I think everyone in my family was a fighter of some sort. Unlike my father, God rest his soul, who was a Golden Glove Feather Weight champ back in his day, who was a "real" fighter.....we were each fighters in our own way.
My family members have faced hard times, every single one of them, in some form. Some more serious than others. Some had illness that took their lives. It wasn't that they gave up, they just knew it was time to let go, to walk away. Other family members walked away from bad crops, knowing no amount of water and care was going to coax out a good canning crop. They didn't give up on their gardens. Just was past the time of being able to fight mother nature's elements.
For me, it depended on the year it was, my age at the time, and my goals...... but it seems like I was always faced with some sort of battle. It took me 10 years to get my college degree. I didn't give up, I just had to walk away and regroup.
Well, lucky for me, I learned these lessons from growing up in the middle of war zones. Not like I saw at the movies with John Wayne but right under my nose, with my family.
It was the wars my family fought that had lessons for anyone willing to watch, listen and learn. My parents fighting and screaming, my grandparents, God love 'em, had their fits and fights too, as well as Aunts and Uncles. I don't think any kid could drop and roll under a bed as fast as I could. If a loud voice or the stomp of angry feet reached my ears, I ran to the nearest bedroom if trapped inside, hit the floor and rolled under a bed.
A lot of education was processed by my little brain over a decade as I listened to arguments simple as the amount of money spent to a person feeling ignored and undervalued. At first I might not have caught the concept of each argument but as I laid under many a bed avoiding conflict, I would flick dust bunnies with a puff of my breath then bounced them around with my fingers on the hardwoods wishing I had been outside, not trapped listening to things a 10 year old didn't need to hear. But I was lucky to have been caught unaware and trapped. A great lesson learned was that people who fought could still love each other. Well mostly, our family had it's share of divoce but also some who weathered the storms, stuck it out, walked away from the conflict for the moment but never gave up.
I fought with siblings, cousins, and parents but knew I still loved them. I teach my grandson now, it is okay to be angry with someone and still love them.
Over the years, watching my family evolve and growing into my own individual life, I learned that sometimes it's better to walk away sooner rather than later. It didn't mean I was giving up, I made a decision to do what was right for me at the time I made the decision.
This example can be used with something as simple as fishing. My Papaw built a cabin with a little outhouse on the side of a steep hill. It had no running water and the only heat was from a small wood burning stove in the middle of the one room cabin. It sat next to a great Ozark lake. I loved that place. It was a retreat that I used when I entered my teen years and needed to be alone to just think, no distractions. Papaw build a boat dock and had an old flat bottomed fishing boat tied up there year round.
Those of you who fish know, some days fish just don't bite. Many days, I stared silently at my bobber. After a few hours if that bobber wouldn't move, I knew it was time to walk away. I didn't really give up on ever fishing again, it just wasn't the right time.
The same goes for relationships, to my way of thinking anyway. If I walk away it does not mean I have given up loving that person. It doesn't mean I have given up on feeling loved, cared about or needed. It very simply means I go back to my roots and know that what I am seeking isn't where pain resides. If I keep going to the same place and only feel pain, it's time to walk away.
It was time. I left.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Monday, October 1, 2012
Gun Racks and Bench Seats
When I dated, I can't remember ever being in a car or truck that had bucket seats. I heard on the radio today that bench seats are going to be a thing of the past, gone the way of 8 track tapes and simple phones that only called or took calls.
I can hardly remember dating a boy that didn't either drive his daddy's pick up with gun rack or own his own truck with gun rack when I was young, before I became older and more open minded. Or was it really just what every my family liked most I went the other way?? I was pretty rotten that way.
Back to the loss of bench seats.... surely not in pick up trucks!! I have not googled to see if that is a fact but if it was on the radio, it must be true, right?
In Texas, they wear their guns proud. Other states, not so much. Me, don't own one, used to, had kids, read about accidental killing figured I would never get the lock box opened or gun loaded in time for protection anyway. Most likely woulda shot myself in the process.
