with his sleep.

I told myself I was better than that, and chose to turn it off. I thought, instead, that I would leave it in God's hands and do whatever I needed to be ready on time.

I turned on the porch light, etc. The driver pulled up, did not honk. However, after we had loaded, the driver had to back up. The cab has a backup beep. So, the neighbor got to realize, without us saying a word "Hey, we had to leave at 6 AM the next day after your party".

When we got home, I wanted to go outside and make some comments, especially when his friend had parked partly in front of our house, forcing Ron to walk up the driveway. But he had to watch Ron staggering up the driveway, and Ron looked pitiful.

This morning, he still had several cars out front, but they all occupied his space, not ours. Yay. A lot of times, if you let someone yell at themselves, they will do a much better job than you could ever dream.

This morning, all his kids were outside, screaming and running around in his yard. Kids really appear to take a tremendous amount of effort. I'm glad I skipped that.

Happily, they all stayed in his yard. He did get the message when I left him the note (back in November), asking the children to stay out of my yard. "For safety reasons".

Anyway, when I'm not at 100% and somewhat sleep deprived, that's the kind of issue that can just eat at me and ruin an entire day. I am choosing, deliberately, to turn it off.

I don't have to be hostile and paranoid. I can turn it off. I can choose to ignore that and think happier thoughts, instead. I can choose to focus on caring for myself and doing things that bring me joy. I can do this because I take my medication as directed.

For the short term, though, I plan to take a nap.

Horrible Burp

2012-01-06T20:25:00.000-06:00

Ron kept me pretty busy this afternoon. I told him once it helps me keep my mind of depression.

He said all the nice things I like to hear, too. I thought it was cute when he had me playing love songs on YouTube and told me "this one makes me think of you".

I got my cover crop seeds - I can get them planted this weekend, more busy, and good.

Tomorrow we have a lot planned; good. I should be OK by then.

I just had a horrible burp of depression. Ugh.

Please God, I'm ready for a mania now. Love, Heather.

Where is my lithium?

2012-01-06T09:45:00.000-06:00

I made a mistake filling up my medication days of the week organizer. Bad days. I fixed it now, and figured out how to fix it in the future, examine each tablet in my hand before just gulping.

"Where is my lithium? Where is my antidepressant?" It's compounded by the fact I take vitamins; it's a big handful! Just took it, 3 vitamins, 4 herbal supplements, and the two prescriptions. Plus I have to take it with food.

Oh, please, NEVER take lithium on an empty stomach. I got the worst pains - like I was being eviscerated. Horrible.

Anyway, if I thought I was depressed LAST week - [scoff] - well, it's a lot worse. I just feel completely lost and hopeless.

A large part of that is the medication, and the rest is due to Accident Day. Link Yup, it's tomorrow.

I never really felt we got justice. Alarmingly, the guy who ran over Ron is back on his Powered Industrial Truck. He truly frightens me when he's on that thing - he's not safe. He is very reckless, doesn't look where he's going, makes sudden sharp turns, and almost took out the other vendor and I one day on the dock.

And that, my friends, is the time he almost ran over me WITH WITNESSES. Plenty other times, too. Is he aiming for 2-for-2?

It's ironic, because the Tow Motor drivers are some of my favorite employees. He just scares me.

I also get deeply resentful when we do see him, and he does the phony "Howya doing" thing (I won't leave you alone until you tell me you are fine). I just wish he would pretend we didn't exist. Ignore us.

Don't come up, introduce yourself, and ask Ron how he's doing. Oh, that bugs me. I always want to tell him the truth.

Ron says, quite correctly, that it's his question to answer, not mine. I make myself busy, elsewhere.

He knows better than to play phony with me. I have a very expressive face.

I had so, so, hoped he would take early retirement when it was offered. But, I guess he felt he couldn't "afford" it.

What about us? Huh? It is horrible to see him walking around, acting happy, and then I go home with my husband, the verbally abusive, alcoholic.

I don't blame the guy for the accident. Nothing happens out of God's will. I blame him for staying around work after the accident. It would have been a lot more considerate if he'd gotten another job, one where I wouldn't have to see him constantly, constantly reminded of some of the worst times of my life.

I want him to GO AWAY.

Well, I didn't say this would be a pretty post, did I?

Now, I feel compelled to add: I do pray for him every day (and the police officer). Most days, I mean what I am praying for him. I hope he does get saved. He may be a reckless butthead, but he doesn't deserve hell.

I actually have a harder time with the police officer. I feel like he had a responsibility to accurately determine the accident; but instead he robbed Ron and falisfied the report. If Ron had crossed the street from south to north, he would have been hit on his LEFT side. When I mentioned it, officer jerko went on the attack and told me the accident was my fault because Ron walked to work by himself.

Ron, again, accurately stated it:

If you'd been with me: we both would have died.

The guy ran a red light! Who can predict that?

There's a worm in my garden

2012-01-03T19:11:00.000-06:00

Since I have a wooden privacy fence, I tend to take a very easy approach to my backyard. I let the leaves lay where they fall. I let the grass get a little longer, and I leave the clippings in place. I've done this for years.

The only chemical I use is fire ant bait. Other than that, I'm all organic.

Ron recently gave me "permission" to dig up a new garden bed out back. I got some emerald edging - boy, that stuff is great - my spading fork, and went to work.

I quickly realized 2 things: 1. The soil was fantastic, lots of organic matter and 2. Lots of worms, and I was hurting them. My heart just breaks for a poor, bleeding, worm.

One of the worst days in my garden, the day I accidentally stabbed a toad with my spading fork. I feel horrible about that.

I had grazed one of the worms, it wasn't mortal but it was clearly unhappy. My usual "dig it deep and fork it over" plan wouldn't work.

Besides, the soil looked great - lots of organic matter and lots of worms to prove it. I poked around tentatively, enough to prove I didn't have a giant slab of concrete (garden bed 5), shingles (garden bed 4 &6), styrofoam trash (bed 2), etc... and it was fine.

I did, however, have a monster tree root. My neighbor cut down the tree - it was an alder. He was worried about it damaging the fence, so it went. I got a new garden bed out of it, once I sold Ron.

Anyway, there I am, standing in my sweat pants and oversized blue tshirt, boots on, whacking away at the tree root with my hatchet. Handy devil, the hatchet. Sharp, too. I almost took a finger off putting it away.

I had to get it at one side of the garden bed, and then the other. I pulled it up in the middle and took it to Ron as a trophy. [giggle] You should have seen his face!

I added about a cubic foot of soil amendments (composted manure, composted cotton burrs - love that stuff, and "soil improver" mix - basically sand and shredded bark). I read a great book my John Jeavons (I try to attibute where possible), and he said a cubic foot is one and a half, five gallon buckets.

Almost everyone has a 5 gallon bucket, so that's really handy. My new garden bed is 2 feet by 8 feet. I wanted a 4 foot easment in case we need fence access, lost balls, etc. It has clearance so people can walk around it and easily access the fence.

I must have seen 8 worms as I worked the soil. Big, fat, ones. I can hardly wait to plant it. If they liked it before, wait until I'm finished adding the "candy" - more compost, cottonseed meal, bone meal (I have low Calcium), etc.

I also need to put some blood meal, on the root zone of my salad greens.

Did you go "eeew?" Most people do when I mention blood meal as a fertilizer.

I'm just using the whole animal, and the greens are always washed before cooking.

She could probably get away with killing you

2012-01-03T18:48:00.002-06:00

It's interesting: I can completely understand the hows and why's of something, expect it, even, and still be upset.

Today I woke up with the ongoing horrible headache. Sugar withdrawal. I went to work with Ron.

My job involves a fair amount of heavy lifting. I did the absolute necessities and realized my headache was getting a lot worse.

One time I went to work with a migraine, it evolved, and I ended up vomiting in a bucket all the way home. Ron yelled at me for "embarrassing" him and told me to never work like that again.   I got a lot more empathy from the driver.

I realized the bending-over-and-picking-things-up was going to be a killer, and if I had to do much more lifting I would end up vomiting. So, I told Ron, "I can't do any more lifting" and explained why.

He launched into a big tirade about how I'm "so sickly" - I haven't had a sick day in YEARS. My last sick time? 2006. 3 days. The flu. How he needs someone "dependable", etc.

If I didn't have the headache I would have yelled at him. As it is, I told him he could take the donuts off the cart, himself, and put them away. I reminded him of how he didn't want me to "embarrass" him by vomiting again, and he had a choice, he could put up his own donuts (a job he has done many times), or I could do it and ride home vomiting in my bucket. More tirade.

Now, I understand a couple of things:

Ron is a narcissist. He does expect the world to revolve around his wants, needs, and desires. Unfortunately, his childhood really cemented the "I'm the prince" attitude - his parents were told to never let him cry, or he'd go blind. He got away with murder for several years.

Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements)

Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love [in particular, the ongoing fantasy about the wonderful, "normal" woman who will satisfy Ron's every need]

Believes that he or she is "special" and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions)

Requires excessive admiration

Has a sense of entitlement, i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations [!!!!!]

Is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends [yes]

Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others [my big gripe today]

Is often envious of others or believes others are envious of him or her

Shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes

source text

Ron hits all of that; recently he has been complaining about my weight (a little over 200) because he "deserves better than a fat woman". Etc, etc. You get the idea.

I should realize, I guess: when I get sick, Ron is going to take it as a personal attack on him. He will see it as my failing him, not a need, on my part, for support and compassion.

I will not get love, support, and compassion from him when I'm sick. It's like asking a jar of peanut butter for a glass of milk. I can ask, hope, and expect all I want, but it's still a jar of peanut butter. It will never be a glass of milk - and that's a very sad conclusion: Ron will not ever be supportive of me when I'm down, sick, or weary. He will always turn it around, make it about him, how he has been betrayed and failed, etc.   Always. I have 19 years of proof.

I finally told him "Why don't you act as if someone is watching you?" as he railed at me, and God, for giving him "defective, sickly" etc.

He does know how to assume the "devoted husband" role if it is clearly defined. For instance, when I had surgery, he was very attentive the first day, then started drinking to stupor day two and I had to take care of myself.

God help me if I do need some care. I will not get it here, that's for certain.

I told Ron, I have a headache because I am getting off sugar - then I got a lecture on how I must be "weak" because Ron doesn't have a problem with sugar. So, I'm that weak, huh? I got a migraine because I cut out the sugar?   Very demeaning attitude, when I was asking for help. He made me feel about an inch tall. REAL nice.

I have NEVER done that with him, regarding the drinking. Never.

I told him, I'm doing this to get healthy, please hang in there with me, (hoping I would get some support) and he just started cursing at God for giving him a "defective".

Peanut butter. He is a jar of very-self-absorbed peanut butter.

You know, he used to get mad at me for handing out Bibles and candy to the drivers, because they wouldn't pay attention to him when I did? He would make some very ugly comments "I guess she wants to make you fat" stuff like that.

Anyway, I finally gave in, ate something with sugar, and the headache started crawling off. Ron made a big production out of "I needed something at Radio Shack, but YOU CAN'T GO so I cancelled it!"

I just thought, yes, your part is a lot more important than my pain. Thank you.

Sadly, it is obvious to me: he really thinks my life should revolve around his, like a planet, serving him, pleasing him, and adoring him. UGH.

We finally got home, I took a nap. He turned up his TV loud, to "punish" me, but I slept fine anyway. I guess I was supposed to complain, and he'd get to play victim because I "couldn't" go to Radio Shack to get the part he needed, so he could listen to the TV quietly. Therefore he HAS to play it loudly. [rolleyes]

The only way win that game is not to play. He likes to bait me and see me respond, then he can condemn me and sit in jugdgement.

It's all your fault; that's how it goes for Ron. Anything that goes wrong ends up being my fault.

Woke up, started taking out the trash. Ron got mad because I took out the kitchen trash, about half full.

He interrogated me why I had done this. I told him "It has meat stuff in it, it will stink".

He then told me I had to put all meat trash in a separate trash bag everytime I cooked, because "trash bags are expensive and I can't afford for you to waste them." I mumbled something and then I realized.

"Ron, I buy the trash bags. Why are you complaining about wasting money? It's my money." I also told him, since they were "my" bags, I would throw them out whenever they reeked, regardless of capacity. He got really mad, had a tantrum, and stormed off to his room.

I found it funny, I went out to do something in the yard and when I came back he was finishing up yelling at my empty room. Snort.

Ugh. Just stupid, stupid, stuff today.

I know I will never win the lotto: because, if I did, I would be out of Ron's life so fast his head would spin.

It's not surprising, either - after witnessing a day of "the treatment" a friend of ours told Ron, "You know, with Heather's mental illness, she could probably get away with killing you".

I, however, intend to keep ALL commandments to the best of my ability.

Sugar Detox

2012-01-02T13:25:00.000-06:00

Ron and I had fun doing the firecrackers.

I stopped buying sugary, processed, junk. It's funny. When I eat something that spikes my blood sugar, I get a headache the next day.

Yet, when I cut out all the processed crap (most of it), and avoid sugar, guess what? I get a headache. Happily my "Headache Relief Formula" tablets are cheap.

So, whining: headache for days now. Detoxing from the sugar. I'm eating headache pills every 5 hours.

Good news: down 2 pounds already. I am, currently, at my all-time high, but I'm taking the steps I need to get healthy. Once I'm effectively off the sugar, I'll have a much better time.

You can check out my food log - I'm going to be posting my food and activities every day. About the closest I plan to get to sugar; stocking the vending machine, and finally growing a sugar beet. I have wanted to do that for years, but always felt vaguely embarrassed about it.

Why not? I have heard they can be cooked and shredded into salad. I might love eating them. If nothing else, I can feed them to some livestock not far from the subdivision.

Things have been good with Ron. I'm glad I timed my sugar detox for my days off.

I hope I feel better by tomorrow; we have to work.

It doesn't have to cost a fortune.

2011-12-31T18:55:00.000-06:00

Year in review: pretty awful! I'll do a more extensive one tomorrow.

Happily my biggest issue right now, other than eating the pizza I'd already bought for New Years, is how to find some field peas for my garden.

I cannot find the seed anywhere. I ordered it from one company - never got it. I ordered it from another company - out of stock! Agh!

I love to eat them, too. [sigh] Ah, well, if that's the worst of it right now I'm OK.

Tonight will be fireworks and pizza. Ron bought plenty of firecrackers, a few whistling fountain type items, and I got a few kiddie things - like sparklers and the flaming balls that spin on the ground.

It doesn't have to cost a fortune, to be fun.

I had a great quote on Facebook - I had mentioned how Ron and I will try to avoid setting his hair on fire this year (the wind will often blow his hair into the lighter, as he holds lighter and firecrackers up near his ear). One of my friends said "If he sets his hair on fire, get a photo before you put him out!"

Ron almost fell off the couch, laughing.

"New Post"

2011-12-30T20:02:00.000-06:00

It's been a few days since I hit the "new post" button. Sorry about that.

I can trot out the old "depression" flag, and that's the majority of the issue. Doc once told me, I am a "loss of interest" depressive. I don't want to do anything I find fun. I have to force myself to it.

Heck, I was doing pretty good just to shower! One day I went to work with pretty greasy hair. Laundry? Good luck with that. So, mostly depression.

A lot of fatigue, and headaches. Today I had another migraine but the "headache relief formula" kept me functional enough to work and run errands.

I've reached a conclusion: no more sugar. It's just not worth it.

What kind of person am I, pointing the finger at an alcoholic when I'm just as bad? When I'm enslaved to a health-destroying, mood-killer, substance? There are no health benefits to sugar, and I can make a pretty persuasive argument that at least Ron's red wine has some antioxidants!

One reason I resent the whole weight loss issue: Ron always says he "deserves better than a fat woman". Oh, doesn't that just make you want to slap him? To gain 100 pounds and tell him to suck it up, jerk?

Obviously, the man who once majored in psychology has forgotten a few tricks! So, do I stay "fat' just to spite him?

That would be, idiotic. I don't want to see myself as an idiot.

God gave me this body, with the expectation I'd care for it. I need to do that, just from a purely spiritual standpoint.

And while I can do everything I need to care for Ron and our business, it would be a lot easier if I could knock off this extra 50 pounds.

Gasp! I said it! And I didn't die!

I can be pretty horribly, internally, regarding "fat people". Horrible. And while I may not be saying any of it out loud God hears it and it's shameful. I need to work on that.

I need to focus on taking care of me. Of course, on some level, it may very well reward Ron's stupid attitudes about a fat wife. He makes it sound like getting last place.

But, I knew getting into this, he had some attitudes. I can't exactly say I'm shocked.

While I never intend to get back down to the 130 I weighed when we met, that doesn't mean I have to stay over 200, either. [shrug] Only God knows, my ideal weight.

Somewhere, I think, between 150-170 pounds. I would be very happy to get there.

Depressing video blog

2011-12-25T19:50:00.002-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbDy-h8WL20

He'll take my adoration when I'm manic

2011-12-24T21:58:00.000-06:00

A sing-a-long? Oh, you poor thing. You don't know. I am incredibly tone deaf. Every cat I have ever known flattens his ears back and flees when I sing.

I'm listening to Theocracy (Gospel Metal)'s version of Christmas carols. Ron calls it "Your devil music". [snicker]

I'm pretty sure I can coax Ron into making a video blog; I'll appeal to his vanity and tell him an adoring fan requested it. [giggle]   He tends to get moody on holidays, so it'll be a good distraction.

Boy, I have felt like crap this week. Crappy horrible depressed mood. We have gotten lots of rain (I think the yard has gotten about 4 inches this week), which is wonderful - but I do miss the sun. Cold, too.

Plus, I started cycling depressed. UGH. Throw in my "new" cycle and it's not a fun week. OH, and the migraine. [wheezing]

I can't tell you how many crappy Christmases I have had, either sick, depressed, or both. Good thing God made me, and understands I can't always be joyous. He'll take my adoration when I'm manic.

As it is, I'm doing well to eat, take my medication on time, shower, and laundry. I did manage to drag myself out into the garden for a few chores. Today, for instance, I planted onions. Good timing. The soil was a little dry (ha!), but not for long. Once I got the onions in we got hours of rain. Lots of rain outside.

Thank you, God for a good roof, and an even better heater. We had a new roof put on right before we bought the house. Right after we did, we got 19 inches of rain in one month.   Gulp. Really glad we had the new roof. Glad I have it now.

I'm glad it appears we are edging out of the drought. We humans desperately need the water, broken water pipes, shifting foundations, etc. Then you think of the poor animals, domestic and wild - desperate for food and drink.

Ron's fix worked, by the way, speaking of wild animals. Nothing in the attic. Praise God. Oh, that was horrid. People kept telling me it was probably a rat, raccoon, or possum. All of them just big rodents - and awful.

Santa Cat has been doing well. I find it funny, he loves to escort me to the mailbox. He seems concerned I might find a friend. I did bring home a cat, about 8 years ago.

A lady down the street, in the bad neighborhood, didn't fix her tabby. Tabby had a litter, and one of them was solid black. Just like my cat Midi. Hm. I did the math, and realized he could be Midi's (Midi had been fixed in October, and Bubba born in January), so I always took an interest in him.

Boy, that was a bad year. Ron's accident, in and out of the hospital all year. We lost Shadow, Ron's baby. I lost Midi. Bubba grew up, happy and content living down the street. I made friends with him, it took forever. It was pretty tough to be a black cat in an ignorant neighborhood. If someone believes that a black cat is bad luck, wouldn't hurting the cat bring worse luck?

Ugh. I am not superstitious.

Anyway, early December his "Mom" moved. I was pretty bummed, I was going to miss him. I secretly wanted him for myself, but he had a home. Besides, even if I did steal him - and it would have been stealing - I couldn't exactly hide him.

She left, took her bird feeder. I got whacked with a horrible December depression and holed up in the house for about a week. I finally dragged myself out for a run.

Poor old Bubs came running up to me, much thinner. That bitch had left him to starve. I was furious.

I immediately got some cat food, but Bubba wanted petting before he ate. Poor baby so obviously realized he was unwanted and abandoned. After he ate, I tried to talk Ron into taking him, but Ron made a valid point "She could be coming back for him".

So, I talked to the landlord. Nope, she was gone. Bitch.

I told the landlord, he's MY cat now. He just shrugged.

I continued to feed Bubba and have our cuddle sessions every night, while plotting how to convince Ron to adopt him. I knew, once Ron met Bubs, he'd love him as much as I did. I also knew Ron was unwilling to love, and lose, another cat.

I took it to God. Prayed on it.

It was a miserable night, much like tonight. It was raining, cold, and windy. I'd fed Bubba, pleading with Ron to let the cat in the house. No.

I went for my run (I was training for a half marathon), and Bubba met me. Every lap, he wanted me to pet him. On my last lap, I coaxed him into coming along with me. We went home.

I sat down in the driveway, still in my running clothes and covered in sweat. I was getting cold.

"You're in" I told him "I will take care of you until you die, but you HAVE TO SELL RON. You have to make Ron WANT you, OK?" Bubba purred and nudged my hand with his head.

I opened the door. We had placed Ron's bed in the living room. Bubba made a beeline straight for Ron and got on the bed, nudging at his hand.

[this is the same cat who took 5 months before he permitted any petting] I grinned.

"Heather! What's this?" Ron began petting Bubba.

"This is the cat I told you about".

"Heather" (still petting, and I could hear Bubba purring across the room) "I TOLD you, I don't want another cat."

"Ron" I pleaded. "It's cold. It's raining. Please let him warm up a little before I put him back out."

"OK" I noticed Bubba was climbing into Ron's lap as he lay down on the bed.

I went and took my shower, dried off, checked my computer, and got ready. I opened the front door. A freezing blast of wet rain blew into the room.

Ron bolted up, the cat still lying across his body. "Heather! SHUT THE DOOR!'

"Don't you want me to put him out?" Ron stroked the cat again as Bubba happily slitted his eyes at me, purring so loudly he roared.

"No."

That's how Bubba came to stay, about 8 years ago. A few weeks later I found Baby Girl in a trash can. Bubba never liked her, and when my "neighbor" poisoned her (the day we moved), he didn't miss her. He is now extremely careful about letting me out of the house. He will follow me for blocks, making sure I don't encounter an adorable kitten or pathetic stray.

And he ALWAYS goes with me to check the mail, even in the rain.

Even if I did find a cutie, or more likely a "Heather's special"; I promised Bubba he would be the only cat, after Frosty died.

I have a 3 day weekend. Today was nice. We had lunch with my aunt and uncle. Gift exchange. They liked it. I liked my stuff.

I had spent days prepping myself for sleep deprivation tonight - but the neighbor is not having his all night, raucous party. Maybe because his wife is pregnant, or they just had the baby.

That's great for me. I don't think they would have had much fun with 40 degree temperatures, gusty winds, and rain.

My mail carrier liked her present. I had gotten some truffles, but chocolate gives me a migraine so I regifted. Everyone wins. I have 2 mysterious boxes from Mom and Dad, and one from my sister.

I gave up on getting my field peas from the online store. I don't know if they shut down for the holidays or what, but I'm not going to stress out over $10. Shame on whoever is at fault.

Ron said "A neighbor probably got it". I hope they enjoy their field peas! I also had a hand tool. Oh, well.

When Ron was in the hospital, hooked up to life support, I realized there is very little in life worth getting upset about. Really, is it worth it?

Praise God medication helps me remember that.

So, I was looking around last night, trying to find another company. Boy, some of those organic garden shops online really hose you. I found a good site, once I get my goodies I'll tell you.

I got my field peas, a whole pound; a pound of a cover crop mixture; a packet of red mustard - it is so pretty - just a beautiful plant; and lastly, something I'd been wanting for a while - red oakleaf lettuce. I got a huge packet of the regular green kind, at the feed store. I think it's great, but I love red/purple greens too. I had wished for it, and got it! Yay!

Best of all, I used this company years ago, when I lived in crack-town. I got my stuff quickly, got a free sample, and the seed did very well.

In fact, I realized tomatoes wouldn't thrive on my balcony - not enough sun, and gave all my ( happy) seedlings to some co-workers, who brought me tomatoes all summer!   So, good stuff.

It was also a good distraction. Garden work this morning, planting the poor onions I got 2 months ago. Some of the transplants clearly didn't make it, but I have at least 3 dozen good prospects planted over by a collard (a good companion planting). I had forgotten them, been depressed, etc. I found them the other day and realized I had to get them in. I did.

When I realized I was getting depressed, I'd bought some pears and tart apples. Tonight, I made some of my spiced pears and apples. I made a very light syrup (I have no joy with sugarfree canning), peeled, cored, and chopped the fruit, put it in the syrup with some spices (I didn't have any cinnamon), and cooked it until soft. Then I canned it - water bath, only took 20 minutes. All my lids popped too. It kept me busy. I have a small amount of leftovers for tomorrow's breakfast.

It's hard to know the line sometimes, where does "staying busy" become "running around like a gerbil and ignoring my feelings" and when does "resting" become brooding?

It's funny; when I'm down, I need to stay busy and work on being kind to myself. When I'm up, I need to work on resting, being deliberate, focusing on my "core values" (frugality, honesty, faith, no gossip, etc), and resting.

It is fascinating; I really am 2 different people, and often more than that - while continually being "me". Happily, while I had plenty of pain, I never "split" into multiple personalities. Yike.

I'm getting tired, so parting thoughts: Merry Christmas!    Make it a good one!

And, if you just aren't feeling it; God loves you anyway. (((hugs))

Whatever happened to soffit?

2011-12-21T18:36:00.000-06:00

Oh, I'm beat.

Something has been waking me up in the middle of the night, now and then, for a while. I couldn't determine what though, and blamed the dog that lives behind us.

I gradually realized something was scrabbling around in the attic at night. It was very bad on Monday night, and woke me up. As I lay awake in bed, a thunderstorm rolled in. My neighbor had put a bucket right under the corner of my house, at the eaves, and I had to endure a very loud DRIP DRIP DRIP.

I got up at 2 AM. Got a lot done, then went to work. Worked, came home. Talked to Ron about the problem, worked up our nerve, and went into the attic. Whatever it is, doesn't sleep in the attic during the day, so I can put up vent covers to keep them out. Good. Ron went up into the attic and changed the light bulb, and put a small radio turned to the news station. It worked. Nothing last night.

