Lizard corn

I like to summarize my thoughts before I start typing, and as I did, I had an aha moment.  No wonder I was in such a lousy mood! 

Last night: Ron "tried something new with the medication".  Cue blackout.  Happily, no verbal abuse or shouting at me (I have learned to pretend he's invisible), but a lot of crashing/banging and what was he doing in the laundry room?  He knocked over the trash can in the bathroom, dragging a trail of used "things" back to his bedroom.  Oh, how I wish I were kidding. 

And, that little gray-and-white dog got out again, running all over the neighborhood, and agitating the Barkappotamous next door.  Barking, crashing, mumblings... oh, what a night.  I tried to count my blessings today, especially when I saw the pit bull car. 

Some people who live (I think), in the next subdivision drive around in an average-looking, 4 door, compact car.  With their pit bulls hanging out a window, barking viciously at everyone and everything.  I first saw them a week or so ago, they made the turn into the subdivision as I waited at the bus stop.  The vicious monsters lunged as far as they could, snarling viciously and making it clear that Heather was on the dinner menu. 

Today, as I left the house for my Day Out, I encountered them again.  This time they were trying to get out the window to eat two small dogs being walked by the nice older man.  I got some snarling, too.  It is obvious they are vicious, aggressive, monsters.  I am SO GLAD the Barkappotamous is a loving and sweet dog.  If she sees me working by her fence, she always comes over, wagging her tail.   Can you imagine living next to that? 

Ron got very contemplative when I asked what kind of person owns 2 vicious monsters like that, and drives them around all over town.  He said they are probably a very fearful person.  I'm just glad that isn't next door. 

I'd rather have a clean, quiet neighbor with a quiet dog.  I'd rather have a husband that didn't drink.  But in comparison, yike. 

I know one of my drivers was telling me about how her neighbor's pit bull got onto her property, and the woman refused to get anywhere near the dog.  She told the driver if she wanted the dog off the property, she would have take it to the house and secure it to the dog chain, herself. 

It just seems to me, they are very vicious animals.  I may get someone talking about their dog, but let me ask you this: out of all the millions, billions of dogs out there, why do you have to pick one of the top 4 dog bite breeds?  Why not a harmless mixed breed?  Or a lab? 

That goes for the wolf-mix hybrids.  I can hear myself being delinked right now, but that's the #1 biter - wolf mix hybrid dogs. 

Oh, and speaking of neighbors, yet another is selling their home.  Boy, if you want to buy a house on my street you have choices.  You can rent.  You can buy.  You can pick one side of the street, or the other.  Single, or two-story home. 

I am actually happy to see these go, they had a little brat who was part of the pack climbing over my gate and staring in my windows.  Another reason to be grateful for all dozen or so of the people next door, they keep to their own yard, and don't have little hooligans running though my yard and destroying Ron's gate. 

I worry a little about the neighborhood composition changing.  Will we see more, ignorant, people?  Will it stay pretty much the same?  Will people downsize to these homes, bringing high standards?  [shrug]

It is kind of funny for me to ride the bus these days.  It is immediately obvious to me that many car people are riding Metro (bus company).  They are always so impatient at the bus stop.  They get upset if the bus is a minute or two late.  They fumble around with their money and the bus fare meter.  The fare card is far cheaper than cash.  One, today, rode very rudely and stuck his legs out into the aisle.  But the driver let him. 

I'm also seeing a lot more people on the bus.  One of my bus stops, in fact, got upgraded from a pole and a concrete bench, to a nice setup with a covered shelter.  It's on a busy street (most are), I hope it doesn't get taken out by a drunk driver.  I've seen that - and the guy who hit the bus stop died. 

So, getting to my Day Out.  I got up around 9 - all the drama kept me from sleeping.  Moderately depressed.  I decided to water my plants.  I realized recently that I am not watering my plants deeply enough.  I did that.  The beans look great, the potatoes rather fatigued.  Humid upper 80's aren't good for potatoes, apparently.  They look healthy, just stressed.  

The lizards love my corn; I have to remind myself I have Lizard corn - and to expect sudden movement when I get near the patch.  Yes, live things in the corn.  Sudden movement!  Don't scream. 

I came in, did my God Time, and talked to Ron for a little bit.  I try to enjoy him when I can.  Took a shower. 

I decided to take my handcart and go to the Christian bookstore (the New Testament one, not the one where we have the vending machine).  It was kind of a hassle but I like to have it when I have a load. 

It was hot, sunny, and humid.  Ron said it was a little cool last night. 

I went to Foodtown.  I got some soda, and some almonds.  I missed my next bus, I saw it leave.  Curses.  I had a long wait.  I'd brought a few inspirational romance novels.  I read about 1/4 of one, waiting on the bus. 

Got off, pretty hungry.  Went to Starbucks.  Ate a bad thing.  Not much energy.  I went to the Dollar store, then the bookstore.  Didn't get anything.  Called Ron, and decided to go to the Christian bookstore and check our vending machine. 

I did that.  They have a Coke Fiend..  Good, good, good.  It needed stocking.  I called Ron and told him, and made plans to get more merchandise tomorrow and then stock it.  We can have a little fast food date, too.

I looked around, picked up a few clearance inspirational romance novels, and left.  I was completely exhausted. 

Well, I remind myself, I'll get the energy back during my next mania.  In the meantime, I could force myself out for a few more hours, or I could go home. 

I went home.  I finished the one romance novel and started the next. 

I started getting REALLY depressed; I couldn't figure it out.  Then I took a good look at the plot of my book.  A single mother, gives her child up for adoption; grieves for her daily. 

How to express it?  Memories of my mother: lots of anger, shouting, fights.  Me: hungry, lonely, scared, neglected.  Fear of her competing with a desperate need for her love.  Her sucide attempt.  She went away.  Maybe a dozen supervised visits total in my life; everytime at the end she cried about how much she'd miss me as I wonder what I did wrong.  Phone calls, sobbing how sorry she was, me telling her it was OK, I forgave her.  Why couldn't she love me?  "Mommy is sick". 

COLD COMFORT.  One of the many reasons I never had kids.  My Dad remarried and she wasn't bad; she listened to me, taught me (how to cook, etc), and was a stable feature of my life.  But we all knew she wasn't my mother. 

No wonder I found the book so upsetting.  I'm sure my sister will tell me how my mother grieved losing me 'till the day she died.  She has.  She has told me my mother died thinking I hated her (not sure where she got that).  When I moved out, I didn't leave a forwarding address.  For anyone.  But I didn't hate her. 

I just felt a combination of bafflement, despair, and resignation.  This was my mother; who prenatally maimed me, but was very, very, sorry.  When she called.  Which was seldom.  Maybe 10 times.  A birthday would come and go, and my Dad's wife would make me a cake and sing happy birthday and I would wonder if my mother even knew.  Or cared. 

But in a perverse way, she as a good influence.  She taught me alcohol was poison, only to be used as a disinfectant.  She taught me that motherhood is a huge job, and I'd better make sure I was up for it.  She taught me how NOT to manage my illness, and the consequences of going unmedicated (from what I have heard, she was on and off medication quite a bit).  She taught me to avoid dramas and to strive for a quiet life, and self-management was a load of crock - let God carry the load. 

I had an experience the night she died, and she came to me in a dream.  I felt tremendous love coming off of her; and her sincere regret that she'd hurt me.  I believe she did not know the consequences of drinking when pregnant.  I was able to forgive her, and I'm sure she's with Jesus. 

I never had a mother.  No wonder I hate that book. 

I've cried enough for now, off to go plant some cowpeas.