Friday, April 27, 2012

When Life Hands You Shit, Plant a Fucking Garden

 I’ve been away for a little while…gardening.

 Let me rephrase that, I’ve been “gardening.”

Life’s been busy doling out the shit piles and I’ve been busy making sure it doesn’t go higher than my knees hips waist armpits eyeballs.

 Sigh.

 I’ll try to keep the woes to a minimum, because to be honest with you, there haven’t been all that many lately, it’s just that they’ve all been doozies. Doo-zies. The rest of the crap is just that: crap. Daily obnoxiousness of job and family keeping me standing at the ready with the shovel. I’m starting to think I should invest in a large fan and just start dishing the shit right back.

 I know a lot of the problems are not helped by me being a bit of an overprotective mother enabler. I’ve been busy helping Spawn get moved. They lived in that tiny apartment for eight years, and in that time, things kind of get embedded in places. There’s a lot of clean up to do and it all has to be done by this weekend.

That apartment has those cupboards that you only open twice: once when you move in and fill it with crap, and again when you move out and rediscover your treasures. Tiny apartment crammed with two people and all their pre-apartment stuff and then all the stuff that accumulates via gifts, and a hoarder complex, and three cats…

Soon-To-Be-Ex-Spawn-In-Law is of the opinion that picking up after himself was something he preferred to not do. Spawn is also not the greatest in that department, so things were a little…uhhh… it was crowded in that tiny abode. Then came the split and S.T.B.E.S.I.L. took what he wanted and left the rest. All the rest of EVERYTHING for Spawn to manage. Including the clean up. It’s been overwhelming because we can’t go over there as often as we’d like because we’re too damn tired after work. (The “we” I’m referring to is Tam and I, Spawn goes over there every day after work).

This coming weekend is the last one we have to make the place shine and I’m thinking fuck the shine, we’ll be lucky if we can make it not sticky and covered in cat fur. Spawn’s been good about cutting her losses and moving on, but I look at the things being thrown away and my first thought is of waste. But I can no longer step in and try to salvage her life. I must allow her to turn the pages of that chapter. It’s really, REALLY hard folks. Really. I love my son-in-law very much, and my heart aches at what he and Spawn are going through. I’m also very sad for his parents because I have an idea of what they’re going through. This is hard. It’s all hard, but I'm learning to handle it.

 My sons have been amazing throughout this upheaval, helping at the apartment when they can, pitching in and just supporting. I’ll be glad when this weekend is over and I can start focusing on my own home once again. Things are starting to pile up around here.

 I talked to my mother recently, filling her in on most of the gory details of the big move. When I alluded to the fact that I believe Spawn would benefit from therapy for her housekeeping issues, my mother asked if I thought the same about her. I said yes.

 Because I’m an idiot, that’s why, so if you were wondering what all that screaming and wailing and gnashing of teeth was this past week, now you know. It was my mother being faced with my un-sugarcoated opinion.

 We have what feels like a shit ton of cats (there are 4), and thankfully they are all adjusting to the new living arrangements. Tam was sure it would be a nightmare, but they settled in a lot faster than we expected. The old lady cat is feeling much better now that she has room to run, and she’s become quite the matriarch. The young thing is still pretty skittish, but she’s decided I’m ok and will frequently grace me with her presence. I’m still going to take her to the vet and get her fixed though.

I have a manuscript I'm trying to edit. I’m only on the second run through with it, but I’ve already hit a large section of wall that would not allow me to pass. I’ve managed to push my way into that particular section, and I have a good idea where to go with the rest of it, but it’s such a large chunk, and it’s going to change a great deal of how the story reads, that it feels overwhelming and I’m constantly tempted to just pitch the entire mess into the fireplace and become a reclusive…recluse, and I’d totally do that, except for the job that I need in order to pay the bills...BREATHE!

The job is still there, and we’ve all reached that time of year when we’re just more than a little bit burned out and must decide if we want to come back to it for the next year. I’m thinking about it. Actually, I said I would, but I also did a little research into other job possibilities within the district and I’m keeping my options open. Whenever I begin to doubt that decision, I look at the scars on my arm and know those doubts are good for me to have. Spring has sprung with all the zaniness of bizarre weather, weird behavior, and a plethora of allergies that have made us all want to crawl under the house and hum with the feral cats living down there. (They’re not really humming, they’re growling at each other, but it sounds like humming to us.)

Now Google went and changed Blogger so I have no fucking clue how I’m going to post this thing. (P.S. I HATE the "new" blogger layout for posting. It really pisses me off.)

I think it’s time to plug in that fan.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Friday Night Life

It's Friday.

Tam and I are spending it at home, with Most Minor Minion. They're playing Plants vs. Zombies, I'm dinking around online, and we're all listening to David Bowie.

Fame! Golden Years! Ziggy Stardust!

It's like being in high school all over again, only the cats are the ones with the weed while Tam and I are drinking wine while I embarrass myself by admitting I never knew Major Tom was about a heroin overdose.

Yup. Just like high school. Hanging around with my best girl, getting a buzz, and being a dork when it comes to understanding songs.

Wham, bam, thank you Ma'am!

Friday's are awesome.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

A Not-So-Brief Recap

I was informed that I needed to do a new blog post. The one about my hair is boring. Hey, I have a good excuse for not posting. Several good excuses and none of them are unblogworthy. At least, that’s how I want my tombstone to read: “It was all blogworthy.” Either that, or “I need to put this on my blog.”

