Gramma,
Happy Halloween. Saturday night's annual Witches Ball was a success. The bike club and some of the Christmas cookie exchange group were in attendance. My floors are covered with leaf litter and footprints. Despite rain much of the day, the guys were able to get a bonfire going with a blow torch.
Blood spurted from a steak stuffed into the neck of the headless guy. I warned him to step away from a quilt that had taken months to make. The flasher's interpretive dance included a stuffed pantyhose appendage, which Freddy Krueger tried to filet. The priest and nun were unsuccessful at saving souls.
Two zombie girls spent hours in the upstairs bathroom doing their makeup. They didn't even take a break to refresh beverages. I checked on them to make sure they weren't locked in. The temperamental door intermittently requires someone from the outside to open it. That can be scary in an unfamiliar house with a haunted reputation. The noise coming from the Halloween village on the main floor drowned out the screaming and door pounding coming from upstairs.
One of the cookie exchange girls showed up late, drunk and disorderly. A big joint was hanging out of her mouth. She is not a big pot smoker, but thought it would be cool to ask people for a light. Her ex-husband-to-be had been a club member, but was kicked out for causing too many mandatory meetings with the Hell's Angels, Girlfriend did not help his cause. It is bad form to criticize another club when you are at a party on their turf.
She decided to kiss all the guys around the fire, claiming it was her birthday and she could do as she pleased. She was also dancing around in dark corners with a member who was there with his girlfriend. This too, is bad form. She will not be invited to anymore events where club members are present. I was glad when her driver dragged her out to the car. I would imagine she is still recovering. Drunkeness and diabetes is not a good combination.
Family drama kept another couple away. The evil drunken mother of two grandchildren threw the family dog out of a moving truck. Then she tried to choke her ex-husband, threatening to kill him and get custody of the kids. This is while he was driving. The kids were screaming. They told the police they never wanted to see her again.
One of the cookie exchange girls and her husband were headed to North Dakota to support the pipeline protest. Otherwise, almost everyone showed up. Two of the dogs were dressed as wieners. Two were sent to their boxes for trying to mark guests as their territory.
As witches arrived, I was just getting out of the shower. There wasn't time to put on some Christmas music. I should have gotten up earlier, but we were out late the night before celebrating at a surprise birthday party.
A friend spent the night and helped put food away. It had taken me all month to prepare for this event. Sunday was spent on the couch watching bad t.v. Then the Packers lost by one point. I shouldn't have chosen to watch NatGeo after that. Seeing the planet destruct from global warming is the stuff of nightmares.
The gates are open for brave trick-or-treaters, It is over fifty degrees here in the northwoods. As I can't keep candy in the house without it disappearing, the kids are getting mardi-gras beads. The grandkids will be here next weekend to help take down the mess. Their next visit will be to install Christmas, much less involved than Halloween.
Showing posts with label Disrespect. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Disrespect. Show all posts
Monday, October 31, 2016
Monday, July 11, 2016
The Cheese Stands Alone
Gramma,
Dave stayed home today. I don't like that he gives me no advance warning. He knew this on Friday. I plan my days around his schedule. So now I can't spend all day in bed with my boyfriend. Dave is practicing for retirement. Two years till go time. He will have knee surgery and then shoulder surgery. He's hoping he can skate out on that.
Summer TV is pretty dreary. We often watch several episodes of Orange is the New Black in the evening. I binge watched the series while visiting my daughter in Denver two years ago. Granted, I was drinking copious quantities of beer and ingesting pot candy, but I don't remember a lot of details. This concerns me, as my brother is only 52 and has early onset Alzheimer's.
As a former guest of the Wisconsin DOC, I find Orange is the New Black to be a good rendition of how things are. Whites were the minority. Crimes were mostly drug related. My crime of Solicitation of Murder was highly revered, so I didn't get a lot of shit that new inmates get. Nothing there is secret. Inmates worked in the office and had access to information. I had been in the state nut hut for a couple months being evaluated for trial. This gave me the added security of being seen as a loose cannon. I was classified as violent and dangerous.
I was pretty much white bread back woods with no priors. NO STREET SMARTS. I was in church choir, garden club, president of the Fine Arts Board, and worked on Love Baskets at Christmas. I was a secretary where I worked, until I had ten years in and was vested for retirement. Then I grew ginseng for export. We had forty acres of woods to grow it on. I lived in mosquito heaven with three kids and their sperm donor.
I compartmentalized my life--there was this life with my spousal unit and his abusive behavior, the public façade with him, and life with my kids, friends, and work. I led a double life. I didn't have the words or knowledge necessary to understand what he was doing to me. There was some physical abuse, but the majority was emotional, sexual and financial. Even when he was around, he was rarely available to us. When he was, it was mostly not pretty.
The last straw was when he did something to our oldest son that made him attempt suicide. I came home from choir practice to find that he had been taken to a mental health facility more than an hour away. His younger bother was sitting in a rocking chair in a fetal position. The police had surrounded the house and confiscated a gun.
I called his father at work. "What do you want me to do about it," he barked. "I just thought you would want to know." The paternal grandparents blamed me. I went to see an attorney.
After I filed for divorce, things escalated. Marriage counseling was an utter failure. He had done nothing wrong. And, so the stalking, gunfire, harassment and manipulation began. His family was well-known in the area. Friends and acquaintances backed away from me. The cheese stands alone.