When the neighbor's wife left to run an errand, I went over into the yard and found the bucket. I moved it a few inches. We are a zero property line boundary. Anyway, it's been moved. I can certainly move it again, or mention it to the neighbor. Considering he has two toddlers and an infant, I doubt he wants a bucket of water on his property, anyway.

Last night I slept great, but woke up with a migraine. Booo.

I managed to get to Home Depot with Ron, and bought some "undereave vent covers". What ever happened to soffit? They mean the same thing.

So, we got the screens, got the nails for them - Ron says I can just nail them in place, and I have never known him to be wrong on a carpentry issue. He actually built a lot of furniture for me, 3 cat condos, 2 gates, a bedside table, microwave stand, and bookcase from scratch; and assembled 2 couches, a rocking chair, a kitchen table and chairs, a treadmill (sold before we moved from CA), a bed, 2 dressers, and a wall of bookcases. I'll trust him on the fasteners!

He always planned it out in his head, then went to the store and had the wood cut to his specifications. Then he would assemble it, and it was always very rugged. The only problem we had with the gate, was the large young man next door climbing on it.

I felt pretty dreadful, and went to bed. Ron made me an ice bag, which helped, and I took a phenergan and beat out the nausea before it showed. The phenergan also helps me sleep.

I woke up around 5, in terrible pain. Took some excedrin - which makes a total of 3 lithium-elevating drugs in my system. It's good to know these things.

I ate some pasta. I know, not low carb, but I kept it down. I put some olive oil and butter on it, and it digested well. I was really craving salt, and ate quite a bit. My medication makes my body lose salt. I could get really sick if I didn't replace it.

Finally felt well enough to get online, and here I am.

Tomorrow we go to Walmart.

Sunday Night Readers

2011-12-18T16:44:00.000-06:00

Pretty tired tonight, but I know I get a lot of Sunday night readers. Happily, yesterday I was fairly manic; we went to the store, went to work, stocked it all, fixed a down vending machine, etc. Came home, I took a nap.

Then I raked the front yard (maybe 400 square feet). I poisoned the fire ant mound - pillow sized, in Ron's path to the mailbox - that would have been DREADFUL! I am completely organic, except for fire ants.

Speaking of organic, I put the leaves in the compost pile after some internal debate. The ash tree is a "common" ash, with seed pods. If I put the leaves in my compost I get baby ash trees coming up for months. My pile doesn't get hot enough to destroy them, and that's OK. They are easy enough to remove and often draw my attention to other problems.

I am not always very observant. While placing the leaves (I got a nice layer), I noticed some old bean pods are sprouting. I have pole beans coming up in the compost. That's fine too. I am pretty relaxed. At least I know the pile gets enough sun to support my squash idea. I would like to plant some moschata squash in the pile, next spring.

I do need to bring home some coffee grounds, so I can get some nitrogen. I have a lot of carbon-rich "brown" items.

Finished all that. Checked my plants, they needed some water. I watered them all with my hand-held watering can. It's more work but I get a closer interaction with the plants. I also ensure the plant is getting every drop. A lot of times, with the hose, the water comes out too fast and runs off into the grass or pathway.

I found it very relaxing. The purple, frilly kale (I have 2 different purple kales) caught my leg as I walked by. After I finished my plant tending, I went into the house and did all the dishes.

I love a nice mild mania. I get ALL the chores!

I got a pot with a tight fitting lid, and a knife. I went out in the garden, and cut some kale. I also got some collards and chard. The only chard to survive was pink, and yellow. As I munched a pink stalk, I tried to decide if I liked it. I decided I certainly didn't hate it. I chopped the greens, de-stemmed them (more on the stems in a sec), and put them into about a cup of boiling water. My pot was stuffed. I just added a little salt and turned it on low for about 25 minutes.

I then turned my attention to the stems. I chopped them, and threw them in my stockpot, along with the veggie-stuff from the freezer. I like canned green beans, from the store (they are so cheap commercially it doesn't make sense for me to can). When I eat any store-canned bean or veggie, , I pour off the water into a ziplock. When cutting veggies, I put those hard ends and stems, too. It's all nice and clean. Carrot tops, etc.

I took that out, it was full, and dumped it in the stockpot with a quart of tap water, and set that to simmer. Boom. Veggie stock. When it was done, I strained it and canned it. Boom. I have a quart and a half of beautiful stock. They sealed great, and I only had to process for 30 minutes.

Since I was manic, I got out the lentils (my favorite bean) and made some chili lentils. I found some chili powder, with a good date. I put a cup of lentils, a half teaspoon of chili powder, and about 3 cups water in a small pot without a a lid. When they finished, I added some grated cheese.

As I told Ron "They are FAR better than I expected!" Once I cleaned up, I went to bed.

I didn't sleep very well, neither did Ron.

We woke up early and went to Walmart. I got some soda, powdered drink mix, and vitamins. I was happy to see the folic acid. I couldn't find the Black Cohosh for some reason. Agh. They didn't have lentils, either. How can a grocery store not have lentils? I felt very "thick" mentally and had a terrible time finding ANYTHING.

I was really happy I got some cold and flu remedies. My first winter as a cashier, I got the flu and mono, because sick people come in, buy their nyquil and hack all over the poor cashier. I think that is VERY rude. I prefer to buy the stuff I would need, when I'm healthy. That way, when I'm sick I can literally reach under the bed. I also put the sore throat spray where Ron can find it if he wakes up with a sore throat.

Recently, when manic, I cleaned up my "cold kit" and got rid of all the bad codes, leaving me with a nice collection of sugar-free cough drops! I replaced a lot of it at the dollar store, and the rest today at Walmart.

Ideally, I will buy some 1000 mg vitamin C. Ron always wants that. Maybe my next Swanson order.

Our ride came, and took us to the taqueria we like. Ron wanted to try a dish I know is good. I went with a bacon and egg taco, and a quesadilla. Ron got his dish and loved it.

I told him "I thought it was really cute, you started out so civilized with the fork, but finished eating with your left hand!" I do find it endearing. I was so happy to see him enjoy his food. I ALWAYS position Ron so he is not visible to other diners.

Our ride was about half an hour late, but we are quiet and good tippers. They don't mind. The last time we had breakfast, a middle aged guy brought in his mother, in a wheelchair. They sat next to us and ate. Same happened today! It was the disabled corner!

We went home, and I was beat. Looks like today was going to be a low energy depression day. So, I took a long nap. When I woke up I saw, literally, 10 doves in the yard. Ringneck Mourning Doves are huge birds, and least mine are.

I am, generous.

Here is an online image:

Make it a little fatter, and give it 10 friends, and you've got my backyard.    source

But wait! Look, it's the House Sparrows! They live in my red-tip bushes. I had a dozen or so of them cheeping and pecking away.

The cat was having a great time, watching them. I also have some cardinals, a blue jay, and the occasional purple finch.   Good times.

I went out and fed them, then checked on the plants. Bubba got out and scared the birds. They're not stupid.

Ron and I have talked about getting a microphone outside, so he can hear the birds. I think it's a great idea.

When I came in, I cleaned up the front room a little bit, took out some trash, and decided to relax a little.

That's my weekend.

Take your pills!

2011-12-16T18:13:00.000-06:00

I've been seeing a lot of paranoia on Facebook, which is sad. Someone on a message board said she was afraid to post because "Is this safe? Am I putting myself at unnecessary risk by 'voicing' my beliefs so strongly?"

I strongly suggested she get some medical help. It is easy for me to see, in others, what I battled for so long.

One thing I can say, I may go up, I may go down, but I'm not paranoid anymore. I don't have delusions (one, I will share now: for months I was convinced my sister's daughter was actually mine - even though I have never given birth, she looks just like her parents, etc... yet I couldn't get it out of my head). I don't have delusions, anymore. I was paranoid and delusional; I know how it "feels".

I always, always suggest they talk to a good doc and get some medication. God knows mine has worked great.

Which is a good thing, because I started cycling depressed again. Boo. Ron was actually the first to notice, and has been really supportive. "Can I do anything to help"?

I told him, today, I had planned to run an errand on the bus. It would require 4 bus rides total and a long walk. He was happy to set up a paratransit trip with himself in the wheelchair.

I accepted. I was looking for a sale item; one I had missed last year. They only do the sale once a year. The items are 75% off, for a couple of days. I really, really, wanted to "hit that".

I went in, looked around, asked, and no one knew what I was talking about. I made a pretty careful search of the main areas of the store, pushing Ron in the wheelchair. Nothing.

He encouraged me to keep looking, if I didn't find it, he promised he would buy me one at full price. He laughed when I told him, I want it at THIS price!

Finally, I found it! I wanted 5 items (4 are going for gifts). He was such a good sport about being the human shopping cart, holding them all in his lap. We went to checkout, and his wisecracks had everyone in line, laughing.

We had a good ride home, too.

He's been really good about letting me know I'm appreciated, even before I got depressed again. I really need to hear that, especially when depressed.

I watched a show on TV about someone who didn't take their meds, and murdered people. Well, people, that's why I take my pills. I have a huge responsibility.

If a diabetic or an asthmatic doesn't medicate properly, they will die. It will be ONE sad and pointless death.

If I don't medicate, [snort] it will get very bad, very quickly. I will become paranoid, delusional, hallucinate, and very hostile. I'd put a high probability that I would kill at least a couple of people before killing myself.

All I have, keeping myself from that, is a line of medication. You can bet I am going to keep that line strong!

Having this illness can be a blessing; I have some great painting ideas. I am very creative and fearless. I feel very close to God. However, this illness can be deadly to many people, so I have a responsibility to protect society, by taking my medication.

I'm only fit for the public, on my medication. No side effect will deter me from taking my meds.

Did you know I carry a months' worth of medication on me at all times? In case I have to take Ron to the hospital, family emergency, if I get injured, or something? I will always be medicated. Always.

And, like I told Ron, I'm always out there, telling people, take your pills, as directed. You can have a great life, if you take your medication consistently. I was so horrible "before" Ron was willing to put himself in the hands of Adult Protective Services. Now he's a happy husband. Why? Because I take my pills.

So I do, and I tell others to do it. If you have some wierdness in your head, go see a doctor, BE HONEST and tell them exactly what is going on.

It isn't always hearing voices. I have never heard "voices". I heard a really alarming laugh once, that wasn't real. But normally I heard music. I see things out of the corner of my eye. I had obsessive thoughts about the government coming to get me and put me in a camp. I couldn't stop thinking about it (and why I wish, so desperately, my "FEMA camp friends" would consider medicating). I would get a thought about anything stuck in my head and couldn't let it go. I would obsess about "wrongs" done to me. I got depressed, and thought about suicide. It got so bad I couldn't NOT think about suicide. Wow, I'm still alive, that was the best I could do. I would talk a lot, stay up for days, spend a lot, and get very hyper. I didn't understand, but I told the professionals - and they were able to get me the medication help I needed.

Thank God.

Do you know, I have only really LIVED for the past 5 years?

Please, take your meds.

A trip down memory lane

2011-12-14T18:07:00.001-06:00

Oh, I'm so happy. I found Theocracy Christmas music, for free. Christian. Metal. Christmas music. So perfect. AAAH. It's got me thinking about some assorted Christmases I've known.

When I was a kid, guaranteed I WOULD get the flu around Christmas. Every year. It was pretty horrible. And it would linger forever. I always got pretty much anything I wanted, and a lot besides. I think my favorite childhood gift (other than learning to crochet when I was 8), was a weaving loom.

My adoptive Mom would cook the most delicious tidbits. Little cheesecakes on a Nilla wafer. Fudge. Oh. The fudge. A huge dinner. Special Christmas morning casserole. Good times!

We always had an artificial tree. Dad would argue, every year, it was in perfectly good shape, so why buy a real tree? So, the memory of "Dad taking the disassembled Christmas tree out of the attic, and assembling it" is another happy memory.

I remember when I figured Santa out - and Mom begged me not to tell my little brother, who still had a couple years left. I didn't.

In my late teens, I started getting horrible Christmas depressions on top of the flu. 1991 was a memorable, miserable, year. I started getting sick on the last day of school We had elderly family visiting, so I was banished to my bedroom for the duration. I had no appetite (that always used to bother Mom), and I remember slowly picking apart and orange, and eating it, as I read a book from high school English (a Jack London/Mark Twain anthology). Mom kept heating up the same bowl of chicken soup, wondering when I'd get my appetite back!

Christmas 1992 - I had run off with Ron. We were living in a poorly converted garage apartment. I had Mono! Ron felt terrible because he couldn't afford a present, and was happy when he won a raffle at the vocational school. They taught him computers, and did a fine job.

Every year I worked retail (another couple years), I always got sick! Always depressed! I was pretty far from God so for me it was about presents. Ron got a part time job in 1994 to supplement his check, so he liked to get me things I wanted (books, etc).

In 1998, I was working at office jobs, thanks to Ron, who'd taught me computers. I already know Mac, but Ron taught me DOS (remember "Bad command or file name?"), and I learned more as I went along.

I had gotten a job at a company. We'll call it Fredco. Sorry, if there is a real Fredco.

Anyway, the Fredco employees were very ambitious. I'm not. To me, money's always been a way to pay the bills, nothing more. It's a very useful tool but I'm not making it my god.

Money, was God, at Fredco. We had a pretty big conflict right there. Even before Ron's accident, I tried to focus on what matters: quality time with those you love.

I listened to country music at the time. Seems funny now. I DREAMED of moving to Texas, a little house, and a garden! Yay! I did it! They wanted money, money, money. Oh, and love too.

I had no problem showing up and putting in a good day's work. I was working 12 hour days with the commute, in the winter, so every minute of daylight, I was chained to my desk. I always tried to get out during lunch and soak up some sun.

I had my first Red Bull then. Boy, it was vile. I tried, and failed, to like coffee. I just couldn't. I'm more of a hot milk kind of gal.

I was horrified when I left my ATM card in the machine, by accident (since then, I have witnessed several normal people do just that, and always make sure they get their card back). The guy in line behind me punched "another transaction" and stole $240, which was later returned (they got the camera footage and I signed an affadavit). I made the mistake of sharing this at work, and got a lot of verbal abuse about my "stupidity".

I thought that was completely unkind. I already felt terrible. How is yelling at me - and I lost my money, not theirs - going to help?

Anyway, we had some value differences, but I didn't think much of it until the day after Thanksgiving. Before I was robbed, I had bought a small Christmas tree and a string of lights. I got a garland, and set up my tree at work.

People LOVED it. They would come and stand by my desk, talking, and complimenting my little tree.

My boss came by and ordered me to take it down. I said, everyone likes it. She said, the building owner is Jewish. I told her, but he just complimented the tree. He likes it.

Besides, I added, I didn't have anything religious on the tree. I could see a problem if I had Bible Verse ornaments or a nativity. I told her, I wouldn't do it.

A week later, I got canned, and the tree and I had to wait outside for an hour, on the shuttle. That was an awful day. I had to figure out how I'd tell Ron.

He came home and greeted me. I started crying. Ron panicked. "What's wrong?" I kept sobbing. Ron always worried his vastectomy would fail one day: "Are you pregnant?" No. "Did you get fired?" I began wailing. He patted me consolingly and told me it would be OK, he wasn't mad.

So, for that Christmas I took 2 weeks off (Ron insisted), even more depressed than usual, staring at my little Christmas tree, every day. Probably the worst Christmas ever.

Well, I wasn't sick that year. Once New Year hit, I applied for, and won, unemployement, but I only needed 3 checks (even with my disabilities!). I embarked on a serious job hunt; and then won a job at the sister agency to Ron's. They liked the idea of "keeping it in the family" and all had been told. Nepotistm. I love nepotism - it's kept me employed for over 13 years (seeing as I am married to my boss).

1999 was interesting, we went to visit Ron's family, and enjoyed Houston. It was lovely and warm. Ron made his brother roll down the windows and we savored the fresh air. I took some echinacea prior to our flights, Ron did not. He also smoked a cigarette after he'd had a few beers, with his brother.

Ron was a petri dish, just waiting to incubate. He got horribly ill. There he is, feverish, coughing up blood (he had the flu and pneumonia) and we lived about a mile from the hospital. He refused to call a cab, "I don't want to get the driver sick!" I could understand, so we walked, very slowly, to the hospital. I wish I'd had a wheelchair.

The doctor examined Ron, diagnosed him, said "I'd love to admit him but we're full" told me I'd make a good nurse, keep him hydrated, wrote prescriptions, and sent us home. So, I brought in Y2K nursing Ron! [laugh]

By Christmas 2000, we had landed in Houston. We were thrilled, because Ron had been accepted to the blind vendor program. I also had a good job with a company that respected me. They knew I'd be quitting in July to work for Ron and figured I was cheaper than a temp. We did alright.

Christmas 2001 and 2 were awful; trying to run two business, drowning in a sea of red ink. I was manic, and one year I got some nice CZ earrings for "the girls". They loved them. I wonder if they still have them.

Christmas 2003, Ron was still recovering from his accident and we were back at work, trying to figure how we'd cope.

2004 - we had the house! Yay!

2006 was awesome, as my first MEDICATED Christmas!

And here we are, Christmas 2011. Well, not yet.

I hope you enjoyed my trip down memory lane.

The Lithium always wins

2011-12-13T19:00:00.001-06:00

Today I found out yet another family member has bipolar disorder. I really wonder, if you threw a dart at my family tree, would you hit a "normal?" Doubtful.

Well, I pray for everyine. I also have a page in my notebook; and pray for people with mental illness (the right medication and will to use it, proper diagnosis, affordable medication, etc). I just wish I didn't know so many who qualified.

Don't get me wrong; I love them. But I know it is hell, and I hate to see anyone, especially those I love, suffering the way I do. AGH.

Not much I can do, just pray. Encourage them to take medication as directed, avoid alcohol, and strive for a stable routine. However, we have at least 4 generations running around out there. [sigh]

I am glad I'm enrolled in a genetic study for bipolar disorder. I hope, one day, they will be able to do a DNA swab and tell a parent "Your child has ABZ Bipolar disorder. As she starts to exhibit symptoms we'll start her on lithium, and antipsychotics as needed.."

That is, until the Rapture.

I was thinking today. I was at the Post Office. A family had come in to get passports. They were jabbering away in Spanish and I thought "You know, if I didn't believe in the Rapture I'd be pretty annoyed." When did America become a Spanish speaking country? If I really thought I'd be around in 40 years, I'd have been upset.

If nothing else, my belief in the Rapture has certainly kept me calm! Things that MIGHT bother or worry me (like, retirement), I just shrug off and take a "Cross that bridge when I come to it" attitude.

Last night I started getting manic. I slept in today, got 10 hours.

I had a lot of energy this morning; got my God Time, talked to Ron for a while, showered (funny, I was so depressed last night I didn't have the energy!), got my presents, and left.

I went to Foodtown, got some soda, a little candy for the Postal Clerks, and some last minute additions to the goodie boxes. Now, there's a happy memory; the goodie box.

I don't have a lot of ideal memories of my mother. If I had to claim one, it would be of her suicide attempt when I was a toddler. She attempted suicide while I was home. I remember a lot of paramedics, I'm scared and crying, something written on the wall, and someone picking me up. The second memory would be myself, as an older child and young teen, listening to my mother sobbing on the other end of the phone, begging my forgiveness. Telling her it was OK, I forgave her (I do).

However, I also have a lot of happy memories of goodie boxes. See, when Mom was manic one gift just wasn't enough. [laugh] If you know bipolar disorder, you know what that means. I remember when I was about 7. She bought me a whole zoo's worth of stuffed animals. My adoptive Mom was shocked.

When I was 10, "we" moved cross-country. My bio-Mom wasn't too good with birthdays and Christmas. I might get something, I might not. More often, I got a lavish gift box in the middle of the summer for no apparent reason (I'm good for aummer manias, too).

So, my adoptive Mom would bake the cake and the birthday meal, plan the party, and select a present. Birth Mom was "good" for the occasional goody box. They were always stuffed full of various, interesting items.

My sister does that, too. I LOVE YOU SUE! Just in case she is reading. Anyway, she always makes an interesting little goodie box.

Generally, it seems like the holiday, whatever it is, hits right in the middle of one of my depressions. I was feeling very sorry for myself the other day, mentally whining about the difficulty of selecting presents when depressed. I don't have the energy or creativity. I feel like whatever I select will end up in a trash can, unappreciated. Horrible, right?

I have also MISSED many festive occasions, I'm ashamed to admit, because I couldn't lick the bad thoughts or muster the energy for a gift box. It's sad, and I'm sorry.

However, last night, as I began to get manic, I had some great ideas for inclusion in the goody boxes (Dad and adoptive Mom, and my sister). I finally had the energy and inspiration. If Allen is still reading, something he liked went to my sister. I already had the meat, but I was able to add a few condiments.

The grocery store provided the finishing touches. I wore my Santa hat. Happily, it was not as bad as I'd feared, at the Post Office. It wasn't much busier than normal. I wore my santa hat and brought candy.

Please, if you are going to ship something, bring some candy for the clerk. They will love it. Mine did.

Did I have anything hazardous? Well, some sweets... got them all shipped off in their medium flat rate boxes. I love those things; and got some more.

By the time I finished, the lithium had effectively "slammed" the mania. I was pretty fatigued, so I went home.

On the way home, I met a woman on the bus.

"I remember you! You gave me a Bible!"

[grin]

You don't like money?

2011-12-12T19:31:00.000-06:00

You know, I get it. Some people find me annoying. I understand.

However, in this wonderful internet age, no one has to read a thing I type. Between message board "Ignore poster" buttons, "Unfriend" or "block" on Facebook - and the simple fact that anyone can delete a bookmark, why would anyone choose to read something I wrote, if they don't like my style?

I talk a lot, I get that. I talk a lot about my problems; because I hope it can help other people, with, I hope, "Lesser" problems. I talk about my problems because I want to be a source of encouragement for people with mental illness and those who love them: "Heather does all right because she takes her medication as directed". If you don't like that, you can stop reading. I can't force anyone to read a thing I type.

I hope, people, would also learn from me; a 20-years-older "boyfriend" might bear a little consideration. Drinking is bad. Especially if you have a family history of "problems". While I'm at it, don't drink when pregnant - while the child may APPEAR fine they could have lifelong, devastating, brain damage that will plague them.

I APPEAR fine, and most people doubt I have any "problems" but as they get better acquainted, they realize "Hm. Something, here, is off." I see it in their eyes when I make an off the wall comment. I try not to, I try to be relevant and appropriate, but a lot of times people just LOOK at me after I say something and I go, OH. I did it again.

Some people get angry at me; because I express myself fairly well in this context, they assume I am fine and just whining. Of they don't like the way I say what I do.

Recently I have had people getting upset at me because I chose not to have kids. I think, you should be thanking God I never had kids!

1. Would be born blind, due to Ron's genetics.
2. Strongly possible Deaf, too, due to Ron's genetic nerve deafness - he has a couple of deaf cousins and can't hear me unless we are in the same, small, room - and I'm facing him. I have to "point" my mouth at his ear.
3. Mental illness. Mine is more severe than my mother's, I assume it would be far worse in my child.
4. I am a carrier for Bubble Boy syndrome. That's very bad news, and very expensive to treat. Even if the taxpayers picked it up, which you would, it is incurable except with a bone marrow transplant and anti-rejection drugs for the kid's whole life. Also expensive and difficult.
5. I am not fit to be a parent! I can't say it any clearer! Regulars know why!
6. Neither is Ron! And if you're a regular, you KNOW why.
7. We are low income, we don't drive, etc.
8. The world is a sick and evil place.

I am sure, if, God wanted me pregnant, it would have happened. The God who created the universe could certainly make it happen. And it never did, so I safely conclude it was NOT GOD'S WILL.

But the people, we'll call them the "judgers" - don't want to hear that. They want to tell me how to live my reproductive life and I just think, "What gives you the right to judge me?"

Nothing!

You don't have the right to judge me, only God can do that!

I know I am living a life pleasing to God; and I'm working on becoming MORE pleasing to God every day of my life. That is my #1 goal, above and beyond ANYTHING else I accomplish during my "life". Anything else is just a step on the road to "Pleasing God".

Besides, whenever I ask the "judgers" if they will adopt my severely disabled and EXPENSIVE baby, suddenly they stop talking. So, they want me to to do something they won't! Let's add "hypocrite" to "judger".

Really, I would think anyone who pays taxes, would be delighted to know that because I married a sterile (by choice) man, we have saved the taxpayers at least a million dollars.

Like the commercial says, you don't like money?

Houston Squash

2011-12-10T13:45:00.000-06:00

Still battling depression.

I have to pick how to spend my energy. Ron loves it when I cook him things; so I did that. He was a good sport about doing the dishes. I made him some tuna salad with hardboiled eggs, and some pinto beans. I canned most of the pintos (and sausage).

Today, I made some 15-bean soup, with a sprinkle of bacon. I also put in some fava beans, and some dried pole bean seed from my garden (I picked it off the vines). I added a lot of salt and garlic, two of my favorites. It's extremely doubtful Ron would eat any of it, he loves his pintos.

The weather will be nice and mild, so I put my plants outside. Well, all of them except the pointsettia. I watered the container plants with some saved water (from the showers we had).

"Don't just work" Ron told me "Have some fun". So, once I finish the dishes, and set the canning jars to cool, I plan to take a nap.

When I was manic, I got some garden edging and marked some tentative garden beds. I am happy to report they all get lots of sun, so will be productive. I'll do the actual construction and soil amendment during my next mania. I'm playing with the idea of growing some moschata squash this year; they are resistant to the bugs that gobble all Houston squash.

I was a little manic for squash, but I didn't buy any. It can wait. We could still have frost for another 2 months, so I have to anyway. Do I ever buy it? No. But if I grow it I will eat a modest amount.

We had a bad freeze this week, but nothing died except the Amaranth. I was getting a little scared of the amaranth. I had it in a very large pot. Completely neglected it, and it kept growing. Now I can till the dead plants under, and plant something in the legume family to help build the soil. My lima bean (I think it is a King of the Garden pole lima) was pretty frostbit, but has plenty of healthy leaves. I'll let it keep going, then. I'm not inclined to rip out a healthy thing I planted. It certainly adds a bright spot of greenery.