Not that I’m planning on dying any time soon, so all that could change. Of course, for a while there, I wasn’t sure…

One Flu Over the Nut House.

The last week of March I came down with a swell case of the flu. Not the 24 hour stomach virus that everyone calls the flu, oh no, this was the real McCoy: three days of high fever, sore throat, coughing, and misery. I missed four days of work that week. Of course, it was the week when none of the kids were coming because they were also all sick. Why can’t I be sick when they’re all there being their usual wonderful selves?

Ugh. Anyway, I’m all better now, but there was a point when I thought I was going to end up in the hospital. Remember kids, when you’re sick and running a fever, DRINK YOUR LIQUIDS! That was when things finally started turning around for me.

Then came Friday, the last working day of the month and the start of spring break.

But Wait, This Is Where Things Get Weird

Spring break started nothing like we’d planned. Before I got sick, we were planning on heading south to visit my folks for a few days, then swinging up to the beach to round out the week with a couple relaxing days at the cabin. When we realized I wasn’t going to be up to the seven hour ride to the Southern Kingdom, we scuttled those plans and just headed to the beach mid-week.

Of course, before all that could happen, we needed to get our schedules synchronized with Spawn because once again, we were being called upon to rescue some pets that could no longer share her domicile. Then she came down with the flu and we decided to just go to the beach and we’d deal with the critters later.

Most Minor Minion joined us on our trip, as it had been several years since he was last at the cabin. We all had a great time, relaxing, playing video games, reading (have I got a book to share! Woo-hoo! But that’s later…) and sleeping. We cruised the town, walked the beach, and flew a kite. We watched the weather go from one extreme to another and loved every moment of it. None of us wanted to leave, but the week was winding down and there were preparations we needed to make at home.

The Really Weird Part

After seven years Spawn and The Butcher have decided to call it quits. It’s been coming for a while. Mistakes and choices were made, and that was it. I’m very sad about it, because The Butcher is still my son-in-law and I will always have a soft spot in my heart for him. Some day, I hope Spawn will feel the same and they’ll stop throwing stones at each other. Being on “this side” of a divorce is very different and I’m doing my best to remain calm, level-headed, and supportive to both parties.

It’s hard, yo! I want to shake the shit out of both of them. At first, they were just separating until they could find a better place to live, one without a kajillion stairs so The Butcher could get around easier. His MS is progressing and he can’t quite manage things like he used to. He moved in with his folks, and Spawn landed with friends in a near by city. Then shit happened, hit the fan, and took no prisoners.

Remember when we took in the Winged Menace? Well, now we’ve opened our doors to two of their three cats. Spawn is a rescuer, but does not have the experience to know when to say “NO!” which is how she ended up with three cats. Three. In a very tiny, one-bedroom apartment. Anyway, with the living situation getting all crazy and shit, Spawn called and asked if we could take in two cats. She is living with people who are very allergic to the beasties and The Butcher’s folks said they couldn’t handle it.

The one we’re not taking is not a nice cat. She needs to be an only in a family with no children, no birds, no dogs, maybe fish, maybe not. She is slightly evil, and has been known to summon demons in her sleep. At least that’s what her siblings said, but they’ve been known to exaggerate a bit. She’s a lovely gray, with long legs. She leaps like a ballerina and lands like a linebacker. For such a little bit of a thing, she sure packs a wallop!

She also hates other cats. It took her a long time to warm up to the others when she was brought into the nest. Integrating her into OUR nest was not something we were up to, so we had to say no. All things considered, it was a wise choice, even if it was a bit heartbreaking.

We brought the other girls into our home and set them up in the futility room. One took up residence under the sink, while the other staked out the space behind the dryer. Crash and Burn were NOT thrilled and made their displeasure known by hissing, humming, and barfing.

The new girls were unimpressed and for a while neither of them would consider relinquishing their hiding spots, but finally the old cat, Miss Crone, ventured forth and endured the glad tidings of joy thrown their way by the resident evils. The Spook, however, will only come out when carried, and then only if you can convince her to get within arms’ reach. Not easy, when she’s ensconced under the utility sink.

Miss Crone has claimed an old pillow and a relatively high spot that keeps her safe. She’s a special needs kitty who is allergic to a lot of things put in cat food. It got so bad for a while, she lost a lot of weight and part of her lip from all the throwing up she was doing. They almost lost her and she has a permanent sneer from the ordeal. She’s a survivor and a total love. She’s mostly white with some brindle-type markings on her. It also looks like she got a bit carried away with the eyeliner.

The Spook is almost solid black, which is why she’s kind of hard to see under the sink or behind the dryer. She’s also young and unfixed, which will be the next order of havoc I’m going to wreak on that poor feline (and my budget). She’s also very loving but extremely jumpy. That combination can result in some serious pain when she’s climbing over you in order to escape whatever horror is coming her way, especially when that horror is anything that moves or makes noise. Tam opened the shower doors and I nearly had a face-ectomy. Ok, I was a little distracted myself, so I’ll take part of that blame, but come ON, naked woman! Bewbs! Other bits! Crazed cat!

Good times, folks, good times.

Well, vacation is over and we start the long haul to summer break. The next 10 weeks will be long and grumpifying, but oh, so worth it.