The Company you keep

This is one post, I feel, where most people will agree with Ron and view me as nuts. [Ugh. I just had to endure a morning-long rant on how God is so "Awful" to Ron and how Ron wishes he would lose everything and end up in a nursing home (alone of course). "I wish I would lose the house and business" he says, "So I don't have to worry about it anymore." I finally told him I had my quota of negativity and asked him to please leave me alone if he "didn't have anything positive to say, because you would not want to listen to me talking about headaches all day long." "I'll go suck it up" he said bitterly as he left. I'm so sorry I only lasted 3 hours!]

Anyway, off to Foodtown this morning. I had a bagful of driver candy and my tote bag. Ron was really agitated - they had cut our time at Foodtown and he kept going on about it.

My attitude is just "Tell me about it and drop it." I don't CARE if they cut our time. His having hysterics and asking me repeatedly if I have enough time to shop - that is stressful! "You only have 17 minutes!" [sigh, rolleyes] IT'S OK. Like I told you the OTHER 4 times you asked.

So, we go to Foodtown. He doesn't want fruit salad. I get some veggies. I see the low-carb tortillas and ask him how many burritos he has left; he tells me 2, I offer to get supplies and make him some more. Great.

He's been reading this cookbook by Tricia Yearwood and treating everything she writes as the gospel. [shrug] I have eaten a lot of the old-time southern appetizers and all. He kept going on about sausage balls. I told him, the bake mix is a deal killer, and even when I could eat wheat I found them pretty insipid. If he wanted, I'd make him some... no. He got upset that I wasn't as rabid about trying the recipes. [shrug] Nothing sounded very good, it was all carbs, carbs, carbs. Wheat, wheat, wheat. I don't want to eat things that make me fat and sick!

I seldom use a recipe. I have never found a cookbook that I felt had "Great" recipes. They were always OK. I have pretty simple tastes, a green salad, maybe some green beans, a nice chunk of meat, some sharp cheese, and maybe a little fruit for "dessert". I love sausage, cheese, and peanuts. I have very peasant tastes, I'd say.

I got Ron the supplies he needed (about 4 cans), and went ahead and got a few things for the disaster kit. Foodtown does not have low prices on the canned sausage! I decided to wait on that! I did get some additional canned veggies because I noticed I'm pretty low.

I also got some Powerade Zero, good to have around in the heat even if you don't have a disaster or illness. It would be very difficult for Ron to get supplies if I fell ill.

I also got some soda and looked at the meats, deciding I had "plenty" at home already. I can eat those up, especially since we have a "thing" in the Gulf. I don't want a lot of fresh meat in the fridge if we lose power.

I got the driver a pastry, which I forgot. I will give it to tomorrow's driver if Ron doesn't eat it. I got Ron some eggrolls and headed to checkout.

I had about 5 minutes, and got in line. The assistant manager called me over as he opened a register. A "lady" tried to cut, but he wouldn't let her.

She decided to play snarky little tricks like putting up the divider 6 inches past my first item, leaving me 5 inches to load my entire cart on the conveyor. I took it off and said "I have more items than that, ma'am." Then she tried to take things out of my cart and load them, putting the eggs up where they would have been crushed. I don't like strangers getting grabby with my stuff. I stopped her and said "I'll load my own merchandise, thank you." She kept huffing and sighing and getting very agitated, pushing forward and jamming my cart into my ankles.

I finally stopped and looked at her. "Ma'am, I'm in a hurry, too. If you just leave me alone I can get this done a lot faster, but you're getting in my way and making it longer for all of us." That stopped her cold. In fact, once I had been rung and bagged, the guy took his time getting her order rung.

Now, I expect little attacks like this. I am doing work for God. That is bound to piss off the bad guy. I have no idea what's happening with all those Bibles I've handed out, but I have to assume a few of them have resulted in people getting saved or getting back on track with God. I handed out Bibles to the manager and bagger with a smile.

Since I do ride the bus frequently, I often see the homeless in our area. Every area has a half-dozen or so "regulars". I know most of them by name. I noticed "Bushy" was sitting next to Ron on the bench.

I looked at Bushy - he's always the same. Skinny white guy, covered in tattoos, could use a good bath, dirty clothes, bushy hair. When I saw him, I thought "Ah, I can give him a Bible." I have gotten his wife and friends but not him. He ran off last time when I stuck my hand in my bag.

Ron was looking distinctly uncomfortable. By this point he had figured out that the guy was "Bushy". Ron has gotten upset with me recently, more than once, for "being nice to THOSE PEOPLE." Today was no exception.

I chatted briefly as I looked outside, and teased the janitor as I got ready to buy a can of Diet Dr. "If it comes out 7up again, will you take it?" Clunk. Ah! Frosty goodness!

Bushy drank his pop and mused about various things, including all his recent arrests for public intoxication. I remained pretty neutral. I did give him a Bible and he seemed pretty touched. He seemed to take it seriously.

Anyway, he wandered off and our ride came. Ron didn't say anything on the way home but as soon as the front door shut he got really upset. He doesn't want me talking to the "dregs".

When I met Ron, I saw him as more of a rebel. He would really be nauseated if he saw what I do: he's turned into his mother! "What will the neighbors think!?" "You are judged by the company you keep!" "I don't want to associate with THOSE PEOPLE."

Please. I didn't invite him over for dinner, I simply spoke kindly and gave him a Bible. I'm not stupid enough to support his habit. Oh, yeah, Foodtown is going to BAN us because I gave this guy a Bible. Him and everyone else in the world! They probably had a bet going on how long it would take me to hand him one.

I am doing my best to emulate Jesus, and he hung out with the "dregs". Alcoholics, prostitutes, and tax collectors (like a drug dealer today). He did not judge people, ever. He showed them God's love. In fact, he got angry when people told him he shouldn't work with "Them". He said THEY needed God more than the "righteous".

As I was typing, Ron came back in: more negativity, "I don't want to hear your opinions, Heather." [snort] Sadly, I do believe him. He has said again and again he doesn't care what I think or how I feel. Days like today, I believe him 100%. I really don't like the "Request" - it is phrased as a request but it's really an order.

"Figure out how to make this work." "Find the business card for the tree guy." "Don't cook anything tonight."

Yeah, let's talk about that. See, her cookbook talked about the BEST way to peel a hard-boiled egg, and Ron is more devoted to that book than I am to my Bible. I indulged him when he informed me we'd be using the BEST method to boil eggs to make his tuna salad.

I tried to tell him a music "Superstar" probably has a domestic staff to boil and peel eggs. He didn't want to hear it. No, she boils and peels them herself.

Put the eggs in cold water, bring to a boil, turn the water off, let sit for 20 minutes, then put in cold water. I have tried a varation of that but Ron didn't want to hear how badly it came out. OK. Let's go waste 8 eggs.

Sure enough, on the second egg Ron says "This didn't work". I mentioned I did not feel safe eating an egg that had not been BOILED for 20 minutes, as the FDA advises. That really did it for him, he threw them all out. He did the whole "I'm so disappointed" routine where he mopes around and "nothing ever turns out right".

"Don't cook anymore tonight". Great. What am I supposed to do to for MY dinner? Just because your precious cookbook was wrong, I'm not ALLOWED to cook? Seems very unfair.

I finally told Ron he was in a bad mood and to please leave me alone. I feel like his toilet today.