Anyway, that's it for now.

Thank God for Santa hats

2011-12-07T19:56:00.000-06:00

For the last couple days, I've been completely exhausted. It's not a depression fatigue, I know those well; no hopelessness, despair, or pain. Just an unrelenting desire to sleep, and some vague aches.

If I had a sore throat or a fever, I would have called it "the flu". If I were vomiting or otherwise, I would have called it "a virus". As it is, only God knows. Nothing specific enough for a doctor visit.

I decided to treat myself as thought I were sick; what would I do? I would get tons of rest; so I did. I would stay warm and take it easy mentally - did that. I would do things I enjoy - didn't really do that, but I got a lot of sleep.

I love a red wool "safety" blanket I bought online a few years ago. I have no idea why a $8, itchy, wool blanket makes me happy, but it does. I put it on the bed. The cat and I love it. I have a huge mountain of blankets, actually. 5 if you count the quilt.

I'm happy; I don't take very good care of myself, and I need to work on that. I did pretty well this week. God values me, I need to value myself. Working on that.

At any rate, when I woke up from a 4- hour nap yesterday, I realized I WAS feeling better. Happily I'm back to my usual energy level - which is pretty low as I am in a depression. I can think about presoaking some beans to make soup tomorrow, and I put up the trash can.

Ha. When I loaded the page I wasn't really going to talk about this at all.

About the only other physical issue of note; I have the metal-mouth again. My mouth, and everything I consume, tastes like rusty nails. Yuck. The peanut butter was REVOLTING. I ended up eating some plain cream cheese so I could take my lithium. That tasted OK, but that horrible flavor persists.

I probably need to try drinking a lot of water, sometimes that will help. Worst case I have sugar free cough drops.

Today we went to work, stocked what we could. I was very upset, I thought someone had stolen our tree. They didn't, they just knocked it down. I duct taped it in place.

We stocked what we could, I took out the bad codes, and threw them out. Sometimes I wish I had a farm animal, like a goat. I could feed it the out of code product. [sigh]

After work, we went to the Christian bookstore. The machine was down. I had done everything I could think to troubleshoot.

See, I was feeling pretty proud after getting our old Royal Vendor up and running. It had crashed, and I got it going again. I was mentally strutting around like a rooster. I can fix anything! Look at me! See what I did!

Now, everyday I ask God (during my God Time at least), to keep me humble. Well, it is very humbling for the Great Fixer to say, sadly, "I can't get it to work". We had to call the expert.

So the second half of "work", today, was "getting the professional out to tell me a part had gotten unplugged". Ouch. Hm. That's a big blow to the old pride. After fixing it, I picked up a few clearance things and we came home. I got a good nap.

When I woke up this morning, it was literally freezing. [shiver] I decided I really didn't want to take a shower, I'd just use the dry shampoo.

I bought it, thinking it might have some good disaster kit applications. However, when I tried it, it had a very strong (objectionable) smell that reminded me of those pink, scented, tampons. I kept smelling it all day. It didn't work, my hair still looked awful. I got white junk all over my hairbrush, and had to wash it.

Dry shampoo is a big failure, at least that brand. I might try the mousse, but I don't have high hopes. I felt so "dirty". Ugh. One day I will figure out, the only surefire way to perfect hair is a hot shower.

Thank God for Santa hats.

Two migraines, a pointsettia, and some cheesy bread

2011-12-05T17:51:00.000-06:00

Boy, I'm tired.

I'm not sure if I'm fighting something off, "just" depressed, properly medicated ("fatigue" is listed on all my medication side effects), or a combination, but I'm exhausted.

Happily, we got some rain this weekend. Before it hit, I got some good garden time. While this week promises to have lows in the 30's, and generally miserable daytime weather, I have a nice warm house. I brought the lettuce planters in for a nice vacation. I have plant lights.

Saturday I was a pretty depressed mess. Dad always used to say "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" and I figured that also applied to my blog. I also had a vicious headache that wanted to be a migraine. My aunt, and my niece, both swear a cold front storm system is always "good" for a migraine.

Yesterday, before the rain, we ordered some pizza and cheesy bread from Dominoes. When we lived in "Cracktown", Dominoes was the only pizza who'd deliver. Of course, we had to meet the deliveryman at the gate, but at least we got pizza. I had seen the ads for the cheesy bread and decided to try it.

Boy, it was good. It was insanely cheesy and so good I hardly ate any pizza (at that meal). Way to go, Dominoes. That was Sunday.

Ron was having a lot of neuropathy troubles with his right foot (we have a call in to his doctor), he didn't get much sleep this weekend and inadvertently kept waking me up last night. We both got a pretty good nap when we got home, after work.

I got my second migraine, this morning. I slept really poorly and finally went ahead and took my Excedrin at 3 AM. If I have a migraine and I take Excedrin, I will go to sleep. If it's a regular headache, I wake up. Sadly, I had to get up at 5 for work. By the time I got up, the worst of the pain had retreated. I was able to go to work and get everything accomplished.

Oh, and on my way into work, I was given a pointsettia plant. It's over next to the lettuce, under the plant lights.

You're getting in the truck

2011-12-04T13:51:00.000-06:00

I've been hearing a lot about the purported "FEMA" camps, online. Message boards and facebook. I thought, I'd better share my perspective.

First, lets take a trip back in time; my early teen years. I love reading biographies, adore them. I really enjoy the "overcoming adversity" ones, so I've read a fair amount on WW2 survivor accounts; The Hiding Place, etc.

Part of my illness includes delusions and some persecution issues. I have always been convinced, on a deep and unreachable, level, that one day THEY will come to get me and put me into some kind of concentration camp. I'd obsess about it.

Happily, my medication pretty much got rid of it. I mentioned this and got some odd comments about "telling the 6 million Jews to take medication". I didn't say that. For one, I think it is incredibly insulting to WW2 Jews, to compare them to yourself today. They endured horrific persecution and discrimination, before being put into camps, starved, worked like slaves, and murdered.

And what? You think - you MIGHT get put into some kind of camp because you have conservative views, read something online, and say you're Christian? Hm. Sounds more like a medication issue.

I don't think I would need to alliterate all the reasons; but a few: "we" are not a cultural group, persecuted for milennia. No laws have been passed forcing us to register, wear yellow stars, restricting our faith, etc. I will also refer you to the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, and the fact I have the right to write this blog and publish it to all readers. I think it's "premature", at best, to start anticipating lockup in camps.

But, you might say, what if they do exist? What if "They" really ARE plotting to lock "us" up?

What are you going to do about it?

Really, what? If someone shows up with an automatic weapon, pointed at you, ready and willing to shoot, and says "Get in the truck", what can you do? You would have to comply, or die.

And, as I mentioned on a message board, anything else would probably be considered terrorism. It's not like you could "shut down" a camp, "expose", it, or whatever. Say you have a gun, somone shows up, several someones show up, with bigger guns. They are pointed at your children. Yeah, sure, you're going to shoot, and kill your loved ones.

No, you're getting in the truck.

Now, that's just the secular side of things.

Let's examine the faith issue. The Bible DOES say, in the last days, some of us will be persecuted for our faith. However, I think that goes more to the Iranian Christian who'd be executed, for converting from Islam. Women raped, tortured, and murdered for their faith in Africa, for refusing to convert. Believers in Indonedia, kidnapped and "married" to Muslim captors.

Again, I think it is incredibly insulting for Americans to compare ourselves to these people, and say we're equal. No, they have suffered far more than we have, and will have a greater reward in Heaven. We like to complain, but haven't had anything even RESEMBLING persecution.

No one is going to lock me up for handing out Bibles. I have First Amendment rights protecting me. Even if they did outlaw Bible distribution, I'd find a way to do it. I'd share Jesus with everyone I met (I hope I do that now), and be a light in the darkness.... assuming that moment arrives before the rapture (which I doubt).

In China, believers are frequently imprisoned and "deprogrammed" - torture, sleep deprivation, and worse. And where, I ask, is this happening in America? That's right - NOWHERE.

So shut up already. You're an embarrassment, and most likely in need of medication.

The thought of tomorrow

2011-12-02T21:02:00.000-06:00

If you're a regular reader, you might remember a post I made a while back.

In the post, I displayed two images. One was a small white mouse. Ew. Get it away from me. That's how a lot of people interact with depression. It is a yucky, nasty, thing. They are glad to see the last of it.

For me, [pardon me while I get out the violin], my depression is far more relatable to the second image; a massive, nasty, vicious BEAST that clearly wanted to eat you for dinner. In another post, I described my depression as "roaring in the basement". Sometimes, managing my depression is a lot like walking past a cage containing a vicious animal.

I got bit. Oh, I feel like I'm crawling off to hide, bleeding profusely; in terrible pain. Trying desperately to distract myself as I face the fact that, no, I don't have the "juice" to take a shower tonight.

I tell myself that's OK. I don't have to be perfect. I don't have to do it all. I don't have to try. Sometimes all I will do is stand, endure, and survive. That's wonderful.

I tell myself God gave me this illness; and He had a reason. It makes me depend on Him. I have to take it all to Him when I'm like this. Just the thought of "tomorrow" sometimes, is such a horrifying concept I can't allow the thought.

God doesn't require perfection; He wants my faith. He wants my trust. I can give Him that; and sometimes that's all I can give. He gives me "The Grace to Deal" - which I so often request, and thank Him for.

I try to be a grateful person. I have so many wonderful things in my life; in fact, sometimes I'm embarrassed to talk about them. I work part time. Very few people can do that. I have a fantastic little house; I adore it. I love my yard, my garden. I love the natural sunlight. I love the sound the trees make when the wind picks up and it's about to rain. I love to squash around in the soggy soil after a good downpour, checking on my plants. I love my collards. They have endured drought, floods, heat waves, snow, ice storms, hurricanes, and they just keep going. I hope I have half the endurance of my collards.

I remind myself, the same God who created my illness also created my medication; my AFFORDABLE medication. He also created my doctor and pharmacist. He created many excellent resources; people who would love to help me manage my illness.

I'm glad I work; because I need to work. I need to stay busy. I need to know, I have to get up at 5 AM tomorrow to get ready for work. That I'm needed to troubleshoot and stock vending machines, and help Ron do the same.

Sometimes, the thought of tomorrow is the only thing that keeps me going.

Side-effected... Video Blog

2011-12-02T18:37:00.000-06:00

Not just whining about side effects (brain fog), talking about my garden and faith, too.

Metal Can

2011-11-30T18:17:00.000-06:00

Huh. The first time I tried to come over here naughty modem wouldn't let me.

For those upset: I have to do what I feel is the right thing. My whole "life" here on Earth is just a hiccup when you look at eternity.

God loves me regardless of my actions, but I want those actions to be the ones He wants me to do. I have undertaken some serious prayer, Bible study, a short soda fast, etc. God wants me with Ron.

I think the fact that I have supportive people, aware of the situation, helps keep Ron focused on what's important. The other day, we had a talk about the cat. I told him the cat loves his current life, and regardless of how we split the cat would have suffered, too. And that's just the cat.

Onto the rest of my life. Last night, I noticed the messy neighbors had bagged up two huge bags full of mixed dry leaves. The leaves were in clear bags, sitting in the driveway.

It's amusing, I am very territorial about "my" property, and I wanted NOTHING more than to run over and snatch the bags out of their driveway. But, that's THEIR property. The law says anything AT THE CURB is free for the taking.

It WASN'T at the curb. So, I kept walking by, licking my lips over the huge bags of leaves. I got to thinking; for milennia, the homeowner or peasant would have carefully gathered the leaves, composted them, and spread them on the fields. Or, just left the leaves where they fell to provide nourishment for the tree and understory plants. This went on for millennia. However the word is spelled.

It's only been the last 100 years or so, that plant wastes were seen as "dirty", akin to sewage, and something to be removed and disposed. Along came the internal combustion engine; the plastic garbage bag, weekly "trash" pickups, and all the organic plant waste went to the dump.

So, to "normal" people, my hunger for organic matter, for my garden, appears very odd. How do I know this?

Well, this morning, they FINALLY put both bags at the curb. I was chomping at the bit, waiting for her to leave so I could grab both bags. Unfortunately, Metrolift got there first.

AGH. I could only see one way to get what I wanted. "Excuse me, ma'am? Can I have the leaves for my garden?" I had to restate it a few times, and I got a very baffled look "You want my trash?" it said. Yes, please, for my garden. She consented and I snatched them, dragging them off to my compost pile as the driver gaped. The woman got into her car and left, still staring at me.

Oh, well, I got my leaves. I was happy. Eventually I imagine plant wastes will be seen as valuable future fertility for a thriving garden, but for now I seem demented. I get it. I'm OK with a label. I was very polite. When I have a nice harvest of something, I'll give her some. Probably sugar snap peas. They are delicious and prolific.

It was an interesting start to the day. We had good rides all day, like we did Monday. It's great, but I keep wondering when it will end.

We got to work, did the pull, did the deposit, I got paid. Ron sold some change. We have enough to buy a modest amount of inventory tomorrow; makes me happy.

Ron says since we're working tomorrow, we have Friday off. The other vendor's wife is really sick, so we won't be seeing them on Friday anyway.

He says he'll give me a ride to Home Depot if I want; I'm considering it. I want to get a metal can for my birdseed.

Naughty the modem

2011-11-29T18:22:00.000-06:00

My modem is acting up, and I had a hell of a time getting online today.

Ha! You should have seen my trying to download my new Theocracy album last night - it took forever, and I ended up praying, literally, over the download.

So, I will come off as harried no doubt and it's because I have to burp it all out quickly before NAUGHTY the modem goes down again. [sigh] I am getting a new modem for Christmas, looks like. Ron likes to buy me "things" now and then, and it drives him nuts when I say I can't think of anything.

So, back home. Not dead. Ron is still drinking, but not being verbabally abusive and letting me sleep. The neighbor's dog is barking a lot because someone dumped a pit bull in the neighborhood and the dogcatcher can't get it. It goes sniffing around the yard, the dog barks wildly, and it wanders off, only to come back. A little aggravating for me.

I am rearranging the bedroom, the way I had the bed was causing some traffic issues. On the north wall of the house, is the soccer family's trash can, and my zero property line. I literally have the trash cans right outside my bedroom.

On the south wall, I have the door to the bathroom, and the door to the bedroom. Nothing can go there, really.

On the west wall, we have the closet, a regular closet about 10 feet long, not walk in. I took the doors off and put my dresser in the closet, it gives me a lot more room.

The east wall has the sliding glass door. I am very limited, obviously, and the bed HAS to go on the north wall. However, instead of running it north-south, I ran it east-west. It is a much better flow for traffic going out the backdoor, and I can see my garden while lying in bed. I'm happy. Ron loves it. Yay, me.

The daytime weather has been lovely, sunny and delightful. I've had some fun out in the garden. I planted most of my potatoes today. I have two types of fingerlings I bought at the grocery store, and some Yukon Golds I saved from my first harvest. They are all sprouting, all the sprouted ones of a good size got planted. I have a few marble-to-ping pong sizes I plan to tuck into another garden bed, somewhere. I also need to plant my onions, but intend for most of them to go into a nice deep planter. I always like to put some around the collards, they are beneficial to each other.

Ron pretty much is awake at night, sleeping during the day. I don't want anyone losing sleep. I have a door that locks, if I chose to do so. I also have a bug-out/hospital bag with important papers and changes of clothing. Any decent disaster prepper has a bug out bag.

I'm liking the bedroom. It is a lot more spacious now. I made sure the cat kept his "bed", which is a rolling storage cube. I knew "Bubba" had some garden items (seaweed concentrate and peat pots) in his box, and was thrilled to discover blood meal, too.

Blood meal is dried blood. Plants love it. Especially leafy green ones. Sprinkled on the soil, it feeds the soil organisms which then feed the plant. It also scares herbivore nibblers, if you have a problem. It comes as a powder, in a bag. I put it in my fertilizer bucket, along with the cottonseed meal (my favorite fertilizer), kelp meal (second favorite), and other goodies. I need to get a metal container and put the fertilizers in that, then I can put it out in the garden.

Before anyone says it is "gross". Do you eat meat? If you do, the blood comes out in processing. Isn't it better to use the WHOLE animal? I believe it is. I also use bone meal, too.

I have a great book by Dr Bob. He is a Houston gardening expert. Dr Bob says "critters love to eat organic fertilizer, store in a metal trash can" - I'm going to take that advice.

Side effects really kicked my butt today; I stayed home. It will be nice all week so I don't feel I missed anything important.

I'm keeping up with my God Time, don't want to screw myself. I miss it when I don't get it.

I get paid soon. Work is pretty slow, but Ron said I can get the inventory I need. Good. I hate empty coils in the snack machine.

That's it for now. Not sure when the modem will let me back online but I'm doing OK.

2011-11-29T16:51:00.001-06:00

Modem dead. I'm OK.

Run

2011-11-26T15:28:00.000-06:00

I have been sharing some of my trials with Ron online, and it is interesting to see the perspectives.

Most people tell me to leave him, and if I were unsaved, I would, and probably do some damage on my way out. A guy I knew, who is interested, actually tried to tell me (years ago) I could get away with killing Ron because I am mentally ill!
I found that very alarming, that he really thought I would consider that for even an instant.

God WILL rebuke Ron; I have NO doubt. The issue here is to keep my naturally hurt feelings, and wounded pride from transforming into a haughty, judgemental, spirit. That won't please God.

My job, as I see it, is to take my hurt feelings and shame to God, and to let God console me. To leave it at "Lord, rebuke him". The God who created the universe can certainly avenge my hurt feelings, anger, and indignity.

My job, as I see it, is to ask God what He wants me to do, and go to it, trusting He will give me what's required to do my job. I am well aware my blog is crosslinked to a message board. [waving at Rabble Rousers] I'm glad I can provide some entertainment and fodder for discussions. I am aware you probably think I have drunk the koolaid, gone around the corner, and have the spine of a jellyfish; you probably see my "faith" as the frosting on a very broken cookie.

See, I think the difference between me and an "average" person: the average person is pretty much about pleasing themself. What will be the best choice for me? What is the best job for me? He isn't treating me right. I need to get out of here; and does so.

I have a very different perspective: What will make God happy? A good example; getting another job. I keep getting a huge NO from God on that. I don't understand why, but my job is obeying God. I have enough for my needs.

Do I think Ron speaks for God? Absolutely not! [laughing] No way. I go on my own internal leadings, prayer, and Bible study. I take my medication as directed because I get a lot of noise in my head, otherwise.

I think the problem is that a lot of people view my current issues as between me and Ron. They aren't. Ron's an adjunct. The problem is between me and God. I am being treated shamefully. I take it to God. God lets me know He has my back, and God WILL repay Ron for what he has done. My job is to honor my commitment, even if Ron doesn't honor his. "Love, honor, and cherish", until Ron asks for a divorce or God makes it clear.

The pastor who married us said, as he prayed over the Bible verse, God led him to Hebrews 12:1-3 (HCSB)

1 Therefore since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily ensnares us, and run with endurance the race that lies before us, 2 keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that lay before Him endured a cross and despised the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of God's throne.

Fatherly Discipline

3 For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, so that you won't grow weary and lose heart.

Run.
Don't lose heart.
Keep my eyes on Jesus.
HE was mocked and shamed, too.
Run to Him.

Hebrews 10:30 says "Vengence is mine, I will repay, says the Lord". He will.

The week in review

2011-11-26T14:37:00.000-06:00

Well, one way or another I HAD to go back home.

If I was leaving Ron, I'd have to get my stuff. All I took was a handful of clothes and some bedding. [It's very comforting to sleep on MY pillows (a few of them), and under the blanket I made, and I slept quite well on my aunt's floor.]

If I was going back, well, I had to go back, didn't I?

I doubt I can narrate this properly without sounding as though I need a severe medication adjustment, looking like a complete nit masochist, or even more severely brain-damaged than I am. A brief timeline ought to suffice:

Sunday night: All the drama, I leave the house and go grab some floor at my aunt's house. Ron trashes my room before, and after, I leave.

Monday: Ron is still very beligerent, unrepentant, and has decided that I am the source of everything bad in his life. He wants a divorce. He calls adult protective services, tries to resign the business, and doesn't go to work, leaving the other vendor to get his deliveries. I read "The Nuclear Catastrophe" - a very good post-apocalyptic novel. My aunt leaves to care for her son, who's just had orthopedic surgery. My uncle takes me back home Monday night, if for no other reason than to get a few items and see how badly Ron's trashed my room. Answer: pretty bad. Space heater thrown across room. Bag of ant bait - same (I had it near the back door) - while the bag opened up it was in another bag and did not spill. I evacuate a tray of seedlings and a tray of sprouting seed potatoes. Clothing thrown everywhere, etc. It took me a couple of days to find my white noise machine. Ron makes another trip to the liquor store, buying wine.

Tuesday: Very upset. I decide I need to seriously focus on finding God's will. I do a Dr Pepper fast. Anyone who has met me knows I am addicted to my Diet Dr Peppers - I am always drinking one. I can't fast from food or drink due to my medication, but I can drink water for a day instead. Did that. Also started reading 'The Stand". I read about 86% of it, per my Kindle, before I came home. I decide, if Ron wants a divorce, he can have it. Ron decides, on his own, maybe I'm not so terrible. I get a bizarre phone call regarding our upcoming soda delivery. He wants me to come back. It is apparent I can't stay on my aunt's floor forever anyway. Besides, I conclude, if we do split I will have to go back home and start sorting through my stuff. I resolve to go back, if for no other reason than that - what would I want if Ron and I split?

Wednesday: Ron has to go to work by himself. Boy, does he miss me. My uncle is out of town, attending a funeral for his sister-in-law's mother. I'm at my aunt's house, with my cousin, and another cousin's daughter. Ron wonders if I am coming home.

Thursday: My aunt is back and town, and my uncle. I go back. Boy, my room is trashed. I still can't find my MP3 player. Pretty pissed about that. Start cleaning up and sleep in my own bed. Ron avoids me. I let him stew. My garden looks great, all the Sugar Snap Peas are up, and the fava beans. We got enough rain while I was gone to keep the plants happy.

Friday: Up early, go to work. It was apparent, while working, that I could manage quite well without Ron. I fixed a couple of naughty vending machines with God's help. One of the microwaves is dead, but they aren't "ours" anyway. I stocked everything I could, decorated the machines, made Ron wear the elf hat, and put on my "Merry Christmas" Santa Hat. The customers like it.

Today: Up early, went to Walmart. Walmart was dead. Couldn't make my deposit, forgot about that. Got some essentials, and some more decorations for the vending machines. Rain, and lots of it, thank God. We really need some rain. Catching up on laundry, watching disaster movies.

That's it for this week.

It would be really easy to tear myself up with worry about everything in the world. I'm not going to allow myself to do that.

I'm battling a nasty depression, so dealing with all that and the fatigue that comes with a properly medicated depression. I haven't even taken my shower yet. Just no energy; I'll drag myself in there but it feels a lot harder than it is.

I'll just hang in there.

Regarding Ron: I believe God will convict him. If he gets awful again I'll leave (not my aunt though), and stay gone until he can act like a human being.

Why did you leave?

2011-11-22T07:51:00.000-06:00

You know, I'm not good with healthy boundaries in a relationship. As I type "And I was willing to go back last night, as long as Ron could commit to: 1. No verbal abuse and 2. Letting me sleep." you are probably screaming in frustration and wanting to slap me.

Well, he didn't want me home.

Yeah, some demons in Ron's head telling him I'm so much better without him, he has to throw his life away to "get rid of me". He is furious I voicemailed his abusive rantings to my entire family.

It has always been my opinion, that I shouldn't say anything I wouldn't want everyone to hear. IE - gossip. IE - abusive comments. "You are a piece of waste and I wish you would die" - I wouldn't say that in front of anyone - but if I did I would expect it would get around, you know?

I wouldn't think my "victim" would just swallow it and say "Sir, yessir". Which, unfortunately, I did for a very long time. Ron used to harangue me for hours, calling me horrible names, and I would just sob and beg for forgiveness. It makes me ill to think about it now. He would throw me out after one of these sessions, menacing me physically, and I would call him begging him to let me come home.

Unfortunately, that did set a precedent for him. While he hasn't done that since the 90's, I noticed all abuse stopped right quick when the apartment was in my name, and I was paying the bills.

He really thinks it is OK, when he feels "provoked", to just wage war on me. I mean, complete and utter war. I was in the SHOWER, that night, and he was screaming at me "That's right, wash up, you filthy b!itch" I wasn't even talking to him - it was clear he wasn't going to hear it and responding would just "feed" him.

He has left a series of extremely abusive messages for me (I didn't have to listen to know), my aunt, and my uncle. He accused them of "meddling" and worse. They're not exactly reciting it, but that's what I've gathered.

I ignored the voicemails, I told him if he had something to say he would have to say it directly. He likes to leave hateful, hit-and-run, voicemails.

He called me twice, once to tell me he was resigning the program (leaving both of us unemployed - he has done this on many occasions - left a dramatic message for the boss about wanting to resign, then changing his mind. It's gotten to the point where the boss doesn't even call him back). Still, threatening my security like that is a very cheap, nasty, shot.

The second time he asked me what he did. I said, you didn't remember? He said no. I said, well, you called the police, they sent the mental health crisis team, and they told you to stop drinking. He got very angry and said it didn't happen this way, *I* had commited the egregious offense of moving (my) keys. I told him, the keys I moved were MY keys. You have your own keys to everything, including the backdoor, and if you were too drunk to find them that's your problem, not mine. I didn't want you in and out the back door all night anyway, leaving the blinds open and waking me up.

He then asked me why I left. I was so shocked, and so furious, I hung up.

He doesn't understand. And you know, that scares me, more than anything. Ron really doesn't understand, appropriate behavior on a relationship. He doesn't understand it's WRONG to verbally abuse your wife. It isn't fair to threaten her with violence, no matter what the "provocation", it's torture to keep her up all night screaming profanities, it's wrong to call the police because you are drunk and angry. It's wrong to scream at the police, cursing them and calling them names. He thinks that is all fine, and I should have just gone to bed. Because, after all, it was my fault.