My first husband made me carry a gun. Well, by making me meaning, I LOVED IT. But I didn't have kids at that time. Illegal, unlicened and under the seat. I will assume the statue of limitation is up after 43 years? He was a Viet Nam vet and had a gun with him at all times. Forget the empty gun rack in the window of the pickup truck, it was easier for him to strap on the pistol. Our practice range was a little different from what my Papaw used. Papaw gave us kids a 22 rifel and hung a pie plate on a tree with a LONG string. My husband threw bottles in the air. Now, I was a crack shot but even I could not hit a flying bottle or full beer can with a pistol.
I am a bit all over the place tonight but I am rambling, sorta required.
My best memory of bench seats? Scooting up close and an arm draped around my shoulders and the guy would say, "Shift". He would push in the clutch and I would move to the next gear, no matter where the shift stick was, comical at times, hard on trucks and cars all the time. My man would not let me go! I learned to drive what is now a classic GTO stick on the floor, at least I think it was a GTO. It was about 1966. How are kids these days going to have memories like that? They can't put down their smart phones long enough to know the eye color of their date for goodness sakes.
I recall the rattle of the guns on the rack, smell of field dressing due to the gear would be behind the seat, yet to be clean. Good way to ruin a sharp knife but I blinked my eyes and giggled like I had no idea what that horrible odor was.
The days of gun racks and bench seats are behind me. If I could fit my purse into one, I would have a Mini, gas is getting so high!!! I'm stuck with what I got cause I plan to retire in the next few months. That's okay, I just won't drive as far or as often.
For some reason, the disc jocky talking about the end of bench seats brought a wave of nostalgia that drug gun racks with it. As a parting picture for this entry. A member of my loving Ozark family, yep, we made amends and I am blessed for it. Good to know that althought my grandparents and parents are gone, the fundamental parts of childhood can be read in their pictures. So long bench seats, say hello to 8-track for me.
I can hardly remember dating a boy that didn't either drive his daddy's pick up with gun rack or own his own truck with gun rack when I was young, before I became older and more open minded. Or was it really just what every my family liked most I went the other way?? I was pretty rotten that way.
Back to the loss of bench seats.... surely not in pick up trucks!! I have not googled to see if that is a fact but if it was on the radio, it must be true, right?
In Texas, they wear their guns proud. Other states, not so much. Me, don't own one, used to, had kids, read about accidental killing figured I would never get the lock box opened or gun loaded in time for protection anyway. Most likely woulda shot myself in the process.
My first husband made me carry a gun. Well, by making me meaning, I LOVED IT. But I didn't have kids at that time. Illegal, unlicened and under the seat. I will assume the statue of limitation is up after 43 years? He was a Viet Nam vet and had a gun with him at all times. Forget the empty gun rack in the window of the pickup truck, it was easier for him to strap on the pistol. Our practice range was a little different from what my Papaw used. Papaw gave us kids a 22 rifel and hung a pie plate on a tree with a LONG string. My husband threw bottles in the air. Now, I was a crack shot but even I could not hit a flying bottle or full beer can with a pistol.
I am a bit all over the place tonight but I am rambling, sorta required.
My best memory of bench seats? Scooting up close and an arm draped around my shoulders and the guy would say, "Shift". He would push in the clutch and I would move to the next gear, no matter where the shift stick was, comical at times, hard on trucks and cars all the time. My man would not let me go! I learned to drive what is now a classic GTO stick on the floor, at least I think it was a GTO. It was about 1966. How are kids these days going to have memories like that? They can't put down their smart phones long enough to know the eye color of their date for goodness sakes.
I recall the rattle of the guns on the rack, smell of field dressing due to the gear would be behind the seat, yet to be clean. Good way to ruin a sharp knife but I blinked my eyes and giggled like I had no idea what that horrible odor was.
The days of gun racks and bench seats are behind me. If I could fit my purse into one, I would have a Mini, gas is getting so high!!! I'm stuck with what I got cause I plan to retire in the next few months. That's okay, I just won't drive as far or as often.
