Saturday, July 5, 2014

*boom* in the night

Well kids, today is here and the fireworks stands are crowded with kids and strapped parents trying to afford something to celebrate with. My favorites are roman candles and sparklers. We had both when I was a kid and daddy taught me to hold them away from the body so as not to shoot a hole in your belly. My evil twin the procrastinator has been in charge lately but I'm determined to have this house clean by the time I do the shoulder thing because it will drive me crazy to sit there looking at a nasty house for six weeks. I'm kind of doing social detox slowly because there will be no tapping on the keyboard for a long time. Feel free to visit my past if you so desire during this brief hiatus.

We have picked up, eaten and cleaned up our BBQ from Hog Heaven all in less than an hour. BG used to work for the owner doing catering jobs and today is his 50th birthday. I remember them decorating like 90 Christmas trees for parties back in the day. It took everybody and their unpaid brother to get it done before the corporate types came in for their steak dinner. I ran into my old friend Johnny at the dolla' store today and he asked about the fam because we go wayyyy back to Best Western days. He works at Lupo's only now, formerly walking from one job to the other every day. I haven't stayed up long enough to see fireworks in several years because there's always early work or something. This will probably be no exception to that rule because my eyes popped open at 6:45 this morning, but even then it was two hours more than usual. The floor in my room is covered with dirty clothes and I tripped over a blanket during the night ALMOST injuring the arm even more. As it turns out, I think I broke my bird finger or jammed it at the very least. Good thing I've got naproxen.

My brother who is always on top of every freakin' thing asked if I had read the email from corporate about the ladies who came to visit. He got together by phone with them and got the history of a lot of things, including Peony Ridge. There is a neat row of pink peonies over by Faith's grave in the pine grove. I spent two or three years cleaning out a spot that had been buried in compost for ten years. Which was of course back when I was much much younger and had boundless energy for outdoor activities. Now I'm just too damn sore to do anything but look and enjoy. My friend Cathy B warned me not to do something stupid like cleaning off a fence row after surgery. Heh. She knows me well!


~And here it is now July 5th and not only did I not see the fireworks, I never saw sunset. And I slept until sunrise today and woke up sore as hell from all the cleaning yesterday. It's do or die time with a low census at Casa Poops for awhile. My greatest joy is walking from room to room without crawling the baby gate!! I do miss them terribly and I'm hoping we can continue to do whatever it is you call what we're doing here. Homesteading? Halfway housing? I'm not sure but I wouldn't trade the experience for the world. My old hippie self always did dream of life on a commune. The father of Tennessee hippies died this week and it's pretty much a sad thing with the passing of that era. Putting on a dollar store shirt with a peace sign somehow isn't the same.

I do notice a surge in voter interest this year for the first time in a LONG time. The emerging discussions include "wasting" your vote on an independent candidate. If I were Bernie Sanders, I'd not pay heed to that one. "Third" party keeps cropping up which is stupid because it would be one more reason for a super PAC. What is needed is simply this: Congress needs to get off their well paid asses and go home if they can't play nice. No exceptions. Take away the perks and see how many of them want the job! The irony of all that is in the wealth that almost always gets them into office. Rant over.

My neighbor, the "special" family had their music bumped up late yesterday afternoon but I let 'em go with it because hey, those kids need something to keep their minds occupied between church van visits. If I had a dime for every welfare check they've had I would be rich. I remember once when Gumby was living there and let a guy move in his ex-wife showed up and the law was there and it was a bunch of drama. This was the very same guy who left a gorgeous pit named Velvet to freeze to death tied to a tree out back. Bastard.

Peace~Love~Grace







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