I called him, it went to voicemail (he was probably telling himself I was going to be SO MAD and scream at him - he really wants me to sink to his level of mindless rage and screaming, so he can judge me) and very calmly said: I am answering your question because I truly believe you don't understand why I left. If, the fact that you were verbally abusing me, screaming constantly, refusing to let me sleep, calling me horrible names, threatening to break things (after I left, he trashed my bedroom twice), threatening VIOLENCE, isn't reason enough: the police told me to leave (it was strongly implied). I called my aunt and uncle, and let them listen to you screaming. They told me to leave, AND came and got me. I called my sister and let her listen to you screaming. She told me to leave. If that wasn't enough, I also called Mom and Dad - they got to hear you screaming at me and THEY told me to leave. So, when everyone I consult is telling me to leave, I'm going to leave! So, hopefully you understand now.

He apparently talked to my uncle a few times yesterday, and my uncle said "He got a little clearer as the day went on and he sobered up." He said he HAD to see my uncle in person, and my uncle brought me along, hoping, I think, we could make up. Ron had said he didn't want me to "touch" him - I think trying to play the victim role. He does look pretty tragic - and there's that horrible, scary, crazy woman who hates him (rolleyes). From an emotional abuse standpoint, he hit the gold mine when I got diagnosed bipolar - he can tell everyone I'm crazy and abusive.

Huh. The only one I'm abusing is ME!

Anyway, I went with my uncle. I needed some more clothes, and I was worried about my potatoes. Yes. My seed potatoes, sprouting in the bedroom. I didn't want Ron to kill them. I told my uncle: either he is going to make a dramatic display of pouring out the wine (see late August, this year), or point out an "egregious housekeeping sin" that warranted all the physical abuse.

Sure enough, Ron proudly pointed out my "messy" (trashed) bedroom. My uncle realized Ron had trashed it after we left, because he had ripped a power strip out of the wall, etc. He had thrown a clean basket of laundry all over the floor and taken things off a table and thrown them on a floor, he had even thrown a space heater, and my scale was in the bathtub. Or his scale, they look alike (his talks). Anyway, my uncle said that backfired, and he got a really good glimpse of Ron's darkside.

I did retort that the room looked bad, because Ron had chosen to trash it. Ron got all smirky and I was sorry I had said anything. He wanted to bait me. Ugh.

Then he solemnly staggered up to the sink and pointed out a few dirty dishes. "No one can live like this" Ron said somberly. "No one, I have to get rid of her".

Ron's great idea is to resign the business, default on the mortgage, go into foreclosure (mortgage is all Ron), and go into some kind of subsidized independent living arrangement. He went outside and talked to my uncle for a while, while I tenderly gathered my potatoes (OK). I figured they probably wouldn't make it another night, at the rate Ron was going.

As we left, my uncle stated that Ron was drunk, again. I told him Ron's "Never before noon" rule about drinking; however Ron fails to understand that drinking until 6 AM, passing out until noon, and then drinking again is probably "a problem".

Sad, pointless, and stupid. I was sorry I'd gone - except for the potatoes. I did grab my emergency fund, some bedding, etc. I saw the cat, gave him a hug, and a treat - I brought a can of his favorite treat, and fed it, while Ron was ranting at my uncle. I'm so glad I don't have a human child.

So, I'm sleeping on the floor, in my aunt's house. They are very nice about it. I'm sharing the house with my aunt, uncle, cousin, and my cousin's daughter. A little crowded, but like I told my uncle last night - as he apologized for my sleeping arrangement: No one's going to come in here and scream at me all night, and throw my stuff around.

He laughed and said he could promise that, for sure.

2011-11-21T07:38:00.000-06:00

As Ron stood out front, yelling "You stupid f-ing b@stard!" at the departing police officers, I realized NO neighbor in the subdivision would ever allow a child in my yard. The loud, drunken, "prayer" (mainly profanities, about me, directed at "God"), in the backyard, the drama, the police, the shouting... yeah. No kids in my yard.

So, no matter what, I don't have to worry about THAT anymore. It was actually pretty funny. Ron is a very proud man; remember this.

Over a week ago, I went to the store. I asked Ron if he wanted anything, he said no. I got him a little bag of chips anyway, because he has a habit of changing his mind. After I finished shopping, I offered him the chips. He got mad "I SAID no! I don't want them!" I said OK. Later on, while eating my snack, I offered them again, and he emphatically said NO.

So, days later, after Ron had gotten his own bag of Fritos at the grocery store, I ate the other chips. I paid for them, I was hungry, and I didn't want to eat our inventory instead. No big deal.

Nope. Yesterday Ron, after "some" wine, demanded the chips. I said I had eaten them, because he didn't want them. Of course Ron had a different version. One in which he pleaded with me to save them, and I selfishly ate them anyway.

Ensue tirade. It was also a great excuse to "comfort" himself with more booze, and he was pouring one glass after another. He went off in his room for a while and I called my sister. We had a good talk. Ron went out back while I was talking to her and I accidentally locked the back door. He banged on the door and I let him in. He was furious - how dare I lock him out, and he had just decided to forgive me for the chips, but that was over! I was a failure, I had locked him out AND stolen his chips (this is where the "verbal" started). He went in and out, in and out, of the back door.

I realized he was 1. Going to leave my backdoor unlocked, and it's in my bedroom. 2. Leave the blinds open, giving me no privacy, and 3. Keep me up all night staggering in and out. I also realized Ron wants me to react to the verbal abuse, but I didn't have to talk. So I didn't, even when he was shouting profanities at me. Jesus did the same thing before he was crucified.

Normally, I hang MY keys on a hook, inside my bedroom door. I decided I had better reclaim MY keys. I took them off the hook and put them in my backpack. If Ron really wanted to use the back door, I reasoned, he could use his key. He has his own.

If you thought the chips were bad, you should have seen it. In his mind, the chips, accidental lock-out, and the loss of the keys snowballed into a horrendous, unforgivable, offense. I had to be punished.

"I tried to protect you" he slurred sadly as he staggered to his room "But I won't anymore. You're going to have to go to jail." He called the police, told them I was bipolar [strongly implied, dangerously], had locked him in the yard, and he wanted back in. He said all this while sitting in the house.

In Houston, we have a lovely mental health team, police officers. In a case like mine, they dispatch the special officers who have a strong grasp of mental illness, and how to deal with it. So, these poor bastards showed up.

Ron is sitting on the front porch. He had decided he wanted me locked up for a week, long enough to teach me a lesson without hurting the business.

The officers showed up. See, like I said, Ron is a proud man - and "shaming" is a typical emotional abuse trick. I decided not to react. I greeted the officers cheerfully and introduced Ron as an alcoholic.

"No, I'm not! You BISH!" He lunged out of his chair at me. The male officer grabbed him, and I went into the house.

The female officer followed me (she was wearing the mental health team logo jacket) and I just sat in my chair. I didn't say much as Ron raved at the officer, and staggered all over. She asked me about his drinking problem, had he ever sought help, I said, no, he won't admit he has a problem. I was just calm and resigned, so much for "crazy".

The male officer, properly concluded there wasn't a problem, and prepared to leave. Ron started cursing at them. The female officer said "Sir, YOU HAVE A DRINKING PROBLEM. YOU NEED TO GET HELP."

"Shut up, bitch" Ron replied.

When he realized they were leaving, and I wasn't going to be locked up for my "offenses", he followed them out to the car. I could hear the profanities he shouted, as I sat on my bed, in my bedroom. With the doors shut. Like I said, no kids in THIS yard anymore. All the neighbors got a really good show.

Ron started up again with the verbal abuse, so I called Mom & Dad, let them get an earful on the voicemail. I did the same with my aunt, and then concluded, after a lot of threats, that it would be better to leave. It wasn't the "I'm going to fix you, bitch", it was farther along than that, but you get the general idea. Threats. And, while I could duck him while awake, sadly, he would be able to find me while asleep.

I think it is safe to conclude, that while family may understand the GENERAL concept of "verbal abuse", letting them actually hear it is another matter entirely. Mom was livid, my aunt and uncle horrified. They came to get me.

While they drove, Ron called the police, again, and they sent out another officer who also concluded that Ron was just a very angry drunk. Ron was just raving at everyone, God, me, the officers, my aunt and uncle. He even called me aunt at 10 PM and tried to get her to wake my uncle up.

And, even though I had to sleep on the floor last night, no one here has called me a bitch. [sigh] So goes my life.

I am hoping Mr Proud remembers enough of this today, to realize he has a problem and needs some help. I don't know, it could go either way. I think, in his eyes, my "offenses" completely justify all of HIS subsequent behavior. I could see that.

He's lucky they didn't arrest him.

Maybe it won't matter, tomorrow

2011-11-20T15:13:00.000-06:00

It's funny. I finally "got over" the kid ripping the board off the fence to spy on us, and Ron's kept talking about it today.

If the kid does it again, I'll take Ron over to talk to the father. I'm sure that will do it. Ron really hates it when people stare at him.

I'm a little hivey today. Spell check didn't like that. Not bad, but a little itchy. I'm going easy on the wheat, this week.

I got up pretty early, worked in the garden for a bit, and noted my fava beans, and sugar snap peas, are sprouting. I have never eaten a fava bean in my life. Apparently I can eat them as a green bean, as a cooked shell bean, or as a dry bean.

Sugar Snaps, I know, are easily eaten raw, in the garden. Speaking of, the only real garden problem I encountered - fire ants. Boy, my left foot was pretty unhappy. I poisoned them, thinking all the while, this is why I don't want kids in my yard. I don't care if trespassers get bit, but I don't want them eating the poison.

I just had a thought for a great no-tresspassing sign: This yard protected by FIRE ANTS! It would feature a menacing fire ant underneath. I like it. Everyone dreads and fears fire ants.

I work on reminding myself, if life were perfect, I'd never want to be raptured. If I didn't have all the problems, I probably wouldn't be so focused on serving God. If I had a perfect everything, I would live for it, and not Him.

Just a theory; I doubt I'll ever get to try it out!

Things have been pretty quiet today. A few "boom boom" cars going down the street, but nothing major. Ron said, apparently, there was some noise last night. I'm not sure how our subdivision rates, size-wise, and for obvious reasons I can't give out a lot of identifying details, but it's not "dinky". When you have a lot of people living together, you'll have conflict, noise, etc.

Most of the time, I feel I am pretty easygoing when properly medicated.

My mood has just been crap the last couple days. Really brooding a lot (ruminating and perseverating), having a hard time "letting things go", etc. I have been begging God for help, the last few days.

And I think that's why He allowed me to have this illness; to keep my focus on Him. I can't ever take my eyes off Him for long, the illness rears up, tries to buck me, and I'm hanging onto the "reins", screaming for help.

I'm pretty pleased; I did manage to get a lot of gardening accomplished during my last mania, and a fair amount of housework. I only bought the things I needed and had plenty left in my pocket the day I got paid. I can't ask for better!

I am having a little bit of an issue with that guy at work. I think I will tell him directly. "I hope it is clear to you, and everyone here, that I am completely committed to my husband. I'm starting to think it is a bad idea to 'be friends' with someone of the opposite sex unless they are also, happily, married." Then I worry it might sound like *I* am fighting feelings. Trust me, I'm not. The guy is a hardcore alcoholic.

Agh. Then I want to go bash my head into a wall. I hate subtext. I do poorly. But it is apparent to me, and Ron, there is a subtext and I need to address it with clarity.

That's where I go "fall" on God, asking Him to lead/guide me on what to say and how to say it. Maybe Ron could say.... no.. I think I will have to say it myself.

Or maybe it won't matter tomorrow. I think that should be my new motto: Maybe it won't matter tomorrow.

Tomorrow, other than work, my only big plans - taking a Collard plant, in a pot, to a happily married co-worker. I think they will enjoy it and treat it properly. It's so much fun to grow your own food.

When I lived in a 3rd floor apartment with a balcony, it got a little sun every day - maybe an hour or so direct sun (sort of like my garden bed 6). Like Garden Bed 6, I planted a lot of leafy green things. They always did very well and I ate a lot of fresh, organic, salads, grown a good three floors off the ground. It was impossible to find anything organic in that neighborhood.

And even if I lived with no sun, I have a sprouter. You can grow a lot of fresh greens in a sprouter. I have a fancier one, bought on clearance, with a couple of trays, but a simple jar could do the trick. You can google it, easy to do.

I might even get some seed at the feed store for it. Right now it's in a cabinet, because I have fresh green things in the yard. Well, mostly green.

I do have 2 purple kale, and a frilly purplish one sprouting in my seedling flat.

2011-11-19T17:38:00.000-06:00

Not so cranky today.

I don't know why kids want to tear boards off my fence (the board is completely off the fence today, good thing I propped up my wood), but that's between them, their parents, and God. Had a hard time NOT thinking about "home invaders" etc... it's called perseverating and ruminating. Ugh. I just want to bang my head into a wall, sometimes, to make it stop. Then I take it to God "Help me take my thoughts captive, put Your love in my heart" etc.

Signs, of depression. On the one hand I want to boo it away, but on the other, I can only be manic for so long. It is easy to see why some of us become addicts; it would be nice to adjust the volume level on the emotions!

But, I have to turn it over to God, leave it in His hands, and trust He made me this way for a useful purpose. I found it fascinating... I have 2 different "Read the Bible in a Year" plans, a couple collections of daily Bible verses by subject (about 5-10 verses a day on humility or whatever), a very old devotional by Mary Tileston (from my Grandmother), a Corrie Ten Boom devotional (also from Grandma), a mental health devotional from my sister (love you Sue!), a yearly prayer guide to every country on the planet, and 2 other devotionals.

I take my faith life very seriously, and endeavor to read it all daily. Not: I'm so holy. More: everything I read today was about "the tongue". Watch your words, etc. Funny, I mean, literally everything had that. It doesn't happen often, a coincidence like that, but when it does I sit up and take notice.

So: I slept great last night. I told Ron, whatever you say about Barky, he was good last night. He agreed. I also told him, if some question mark is wandering around, I'd rather the dog bark. He agreed.

Whoo. Hot flash.

Which is funny. GIRL TALK AHEAD: my cycle has arrived... several days late, as it has pretty consistently this year. I am fine with that - my only concern being weight loss. I hear it is much "harder" after complete menopause. END GIRL TALK I'm sure my bones are fine. I do plenty of weight bearing activity, eat a lot of protien, and take mineral supplements. I take a Vitamin E supplement for my heart and I exercise regularly.

We got up very early, and went to Foodtown. They have good prices on bottled soda, and are fine with modest purchases for work. We don't hassle with the sales tax, we just double pay. I'm sure the State can use it.

Went to work, worked hard, did it all. A guy at work has a pretty serious interest in me. Ron is commenting on it, too. I thought it was great how he handled it, the guy kept following me around at work, trying to talk to me, and Ron finally turned his wheelchair towards him and said "Isn't your break over?" I think the guy was mildly offended.

Ron said, "At least it is OPEN interest" - a change from last year. I just find it a little odd for a single man to be interested in a married woman; and I can say I am happily married. Even if I wasn't, I made vows.

Even if I were immoral, he drinks. That is a deal killer for me. And he breeds pit bulls - which terrify me. I think I'll let Ron interact with him.

He kept asking us what we were doing for Thanksgiving, and I told him the truth: Ron's having a TV dinner, and I'm having a pot pie. One of my favorite passages in Proverbs: Better Vegetables where there is love, than the finest meat where there is hatred.

I thank God every day I'm alive. I have a lot to be thankful for.

Today, for instance, and after work - Ron was very appreciative. I just eat that up. I guess one of my love langauges would be "words", in addition to "quality time".

"Kids need a yard" but not mine

2011-11-18T19:00:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, I spent a lot of time building up the perfect compost pile. I took everything off, stirred up the compost at the bottom, "stole" some for my garden, and layered it back into the bin. Yard waste, layer of dirt, yard waste, layer of compost, yard waste, you get the idea.

It took hours but I was glad I did it. I also made sure it was nice and moist to keep out little visitors. I ALSO, on top of that, planted mints all around the bin. I accidentally stepped on one, twice. I was so glad it was mint. A less vigorous plant would have died. I put up some fencing so that won't happen again. Today, they seem quite happy with their new home.

Speaking of home, I had some excitement. You may recall the problem I had with the kids next door running wild in my yard during a party. The older boy was making odd comments about us trying to "trick" him. Today, the little boy who kept coming over, was trying to pull a board off the fence and watch us. He did this several times. Every time I "caught" him, he'd run off; so he knows it's "wrong".

Unfortunately, I don't speak Spanish and they haven't taught him English. I won't go down that path. I guess my school taxes will pay for that education.

I got a large board from the "dog" pile, compiled last year when I was trying to keep out the "Barkappotamous". I had some pretty clever arrangements.

Anyway, I put it over the broken board, and the little boy came back, "tried" to look in through the hole, then moved down and "tried' to look through a gap in the fence. I said the usual, "Stop that" stuff, that's when I figured out he didn't understand. I said, loudly "Do I have to tell your parents about this?" and nothing, the older kids and his mother were in the yard. I went over and rang their doorbell. Nothing.

So, I wrote a note and put it on their door, for the father. They are more traditional in "Mother stays home and does child care, the father goes to work and does discipline". The problem is that they have a very small yard. The two older kids play with each other, and their cousin. They are at least 5 years older than the little boy. He has a little sister, still in diapers, who was being pushed in a swing and generally fussed over (until the next baby, in a few months).

I get it. The little boy feels lonely. He is ignored. I think, in the birth order stuff (if you believe it) he is an "only child" due to the large age gap. However, that doesn't mean you can turn my yard into your playground. In the note I left for the father, I mentioned today's activity, and then added that no children were allowed in my yard from now on. I said it was "an insurance" issue - and it is. But it's mainly the fact that the kids aren't respectful of my property. They slam the gate. They look in my windows. They scream and yell. They run around in my garden. They make bizzare comments like 'They built the gate like that to trick you (into thinking we have a dog)"???

So, I told him, if someone loses a ball, ONE adult can come and get it.   Not written: I am done with these huge packs of screaming brats using my yard as a playground.

It seems to me, if you want a lot of children, you should automatically get a larger yard. You don't get a small yard, turn part of it into a back porch, turn another part into a shed, and give the kids a small "run". Not if, like many mothers, their mother is going to send a large group of highly energetic kids outside to play.   Sad but true, our subdivision HAS a playground, and more than one neatly mowed vacant lot.

Even the father is done with "kicking the soccer ball into the fence" - they broke several boards off his fence. I noticed they didn't do that today, and one child yelled at another who did so. The other game, "Throw the soccer ball on the roof" didn't work very well either.

Ron and I were out there, obviously, and it was apparent they did know we were there. The loud slamming noises were absent, and the shouting was reduced.

So, I said, your kid is doing this, and has also been in my yard, unsupervised, on more than one occasion. For insurance reasons, no children are allowed in my yard. Thank you. I said it a lot nicer than that, did a couple of versions, tore up the bad ones, and only left the note that met Ron's approval.

I'm sure he'll come over to discuss it, and I'll tell him, if he doesn't know already, a large pit bull is living on his back fence, and is always sniffing at that fence. If his kid pulls a board off of THAT fence, he could have some big trouble. If a pit bull dog got into the yard with 2 toddlers, a baby, and 3 older children... that could be a disaster.

I'm sure he'll take care of it; Ron and I will start locking the gate. I've invested a lot of time and energy into my garden and I don't need the drama. The kids want our yard, but it's not their playground, and I won't feel sorry. A local housing company had a campaign "Kids need a yard" and I agree.   He already has the kids doubled up in the bedrooms.

That is one thing I didn't really expect. It appears to me, that, as a homeowner, neighbors, and their kids in particular, have a very hard time understanding property lines and boundaries. In apartment living, your apartment/your balcony. I only once had a problem with that.

We lived in the third floor. Each unit had a washer-dryer hookup and no laundry room. I had never heard of such a thing. It was a dreaful area, too. They did have some nearby laundromats. Ron bought me a washer and dryer. I had a pretty nice container garden. It lacked some sun but it got a few hours a day, enough to grow salad greens and such. I would water my plants every night, and the water would drip down.

The guy below me, on the second floor, we'll call him Tommy. Tommy came and banged on our door one night. Bad neighborhood, Ron had me hide while he got it.  Tommy told Ron I had to stop watering my plants. Why? Because the water was dripping down on his clothes.

What? Tommy clarified: he was washing his clothes in the tub and hanging them on the railing (against the lease!), but the water was getting on the clothes. Ron told him about the laundromat, and told the manager (hanging clothes on the railing was a lease violation).   They sent him a letter: Don't do that. Tommy persisted, so did I (I was working all-days and could only water when he had his clothes out). He came up the stairs while we were at work and tore the leaves off my elephant ears, sitting outside the front door.

I was pretty angry about it. I got out my fish emulsion, which smells like rotting fish. I make a rich solution and deeply watered every plant. The water dripped down onto the clothes.

He HAD to take them to the laundromat after that, and continued to do so until we moved. That was the only time, in 12 years of apartment living, that I ever had a problem with someone crossing a boundary. It's funny, the only time Ron and I didn't live on an upper floor was right before his accident. We loved living on the third floor and the walk up the stairs curtailed a lot of manic buying sprees.

However, since we bought the house, it has been an endless stream of everyone in our yard. Meter men. Strange animals. Many, many, children. We finally solve the problem on one side, only to have it on the other!

I never expected that, or the constant barking problems. I guess a lot of people think a dog and a house go together like peanut butter and jelly, but I had some time to think: yesterday, while working in the yard, I noticed that "Barky" isn't barking much. I believe he only barks "for cause". Many, nearby, dogs are far worse in their barking habits. As barking goes, he's not bad. However, we never had a single bark in any apartments.

In Houston, though, I see ads for "pet friendly apartments" that encourage huge dogs, vicious breeds, etc. It seems that all apartments that accept a cat, also take dogs. If they had a cats only apartment, guaranteed quiet, and I could bring my garden (grin), I would move.

I will sound awful as I say this: Oh, for a dog and child free subdivision. It's an oxymoron. I know. Besides, it might be a lot of adults who would party. [shrug] Compromises, everywhere.

Anyway, yesterday, worked in the yard most of the day. Had a good time, got a lot done. Spread some soil amendments and brought the plants in from a cold snap.   I had them everywhere in the bedroom last night. Pretty funny. Had some good talks with Ron. I like spending time with him.

Today, Ron gave me the day off. I slept in as late as I dared (too late = migraine), got up, watched a little TV, took the plants out and checked the garden. I did my God Time, and watched more TV. Ron woke up and we went to Burger King. We had pretty good trips, on the last one, I said "the Nth house" and she drove right past it.

A little alarming: she couldn't count? I prefer to think she was distracted, or overly reliant on the little GPS arrow. I hope so. Sometimes I get alarmed when I think about the fact: I am trusting my safety to this person.

Came home, and Ron wanted to sit in the garden. It was pretty cold but I did.. and we had the drama with the little kid.   I still had a good time talking to Ron.

I think, as a general rule, Ron and I should be in our yard when the kids are in theirs. They are obviously poorly supervised, and we won't get "home invaders" if they know we'll catch them.

However, we are now on the record as saying "No children in the yard, ever". So, that should end. If it doesn't stop I can call a spanish-speaking officer to go explain the concept of "trespassing".

"Ugly:

2011-11-16T18:47:00.000-06:00

So, now that I've vented about stupid, endless, barking; how was my morning?

Pretty awful, actually. Thanks for asking.

It started with a large paratransit van (basically a short bus) pulling up. I got on. The driver was new, and her trainer greeted me with "You got fat! Look at you! You look awful!" This continued for a couple of minutes, including "You went off the Atkins, didn't you?" [smirk] "I can tell! You went off your diet! You look TERRIBLE!"

She even made a point of telling Ron how "terrible" I looked, and "She really let herself go, didn't she? She looks terrible".

Now, I can understand, if you see someone you haven't seen in a while, you might have a spontaneous utterance. "Oh, look at you!" Something like that. I got "What happened?" a lot with a meaningful glance. This time around, everyone knew, so no one asked. God bless the gossip line.

Anyway, I thought it was rude and incredibly offensive, bordering on verbal abuse. The trainee kept looking back at her in the rear-view. I thought "Go ahead and talk. You are making yourself look awful. You are showing who you really are. Your true colors are shining through."

I remembered her from before. She is an ugly gossip, divulging what are clearly confidences. I got out my headphones. I love my headphones.

She got a little aggravated when I put them on, but she couldn't order me to remove them. Ron had already said "I know you don't like my music, put on your headphones." He was playing his "Soul Stick" USB drive on his talking book machine, using it as a boom box. The drivers love it.

Now, lest you think I'm angry about this; I'm not. The sad thing, a paratransit driver DOES have a limited amount of power in my life. If they choose to abuse it, shame on them. If it is egregious, I will report it.

This was just petty, mean, and spiteful. It could have really hurt if I VALUED what she had to say. I didn't. Since I already knew she was "ugly" - I didn't accept anything she said.

I'm realistic. I'm sure *I* sound "ugly" to dog lovers when I rant about endless barking. That's my opinion. I'm not saying YOUR dog is a monster. I just don't like dogs.

So, we had a very long ride with the trainee, and this woman. We picked up another client, and the trainer made sure to put his wheelchair directly next to me, far away from HER. When his hand started crawling up my leg, I understood. Every time he did it, she would laugh, implicitly encouraging him.

Since the guy was clearly "limited" and non-verbal, I just pushed the hand away, then put my backpack in my lap. He kept touching my knees after that but at least his hand had stopped crawling up my thigh. He kept vocalizing, trying to get my attention, and I found it very annoying.

Did the driver know he'd try to feel me up? She called him by name, sat away from him, and put him next to me, instead of Ron. She smiled and laughed everytime he tried to grab my crotch. I believe she did.

I could have also traded seats with Ron, if needed. By this time, we had been riding over an hour.

The driver, by law, can ride the passenger around for up to 2 hours. Per trip. Something to consider when riding paratransit, and one reason I am a huge fan of the bus line. I had to go to the bathroom, but I could only imagine the drama and judgemental comments that would ensue if I made a request. They are supposed to stop if you are clearly in need, but some don't, just to be hateful, making comments like 'You need to stop drinking so much water".