For some reason, the disc jocky talking about the end of bench seats brought a wave of nostalgia that drug gun racks with it. As a parting picture for this entry. A member of my loving Ozark family, yep, we made amends and I am blessed for it. Good to know that althought my grandparents and parents are gone, the fundamental parts of childhood can be read in their pictures. So long bench seats, say hello to 8-track for me.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Get That Should Away From ME!
It seems every place I look, I see a should!
I "should" mop the floor. I "should" organize my junk room. I "should" eat better. I "should" ____ fill in the blank. Anything would fit and today I was up to my neck in shoulds; at home and work, internal, external.
Finally I decided, I "should" give myself a break. Never intended on referring to my age, gender or anything else personal on this site. That plan was left in the dust many blogs ago. I discovered if someone is going to tell a story, it's impossible to keep it impersonal. Nice try though.
If you grew up anything like me, we were all "shoulded to death" by family and friends. You should wear your hair up, you should go to church more, you should use more salt when you cook, you should have chosen better when you got married!
That leads me to where my head is right now. My Ozark grandmother, who lived to almost 100 years old, never really understood the power she over me with her opinions. It wasn't just the boys in my family that were told, "Shake it off and keep going." My grandmother was a shining example of never giving up, keep moving forward, don't whine about what you don't have and find the gratitude for the life I made for myself.
Because of her, I am able to make some pretty happy decisions despite what seem like overwhelming challenges. I "should" be divorced right now. I am not. I "should" be focused on my own back nine at my age, instead, I chose to raise my grandson rather than leave him with a drug addicted mom or end up in the State's care. This story is on my other blog and too heavy for this one.
I "should" be retired and had I not taken in grandkids, made many trips to the Ozarks to see family, even when my family told me I wasn't welcomed, I would have a bank load of cash that went into a gas tank, into lodging and food on the road. I still drove the 12 hours so my grandkids would know each other. Since I wasn't welcomed at any family home, I stayed in local resorts, actually roach infested cabins. I made the best of what was not the greatest time. I also, over the years, took in "strays" of all ages (I mean friends of my kids and husband) to help support them when they had no one else at the time. They would stay anywhere from a few months to a few years.
Had I focused only on myself, I could have put that extra money aside and would be happily living on the Gulf coast with several IRA's paying for my icy cold longneck as I became a parot head wannabe watching beach vollyball games. Today, I decided to toot my own horn instead of beating myself up, In my life in general, I felt like I have had a lot of blessings. I chose share those blessings, to help others and believe they would be better for the help they received. I certainly feel no regret that I went into debt and lived hand to mouth so others would have a warm bed and a hot meal. I did my best to try to follow my grandmother's lessons, family is first and we can choose our family. I did my best to help keep my own family connected when it was actually pretty shattered.
Tonight, I won't "should" myself into washing dishes, doing laundry or even watching what I eat. Tonight I plan to "reload my spirit", ignore dirty dishes, dirty laundry, and clutter from a 10 year old who is with his daddy this weekend. I plan to get off that pity pot I have walking toward and instead have ice cream for dinner while I watch a trashy movie that must be in the 1000+ channels on my TV. Tonight I won't fight with myself. I will enjoy my own company along with Mr. Ben and Mr. Jerry.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Minis, Bugs and Fiat's....Am I still In Texas??
I admit it, I am a transplant. To make sure I keep my Hillbilly roots, I write them down or pass along in spoken word to others but I actually moved to Texas.
Have you looked at the job market in Arkansas? I went where I could work so here I am, having switched from pork to beef. (An obscure reference to Arkansas Razorbacks and Texas Longhorns)
What I noticed on my long drive home (actually I only live 4 miles from downtown Austin) was that there was an absence of pick up trucks. I have gotten to where I was used to dodging the long bed, short bed, restored, double cab, heavy duty, super duty, four wheels, six wheel wide bed, every make and model of pick up truck in the world as I try to remain invisible to these little car crushers on my way to way home.