Excuse me, I need to stay hydrated. Lithium is a diuretic.

I elected to "hold it" rather than beg. I am a proud woman.

We got the other guy, and finally got to work. I unloaded everything. Ron was a little tardy producing the badge and keys ( he holds them since I got mugged, that way if I get mugged on a Day Out they won't get access to the vending machines), and I told him I was about to pop.

I didn't have to explain why I hadn't asked the driver to stop.

I got into work, and faced several complaints in a row! I tried to pay refunds, and no one was there! So far, my day had just SUCKED.

However, the weather was nice. The vending machines were behaving. The complaint, regarding the coffee machine, was balanced by the sight of some of the biggest gossips at work, watching Ron clean it. I finally got to put out my new value line items, and some of them sold the minute I closed the machine.

If I "catch" a customer about to buy something, I'll stand nearby, chanting "Buy it! Buy it". When the item drops I say "Thank you!" They always laugh. Some, of course, don't want the cheerleading and I just smile and say "Thank you".

Ron loves my enthusiasm for work. So do the customers.

So, maybe not such an awful day. I got everything done and waited on our ride.

I liked the guy we had to go home. He's not my favorite, but he's a good guy.

Finally home. So nice and quiet. I decided to take a nap, did so. Ron and I had a good time sitting out in the garden, talking. It was great.

I told him, "I don't want a car. I don't want jewelry. I don't want a steak dinner, or designer clothes. I want this - quality time." Ron laughed, and said that's about all he could afford anyway!

A good ending.

AND the dog catcher came by, I had seen a large, nasty thing running around yesterday. He had it loaded in the truck. If it was sniffing around the yard behind us, it might have provoked the barking.

I hope we have a nice quiet night.

Sick of barking dogs all night.

2011-11-16T18:21:00.000-06:00

The dog behind us, barking all night. Not a peep today. I suspect the owners are locking him in the house during the day, and only letting him out at night to be a "guard" dog. I really doubt the effacy of a "guard" dog that barks at everything. How will you know the bad guy? The bad guy will bring a gun, shoot your dog, and now your kids are out a pet in addition to the robbery and whatever else.

Again: I am not a fan of dogs. I am not a fan of someone else's dog, one I don't even see, keeping me up all night every night because "I want a dog". My cat does not keep anyone up at night. I am not a fan of other people's dogs destroying my fence, getting onto my property, menacing me in my own yard, attacking my lawn mower, attacking my cat, etc. I get very upset when they keep Ron from sleeping, and their barking-induced sleep deprivation aggravates my mental illness.

Really, it is surprising I have any kind feelings toward dogs. People always want to know why Ron doesn't have a guide dog. Well, they're too much work. They have a short working life. They get sick and die. They are not terribly reliable. According to Ron, they also get into the trash and eat things they shouldn't, including used sanitary products.

My cat would never do that. He uses his corner of the yard, without any prompting. He has NEVER had "an accident". He doesn't bite, chew, or bark. Wonderful pet. He gives me all the love I'd want from a pet without any of the drama.

Anyway, not a good start. I missed my God time, because I COULDN'T SLEEP. It is so frustrating to me; 16 hours a day, the dog is completely silent. All night long, bark, bark, bark. My only consolation: the mother, and kids, have to hear it too; and it's a lot louder on their side of the fence. The father works nights. I think that's why they let the dog out at night "For protection" but in my opinion the fearful people like that tend to believe the dog is the only thing keeping them from violent rapists, child molesting kidnappers. Not true.

Like I said, a really bad guy will bring a gun, kill the dog, and do what he wants. The dog offers a false sense of security to them, and a lot of aggravation to everyone else.

Video Blog!

2011-11-15T18:07:00.000-06:00

"Treasure"

2011-11-14T18:29:00.000-06:00

I had to laugh at myself tonight, as I sneakily "stole" several huge trash bags out of my own can and scurried to the backyard.

It was a pretty normal morning. We got up, went to work. Worked. Ron had me running around, but I did it all (mostly) and he made a point of thanking me a couple of times. He really understands I need appreciation.

When we came home "Flying Soccer Ball" neighbor was working in his yard with a crew. I'm not sure what he does for a living. The crew was clearly expert at lawn/yard care, but he knows a lot about contracting and he has a generator. If I had to guess, an "all purpose" contractor.

He told me he was cleaning up, and would I like some work done in my yard? He did this, earlier this year, clearing out an overgrown corner. He had mentioned "coming back". The first time, I bought his crew some snacks, a case of beer, and a case of soda. They seemed pretty happy. He refused all offers of money.

I said, sure, I have some "weed trees"; the ones we had discussed earlier. He cleaned it all up.

While the crew was working, I ordered them pizza - pepperoni, and meat lovers. Although he had said he didn't want any pay, he seemed really happy to get the pizza.

When it was all done, I had 2 (very large) trash cans at the curb, no weed trees, more sun in my garden. He had raked up the leaves I'd left under the red tips. Not really an organic fellow; I think he believes if it comes off a plant it belongs in a trash can.

I'm the opposite, I think it should go into the compost pile. Not to mention, mine is puny this year. I have a few inches of dried up plant stalks and that's it. Normally I get a lot of grass clippings.

My ideal compost and mulch is a mixture of grass clippings and shredded leaves. They break down quickly, into the soil.

I wondered if I should go hunting, on garbage night. Sometimes yard crews leave clear bags full of "treasure" at the curb. I just need to make sure the house doesn't have a dog in the yard. How revolting that would be!

One of my fondest garden memories involves me, Ron, the wheelchair, and a couple of bags of "treasure" late one night. He held them in his lap as I pushed him home, and I put them in the garden.

Hey, if it's at the curb, it is free for the taking. It went to compost and grew lovely plants.

So, tonight, I was looking at the garbage cans by the street, lamenting the loss of my lovely red-tip leaves. He had asked for trash bags. Hm. I wondered. I opened the can. Several large trash bags in there.

I poked them. "Treasure" - a mix of shredded grass and leaves. They were already heating up, indicating they were ideal for compost and soil amendment.

After a furtive glance at his house, I started dragging them out, into the back yard, and unloading them into the bin. I spread one in the potato patch and hid another one in a large pot. I got about 7 bags, including the red tip leaves.

I'd planned to go to the garden center. However, after buying the pizzas today my budget's a little tight. I had reluctantly concluded I would have to settle for a few bags of quality organic soil amendments. I wondered how I could make my entire budget stretch though the garden. What would be ideal.

And I got my answer. Compost, of course, is the best soil amendment. I can "sheet compost" by spreading "treasure" a few inches deep and letting it rot into the soil. I do plan to cover it up, though, with some peat moss. I [plan to add some cotton burr compost and maybe some "soil conditioner".

I just had to laugh at myself, sneaking around in my own yard, the cat scampering at my feet, and thinking:

I HAVE to put this in my blog.

It wasn't the peanut butter

2011-11-13T15:55:00.000-06:00

Whoo. Crazy weekend.

It was lovely; 60/80 degrees, partly sunny, breezy, and humid. Perfect garden weather.

I got up pretty early on Saturday, went to Foodtown, and got some groceries. Some local slang refers to it as "making groceries".

Well, God made them. I just bought some. I have a huge sack full of product for work, too.

We came home, and I decided to do some yard work. I weeded the garden, did some pruning, planting, planted my salad garden (spicy greens and lettuce), and started some seeds for my aunt and uncle. Busy.

After I finished on Saturday, I came in the house, took my shower, and got ready to go to a BBQ place. I will not name names for reasons to follow.

We got there, Ron ordered some meat, and I got a chopped beef. It was good, but pretty fatty. [Honestly, I would have rather had one of my cheddarburgers. Oh, yum.] We had a good ride to come home, but by the time I got to the house I was horribly queasy. Then the lithium kicked in (it can boost the immune system), and I took a nap.

When I got up, I had to run to the bathroom to avoid a "Code Brown". This persisted, with horrendous cramps and bloating, for most of the night.

I   blame the BBQ. I was fine until I ate it. I had peanut butter for breakfast, Saturday, and I ate more today - I was fine. It wasn't the peanut butter.   Now, I ordered two sandwiches, ate one, and saved the other one. You couldn't pay me to eat it!

However, Ron doesn't believe it was the BBQ. He likes the food and thinks I am just "delicate" (paraphrase).   We usually have Tuedays off. So, he plans to eat it Monday night, "proving" to me the BBQ is fine.

I'm glad I will be out of the house! I'll put some powerade in the fridge.

I was losing a lot of fluid, and I love powerade. It has good flavors, and the zero has exactly that much sugar - zero. It sure works for hydration. I always keep some on hand.

I can't exactly run to the grocery store like THAT, and it is very difficult for Ron to go out on his own. I always prefer to have that kind of stuff on hand.

Sick? OK, let's go open the cabinet. Cough? Vomiting? Whatever, I've got it.

Most of the stuff can be purchased at the Dollar store. I mean, a real dollar store, not one of those $1 an item, and up, places.

I went to bed very early last night, woke up pretty early this morning. I felt pretty good. I did my God time, ate a cautious breakfast, and went out into the garden. Somewhere as I was lugging the half bale of peat moss, and the 40 pound sack of cow manure, I realized I felt pretty good.

Today, I planted a lot of seeds and started work on the potato bed. I have really excellent soil and sun exposure in Garden Bed One. It is 4 feet wide and 7 feet long.  The length runs north to south. I have a gorgeous frilly purple kale at the south end. I planted it back in 2009. I'm extremely fond of it. I put a few potted plants around the base so I won't disturb the roots. Basically, salad greens, in those long, skinny, "windowbox" pots will circle the base of the kale. At the north end, I want to grow potatoes. Last year, I put some in Garden Bed 5. That's when my world was completely gone to hell and it looked like I might have to move out.

I planted them anyway. They didn't get a whole lot of soil preparation, but I still got some nice looking potatoes off each plant. It was a lot of fun digging them up - but I did freak out when the tops all died. I thought I had killed them - but they are supposed to do that.

This year, I decided to put a little more effort into the potatoes. I have some nice red and white fingerling potatoes, and the yukon golds from last year. I saved some for "seed", they're starting to sprout.

I am, technically a "biointensive" gardener. What does that mean? Wiki link

In my case, I adapted various methods from different programs. Firstly, I started by watching the yard, finding the good sunny spots. You can't grow plants without sun.

I grew plants, in large pots, to see how they did in the various areas. They favored the north side of the yard, it got the most sun. I have tree issues on the south side of the yard and it's always shady. The pots tended to congregate on the north east side to the middle of the yard.

Then I called 811 - I have underground utilties. I had plants to dig up a lovely garden bed in the middle of the yard. Then the nice man started putting flags in the yard, telling me "The gas line is only down a couple of inches here" The electrical cut more footage, and pretty soon I had about 15x17 feet of prime garden area.

I have "foiled" the underground utilties, in the summer the mid-yard gets plenty of sun so I grow things in very large pots, sitting on top of the ground. This year, I had potatoes, and amaranth.

I marked out my garden area, after compromise with Ron. He didn't want "garden" near the house, but has since relented. I can have large pots near the back door.

I had about 20X20 feet, but I looked at my surveyor papers and realized I needed to watch my easement. I lost about 3 feet on the north fence, and 4 on the east fence (all the underground utilies run in from there).

So, I marked out my area. A few hundred square feet.

Now, I did the smart thing. I collected soil for the soil test. I got my results back "Unusually high level of fertility, lacks magnesium, calcium, and potassium". I got a lot more than that. I got the organic reccomendation.

I make a point of using kelp meal, gypsum, a dab of epsom salts, and a lot of cottonseed meal in the garden. I like cottonseed meal because it is pretty balanced, a local product, safe, and cheap. The garden loves it. I go easy on the bone meal because my phosphorus is fine. My Ph is near 7, ideal.

Next thing, I dug up garden bed one. Many, many garden books think people hate to dig (I love it). They tell you, just pile up dirt on the ground, frame it, and start growing!

DON'T DO IT.

A few of the things I found while digging my garden beds: 13 gallons' worth of styrofoam take-out trash. Large sheets of shingles. A huge piece of concrete, about 4 feet long and 2 feet thick. Metal cans, a metal chain, a dog collar, and other assorted junk. It wasn't a garden, it was a TRASH can.

I dug it out, to about 3 feet. I removed all the bermuda grass. I put the soil into a wheelbarrow, and mixed in good things (you name it, old potting soil, compost, cow manure, leaves, grass clippings, pretty much anything organic),   Then I went after the soil, down about 2-4 feet deep. I stirred all that up really well, added good stuff, and then put the wheelbarrow stuff on top. Basically, "double digging", but I triple dug and am I glad I did. Can you imagine trying to grow a tomato ontop of that giant piece of concrete?

Of course I did all this when manic!

I put in emerald edging. Wonderful stuff, keeps all the bad plants out of the garden. The pieces installed in 2005 are still fine.

Then, I put mulch on top. Kind of challenging, for a long time, getting mulch. Generally had to pay someone to drive me to the store, I'd buy it, put it in the truck, and then bring it home and unload it.

HOWEVER - I found a garden center that delivers anything I buy for $20. Love them - actually doing it later this week.

I have always tried to keep AT LEAST a couple of inches of mulch on top of the soil. Generally used, grass clippings and wood mulch. I do bring home coffee grounds now and then, spread them around. Worms love old grounds. The stuff rots down and improves the soil. I just need to replenish, and I have great soil.

That's it. So, over the course of years I built my garden beds:
Bed 1 - 7x4 feet
Bed 2-3 - I joined them, so it is 4 x 11 feet.
Bed 4 - shadier, not as good soil (I tried amending with large bark, instead of ground) 4x4 - good for partly sunny to shade lovers who don't like a rich meal (Collards have been consistent)
Bed 5 - 4x4 - grew the potatoes last year. Plan to grow sugar snaps, collards, and fava beans this year.

Bed 6 is off outside the computer room, mostly shaded, I did that this year. It is on a slope so I had to terrace it. Leafy greens, an Acerola Cherry bush/tree, and a parsley. The parsley in bed 5 died, this one kept going.

I also have a small, ornamental flower bed out front. It mainly has some jasmine right now.

I have pathways in between the garden beds. I need to resurface them, more landscape fabric and some of that rubber mulch.   I built a raised bed for the fig tree, in "Heatherworld" - what Ron calls my garden. The bed is about 3 feet high, 4x4. Built out of cinderblocks. It was amazing, how much soil I needed for fill. I was taking shovelsful out of the lawn!

I will, most likely, be using Garden Bed 5 for a grapevine. I would like some fresh fruit in addition to the veggies.

Right now, in the ground, I have kale, collards, fava beans (planted), a vine from the curcurbit family that has sprouted in my "mint" planter (mint is all dead anyway), and started running up a trellis. The fruit is some kind of round, green, ball. I am very curious. I gave it some cottonseed meal the other day and it greened up. Chard, a parsley, and that's it.

In large pots, I have amaranth (lovely to look at and tasty greens), collards (that's where I put the "Vates" Heather!), a gorgous purple kale (I have a weakness for purple kale). The ones by the north fence (the soccer family) have tomato cages to protect plants from flying soccer balls. In smaller pots, I have 3 lovely red chard, scattered around.

I have some long, windowbox planters, about 3 square feet total, planted in salad greens. I'm partial to Oakleaf lettuce, and I got a huge packet at the seed store for $2. I love a good bitter green in my salad but Ron does not. I have my own planter, for me.

The salad stuff is frost sensitive, so I can bring it in the house if we get some freezing weather. The leafy cooking greens laugh at freezes. The amaranth would not, but the pot is enormous (I could bathe in it), so I'd just harvest it. I let it go to seed, on purpose, and it will resprout. These are 2nd generation plants. I'd get a 3rd.

To plant, potatoes, sugar snap peas, and onions. It's a little warm for the latter, so I'm waiting a few weeks. If I can wear shorts in the garden, probably not their time.

I have to go to bed early tonight, so I'm off. I have a good free garden book I got off Amazon. It's from 1911, and very entertaining.

For Dad

2011-11-11T20:29:00.001-06:00

Tonight, I thanked my Dad on Facebook. He's a veteran. I had fun addressing him by "rank". [grin] He was an officer.

Dad was out of the service by the time I came into his life. I told him tonight I was proud of him, and I meant it.

I later went back and "corrected", telling him I'm proud of him, every day of the year. I am.

From what I've seen, little kids are always asking "Why?" Dad would always (and still does) take the time to answer the question in detail.

He is a very committed man. I don't know all the details of his marriage to my birth mother, but I know this: he stayed with an alcoholic, unmedicated, bipolar woman for 10 years. She left him. Most men would have run screaming after a year.

He's been married to my adoptive mother for over 30 years; quite an accomplishment these days. It's obvious they have a healthy bond, I can tell they enjoy spending time together.

This might embarrass him if he reads it, but he's very loving. When he was a single Dad, he used to sit me down with cookies (nilla wafers) and milk, and we'd talk. More likely, I'd chatter at him (I still tend to do that). When I got the chicken pox, he took me to the doctor. I remember, lying in my bed, miserable and feverish. Dad kept checking on me, opening my door and looking in on me, and refilling the humidifier as it ran dry.

I remember, during his single parent days, how he used to take me to the eye doctor, and how much fun I had going to the optician to pick out my frames. The best part of all, I thought, was picking up the new glasses. He'd take me for ice cream all the way up through my teen years. When I was about age 10, he told me "I'll buy you a scoop of ice cream for every touchdown you witness by the home team." "What's a touchdown, Dad?" [grin]

Who could forget the fun of a trip to the grocery store? It was the highlight of my week. He'd start at one end, stocking up on essentials like peanut butter, mayonaise, and white bread. I ate a lot of those peanut butter and mayo sandwiches. I love Dad, but hate them. I was so enthralled when Dad's "girlfriend" (later my adoptive mother) made me a peanut butter and JELLY!

While at the grocery store, I'd be sitting in the cart, with my legs sticking out through the holes. We had a contract, every time - if I was a good girl, I'd get a treat when we got the produce department. Sometimes, if Dad was feeling "silly" he'd run and push the cart, then release it and watch me squeal as I rolled away.

Finally, the end of the trip! Dad would select his produce, and time for my reward - a fresh grape! One memorable time, he got me TWO grapes- one black, one white! I still love grapes. I didn't get one if I was a brat.

He used to work very long hours, especially after he remarried - he had 4 new family members. He raised her kids as if they were his own, and their children call him "Grand-dad". Dad used to look in on me, late at night, as I'd sleep. Sometimes I'd still be awake, and play possum. If he got home before my bedtime, he'd help me "say my prayers" and listen to me talk about my day. Good memories.

I guess you could say that set part of the foundation for my God Time. We attended church every week, and I was pretty timid.

As I got older, I suspect I was a little restless, because Dad turned to me one week and said "Here, read this." as he handed me a Bible. I wish I had a photo of that moment! That's how it ALL started!

I read the Bible, became enthralled, and the rest is history. I remember one time during coffee hour after church, one parishoner said I'd learned more during the sermon, than he had. My Sunday School teachers hated it, because I already knew all the good stories.

When I was 8, the church gave me Bible I still own. It's pretty battered, but very well loved. I wouldn't give it up for anything. It's one of the few things I took with me when I moved out.

As I got sick, Dad did everything he could to help me. I remember the day I was hospitalized for depression, Dad bought me a candy bar and a can of soda as I waited for the ambulance to take me to the hospital. He stayed with me until I was admitted. When I got out, he paid for many, many counseling sessions.

When I met Ron, Dad was horrified. Here was a blind, 37 year old man with limited employment prospects after his daughter. Amazingly, Dad didn't kill him. They get along great now, and when Dad tells me he likes Ron, I know he means it.

I was pretty horrible to Dad for a good 8 years after that. Bipolar disorder. Dad just hung in there, probably relieving horrible times, and I know he did a lot of praying.

Even after all that, when I called to tell him about Ron's accident he immediately offered to fly out. He also helped with some bills, and paid for the wedding when Ron and I FINALLY got married!

When I found out I had bipolar disorder, he was tremendously supportive. As Ron's problems escalated, he was very supportive. It's great to know I have Dad in my corner. It's wonderful to know they both pray for Ron and I, every day of the year.

I love you, Dad. Thanks for being there!

Spuds

2011-11-11T20:01:00.000-06:00

Pretty groggy and forgetful today. I bounced back into a very mild mania, and I was happy to get it, when I was forgetting things and having trouble talking.

Yesterday, I bought some fingerling potatoes at the grocery store. I had hoped maybe they'd sprout, as a few of the lighter skinned ones sported an obvious green tinge. Green is actually good for growing, but completely toxic for eating. Two of them are sprouting. Good.

I plan to take them, and the Yukon Golds I got from my spring harvest, and plant a 4 foot square in my garden. I'll need to till up the soil, add some peat moss, and acifify the soil a bit. That helps prevent disease. The peat moss will break down quickly in my climate and I already have a partial bale. I'll also add some compost, etc.

I should be fine, because I haven't used that garden bed for potatoes, or other tomato family plants (did you know they were related? So are peppers and eggplants) for a couple of years. The soil is in good shape, too.

Will it work at this time of year? The authorities are divided, but the seed potato retailer (a company I used many years ago - for regular seed) made it sound very feasible. If I get hammered with a lot of frosts, I'll have a reduced crop, assuming I did not cover the potatoes - which I would, because I have a small garden. The garden bed gets a tremendous amount of sun, especially in the winter.

It's about a month before my first frost date. I'll keep you posted. I plan to plant my fava beans (some at least) and sugar snap peas (also, some), too, but not near the potatoes. They don't "like" each other per the companion planting guides.

It keeps me busy and occupied with minimal money spent. I'll be getting my soil amendments delivered next week or the week after.

In Houston, I basically have a year-round garden. Winter is more potatoes, green things, broccoli, peas, fava beans, and onions. Carrots, too, if I were interested. Spring, pretty much anything: tomatoes, squash, beans, and all the winter stuff except fava beans. Summer, pretty limited, just the hot weather stuff like sweet potatoes, eggplant, peppers, and okra. I grew amaranth as a salad green this summer, during a horrible heat wave, and it performed well. Fall is pretty much the same as spring, but tomatoes are iffier.

That's it for my garden plans, tonight.

Guarding it

2011-11-11T07:07:00.000-06:00

I didn't sleep very well last night. The dog behind us kept barking, all night long. I kept waking up. Not only that, I had nightmares about my compost pile.

There's something really sad about that, having nighmares about the compost. I will address it today. Basically, I have to take the "cozy, dry, refuge" away. I have ideas on that.

I have also read that mint repells - them. So, I'll be buying some mint (the garden center had some lovely mints, and I'd love to grow some anyway) and plant it all around the pile. The plants will love the nutrients and moisture. I will love the fact they're guarding it for me.

When I kept waking up, I'd pray. I have a bad tendency, in my faith life, to ONLY pray during my God Time. God loves to hear from me, not just then. I need to work on that.

I work on appreciating the good things in my life, and thanking God for them. I think that is important.

Yesterday, I saw something at the grocery store I found profoundly sad. It's one of those huge grocery stores, very large, acres and acres of merchandise.

I was looking for the fava beans. I found myself on the candle aisle.

I love candles. These, however, were religious candles. In my own opinion I think God doesn't care if you burn a candle. I like to burn incense when I do my God Time but that's just a fun little ritual for me. When I have a headache, and can't, I am certain God still hears my prayers.

As I looked closer, I realized that while many of them were the traditional "Catholic" style (and I have a few in my disaster kit - they are very long burning), many of them were Santeria candles. It was a huge, long display, at least 30 feet, with several shelves. They even had special "powders" and oils. "Look at me" "Favor from judge", etc. They also use special charms, etc. Information on santeria

How profoundly sad. Santeria, basically, is a hybrid of Catholic and Pagan practices. It began with Yoruba slaves, kidnapped and sold into slavery. They were not "permitted" to practice their native religion, so they used Catholic saints as "covers". While they appeared to be praying to St Matthew, for instance, they were actually praying to something else entirely.

Am I scared? No. When I told Ron, he was chided me to get out of there, but I told him "My God is a lot stronger than their god". Did I buy anything? Play with the merchandise? No, I just looked at it, briefly, and got out of there, looking for my fava beans.

You wouldn't think a pagan "religion" would be so popular in Texas, in this milennia, but it is. Boy, is it popular, according to the merchandise display.

I think the saddest item was the love candle. It was in a clear glass, had images on the glass, red wax. It had a "prayer" on the side you apparently recited while lighting the candle, asking (something) to bring you love, so you could enjoy the acts of love.

How very, very, sad. Of course I'm already praying for them, but when I see stuff like that, and realize how many people have this "magic" crap in their homes, it makes me want to crank it up.

Video Blog!

2011-11-10T19:33:00.000-06:00

I forgot to add, I also got some fingerling potatoes from the grocery store. I plan to try to sprout them and grow some this winter. Also purchased at the garden center, not mentioned, a nice, vareigated scented geranium with nicely cut foilage. Smells minty. I have it in a window.

Not a Good Day Out

2011-11-09T21:21:00.000-06:00

Allen, you have some great ideas! I've been catching up with the garden, lately.

Yesterday was very, very, funny. I woke up with a horrible headache. I almost vomited, it was so bad. I took my generic "Headache Relief Tablets" and tried to go back to bed. The caffeine in the pills ensured I wouldn't get any sleep.

I took my shower, and wondered if I would see any rain today. I did my God Time, took some more headache pills (4 hours after the first dose, I don't want to roast my liver), and checked the weather.

Ron's favorite weather program said it would rain after 2. Mine said, after 11. It was about 10:30.

When I checked on Ron, he was lying in bed asleep. I got my stuff water proofed (i.e. - no Kindle, no Bible, bring poncho and extra plastic bags, bring plastic bag for cell phone), and prepared to leave. My feet were kind of achy - I think I have a mild case of plantar fasciitis. I am certain that is not spelled properly. I put on my "good" shoes and opened the front door.

Right as Ron came out of his room. I gave him a quick hug and ran off. I made it to the bus stop, in time for my ride. I called Ron and apologized for running off on him. He understood, and hoped I had fun.

I had to put the phone in the bag - a zip top quart bag, if you ever needed the information. It was starting to drizzle. I did a lot of praising God (quietly, don't want to scare people), and thanking Him. I asked for more, as much as He felt we could handle. I asked for rain to fill our reservoirs, no flooding, etc.

I spent a lot of time talking to God. We are in a dreadful drought and desperately need any rain we can get. I'm sure He is happy to hear it.

My feet were getting pretty achy. Where was my bus? I called Ron once the drizzle stopped. The bus broke down.

I waited, almost an hour, on the next one. My feet were SCREAMING. No bus bench. I did ask for one when I filled out a customer service survey.

I hobbled on the bus, making a successful effort to keep my mouth shut when the driver asked me how I was doing. I just nodded, waved my pass, and sat down - thank you Jesus.

I had to make a deposit, so I did that. The headache was trying to come back, my feet ached miserably, and the sky was turning black.

So much for Ron's weather forecast. I went to my connecting bus bench and sat down for a while. I watched the clouds boiling up and blackening. I thought about my headache, and my feet.

I thought "Why don't I just go home? This is not a good Day Out". I did that.

I passed a chicken place, on the way, and got Ron some takeout. Boy, he loved it. I tied it up in my plastic bag right as the sky opened up.

I stood there, in the deluge, and I had to laugh. I'm standing by the road, in the pouring rain, with a killer headache and feet that feel about 90 years old. I can't even drive. I'm stuck here, waiting on a bus, and praying to God this one didn't break down, too.

I laughed at myself, and my life, for a while. I had to, really. It was ludicrous. I think sometimes, about the irony of God choosing to use someone as "broken" as me. I think He could do "better" but then I remind myself God does not want "powerful" people. He wants people willing to be used, so His power can work.

I kept standing there on my aching feet, wondering when the bus would arrive, the chicken in my tote bag, wondering if my garden was getting any rain. People in cars stared at me as they drove by. One man offered me a ride. He seemed nice, but no way, ever. I was nice about it.

Even if I knew someone who offered me a ride, while I was standing in the pouring rain at the bus stop, I don't know that I would accept. Especially if the car had nice seats. Me in my vinyl poncho, dripping wet, all over the nice seats? No.

The bus came, and I got on with the chicken. It reminded me of a time, a few years ago. I was riding the bus, and I kept smelling fried chicken. It was very strong. I kept thinking I was hallucinating - I can end up smelling things that don't exist. I was really bothered by it, until a lady got off with a huge takeout bag from a fried chicken store. I felt so relieved. [snort]

My food wasn't apparent, I hope they didn't have anyone with psychotic issues - actually they did. Manic Guy got on the bus.

Manic Guy is clearly bipolar. He drinks. He is always very flushed and reeks of alcohol. He will rant and rave at anyone on the bus, generally about conspiracies, etc. One day he was ranting about "Those Mexican Invaders ruining our country" and half the bus was hispanic. I expect, one day, he will either kill, or be killed, by someone.

He got on, clearly manic, ranting about the wrath of God, how "our country is enslaved to islam and God is angry about it, that's why he's letting us suffer!" He got right into someone's face. THAT'S WHY GOD IS LETTING US SUFFER! Then he started ranting about gay people.

Dude. Shut up.

Now, if you ever wondered what I think about the whole "gay" thing - the Bible is clear God doesn't like it. The Bible is also clear on many other things God doesn't like. Many of them are sins I commit on a regular basis. I am no better than anyone else. I knew 2 wonderful Christian men who were gay. They chose to be celibate. I thought that sounded wise. What you do with your sex organs is between you and God.

Anyway, I don't go around shrieking God's vengeance at ANYONE. God can do His own convicting, His own judging.

I desperately wanted to gag the man. But I think God throws him at me now and then to remind me TAKE YOUR PILLS, AS DIRECTED. He is, like, a boogeyman for me. Take your pills or you will end up like him.

Best of all, ManicMan got off after I did, so that meant he saw my stop. AGH.

I got off, still pouring (we got over an inch in my yard, per the rain gauge), and trudged home, carrying the chicken. I didn't know, but Ron was, at the time, "Blowing up my cell phone" with repeated pleas for me to call a cab, which he'd pay for.

By the time the cab would have arrived, the rain had stopped anyway.

Ron met me at the door, with a couple of towels. I thought that was really sweet, and a good example of "Acts of Service" love language. I gave Ron his "Acts of Service" - the bag of chicken, which he gobbled eagerly, making yum yum noises.

I took some more "Headache Tablets" - they generally work very well. I watched the rain, glad I had come home. Glad we were getting rain, and making a point to thank God for it.

The headache crawled off, still snarling, and the sun came out. Yeah. I took a nap, had nightmares. That means the headache was probably a migraine.

I watched TV for a while. Ron and I spent so much time chatting later, we didn't get enough sleep. Oh, well.

Got up, I had chosen to do my God Time later. Did that. Got ready for work. It was warmish, forecast to be in the 70's. The air had a nasty bite under the heat, and I brought my coat. Glad I did.

Went to work, got it done, and left. We went to the wholesale warehouse and got more supplies. Yay. My machines will not suck with empty staring coils. I hate empty coils in my snack machines.

Came home, took a nap - needed it. Ron and I went to Starbucks, I had an eggnog steamer. It was very nut-meggy. Ron got his latte with lots of splenda. He tried a sip of my drink and told me "I don't know if I like it". I thought that was funny.

We even held hands for a little bit, talking about various things. I have a very bad tendency, which you may have noted, to focus on negative things. I am working on that.

Happily, I was "hypomanic" - very mildly "up" but not obnoxious (like the dreaded ManicMan) or overly chatty. Ron said I was "fine". We had a good ride home.

I had a good time looking at my garden books, and I have tomorrow off. And yay, on Friday I can go into work and fill up my vending machines!

I really enjoy my job.

Assistant Manager

2011-11-07T19:20:00.000-06:00

That was interesting. I just deleted several unintelligible spam - advertising.   To state the obvious, I have a spam filter. All comments go to moderation. I'll publish anything that isn't abusive, spam, or extremely personal. But I make the choice to publish.

Anyway, didn't sleep well last night. Too much caffeine, too late. Not only that, the dog behind us kept barking!   I don't know what had the dog so excited.

Sometimes, at night, awakened by someone's dog, I have dark thoughts. Then I remind myself God created them, ask Him to help, and try to go back to sleep.

It didn't help that I was ABANDONED by my cat - it was a nice night and he made the most of it. He came home, exhausted, as I left for work. [sniff] I think I may need counseling.

Went to work. We had in interesting driver, a white guy with a shaved head. It wasn't a straight trip (usually isn't - that's why paratransit is a shared ride service). We went to some really depressing townhomes not far from work.

After the passenger disembarked, the driver said "This is a bad area" and got out of there. It seemed bad - just a very negative, dark, energy.   Even Acres Homes has a better energy than that.

We finally got to work. I started work, and did it all. I got deliveries. I unloaded a partial pallet of soda, onto a hand cart, took it to my stockroom, and stacked it. I offloaded another handcart full of bottled iced tea, into the stockroom. I helped the other vendor with some stuff, helped Ron "fix" the food machine (it involved Ron beating on the machine while we both uttered profanities in two languages), sold some change to the credit union, and, not surprisingly, stocked.

My job title is "Assistant Manager" but could easily be "stocker". I like Assistant Manager better.   Ron gave me the title.

We did have a small conflict at work. Ron got exasperated because I asked a question he considered "stupid". He kept telling me I was "better" than that and "using my disability as an excuse" (to what?). Told me I knew the answer already and wasn't "trying".

I really hate that about FAS - people don't understand. I can be above and below average at the same time. My abilities can change from one minute, to another. Yes, sometimes I AM that bad. Othertimes I do things even a genius level couldn't manage. It's fluid.

So, my whole life I've had a lot of very exasperated people when I ask for clarification, or tell them I didn't understand. I went off and prayed about it for a while, and got an idea.

"Ron," I asked him "What color is the wall?"
"I don't know"
"Yes you do, you're not TRYING."
"Heather, I can't tell you! I'M BLIND!"
"No you're not. You just don't want to try. You could tell me if you want to, you're just using 'your disability' as an excuse". Then I walked off. I kept it very conversational.

I know he understood. He didn't like it, but he understood. I'll keep doing that as needed.

He can get very ugly at times, if I tell him, sometimes I am "that bad" (his words). In fact, I haven't shared this, but I grilled him before we got married. "Are you sure you can handle my disability? Are you sure? You say sometimes it's very hard for you to understand. You understand I have brain damage? Sometimes I won't be able to do the 'normal' things?   Are you sure you are up for this?" He swore again and again he could. So I married him.

Later, when he was angry at me, he told me "I only married you to stay out of a nursing home". I told him, that wouldn't have happened, and I made sure to tell him that before the wedding.   I told him I'd help him find a nice apartment and a caregiver, and we could split. No, he loved me, he wanted to spend his life with me... until he got mad.

Was he telling the truth? I don't know. That's between him and God. [shrug] I made a committment and I'll keep it. However, at the time Ron was well aware I am not a good housekeeper. The way he carries on sometimes I think he would have preferred the apartment with a caregiver!

Boy, that was ugly. Back to my day.

I let the whole conflict "Go". I know one day God will show Ron how much his words and attitudes about my disability, have hurt me. Why would I exaggerate my disability? Make myself as "dumber" than I was? What is the point? I find his viewpoint baffling. I hate admitting I don't understand, need clarification, or need help.

Times like that, I think God uses Ron to keep my eyes on God, instead. Unlike Ron, God has never failed me, let me down, said hateful things, or judged me.

I keep getting gloomy here, really not my intent.

I could really tell the herbal stuff I take is helping, I only had one hot flash at work. Normally I was having several a day.

People (my aunt in particular) talk a lot about how hard menopause is, for moods. I have to laugh and say, how would I know? I'm not stable to begin with!

Oh, speaking of stable, something funny. You know I take lithium. Lithium is really only used for bipolar disorder. My account was hacked the last time I used the "big" lab. I am looking at a "little" lab. I sent them an email, because they didn't have any prices for lithium level testing. I have yet to hear back! [laugh] Are they scared to stick a needle in a "crazy" woman? [snerk]

Oh, sometimes I could be so evil. "You might want to be careful, letting your kids in my yard. I have mental illness, and the hallucinations have been really bad lately."   EVIL!   Oh, I need to go repent of that, after I imagine the reaction for another minute or so.

Eek. I wouldn't want them moving. OK, I'll be good.

So, I did everything.. and there was a lot. Finally time to go. My favorite: the driver went in the wrong parking lot and drove around for a while, before figuring out the lady waving at him might be associated with his client. And Ron wonders why I go out early?

I am being ugly today. I don't feel ugly, either.

Got home. Took a nap, thank God, to the faint background tone of yet more barking. I hate it when it is quiet, like, now, and then when I want to sleep it's barktime. But I'm going to think about happy things.

It was really warm, humid, and pretty overcast. We're supposed to get rain tomorrow. When, I'm not sure. I'll have to check. I would like to do a day out if my feet are up for it.

Bubba just came running in through his cat door. I've told Ron, sometimes I wish I could put a Bubba-cam on the cat, and actually see what he does all day. I bet I'd get an eyeful.

Woke up, oh, I was tired, and we went to the bank. Did our banking. Our ride was going to be very late, so I got some fast food for us, and we ate it, outside, waiting on our ride. I took my (TAKE WITH FOOD) lithium.

It finally came, we got home. I did my God Time, and then worked in the garden. If I buy a plant, I like to get it set up as soon as possible. I had already planted the one Collard plant, I wanted to get the other. So, I put it in a large pot. I added some good organic fertilizer and it looks good. I made sure to water the other transplant, and my other little guys. Everyone looks wonderful.

I got filthy (I usually do), but had a good time figuring out where I'd situate various things. I'm having a fireant problem in garden bed one. The first treatment didn't kill them all. A couple of them got loose and bit me. Little expletives. I did some housekeeping type stuff, and checked on my seedlings.

I found my "Wild Garden Kale" seed packet, so I started a couple. I have a pretty limited garden - about 100 or so feet of sunny garden, a fig tree in a raised bed I constructed myself, and another 40 square feet in partial shade. Plus various pots I can put in "forbidden" garden areas - on top of the easments for underground utilities (CALL BEFORE YOU DIG).   The gas line goes smack down the middle of my backyard, and it's not deep. I can put potted plants, in big pots, on top of the ground and grab that good sun, without having a disaster. I've done that for years.

I also plan to start some "Purple Peacock" broccoli from the same source. The Calabrese broccoli did so well I'm definitely growing it again. I planted it a few years ago, completely ignored it, and it kept producing into the summer (something broccoli does not do in my climate).

About the only urgent need is, ideally, a new watering can. My current one is workable but not great. The "good" hose had a spectacular blowout - I don't think it ever forgave me for the freeze last year.   Current hose is about 20 feet, and my garden STARTS 20 feet from the house. Hence, the watering can.

Eventually, I will need to put down some more weed blocker pathway fabric. It has worked very well, but needs renewal every year or so. That's not urgent. I'll get the stuff, maybe after I get paid, and then lay it when I get manic again.

You can tell I had fun.

Ron was pretty horrified the other morning. He came into the bathroom during my shower and we chatted. I like it when he does that. At a couple of points in the shower, I turned off the water, started bailing saved water into my bucket, and then resumed the shower. Wet down, save the water. Rinse off, save the water... no.

Ron said he was putting his foot down, I didn't "have" to do that, and I "always kept the water bill low". So, I take my shower, turn it off periodically, don't save that water... but, when I turn on the water and I'm waiting for it to heat, I am running that water into a bucket. A gallon or two every day will add up.

I have a bad feeling this drought may last, so I'm being stingy with my water use. Besides, we're still making payments on that water line break back in August.

A little breeze

2011-11-06T16:35:00.000-06:00

I had a lovely day.

As you may know, Ron likes to help with transportation. However, while he is a very patient man I am not inclined to make him ride around for hours, wait another hour while I shop, and then ride around for more hours.

So, yesterday I asked him if he'd like to do breakfast at our taqueria. It is right on the bus line, and the restaurant offers very cheap and delicious meals. He loved the idea. It saved me plenty of walking to the bus stop, and we got a good cheap meal.

So, I got up early, did my God Time. Sat down and figured out what I would like to do (I went to a feed store). Bagged up some candy. Waited on the ride.

The ride arrived, and we got breakfast. Ron's ride home arrived, and he left.

As I was walking across the parking lot, I encountered a very frustrated man, standing next to his wrecked car. He was talking to a police officer. It was obvious someone had rear ended him and more obvious it would cost thousands to repair. As I passed him, I gave him a bag of candy with a scripture booklet.

I felt very useful. Got to the bus stop and waited. Did my transit thing. Took a while to get there. Then I missed the stop, and had to walk a few blocks.

Finally got there. It is a fun place. They sell animals, feed, seed, and plants.

I looked at the animals first. Awwed over the cute black kitten. Bubba would hate me. I enjoyed looking at the birds, and the doves were so noisy I had "them" call Ron. I called him, and put the phone by the cage. He loved it.

They didn't have any kale plants (I had wanted some kale), but they did have a lot of collards. I usually go with Georgia collards. They are great, pretty indestructible. However, they did have some "Vates", so I got one, and a Georgia. I looked around at the herbs, etc, but nothing screamed "buy me".

Then I looked at the seeds. They had Sugar Snaps (those are a staple at the feed stores), so I got 2 packets, one for me, one for my aunt and uncle. They are really easy and fun to grow. I love to eat them, and a small portion costs about $4 at the grocery store. I can eat all I can grow (and I couldn't keep up with a 4 foot row, last time), for a very low price.

They did have some Siberian Kale, so I got a "small" - which has enough seed to feed the entire city. Wow.

I have considered buying some Fava Beans. I have never eaten them, but they are supposed to be really good for the soil, can be eaten like a green bean, AND if I chop up the old plant and dig it into the soil, it eliminates tomato diseases. When I saw a packet, I put it in my basket. I'll share them with, if they're interested.

And that was it. I got what I had pretty much planned to get, no more, no less. I remembered everything I wanted, and got it. I came home.

Ron was happy to hear me walk in the door. I decided to go play in the garden for a while (it is not large, about 200 square feet). I did a lot of weeding, spread some mulch, and trimmed a bush near one of my garden beds. I planted the Georgia Collard, near the fence.

It's the soccer-playing fence, with the ball coming over now and then. I looked at the frail little plant and thought... hmmm. I got a tomato cage and put it over the plant, so if a ball comes over it will bounce off the cage before harming the plant. Smart. Since we are so droughty, I made a nice "dish" around the plant to hold water. I must have spent 2 hours out there.

I had a wonderful time. I need a shower, now.

Tomorrow I need to get up at 3 to get the donuts. That's pretty early. But today, I had a great time. It was lovely weather, too, nice and warm, overcast, and just a little breeze.

Something to watch

2011-11-04T18:25:00.000-05:00

I spent some time in the garden today. Considering the drought, and my neglect, it did pretty well.

I just needed to do some minimal weeding - the drought ensured the weeds never got a foothold. I need to get some organic matter and layer that on the soil, I need to get a hose, and I need about 10 bags of mulch, but I know a nice local nursery who'll deliver for me.

I was a little worried about my graywater watering program. I wondered if the water might hurt the plants; they love it. They are looking so happy, and it helps me conserve water. If the drought continues I expect they will ban outdoor watering before long.

That means I can't turn on the tap to water, but I can recycle the graywater onto my plants. They sure don't mind.

My red kale, Georgia Collards, assorted chard, and a parsley plant are all coping pretty well. I went through my seed box and made a few plans, I plan to start some broccoli and greens.

The broccoli was really easy and fun back in 2009. It kept going well through the next summer, with massive neglect and minimal watering. The greens are good anytime. I just need to be ruthless when harvesting, or they go bad.

I had a great time outside; my only gripe was a lot of barking. Apparently someone's dog had gotten out, and every dog in the subdivision had a lot to say on the subject! I'm not a fan of dogs.

Ron and I had a good cuddle/talk this morning, I did some gardening and my God Time (not in that order), and then we had a fast-food meal for lunch. We came home, I did some more gardening, and then housework.

It was a nice, quiet, day. The weather was lovely, warm and sunny, but not too hot.

I started feeding the birds again, too. Sure enough, the thieving squirrel showed up, stealing sunflower seeds. Oh, well. It'll give the cat something to watch.

Pill time

2011-11-03T20:46:00.000-05:00

I'm pretty groggy right now, so please forgive any incoherence or typos.

I slept pretty well, considering. I think a dog might have been dumped in our neighborhood, the dog that lives behind us has been rather agitated at night. Bubba-cat was all cute in the bed with me, so it wasn't him.

I love sleeping with the cat. Something about the big cuddly lump all warm and soft, just puts me out. I tend to have better dreams, too. If I wake up, I can reach over for some quick petting before I go back to sleep.

Anyway, overslept, caught up on God Time later. We went to Walmart. I got a great deal on some clearance "Halloween" candy that appears perfectly everyday; great for handouts. I got a couple bags' worth. I noticed they had already started stocking the Christmas candy.

I love to hand out some kind of chocolate, but I can't if the temperatures are above 70 or so, they melt. I might be able to do it if I weren't on public transit, but whatever I hand out has to survive ambient temperatures.

My pills were just weird. The phenergan generic only cost $7, so I went ahead and got it. That's 30 migraines' worth. God forbid I need it. It turns out the "prescriber" (a medical resident), wrote ONE month refills, times 3, for my medication. That means an extra $10 a month.

However, I could use a little help with the budget; and breaking it up into 3 payments could be useful. I'll make sure to phone in the refill before I need it.

Later, at home, I read the inserts. Turns out one of my medications doesn't like decongestants. Whoo! Good thing to know! I don't take decongestants, anyway, because they trigger mania. The rest was all pretty standard. They had so many pregnancy warnings I was glad Ron's fixed. If something happens to him, I'm getting fixed.

We came home, later on went to Starbucks. We got stuck there a while, but it wasn't bad. I made sure our empty cups were obvious. About the time I got out my Kindle, the ride arrived.

I'm glad I can do the sample feature for the Kindle. I had downloaded a sample of a highly-rated zombie book. I managed to read 5 pages before I gave up. Ick. The author made it completely boring. I am so, so, glad, I didn't buy it. In the meantime, "Zombiestan" was so good I bought it after reading 2 sample pages (the sample was a lot longer).

I didn't have enough time to make my bank deposit today, I'll have to do it next week (they don't start clearing until the 13th). After we got home, I took a nap.

I had a profoundly disturbing nightmare, just like I did yesterday. I may skip the naps for a bit.

I got up right before "Wild Kingdom" next door started playing. [laugh] I saw the flying soccer ball a few times, too, along with the father fetching it out of "my" yard.

I was feeling very ugly. I realized it was pill time. It was a little early, but it was clearly pill time. I just felt so hostile and irritated, one of those horrible mixed episodes with a big slap of depression on top. Yuck.

I had a small pity party for a while, and then had a thought. We have about 300 million Americans. About 1% of the population, anywhere, is bipolar (worldwide). That means, I and 2,999,999 other Americans are suffering from bipolar disorder. None of us will "recover" - we can just go into remission. We are all sucking up horrendous side effects, headaches, nausea, fatigue, brain fog. We are eaten by our own minds, on a regular and ongoing basis. We endure, and try to keep it from affecting other people.

God knows, I'm sure not alone. I felt a lot better.

I ate something I liked, took my medication, did my God Time, and by the time I finished I felt a lot better.

3 million. That's a lot. We're a very large family.

Video Blog!

2011-11-02T20:11:00.001-05:00

Getting manic

2011-11-01T21:07:00.000-05:00

Funny, normally I get depressed after a handout. Getting manic, enough that I got on my own nerves and realized I had to embark on my "getting manic" protocol.

If you're bipolar, talk to doc about it "If I'm getting manic, what do you want me to do?" My doc says "Catch it before it becomes a big wave."

I was annoyed, because I have all this energy tonight, and I need to go to bed. Because I've stayed up later, I'll have to get up later tomorrow - boy sleep deprivation will send me right off the cliff!

I was a little mad at myself, like I chose to become manic, and I finally said "Hey! If I were vomiting right now, what would I do? Would I be nice to myself?" The answer, of course, is yes. So, I'll be kind to myself, remind myself I have a physical illness, and sometimes it isn't a treat even when I don't feel "bad".

Right now, I feel like a drank a whole lot of coffee.

Which led me to something else. The day I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I presented at the emergency room, a mess. I was clearly having a mixed episode with rapid cycling. I was sobbing, and talking 10 million miles an hour.

The technician, who diagnosed me (I wish I could find him and give him a hug), told me I had bipolar disorder. I was so eager when I found out I could take medication. He actually laughed, and said he knew I'd do fine.

Then he went looking for Ron, leaving me alone in the exam room. I had some time to think about the probable reaction - "Your wife is insane". I knew I'd run like hell.

The tech came back, said I could go. I went out to the waiting room and found Ron. He gave me a hug. I told him "I have bipolar disorder".

"I know" he said kindly, "Let's go get some dinner."

The Bear Claw

2011-11-01T18:41:00.000-05:00

I bagged up 120 bags of candy for the kids.

I had the pumpkin in the window. I had the porch light on. My neighbor, for whatever reason, moved his van.

About 7:30, the invasion began. Huge packs of children, demanding candy. The candy was a huge hit, and one child said we had "The best candy". Good. No one freaked out over "The Life of Jesus" activity book, or scripture booklet.

Some of my favorite kids: one mother brought her two boys, about 12 and 14. The older boy was clearly autistic. He kept trying to get in the house and sit on my couch. I told Ron, "Our home must have a good energy". I got everyone set up with candy and Mom dragged him off.

The alien, about 6 feet tall, wearing a mask. I opened the door and he stood there, silently - probably gaping at the bear. I said "Oh! An alien!" He stood there "Do aliens like candy?" He held out the bag. I gave him his candy and he ambled off.

Ron came out of the man cave and sat in his wheelchair, talking to the kids. We handed out a total of 115 bags of candy, to children. I handed out a couple more to adults.

The kids LOVED the bear. The kept petting him, feeling his claws, and poking at his eyes. I told Ron "If the bear has any sentience, he loves Halloween."

Today, I rolled the bear off to his designated corner of the living room, off to wait for next year.

It's always fun to get the repeater kids, they are so happy to see the bear again.

Why don't you go to counseling, Heather?

2011-11-01T18:34:00.000-05:00

Today was a very long day. I got up early. I slept pretty well and actually woke up about 5 minutes before the alarm. The cat was curled up, next to me, in bed. A nice start.

However, I had an appointment to see Doc. He is crosstown. I knew it would be at least 2 long rides. I brought a 6-pack of Diet Dr Pepper, the remaining candy, and our coats. It was pretty chilly.

I was just a little manic, the level I like. Our ride was a little late. I think the other client had delayed him, or maybe the traffic. He picked us up and we had a long ride to "The Center". "The Center" used to be known as "The Center for the Retarded". Awful name, huh? Our passenger kept waving his arms around and "vocalizing". He seemed pretty happy, though.

I've told Ron this, I think one enviable trait about the developmentally disabled, "slow", whatever you call "them" - they live, completely, in the present. As a result, they are often very cheerful. They don't brood on the past, they don't worry about the future, they just live entirely in the moment. I think that's worth emulating.

The "Center" was over by the mental health intake office (shudder). Oh, that was a nightmare, trying to get into the system. A whole day of my life, down the drain, AND THEN they lost everything. [shudder] I'll come back to this.

We finally got over to the office, and we headed in to see Doc. Ron was on the phone, dealing with the bank, so I left him to it and headed in to the office. He had 2 residents with him, on rotation.

Medical residents have a 6-week "rotation" on psychiatry. Basically, the teaching doc tries to show them the spectrum of the profession, and hopefully tempt them into choosing it later on.

I walked in, and said "Oh, students!" They asked me if I "minded" if they sat in, and I said absolutely not, when Doc retires who is going to write my prescriptions? I talked a little about my illness, symptoms, and medication. I was in the middle of explaining how 2 bupropions, if taken daily for more than a day or so, will cause me to have hallucinations and paranoia, so I only take 2 if I "can't get myself into the shower".