What I saw were very many-Mini Coopers, Fiats of all colors but only one shape, as is standard with all three of these toy make believe cars. There were even convertable Fiats and these look smaller than the Mini Cooper, Mini gives a hint that your but is 2 inches from the street and feet almost to the front bumper! How in the world did they make them into convertables with no a hood smaller than my kitchen counter? What I have to admit that I liked the most was the creative colors for all these cars, well not the Fiats, they need to step it up on color. There were Mini's with strips, designs and just plain blue that could hurt your teeth (yeah, Hillbilly expression). The Beetles were in colors from blinding yellow to familiar rust that ate through the metal to make you question if these were bullet holes or acutally time had taken a few bites, leaving only a hint of the color it used to be.
The pick up truck isn't dying in Texas. There were still pleanty of the monsters pushing these little cars around but I wonder if a HEMI can be taken down by a swarm of Mini's?? Maybe I will get to witness this in my lifetime.
Have you looked at the job market in Arkansas? I went where I could work so here I am, having switched from pork to beef. (An obscure reference to Arkansas Razorbacks and Texas Longhorns)
What I noticed on my long drive home (actually I only live 4 miles from downtown Austin) was that there was an absence of pick up trucks. I have gotten to where I was used to dodging the long bed, short bed, restored, double cab, heavy duty, super duty, four wheels, six wheel wide bed, every make and model of pick up truck in the world as I try to remain invisible to these little car crushers on my way to way home.
What I saw were very many-Mini Coopers, Fiats of all colors but only one shape, as is standard with all three of these toy make believe cars. There were even convertable Fiats and these look smaller than the Mini Cooper, Mini gives a hint that your but is 2 inches from the street and feet almost to the front bumper! How in the world did they make them into convertables with no a hood smaller than my kitchen counter? What I have to admit that I liked the most was the creative colors for all these cars, well not the Fiats, they need to step it up on color. There were Mini's with strips, designs and just plain blue that could hurt your teeth (yeah, Hillbilly expression). The Beetles were in colors from blinding yellow to familiar rust that ate through the metal to make you question if these were bullet holes or acutally time had taken a few bites, leaving only a hint of the color it used to be.
The pick up truck isn't dying in Texas. There were still pleanty of the monsters pushing these little cars around but I wonder if a HEMI can be taken down by a swarm of Mini's?? Maybe I will get to witness this in my lifetime.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Things I Learned from Day Time TV
I put my time to good use while on Family Medical Leave by getting educated in what programers believe daytime TV viewers need to know and by companies that are willing to pay for TV time let us viewers know what we are missing (we being John and Jane Q public).
If you had a fall in the last year (who hasn't?) you meet one of 5 qualifications for an electronic scooter to get around your home and become more involved with outdoor's activities. I would like one for the beach please.
My knives suck. I must have the ones that can cut cans. Although, for the life of me, I can't recall every having to cut a can to make a meal??
I learned I need to be on many more medications than I am right now, the symptoms I need to give my doctor to assure I will get these medications and oh my goodness, how did I survive without them?
My blender sucks. There are amazing blenders that replace 6 kitchen tools I don't even own, of course I don't cook either. I microwave.
With one call, I can change my life!! So many ways but the best one was not the amazing non stick pans, it was to get a degree with a guarantee of a job after graduation. They said so, it must be true. I can do this in my spare time on line, in my PJ's and bunny slippers, cool. I decided I want to be either a brain surgeon or a blacksmith. You are all invited to my graduation, maybe I will do both, they are so afordable.
I am not prepared to retire, ever, unless I follow some easy steps. All the numbers are toll free, what a relief.
I have every number, every agency, every person I need to talk to about preparing for retirement or pre planning my funeral! Well, I am on the "back nine". I learned so much about Medicare and it isn't as caring as it sounds. WE all need additional insurance to make sure we don't go right to the funeral part. So many gadgets to have at home it would almost pass standards for a hospital itself, cool......