Doc came in, we said hey, and I gave him some candy (I'd already gotten the students). I told him I wasn't having big manias, very small ones, a little manic at the moment. Doc: "I noticed". [grin] I told him about the herbal stuff I take for the hot flashes, and he got the Herbal PDR I gave him to look it up! One of the students wanted to quiz me on side effects, so I told him "Trouble with word finding and some brain fog, mild tremor, and a lot of nausea"

Doc told them "Heather is very stable" - and I took that as a huge compliment, and he talked again about the frustration of patients who treat lithium like a pain killer. "I'm better now, I don't need it".

He told me I needed another blood test, and ordered me to get a pelvic (I had to mention the hot flashes). All in all, a good visit, got all my pills, and off I went.

We met my aunt, for lunch, like we do. She had my second cousin with her.

I told her about my checkup, and she asked me why I didn't go to counseling. I went with the primary reason: I have had bad experiences with counseling.

I don't see, how someone could look at me for hours on end, for weeks and years on end, and miss the 'bipolar". I wasn't exactly subtle with my symptoms, but they were so eager to attribute it to "post traumatic" "teenage acting out" or "caregiver burnout". I mean, I was TEXTBOOK.

As a result, I have a pretty hearty disdain for most counseling. I was, however, told by one professional that I am "remarkably self-aware" - so I'll take that - counseling certainly helped me become more self-aware.

But take my problems: brain damage. Counseling is not going to fix that. I have come to terms with my maiming, and, like my brain-damaged "siblings", strive to live in the present if at all possible.

Problem: bipolar. Well, I can take my pills, and deal with it. Or, I can refuse to take my medication and have a lot more problems and get eaten alive by demons in my head. I just thank God I HAVE medication. Next?

Problem: caregiving. Well, I could leave him. Or I could stay. I can set boundaries and keep them strong. I can and do set limits on what I'm willing to do. If I didn't, Ron would have me up all night looking up lyrics for every song he's ever heard, swear he'd remember them, promptly forget, and ask me to search again. I also have designated times for myself, where he doesn't bother me (like during my God Time).

Problem: alcohol. I refuse to help him with anything related to alcohol - looking up liqueur recipes on the internet, buying it, reading the "proof", even going with him to the liquor store "And then we could go to eat after, you don't have to go in, or I can drop you at the store you like." Nope.

Problem: money. Well, we have enough to keep a roof over our heads. Ron worries a lot about things like the property tax, insurance, etc. God knows, if I let myself, I'd get eaten up with worry about things that could go wrong, needing repair, with the house. I opt out of that worry; it's not productive, and harmful. If needed, I'll get another job, somewhere.

Which brings me to the second point. I love my aunt, but she and I are from different spectrums. Her home is paid off. She has insurance. I do not.

Who would pay for it? I sure can't afford the going rates.

Let's go back to the county mental health clinic - they have a support group, if I felt I needed it, and I didn't mind a long bus ride. That's free. I could go to Al-anon. They have a lot of dual-diagnosis stuff - most alcoholic spouses have problems with depression, from what I have read. They would be happy to have me - if I didn't mind riding 4 hours on the bus, on my day off. And that's the CLOSE one. I also didn't have much in common with the other gals.

I would walk in, carrying my backpack and wearing my thrift-store coat, and they would just kind of gape at me. Awkward.

Lastly, I don't really think counseling could help in any appreciable way. I just need to take my pills, get enough sleep, walk away from Ron if he is ugly or drunk, take my vitamins, be nice to myself, don't wallow when depressed, stay interested in various activities so I don't rot my brain, go to work and do it well, and have my God Time.

It doesn't matter

2011-10-30T17:33:00.000-05:00

I'm not depressed today, praise God, so I feel pretty confident exploring an ugly subject. I feel like I'm an explorer, constantly looking under rocks and logs, as I explore my own mind.

I have mentioned them before, the people next door. As near as I can tell, they have a couple of young (20-ish) men, an old man, two girls, a young woman, an older woman (about my age) and her live-in-boyfriend. All living in a 4 bedroom. It must get pretty crowded, they only have 2 full baths. They have at least 4 cars.

A fifth, in fact, was recently "totaled". It looks like it ran into a pole, the whole front end is wrapped around an invisible point of impact. It stayed in the driveway for a month or two, then left. So, we have gray truck, green truck, gray SUV, and the blue van. The driveway is large enough to park all the vehicles.

The blue van is driven by one of the young men. I don't like him, he came to my house one day asking about a letter left on his van, and he was very smirky about Ron. I politely told him my husband had a lot of health problems, and we did not write the letter. We objected, I told him, to the dog.

Oh, the dog. If you look at last fall, up to about May, a lot of blogs about the dog. Basically, the young woman wanted "something to love me". She got a very energetic border collie/dalmation mix. Both dogs are extremely high-energy breeds that require a lot of personal time.

Her concept of dog parenting, stick the dog in the yard - feed it. Pet it for a couple minutes every few days. When the dog got out, they refused to fix the fence, the dog did a lot of damage to the fence, and kept us up with the constant barking - the only way the dog ever got attention.

I think the dog felt, "OK, if I have to bark for 12 hours to get someone out here, I'll do it." Ron had a different approach, he would go next door and bang on the door, in the middle of the night, for extended periods of time. He wanted them to put the dog in the garage. He also made a lot of calls to the police.

Eventually, they gave the dog to the humane society. I don't feel bad for her; the owner didn't even have a "gerbil" level of commitment to her pet. A lot better for doggie to go to some homeschooling mom with 7 kids, on a couple of acres out in the country. Or someone who did agility training or something.

Anyway, I try to pick my battles. Last week, you can look, seemed like 10 million kids in my yard "looking for my ball". Why? Only God knows. At some future point, Ron and I will ask the neighbor, if you have a party, please run some netting to keep the balls out of our yard. That's the other side of the yard...

I was fairly annoyed yesterday when we got back from Walmart, to find the ugly blue van, in the only street parking spot, in front of our home. I thought it was very rude. The paratransit vehicle blocked traffic on both sides as we unloaded. Today, it's still here - and some of the other vehicles are missing.

Maybe they went back "home" for a visit, and asked Van Boy to park on the street so they can get their spots back. I could guess all day long, but I find it very aggravating - like a splinter, to see THAT in front of my house. It's a piece of crap, with the cliche "bumper hanging on by a coat hanger".

I know this, tomorrow morning we have a 4 AM pickup. Things are going to be rather "tight" if Van Boy doesn't move, and we get a large van.

That's where I sit down and have a talk with myself. Does this really matter? Is the van barking all night, tearing up the fence, and defecating in my garden? Does it have loud parties every night? Does it tear boards off the fence? Does it climb on the gate, breaking it? Does it try to run me over when I go for a run? Does it "sic" a vicious animal on me during my runs? Does it throw used condoms in my yard? Is it a vicious animal? Does it damage my property?

No, it's not. I have endured all the rest and then some. On the "bad neighbor" spectrum, this is nothing. In fact, I can laugh if I push myself a little.

I know I have a remarkable tendency to become very paranoid and scary. If something minor like this happens, it can grow and grow in my head to monumental proportions. It can overcome every other thought, as I brood on the "injustice" and "persecution". So, I watch for it. I am extremely careful about taking my pills, too.

My maternal grandmother is my boogeyman. One thing about families, if you look back at an event, and ask 3 people about it, you'll get 4 different viewpoints. I find it remarkable that every family member, who speaks of my maternal grandmother, says the same thing: paranoid, isolated, never forgave an "injustice", hostile, accusatory, demanding, and all the things I see in my own head.

It scares me, and rightly so. I don't want to end up like her, dying alone. I don't want to be feared and hated. I don't want to be the person who cuts off contact with her only child. When I'm cremated, I don't want people screaming "Keep those ashes out of my house".

So, I look at the ugly blue "splinter", outside my house, and tell myself, "It doesn't matter".

The plants will like it

2011-10-29T19:26:00.000-05:00

I'm listening to "War of the Minds" by Flame. It's a great song.

Happily, I think I'm in a "manic" phase - which these days is very low key. I feel a little happier than "not depressed". I have more interest in things, and more energy. And, that's it. These days.

Yeah, it's not as "fun" as some of my old manias - my favorite was the time I was out in the yard, I dug a 4x4x3 foot deep garden bed in just a couple of hours! [laugh] I do try, if I get a "good" one, to "point" it at some, useful, project.

However, the goal, I guess, is not having them at all. The curse of bipolar: it's so fun to be up, so addictive... and so dangerous. [shrug] No one wants depression, no one. The manias are the danger.

So, I got a fair amount done: I figured out a heating problem. I hate being cold in the morning when I get out of bed. I don't want to run the heater all night. Ron doesn't want a large bill.

The other day, lying in bed, I got it: put a small utility heater (like the one Ron has in the man cave), ON A TIMER! That's it!

Today, I got both the heater (12 amps) and the timer (15 amps - so safe), at Walmart for about $25 and tax. I tested it, set it to run for a half hour only. It worked great.

I am going to love this so much on Monday morning, when I get up at 3 (!) AM to get my deliveries. I can set the timer the night before, to start about 20 minutes before my alarm. By the time I get up, my room and maybe the bathroom (I have a bathroom door in my room) will be pleasant. And, once I'm up, it turns off. I'm so tickled.

The rest of the time, I don't really care about the temperature. I can put on a sweater and be fine. Ron keeps his (small) man cave nice and toasty with another small heater. I've noticed, too much heat will trigger a hot flash - and I don't like them! The thermostat can be a lot colder this winter, and save some money.

You may remember my blog, a few months back, about "owning" my house. How I tend to act like I'm visiting my house instead of owning it. When I was in Galveston for my birthday, I had the thought "I love coming to this motel - they have wonderful shower heads. Why don't I look into getting one for the house?"

Today, I did that, too. I found a nice shower head, for $10.

A huge factor in my decision: it has a pause button. I lived in a home, in CA, during an extremely severe drought. I remember one year we got a total of 11 inches rain. For the year. Dad bought shower heads that had pause buttons. Once I got wet, I'd hit the pause button, lather up, and then turn the water on to rinse. Dad also had a system to save "gray water" from the showers for reuse in the garden.

We are in the midst of an extremely severe drought. I thought, both of those ideas have a very practical application here. While I showered this morning, I thought, I could use 1/3 of the water if I had a pause button.

My "new head" does that. And the new bucket I bought can help catch gray water for the garden. For instance, turning on the water, waiting for it to heat up; that water can go in the bucket for certain. From what I read, anything but the shampoo/conditioner rinse water can be used on garden plants. Plain soap, apparently, breaks down pretty quickly.

I venture to say, depending on my mood, I may or may not reuse gray water in the garden. When I'm manic, like now, it's "easy". When I'm depressed, I'm hard pressed to climb in the shower to bathe, much less play environmentalist.

I'm sure the plants will like it.

It did for me

2011-10-28T21:01:00.000-05:00

It's been interesting, getting used to my "new" computer (reconditioned, Mom's former computer), operating system, and applications. So far I have to say I have yet to figure out the video blogs, I may fire up the old one for that. I made one on this the other day, but had problems with the upload (very slow long upload, it would have taken, literally, almost a day).

On other fronts, I am always praying for everyone - that includes you. I have a list of prayer requests I pray for myself, and one I pray for Ron. Happily, I am seeing some answers.

I remind myself, when things are harsh, that harsh times keep my eyes on God. Let me tell you, nothing focuses my faith like a crisis. I don't want crisis. I want, a nice boring life. I want to know what kind of day I'll have, three months in advance.

I believe God uses crisis, in my life, to get my eyes off "whatever" and get them back on Him. When things are so bad or hopeless only He can help; I trust Him and He does.

I thought it was pretty funny today; my phone rang. I didn't know the number so I rejected the call and sent it to voicemail. A minute later, Ron's phone rang. My psychiatrist had called, asking if they could reschedule.

Apparently, something has come up on my appointment day. That's fine, I'll just go in Tuesday.

He is a great doctor. He takes patients, like me, without insurance. I pay $50 a visit, a couple times a year. That's it. He understands the concept of a tight budget, and affordable medication. Happily, my medication is very cheap, only $30 a month - generics.

I've never gotten the whole "It has to be a name brand" concept. A molecule is a molecule. I'm going to take the generic! I've never had a problem with generics.

In fact, it was a name brand medication that almost killed me, two years ago. It was a name brand antidepressant, no generics yet... and I took it for almost 3 years. Monday I was fine, Tuesday I passed out and almost died due to allergy (you can look it up, August of '09). My antipsychotic is another good example. I could not afford it at $140 a month - name brand.

When it went generic, it dropped to $15 a month. THAT, I can afford. When I first got my medication, Doc gave me a months' worth of samples. I was given a name brand lithium.

It worked. So does the $3 a month generic lithium carbonate. I like the pretty pink capsules, too. Much prettier than that brown name brand! Lithium carbonate is lithium carbonate.

And I've ONLY taken the Bupropion (aka Wellbutrin) as a generic. Now, I admit I had a lot of problems with the yellow brand - I don't know who made it but I was pretty queasy. Mylan makes a nice pink Bupropion and it works great. The morning pills look so girly, a pink lithium, and an equally pink antidepressant!

The night time pills are a little more interesting, a burgundy antipsychotic, a red antioxidant (over the counter - my skin likes a vitamin A and E), pink lithium, and some white cal-mag-zincs.

You may know this, but I have written fan emails to all the manufacturers of my medication; they help me to have a fantastic quality of life. I think the least I can do is say thank you. I hope they put the letter up on the message board for the employees to read.

So, it's always fun to see Doc. I heard recently the popular anti anxiety pill is available as a generic, and very cheap. It's tempting to ask for it, but I don't want to play with things that carry a risk of addiction. I have an 80% risk of addiction just with the FAS, I don't want to get stuck in a dark place.

Besides, I think my anxiety isn't that bad. I used to have horrible panic attacks, but the lithium has done a great job. It's not supposed to work that way, but it did for me.

I'll see my aunt, too. We always try to meet up and have lunch.

2011-10-27T18:27:00.000-05:00

Meteor photo.

Working on concepts for the volcano, and the rapture one. Something along the lines of Jesus pulling someone out of a wheelchair.

Orange Jellyfish

2011-10-26T20:36:00.000-05:00

So, lest you think I'm being eaten alive by past traumas, I'll tell you about my day.

It's true, though. I do have some post-traumatic issues from the accident. One day I was in really bad shape, I was back in that ICU waiting room, it was horrible, even with Ron beside me. I FINALLY figured out the warehouse club had started using a "new" hand soap. The same soap used by the ICU - I had to scrub, and glove up, every time I went in to see Ron. The scent is unmistakable.

Now, I can remind myself "The soap will trigger bad memories", but sometimes, like today, it gets shoved in my face and I can't avoid it. Doc says one of my medications is also used for PTSD, so I'm covered.

Anyway, I didn't sleep well. Finally got up and skipped my God Time (He waited). Ate, went to work. No headache thank God.

I figured out I had forgotten to put my lithium in the AM part of my pill organizer. Explains why I've had such a tough week! Today's lithium had me stupid. I was walking around in a fog, thinking, a fog is a lot better than all those sharp edges I've had.

Ron said I was useful; good to hear. You know what happened after work, while waiting to come home.

I ate and took a nap. Woke up, wrote the blog, then decided I needed to take care of myself. I did some cooking, made pumpkin pudding. Then I did my God Time. I had a tremendous urge to paint; so I decided to work on the meteor one.

It was kind of funny, my crayon version resembled an orange jellyfish. [snort] Not a big fan of crayons - but they at least get the concept out on paper.

So, I'm working on it. Dark skies. Even the grass is dark. I'm approaching the meteor in stages. Get some down, let it dry... get some more. I'm liking the tail. It's progressing.

Once I get the meteor finished, I need to get the figure praying, and then do the cross up in the pearlescent clouds. I should finish it in a few days.

"Ron Update"

2011-10-26T14:47:00.000-05:00

This one will be brutal.

I'm going to give a little background, and then talk about the worst day of my life. Hop in my time machine, we're going back to 2003.

Ron and I had been managing two businesses, a deli and the vending. The deli was open nights, and all the vending deliveries came during the day; which meant Ron and I worked a lot of 16 hour days with no overtime. I remember, Christmas 2002 was fantastic because I actually got 2 days off in a row.

We had a hard time finding "quality" help (translated - people who understood food safety and wouldn't steal or give away the store), so I worked a swing shift in the deli, in addition to helping Ron with deposits and vending business every morning.

Ron walked to work every morning, a little under 2 miles. He always crossed the same street. It's a busy street, but he crossed safely, every day, for almost 2 years. Prior to that, he had always walked to work for 30 years, including crossing other, busy, streets.

We had called the City of Houston about the streetlight; it was out and Ron warned them; a terrible accident could happen if you don't get this fixed. And he kept walking to work.

The deli lost money, consistently. People had a hard time understanding, it doesn't matter if you get 10 customers every 3 hours, that can't meet payroll, much less meet the cost of goods. Ron kept begging the state to close the deli, but they kept refusing. It was someone's pet project.

We couldn't even afford a business checking account, and we had to pay the vendors cash. So, when Ron left the house that morning he had a lot of cash in his backpack.

In the meantime, a guy at work, named Roy. He drove a piece of heavy equipment in the plant, and got into a lot of near-miss type accidents. He just isn't a good driver. He worked nights. He had 5 little kids at home.

Roy was in a big hurry when he left work that day, and accelerated as he approached the red light. He "blew" the light and hit my husband, who was crossing the street. Ron had the light. Roy did not.

Ron suffered many injuries on impact, a badly broken leg that required surgery, massive road rash from being dragged about a block down the street, broken ribs, ruptured subclavian artery, lacerated kidney, and a punctured lung. He suffered massive damage to his brain, both a "twist" DIA injury, and multiple bruises (to the brain), on "all" lobes, from the actual impact (coup-contracoup injury). He actually lay, dead, in the road, until paramedics revived him.

The officer sent to investigate the accident robbed my husband of the cash (including my rent money) in the backpack, and phonied up the accident report. Ron was crossing south. The driver was going east. Ron was hit on the right side. All adds up, right? That's what REALLY happened. The way the officer wrote it up, Ron was going north - which he wouldn't have because that was AWAY from work. The only way Ron could have been injured that way, is if he'd run into the street BACKWARDS. You can bet Officer "B" is on the prayer list.

He also came to the hospital the next day and said the accident was MY fault, because I "let" Ron out of the house unaccompanied. It's a good thing I was so tired when I met him, of I'd have an assault charge on my record.

Even though Roy clearly broke the white cane law - ran a red light, etc... Officer B let him off. He didn't even get a ticket for killing my husband. Lovely.

A couple years later, I was out on the loading dock, waiting on my milk man. Roy came around a corner, going too fast, and almost hit me. Guess we didn't learn our lesson.

The only consolation, for me, was the fact that Roy's auto insurance paid up - the hospital got $10K, the lawyer got $8K, and we got $2K to pay off the credit card. Yeah, that's it. 2 thousand dollars for a lifetime in a wheelchair.

Hard NOT to be bitter. Especially when Roy is walking around, perfectly fine; and Ron is not. Especially when everyone at work acted like Roy was the victim, and Ron just leapt out and assaulted his car. I don't care if he's a "nice" guy; he killed my husband. I don't talk about the accident at work; I get too intense when the apologists start defending the guy.

I did have some small satisfaction; Ron totaled the truck. Roy has now bought a very similar-looking truck. Ick. I also heard he was unable to drive for a couple years due to sky-high insurance. Good. If one of your drivers runs over a blind man because he ran a red light; you'd better charge him a high rate!

I work, very hard, on forgiving him. The "nice guy" was calling me every day in the ICU waiting room. He did feel terrible. Ron always remarks the guy took a week off work. He had asked me to call his house if anything major happened.

When I finally got (encouraging) MRI results back, I called his house. Mrs Roy answered and got a major attitude with me (she's actually the reason I pushed Ron to sue); she never wanted to hear from me again. They didn't know any "Ron" and didn't care how he was doing. Very, very, ugly. So I hung up and never called again.

I had set up the answering machine, I would record a new message every day with the "Ron update". I gave the number to everyone, and even the sandwich lady was calling every day for her updates. When Ron was "sort of" talking, I had him grunt a message out for everyone; I assume Roy heard about the Ron update and just called that after his wife got so ugly.

Now, I have to interject. I pray for Roy, his wife, his family, every day. I pray for Officer B. I pray for other people who have hurt me, and Ron, but they're at the top of the list. God commands me to pray for them, and forgive them.

Normally, I think I do OK.

Today, however, I came out of work. I sit at the "bus stop" and wait on our paratransit ride. We have multiple driveways and new drivers usually get confused, and enter the wrong parking lot. If I'm out there, I can wave, and get them over to us. I wait, until the ride arrives. Then I call Ron and he comes staggering out of the door, and climbs aboard.

That's the way we do it. Works very well, has for several years now.

Until I came out and saw Roy and his wife sitting in a pickup truck, very similar to what destroyed my husband's mobility. They were having a romantic picnic lunch in the car. And they had parked in front of the bus stop. I HAD to look at them every time I scanned the street for our driver.

I just boiled inside as I saw them chatting, laughing. They had the use of their entire bodies. They could drive, walk, and raise both arms above their head without assistance. They didn't NEED a wheelchair, ever.

And my husband does, because this stupid, selfish, bastard ran a red light because "I was in a hurry".

The old Heather, prior to medication, would have gotten up and asked them to move, telling them I was the wife of the man he maimed. Instead, I opted to call my aunt and chat with her as I kept looking for our ride.

I did have quite a bit of satisfaction; when the "Metrolift" came into the parking lot - they acted like it was some kind of Molotov cocktail. Roy bolted into the building (and encountered Ron coming out). The wife ran out of there like someone set her tailpipe on fire.

So they feel guilty; at least. They don't LIKE to see what he did to my husband. Good. I hope they choke on it.

It was Him

2011-10-25T18:43:00.000-05:00

Well, Allen, I had plenty of time to play with some concepts while I waited for my video blog to load. The video blog didn't work, I don't know why. Still getting used to new OS and applications.

I got some concepts down for the meteor and volcano. When I get them painted, I'll put up some photos.

Slept in today, woke up with a DREADFUL headache. I never got rid of it. I took some execdrin and got some nasty hot flashes... having one right now.

I KNOW I feel terrible when I don't even finish my soda. And I didn't eat anything weird! It's really frustrating.

OK, physically feel terrible, mood - really irritable depression, hopeless, frustrated. Just not a good day. About the only good thing I could say, Ron gave me $20 and the cat slept on his little bed, next to mine. It's nice to see Bubba all cozy on "his" bed (which is actually a storage box).

Agh. My head is really killing me.

Ron's been in a pretty dark mood, himself. Not surprising we had an argument about taking out the trash.

I decided I would try and make a good day of it, after all. (Ron is on a tirade right now about God) I left the house, and decided to go to the Christian bookstore.

Due to my foot problems, depression, and lack of funds, I hadn't been in a while. I don't want to be a "downer", I'd rather sequester myself.

A very nice lady had sent me some money for "ministry", and I had just the thing in mind: a case of Bibles. I could see them, tucked into zip locks with a nice handful of candy. If I bought a case of Bibles, I'd have enough cash left for the candy.

So, I took my handcart (took a while to extract it from storage) and left the house. I had to come back a couple of times. I forgot my debit card. I forgot my backpack. And I needed some bug spray. [sigh] Missed that bus.

Got the bus. Realized I had a horrible mood, and the headache was back. I decided to stop at a McDonalds and get something to eat. I ate, took my pills. I went with naproxen instead of the caffeine stuff. It's not working very well.

Had a guy come up to me, begging. Got me thinking about maybe packing lunches with a scripture booklet. I like it, need to pray on it, though.

Caught my buses and got to the store. Got my case of Bibles and they even put them in the handcart. It was obvious I had a lot of identical Bibles, in the cart.

On my way home, 3 people expressed a lot of interest in the Bibles and each got one. I'm glad God could use me.

God knows, it was Him and not me. Me? I was just putting one foot in front of another. I will be praying for them, of course.

Got home, put up the handcart. Ron was asleep. Took out the trash, watered the foundation, and poisoned the fire ants nesting by Ron's chair. Boy, he'd have been furious.

He was pretty upset when I told him. I told him I will do "chair checks" every day for him.

Let me put on my martyr/victim hat: and I did all of this with a HORRIBLE headache! [taking hat off]

Ron woke up; in a bad, bitter, mood. UGH. And this was my day off. I hope tomorrow is better.

I know, none of this is major, but sometimes the little aggravations, piled up, can seem more frustrating than a major problem. When faced with a major problem, I tackle it head-on and go into fighter mode. The little ones, I tend to roll over.

I'm working on that.

I hope you had a better day.

I'll remind you here I'm praying for you, daily.

Mixed episodes suck!

2011-10-24T19:27:00.000-05:00

Today, not a good day for the mood.

1. I didn't get enough sleep.
2. I chose to watch "Walking Dead" rather than do my God Time when I did get up. {snort}
3. I kept obsessing (it's called ruminating) about the whole circus last night. I was really, really, upset.

I finally made a deliberate decision to let it go. I kept telling myself "It doesn't matter". When the kids started up tonight, kicking the ball into the fence "It doesn't matter".

I also thought it would have been a little weird to get upset about kids, when I'm bagging up Halloween Candy with scripture booklets and a Jesus activity book. [laugh]

I try to look at it a couple of ways, and I won't look great as I say it:
1. I do SUCH GOOD work for God, the Devil has to attack me with mood problems, pretty annoyances, etc... just to ruin my witness and take my eyes off God. Yes. I know how that sounds.

2. I remind myself that I have a serious illness: I want it to be a minor thing, but it isn't. I have a bloody, filthy, brutal battle on my hands every day of my life. I have to fight on, battle my moods, stay balanced and stable, so I can do good work for God.

3. I remind myself that this "life" is temporary, and eternity is - well - forever. The apostle Paul said while in chains in a Roman prison, (book of Philippians) "I have learned to be content wherever I am" and also, "I can do all things in God who gives me strength". He had a very hard time, and he managed with God's help. I can manage with God's help; but I have to ask, and accept it.