Best of all.... I can get a cure for all of my additions, there are many but ice cream being the worse, without that pesky 12 step program. This can be done on a white sand beach in a spa like setting and there is almost a guarantee on cure. Awsome, although I'd miss my ice cream.
If you had a fall in the last year (who hasn't?) you meet one of 5 qualifications for an electronic scooter to get around your home and become more involved with outdoor's activities. I would like one for the beach please.
My knives suck. I must have the ones that can cut cans. Although, for the life of me, I can't recall every having to cut a can to make a meal??
I learned I need to be on many more medications than I am right now, the symptoms I need to give my doctor to assure I will get these medications and oh my goodness, how did I survive without them?
My blender sucks. There are amazing blenders that replace 6 kitchen tools I don't even own, of course I don't cook either. I microwave.
With one call, I can change my life!! So many ways but the best one was not the amazing non stick pans, it was to get a degree with a guarantee of a job after graduation. They said so, it must be true. I can do this in my spare time on line, in my PJ's and bunny slippers, cool. I decided I want to be either a brain surgeon or a blacksmith. You are all invited to my graduation, maybe I will do both, they are so afordable.
I am not prepared to retire, ever, unless I follow some easy steps. All the numbers are toll free, what a relief.
I have every number, every agency, every person I need to talk to about preparing for retirement or pre planning my funeral! Well, I am on the "back nine". I learned so much about Medicare and it isn't as caring as it sounds. WE all need additional insurance to make sure we don't go right to the funeral part. So many gadgets to have at home it would almost pass standards for a hospital itself, cool......
Best of all.... I can get a cure for all of my additions, there are many but ice cream being the worse, without that pesky 12 step program. This can be done on a white sand beach in a spa like setting and there is almost a guarantee on cure. Awsome, although I'd miss my ice cream.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Life Ain't Always A Hootenanny
I've been away from my blog for a while. Either poop just happens or if you believe in Karma, I was a really bad person in a former life. I will know in September if I will celebrate with a hoe down or be facing a show down.
I had a little cough for a while, was told it was viral on July 26th, to stay home the next day, a Friday, and rest. I recently returned to work, this week and Friends, I thought I was gonna die!
The cherry on top you ask? Well there's whip cream to look forward to also. Cherry first. My own daughter robbed my house the week I was in the hospital! She is a topic for another blog. I came home to a messier house than I left, almost impossible but true.
The whipped cream? Although the diagnosis is pneumonia, an abnormal CT scan has led me to a terrifying wait for a follow up CT scan. I am a breast cancer survivor of 7 years. NO cancer survivor wants to hear, "There's just too much fluid to tell if there is a mass in that lower left lobe. Although you clearly have pneumonia, see your oncologist for another CT to see if a cancer spread." WHAT the POOP!
I patiently waited for my lungs to heal (did you know it takes up to 6 weeks?) then had the follow up CT, not to worry. I will be here for a while longer, unless I get his by a bus or a tree falls on me.
I haven't been on line much at all, was just too sick. I have a friend who told me I am now an official member of the Ass Wipers Club (older women who help each other when in need). Everyone should have such a club. They took such good care of me.
As for my my criminal of a daughter? She is not allowed back to my home and I have stopped contact, again! This has been going on over 20 years and why I am raising a 10 year old at my age. I plan to do a blog in the future, addressing life with a meth addicted child. Maybe call it Crystal Falls. What do you think I should call it?
Thanks to my friends who checked my blog during my long respite. I hate to be real here in the present, it's so much easier to live in younger past with Roy Rogers, Dale Evans, Sky King and Howdy Doody! Signing off for now folks but I will be back!
I had a little cough for a while, was told it was viral on July 26th, to stay home the next day, a Friday, and rest. I recently returned to work, this week and Friends, I thought I was gonna die!
The cherry on top you ask? Well there's whip cream to look forward to also. Cherry first. My own daughter robbed my house the week I was in the hospital! She is a topic for another blog. I came home to a messier house than I left, almost impossible but true.