I'm a little sarcastic as I say this "That's the great thing about a mixed bipolar episode. Even the best of life looks like a horrible endurance race, something to be endured, instead of enjoyed."

Doc is always happy when I don't have the clear manias, but oh, I miss them. Mixed episodes suck. One minute I'm telling my life story to a guy at Taco Bell, the next I am snarling at the neighbor kids. [head in hands] God, give me the grace to deal.

Ron and I had a really dumb argument tonight, he got verbally abusive. He wanted me to help him find something. He started name-calling. I told him, "I won't help you if you continue to disrespect me. Please try to remember I am HELPING YOU." He called me another name, and I said "That's it, I won't help you if you can't treat me with respect." and walked off. He had to find it, on his own. After he stormed off, I did my God Time.

It seems like a small thing, but it isn't. My illness and life experiences have had me thinking "I am worthless" for a very long time. That is not true. My faith tells me God came to earth and died for me. I have value.

Just like I wouldn't let Ron ruin a lovely coat, I don't have to "let" him try to drag me down when he's angry. I wonder sometimes. He was verbally abusive before the accident, but it sure got worse after. Part of it, clearly, is impulse control. He doesn't have much.

Last night I made some hamburger helper, and he kept eating it even after he was full because "It tastes so good". He couldn't delay gratification. [shrug] So there's the organic component.

I do wonder, if he "wanted" - could he ever treat me with respect 100% of the time? That's where I shrug and say "You know what, that's in God's hands. I am accountable for my actions, and I will try to live my life in a way that honors God. I will treat other people with respect, even if they are ugly, and focus on pleasing God." That also means I will set boundaries and enforce them.

Usually, that means warning Ron, and then removing myself from the situation. It does help; he understands. I want to say something bitter like someone has to be the grownup but that's just hatery.

Anyway, not enough sleep. Got up. Stood up God so I could watch zombies. Went to work, stuffed in a cab with a couple of other people. New-ish driver, but he did OK. Stocked my machines. Happily sodas needed several cases. Yay!

Prayed over a vending machine (not aloud) while trying to fit the new bulb into the fixture. Boy, it was hard. I have dis-assembled coin mechanisms faster! Finally got it to work. YaY! Happy dance, made the customers laugh (obviously a little manic there).

Walking around all squinty and obsessed with keeping the neighbor kids out of my yard. Dude, I'm glad he doesn't read my blog. He would move.

Not my best moment; but I think it is important to be transparent. I hope and pray some other poor bastard comes along and goes OH! SHE HAS IT TOO! I hope. I hope if you are in my shoes, you are TAKING YOUR PILLS AS DIRECTED and AVOIDING ALCOHOL. OK. Done with lecture.

Again, a little manic. I am going to eat and take my night-time stuff shortly.

The other vendor's wife came to me. Her hand was bleeding. She had tried to pick up some broken glass and gotten a splinter.

Now, for a second, I wanted to get all Haz-mat and say "I'm not touching you without gloves". But then I thought, Dude, nothing is going to happen to me outside of God's will, and she is very health-concious. I am sure she gets tested for everything, every year.

I got a couple of rubbing alcohol wipes, cleaned her off, and removed the splinter. More blood, some on me. Oh, well. After I put on her bandage I went in my stockroom and used the sanitizer.

Again, nothing's going to happen out of God's will.

I got the deliveries, helped Ron, got everything stocked, and off we went. We came home, and I got Mom's stuff. She wanted some roux, she liked my painting, etc... so I went ahead and stuck it all in a tote bag with plenty of candy.

They love candy at the Post Office. Ron took me to a restaurant nearby, and waited while I got it all mailed. She should get it all Wednesday-ish.

I thought it was funny; I was just at the processing plant that morning, filling my machines, but I had to go miles away to actually MAIL something, which is by now, at the processing center. [snort] They were happy to get the candy.

I made sure the clerk knew I hadn't paid for some of the supplies, so I could get charged. I will ruin my witness if I steal, and "not paying for" an envelope and bubble wrap is theft. I am very rigid in that regard. If it's a gift, that's fine, but if it's not I'm paying.

Did that, came home. Started getting hives from lunch. Took a benadryl, laid down for a nap.

Got up a few hours later, no hives. Yay! No wheat for a while.

It's sad, I have such a good mania going right now, but I have to whack it before it turns into some horrifying beast and turns on me.

So, I got up. Watched the hoarding show and cleaned up the front room (always needs a little work). Then I started bagging up candy, watching the show.

I did about 50 bags of Halloween candy. They are getting a scripture booklet, activity book, full sized snickers bar, now and later, handful of hard candy, and a couple of caramels.

I hope they like it!

You only need one.

2011-10-23T18:14:00.000-05:00

In some regards, I've had a good weekend. I got to rest, got my supplies for work, got my supplies for home. Here come the kids again, coming in my yard... "I lost my ball".

Ron made a joke about outlawing all balls, on his planet and I like it.

I did my cooking, cleaned up the front room (boy, it is easy for clutter to breed), and have stayed on top of both laundry, and dishes. Yay.

On the other hand, I'm just really tired... battling depression, irritable, and feeling kind of persecuted. Logically, I know I have a good life; I have an illness, and I will get better. I know I just need to hang in there.

But I get so tired of fighting. I just want to react normally to things, without the whole lens of mental illness. I don't want to care so much when strange people are walking on my property. I want to sleep, without all the drama of things that might or might not be there. It gets OLD.

I feel I've complained a lot recently, but I remind myself that is OK. That's why I have the blog; to get it all out. If I'm feeling tired, weary, broken-down, and frustrated, I should be talking about it.

UGH. More kids in the yard. I finally went out and told them, "Look, FYI, I need to get up at 3 AM tomorrow."

It's a problem, if I have the loud party on one side of the house, and kids banging the gate and yelling as they come in MY yard on the other. Sometimes I am very tempted to let the parents know I have mental illness; I'm certain that would keep ALL kids out of my yard.

For a while, then it might be fun to play "get away with it". I think the thing that bothers me the most: it's not just one kid coming in my yard, after the ball, it's PACKS of them, several at a time.

You only need one kid to get a ball.

But, I can hear the next door neighbor, very rowdy, party time... let's hope I get some sleep tonight.

"They do it to trick you"

2011-10-23T18:02:00.000-05:00

Some days, are just strange for me.

A little background, I am not a fan of strange children in my yard. My aunt says boys, in particular, just have trouble with rough play and the concept of a property line.

So, I find it a bit disturbing that the kids on one side of my house have literally torn a piece of siding off the house - playing rough with their soccer ball. I think they tried to kick the ball, missed, and got the siding instead. I find it a bit disturbing that they just walk into my yard whenever they lose a ball.

The way I was raised, you NEVER went into a neighbor's yard without express permission from your parent, AND the neighbor, every time you went in the yard. [shrug] If I broke the rule I'd get spanked, lectured, and chores.

Ron and I got pretty tired of strange kids coming into the yard because "I lost my ball". We tried telling them they had to ask us to get the ball, which turned into a sick game of "fetch" with one child pestering me every 10 minutes or so. Ron had to have a talk with his mother.

After hearing we could be held liable for injuries obtained in the yard, we had a policy of "If your parent asks, we will give them the ball" - that eliminated the "fetch". But they kept coming. I found it very disturbing, strange kids staring in my windows and "exploring" my yard. If I went out and confronted them, they'd grab the ball and run off. The starers just made strange comments like "You have a lot of books". One kid was in the back yard, looking into a window, and when I confronted him he said he wanted us to pay him to mow the yard.

So, Ron put a lock on the gate. That held them off for a while; then they started climbing over the gate, the gate that took my husband a long time to build. They broke it.

I was very angry. Ron built a new gate when we had the dog problems last year, we thought the dog might have been getting out on the street side, then coming into our yard through the broken gate.

We decided to leave it unlocked. The kid next door, on occasion, will come and get his ball.

I don't think much of it, usually, until I heard what I did today. They are having some kind of birthday party today, several cars all over (one of them parked, blocking my driveway - would have been nice to ASK me before doing that), several adults, and several kids.

Anyway, I heard the kids coming around the house again after the ball. One of the boys expressed trepidation, he thought we had a dog. The other kid said "No, they don't have a dog. They just made the gate like that to TRICK YOU into thinking they have one."

WTF?

I don't think I can understand that reasoning. Hey, kid, you are trespassing. I am allowing it because your parents are decent people. But it's MY property, not yours, and I can do anything I want with it. So get your ball and get the heck out!

[shudder] I can see why some people buy 100 acres or so, out in the middle of nowhere, with a big fence.

It was real, last night

2011-10-22T18:52:00.000-05:00

Well, I slept pretty well last night, with just the one "tablet". I heard some music, yes, but I also heard it getting very loud as it came down our street, and Ron muttering "If you can't build it, you don't get to use it". Clearly, "real".

I woke up pretty groggy - I usually do. I skipped my morning God Time (caught up later), took my shower, and went to the warehouse store. Ron and I got the supplies I needed, including more Driver Candy. I handed out tons of stuff.

We came home, and went to Starbucks. We had our coffee (well, I had a steamed milk), and read our books for a bit. Came home, I was really tired, took a nap.

I slept for quite a while, woke up, and did some housework. I also caught up with God and hung out for a while. Read some more of my book; it's a good one.

Now, I just need to work on fixing up the front room, call Mom and Dad, and get ready for the grocery store tomorrow.

The fifth pillow

2011-10-21T19:39:00.000-05:00

In some regards, I have a hard time being nice to myself. I battle low-self-esteem and feelings of unworthiness. I don't think I deserve good things in my life.

I'm working on that, a balance between martyrdom, self-respect, and selfishness. It's an interesting road.

For instance, I love a lot of pillows in my bed. Nothing makes me feel spoiled like a nice fluffy nest of pillows. Most of the pillows are several years old, and cost me less than $10 each. I like the ones with the polyester puff, kind of like down but without the allergies. I can fluff them up and adjust them, without bothering my allergies.

I've mentioned before, I like to stack 3 of them, pyramid-style, for my head. I also like to have a pillow to one side when I sleep on my side. I can throw my leg over it.

One, recent, night, I was lying in bed, tossing and turning, trying to sleep. I flipped from one side to the other and noted I only had a pillow on one side.

I rolled over on my back and stared at the ceiling. Why, I thought, didn't I have another. I have plenty of inexpensive pillows in the house. It would be an easy matter to put one in my bed.

I finally concluded, I had felt it would be "over-indulgent". A fifth pillow in my bed! The horror!

Well, I thought, that's just STUPID. I resolved to put the fifth pillow in my bed. It took about a week, and a nasty migraine, but I finally rounded one up and placed it in the bed.

I still have trouble sleeping, but I'm a lot more comfortable in the process. I'm glad I did it.

I think it's a little sad it took me so long, but that's OK, I'm learning. Progress is important, not the speed.

Oh, and Ron? He loves to sleep on a euro-square pillow, just one, a big 26 inch square. He adores it. It is really old, and I offered to replace it, but he always protests. He really does like it.

So, I have my 5 pillows, he has his single, and when he comes to visit I throw a couple on the floor.

The Normals don't sleep any better

2011-10-21T19:31:00.000-05:00

I really dislike talking about the "psychotic" parts of my illness. I don't want to have it, I don't want to think about it, and God knows I sure don't want to write about it.

And yet, many nights, I lie in bed, hearing noises that might or might not be there. Ron is about 50% deaf, so it can be pretty useless to ask him. I can't exactly go bang on a neighbor's door, "Excuse me, do you hear a muted banging noise?" Sometimes it sounds like a car, with the loud boom-boom speakers, a ways off... and maybe it is, maybe it isn't.

This morning, when I opened the door, the "noise" went away. Same with a few nights ago. So, then I'm faced with Doc's advice to "take another antipsychotic".

I go into whining mode; I don't want to to take an antipsychotic. I don't want to NEED one, much less TWO. I want to go to bed and sleep every night like the "normal" people do.

And then I got on a message board, or Facebook, and it looks like the "normals" don't sleep any better. A lot of them have painful and debilitating physical conditions that affect their sleep. Many have anxiety issues.

And my "possible hallucinations" with moderate anxiety and insomnia, look pretty average.

As I lie in bed, I ask God to give me a decent quality of sleep; even if I don't get the hours. And I always do. I always have just enough to keep me going through the next day, and get my God Time, too.

Time to recharge

2011-10-19T10:48:00.000-05:00

I really detest drama in my own life; so, if I've written a blog or two that appears "dark", and I'm doing better, I'll say so.

So, I'm doing better. I took my depression protocol medication, along with an OTC painkiller for the headache. Pretty soon I started feeling better.

Ron woke up and we had a good talk. We went to sleep, and I slept great. Thank God. I didn't even wake up with my usual "overslept" headache. I hadn't really gotten an ideal night of sleep in at least a couple of days, so happily I caught up, I think.

And, we have today off. I can catch up on laundry, etc, and just relax. Tomorrow is not a hard or a long day, either.

Good. I can use a little time to recharge.

Days like that

2011-10-18T19:00:00.000-05:00

I get tired of it; being sick. I want to have a life without battling a parasitic mood. I want to have a nice visit, untainted by depression. Well, I wasn't depressed when my parents were around, but let me tell you, before and after weren't much of a treat.

Even tonight, I battle depression, and a headache. Can't I just savor happy memories? No. So, I thought, I'd look up my blogs from the last time they came to visit, only to discover I barely mentioned it.

And that made me sad again. I get so tired, so weary. I took my protocol medication, and some caffeine free headache pills. Either I'll sleep great tonight, or horribly. I'm not sure.

Right now I just want to wail about the injustice; lying in bed wondering if what I hear is real. The battle to sleep, some nights. I remind myself that latter happens to everyone. Many, many, people get depressed. I'm not foolish enough to assume I'm alone.

Unlike many people, I know what I have, and I have medication for treatment. It's just tough when I want a hug from Ron, and he isn't willing because his leg is cramping up. He apologized, but he isn't feeling any more cuddly, either.

Days like today, when I should be very happy, but my brain says no. Days like the one I bought the house, my cat died, and I had a horrible depression for weeks. Days like that get me down, discourage me, and make me feel pretty cheated.

And then I remind myself: my faith in God ensures I'm going to Heaven, along with all my loved ones (they're all saved, too). Instead of a couple days every few years, I'm going to have an eternity to enjoy them.

And I won't be sick, either.

"Make a good day of it"

2011-10-18T17:31:00.000-05:00

So, lying in bed, unable to sleep, I had begged God to take my lack of sleep and mental problems, and make a good day out it anyway. He did.

I got Ron's wheelchair (turns out we didn't need it), loaded, put our bags in the trunk, and headed off to my house. I got my spare glasses, and we were off. I forgot my nightgown.

Mom got some cute photos of Mr Bubba cat. He required some cat treats.

So, off we went, to Galveston... sort of. First, Dad had broken HIS reading glasses. We went by my favorite dollar store and got a new pair. Mom also needed a few items. We went to a craft store, and got her some lovely yarn.

Lunchtime! They don't have a Cracker Barrel in CA, so we went to our local. We all had a delicious meal. I think my parents found it cute to hear the waitress fuss over Ron's "neglect".

Off to Starbucks, and now Galveston. The mid-afternoon traffic was pretty easy. We got to the hotel and found ourselves on the second floor. "Good" Ron said, "I hate people walking around on top of me!"

The wheelchair stayed in the trunk the whole time. Next time we can leave it at home.

We checked in and decided to take a nap. Dad changed and hung out by the pool. I took a nice shower in the lovely bathroom. They have the best shower head in the world. It has so many settings. Ahhh. Ron took a nap. I couldn't sleep.

We left Ron napping and went to the grocery store. We bought some bread and went looking for seagulls. I couldn't find any on the beach. Later on, I finally did "move" part of a loaf, to a pretty apathetic bunch of gulls, as Dad and I got munched by some nasty bloodsuckers.

Poor Dad kept applying cream to his bites all day today.

We went to dinner, had a great time. Ron had told me he'd eat "finger foods" and did just that. We went back to the hotel and bed.

During dinner, Ron noticed I was a little manic. When he poked me in the leg, I tried to slow down. In retrospect, I would have had a small snack and taken my lithium earlier. As soon as I got back to the room, I took my lithium.

Well, I read a little and then went to bed. I slept great, but since I didn't have a nightgown I wore an old shirt and some shorts. I kept getting "wedgies". Other than that, a wonderful bed and a pretty good sleep. My alarm went off at 6:30. I left the room about 7. Mom and Dad were gone, to Starbucks.

I walked to Starbucks, but discovered I'd gone to the wrong one. I went to the right one. I drank my beverage, ate, took my pills, and got my lessons on how to operate the computer. I'm on it right now. It is awesome.

By the time we finished, Ron was up. We went to breakfast, and I showed Mom how to operate a Kindle. She is considering the purchase. I think I sold her.

We went back to the hotel and checked out. They always take good care of us at the hotel.

We drove around for a while, and I finally found some hungry seagulls. They had a good feast (lots of photos taken, too), as Ron and Dad waited in the car. I dialed Ron on my cell phone and put the phone on the sand, scattering bread all around. Ron got a real earful of bickering seagulls!

We drove around some more, looked at some of the sculptures (many oaks destroyed in the hurricane became interesting sculptures), took some more photos, and got ice cream. More Starbucks, and time to go.

It was a little more traffic-y coming home, but not horrible. I could tell Dad was concentrating. We got to the house and Mom got more great photos of Bubba (they should be going in my slide show, shortly), and some of me, Ron, and Bubba.

Off they went (my aunt lives pretty far away), and see you later. They are doing really well "for their ages". I see a lot of very unhappy, infirm people on the paratransit and Mom and Dad are still lively and healthy. It's good to see. I don't "have" to worry about them.

I look forward to seeing them again. I love Houston, but I do wish they were closer sometimes. Then I think of how much Dad would hate an average Houston summer, and I say "Maybe not!"

Happily, I think we all had a good time. I consumed a ton of caffeine today, I hope I sleep OK tonight. I'm glad I have the kind of life where we could take a couple days off to relax.

And notify...

2011-10-18T17:10:00.000-05:00

It didn't get off to a good start.

Sure, Mom and Dad had come to visit. Sure, we planned to go to Galveston. Sure, I was even getting a new-to-me computer.

Sure enough, the depression hit; weeks long before the visit. Ever tried to clean and organize a home while depressed? Agh. My glasses broke in June, then again last week, and then again on Monday. Time for some new glasses!

So, Sunday, we all had a big family lunch, great to see everyone. I got hammered with a horrible depression, so bad I had to take an antidepressant at night. As a result, I slept horribly and had a few minor auditory "problems".

I lay in bed, hating the vague music that may or may not have existed, and begged God to please help me have a good time regardless. To paraphrase an old story "Please take this and make a good day out of it tomorrow".

Monday, I had broken glasses and couldn't see a thing.

In fact, at work, someone tried to put a bill into all the vending machines. It didn't work. They presented it to me: and even unable to read I could tell it was a fake. It looked ALL wrong. I suggested they go to the credit union.

See, if a banking institution gets a fake bill, they KEEP IT and notify the authorities. She just said never mind. Someone with a real bill would have been a lot more upset.

Hm. Not fun. She wandered off and I went back to work, doing what I could.

Dad called, he was outside. I once read a book that stated you should have the first couple minutes of "contact" as a positive experience, no matter how bad your day. I fear I did not do that, very annoyed at my broken glasses. It was time to go...

Whining

2011-10-16T10:50:00.000-05:00

Mom and Dad are coming to visit, so I've been cleaning up. I'm glad I only have carpet in a couple of rooms; tile is a lot easier to manage.

Hard when I have a low energy level; Doc will be thrilled I'm not really getting manic, but it is a bit frustrating. It's, like, tired or tired + depressed. But then God sent me an episode of Law & Order, a psychotic guy off his meds killed a nice lady. I don't want that to be me. So, I swallow my handful of "sick-making" pills

One beautiful thing about my blog; I can come here and whimper. I can whine, snivel and moan. And you read about it and maybe think "Thank God I don't have that problem" maybe you think about your own medication; or maybe you get a better understanding on why a loved one ISN'T taking their pills.

Because I've noticed, loved ones HATE to hear about the side effects. They empathize, but they're also a little scared.   Scared I will get tired and maybe stop (I'd die first) my medication. Ron feels terrible, like he "ought" to be able to protect me from Bad Things, including medication side effects; but it's this or Heather the Hatchet. Then he will yell at God. [laughing] Not easy to talk about the side effects.

Don't worry, I know God can take care of Himself. The book of Job; Job yelling at God. At the end of the book, God gives Job DOUBLE everything he lost, so obviously God understands. And I'm sure the God who created my husband understands his frustration at times.

Happily, I can come here and vent MY frustrations in a very healthy manner; and maybe offer a little insight and education to boot.   Speaking of, I will be doing a partnership.

I am a purist. I saw a "monetized" blog recently and it looked HORRIBLE.... ads inserted at every paragraph. Yuck. I will not monetize my blog, if it means I'm out on a corner waving a "Now Leasing" sign at the passing cars every day.

However, Gospel for Asia would like me to do an article now and then; sharing my perspective on some things they do. I've been really busy but I'll be doing that. They do REALLY good work in a sensitive and appropriate manner. Good stewards, committed to the Great Commission (preach the Gospel to the whole world).

So, that's upcoming. I think that will be fun. I like to help "good people". I may be "Low Income" but I am happy to do that.

So many good things out there, if I won the Lotto. Oh, boy. I'd have some fun.

Selfish first: hire a professional driver service. I could just make a call and have a car show up to take me anywhere. Ahhh.   Pay off the house, fix the siding and bathroom. I'd love to get a grab bar in the tub for Ron. Get a couple different pairs of glasses, I always thought that would be cool to have a choice every day - which glasses to wear. "I'll wear the purple today". That's about it.

I'd really have fun with the charity stuff; but God needs me here, where I am, handing out my bags of driver candy and doing my Bible Handouts.

Done with the whining for now, the headache pills worked, and when Ron gets out of the tub it's shower time.

Why not take advantage?

2011-10-13T18:58:00.000-05:00

I didn't sleep well. Too much caffeine, had me lying in bed listening to that noise. Kind of vague, bassy thumps. Ron says it sounds like something, I think it sounds like something else. I can't really say too much because it could be identifying information. AGH. Bad people suck.

I wish I could just TALK without wondering if the information could send some creep to my house.

Anyway, didn't sleep well. The noise kept waking me up. Ron slept OK.

We might go investigating later tonight, him in the wheelchair, if needed. I love having the wheelchair for just that. It is very odd, the noise goes from about 10 PM to 6 AM.

I remind myself, we pay about the going rate for a one-bedroom in a mariginal area, to own a 3 bedroom home. We have a decent yard, well over 1000 square feet. We have a garage. So, if we have a trade off, we do.

I think it is safe to say we used to live near the airport for 3 years. I'd hear the jets screaming in so loud Ron and I had to stop talking. Day and night, every day of the year.

For me, the oddest part of 9/11 was the silence. They grounded all the airplanes, it was so quiet. Safe to say, we do not live near the airport.

Finally got up, did my God Time, took my shower, had a discussion with Ron about noisemakers. He prefers I run one fan, and not the other. OK.

I am very easygoing on medication. At least, I like to think I am!

We ran to Foodtown. I needed some soda. They also had an incredible deal on canned food. I had enough time to serve both agendas.

I only had about $8 left from my paycheck. However, Foodtown was having a sale on canned foods. I got several cans of vegetable soup, and a couple cans of fruit canned in juice, for 50 cents each.

I told Ron, I can't even can it for that price! I was happy with my quantity - they were pretty heavy, too.

Then, we went to work. It was mainly accounting stuff today, which we did. Then to the bank. Did that.

It's funny, if a noisy car drives by, I am used to that. I am hoping, whatever the noise, it will either go away, or I'll get used to it. It's not very loud.

Anyway, DONE with talking about this, to me it borders on the hallucination stuff and I really prefer not to dwell. I take my pills so I have a nice boring life. It is odd, that most of the time I sleep fine; have problems for nights, then I don't.

We went to the bank. I had an interesting discussion, one I've been having a lot recently.

"Fred" knows I am a Christian. He knows I love my Bible. However, he has run into one of the cults that hate and disparage the Bible, saying it has "been corrupted", etc.

Well, I don't. I will not allow said arguments on my blog, either. I corrected him on one count (translations are done from the original Greek), and told him, no matter the translation, the truth is the truth. Jesus came to earth and died for our sins. We can only be saved by faith in Him, because even our best actions are "filthy" in God's sight. God is perfect; and we have to be purified by faith in Jesus before we can enter Heaven.

So, I had an issue. Now I like to hand out a tract. After I'm gone, the tract is still around, talking to whoever picks it up. The tract can talk to people I never met. So, I love a good, quality, tract.

I did some research, couldn't find anything through the Google stuff. Not what I wanted, at any rate.

See, a lot of people think there is one "acceptable" version of the Bible. I disagree. I use a couple of various versions every day. I find it very helpful; one version may provide insight that another did not.   Every Bible defense tract was praising the KJV.

Frankly, my reading comprehension is not up to the KJV. If you only use that, fine. But I won't say there is only one version.

Now, some people put out versions of the Bible that I don't like; I feel the meaning has been watered down. Some things have been altered. I won't name names, but if you ask God to show you the right Bible, He will. You can also read many versions, online, for free.

So, I'm on the hunt for a tract. I sent an email to Grace and Truth. I also asked for a good tract for the "I try to be nice, so I'm going to Heaven" crowd. I'm sure I'll get what I need.   I need to place an order anyway, I have very few tracts.

I am trying, to drastically reduce my caffeine intake. I figure the caffeine makes me hypersensitive to noise at night. I'm also adjusting my lithium, later. I sleep great after taking lithium. Why not take advantage?    I will also go to bed earlier.

When we got home, Ron asked me to open the windows, and I did. I had a lovely nap, with a mockingbird singing right outside the window during my entire nap. It was lovely.

When Ron woke up, I told him "God-created sounds are so much prettier then ones created by man."