The whipped cream? Although the diagnosis is pneumonia, an abnormal CT scan has led me to a terrifying wait for a follow up CT scan. I am a breast cancer survivor of 7 years. NO cancer survivor wants to hear, "There's just too much fluid to tell if there is a mass in that lower left lobe. Although you clearly have pneumonia, see your oncologist for another CT to see if a cancer spread." WHAT the POOP!
I patiently waited for my lungs to heal (did you know it takes up to 6 weeks?) then had the follow up CT, not to worry. I will be here for a while longer, unless I get his by a bus or a tree falls on me.
I haven't been on line much at all, was just too sick. I have a friend who told me I am now an official member of the Ass Wipers Club (older women who help each other when in need). Everyone should have such a club. They took such good care of me.
As for my my criminal of a daughter? She is not allowed back to my home and I have stopped contact, again! This has been going on over 20 years and why I am raising a 10 year old at my age. I plan to do a blog in the future, addressing life with a meth addicted child. Maybe call it Crystal Falls. What do you think I should call it?
Thanks to my friends who checked my blog during my long respite. I hate to be real here in the present, it's so much easier to live in younger past with Roy Rogers, Dale Evans, Sky King and Howdy Doody! Signing off for now folks but I will be back!
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Death Penalty?
I was listening to the raido only a few minutes ago and the DJ's were talking about Colorado debating on whether to seek the Death penalty for a mass murderer.
Still stunned, sitting here wondering, what is the debate? I won't get on my soapbox about an eye for an eye, who can and can not play God but there is already a law on the books! Colorado has the death penalty. When would be a good time to seek a death penalty if not now?
I know many people who do not believe in the death penalty, my husband is one of those, many of my best friends. This is why I love America, we can have different opinions and no one goes to jail for expressing their belief about politics, religion or whether to be a vegan but it is too hard for me to think this guy will live his life out on tax dollars as he inflates his ego each time a book is written about him, a write or news reporter requests an interview on camera, then he gets to read about himself getting more famous, knows he will be in history books, studied in colleges and in fact, never forgotten.
We don't want to forget events like this, we learn from them but to grant a gift to the murderer who made this happen, to allow him to watch his fame grow as we feed him, cloth him and shelter him for the rest of his life makes me feel ill. It is my belief he will surpass the fame of the Manson Murders and the number of books, movies and documentaries about Manson spins my head. How long ago were the Manson murders and his fame has not faded.
To me, seeking life in prison will only inflate his ego, confirmed to him that he did the right thing and look at the fame as his legacy.
There is a lot of talk in many states about revamping gun laws. Every time my daughter sees this on TV she shakes her head and says, guns laws only work for the people who follow the law.
Off my soap box now.
Still stunned, sitting here wondering, what is the debate? I won't get on my soapbox about an eye for an eye, who can and can not play God but there is already a law on the books! Colorado has the death penalty. When would be a good time to seek a death penalty if not now?
I know many people who do not believe in the death penalty, my husband is one of those, many of my best friends. This is why I love America, we can have different opinions and no one goes to jail for expressing their belief about politics, religion or whether to be a vegan but it is too hard for me to think this guy will live his life out on tax dollars as he inflates his ego each time a book is written about him, a write or news reporter requests an interview on camera, then he gets to read about himself getting more famous, knows he will be in history books, studied in colleges and in fact, never forgotten.
We don't want to forget events like this, we learn from them but to grant a gift to the murderer who made this happen, to allow him to watch his fame grow as we feed him, cloth him and shelter him for the rest of his life makes me feel ill. It is my belief he will surpass the fame of the Manson Murders and the number of books, movies and documentaries about Manson spins my head. How long ago were the Manson murders and his fame has not faded.
To me, seeking life in prison will only inflate his ego, confirmed to him that he did the right thing and look at the fame as his legacy.
There is a lot of talk in many states about revamping gun laws. Every time my daughter sees this on TV she shakes her head and says, guns laws only work for the people who follow the law.
Off my soap box now.
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