Dave stayed home today. I don't like that he gives me no advance warning. He knew this on Friday. I plan my days around his schedule. So now I can't spend all day in bed with my boyfriend. Dave is practicing for retirement. Two years till go time. He will have knee surgery and then shoulder surgery. He's hoping he can skate out on that.
Summer TV is pretty dreary. We often watch several episodes of Orange is the New Black in the evening. I binge watched the series while visiting my daughter in Denver two years ago. Granted, I was drinking copious quantities of beer and ingesting pot candy, but I don't remember a lot of details. This concerns me, as my brother is only 52 and has early onset Alzheimer's.
As a former guest of the Wisconsin DOC, I find Orange is the New Black to be a good rendition of how things are. Whites were the minority. Crimes were mostly drug related. My crime of Solicitation of Murder was highly revered, so I didn't get a lot of shit that new inmates get. Nothing there is secret. Inmates worked in the office and had access to information. I had been in the state nut hut for a couple months being evaluated for trial. This gave me the added security of being seen as a loose cannon. I was classified as violent and dangerous.
I was pretty much white bread back woods with no priors. NO STREET SMARTS. I was in church choir, garden club, president of the Fine Arts Board, and worked on Love Baskets at Christmas. I was a secretary where I worked, until I had ten years in and was vested for retirement. Then I grew ginseng for export. We had forty acres of woods to grow it on. I lived in mosquito heaven with three kids and their sperm donor.
I compartmentalized my life--there was this life with my spousal unit and his abusive behavior, the public façade with him, and life with my kids, friends, and work. I led a double life. I didn't have the words or knowledge necessary to understand what he was doing to me. There was some physical abuse, but the majority was emotional, sexual and financial. Even when he was around, he was rarely available to us. When he was, it was mostly not pretty.
The last straw was when he did something to our oldest son that made him attempt suicide. I came home from choir practice to find that he had been taken to a mental health facility more than an hour away. His younger bother was sitting in a rocking chair in a fetal position. The police had surrounded the house and confiscated a gun.
I called his father at work. "What do you want me to do about it," he barked. "I just thought you would want to know." The paternal grandparents blamed me. I went to see an attorney.
After I filed for divorce, things escalated. Marriage counseling was an utter failure. He had done nothing wrong. And, so the stalking, gunfire, harassment and manipulation began. His family was well-known in the area. Friends and acquaintances backed away from me. The cheese stands alone.
Thursday, July 7, 2016
Shit Barrel
Gramma,
It's hot and sunny with no wind. It's supposed to rain later today. I hope so. Yesterday I went to buy wild bird seed and came home from Fleet Farm $300.00 lighter. Plants were seventy-five percent off. I also bought candy. I had to go home and get the truck. The back of my van could only fit so much. No garage-sales for the rest of this month.
I've been planting for a three hours and need to take an extended break. Too much heat makes me sick and I end up down for the rest of the day. I'm resisting the urge to take a nap. I've eaten a pound of maple nut goodies and the sugar spike doesn't help. Princess, my minnie Aussie, is in heat. She is whiney and taking a nap. Nobody would know if I took a nap too. But, I am full of dirt, so no.
My daughter-in-law seems to be avoiding me--not returning my calls. I wanted the kids for a few days during the week. They keep me upright. The hell with it, just an hour is all. An hour and twenty minutes later, I head back out to dig more holes. I wasn't sleeping, but I wasn't moving.
Girlfriend called this morning to tell me how crappy her mini-vacation was. She took her soon to be ex-husband's sister with her. Why is beyond me. Icky Vicky whined the whole time about her husband and her brother. The rule was that neither of those things were up for discussion. Vicky said she didn't think that was going to work for her and wouldn't shut up. No hotel reservations over the Fourth equaled a $200.00 a night room. They came back from Michigan early.
Another girlfriend called to tell me the latest drama with her kids. One of her grandsons didn't want to hang out with his cousin while gramma spent time with her sisters. So brat boy calls his daddy and protests loudly. Daddy calls gramma and gives her what for about not watching his kids (for free).
Gramma dropped the kids off anyway. The granddaughter tells the her aunt, a new mother, that she is a baby killer. One of her children died in a freak accident last year. Of course, she heard that from her dad, who is, of course, an asshole. So, the texting started between the two brothers.
"You're a bad parent. Your kid died because you weren't watching him."
"You're a bad parent. Maybe you should have given your daughter up for adoption at birth so she wouldn't have gotten molested by your in-laws.
"You should get a job and maybe your wife wouldn't fuck around on you with your best friend, loser."
You should quit your job and quit embarrassing dad with your shitty work." (They work for the same outfit and the kid is a fuckup.) "Shove another turkey baster of meth up your ass."
Things deteriorated from there. We all have something. I am grateful for the peace and quiet of this day. It is not my turn in the shit barrel.
It's hot and sunny with no wind. It's supposed to rain later today. I hope so. Yesterday I went to buy wild bird seed and came home from Fleet Farm $300.00 lighter. Plants were seventy-five percent off. I also bought candy. I had to go home and get the truck. The back of my van could only fit so much. No garage-sales for the rest of this month.
I've been planting for a three hours and need to take an extended break. Too much heat makes me sick and I end up down for the rest of the day. I'm resisting the urge to take a nap. I've eaten a pound of maple nut goodies and the sugar spike doesn't help. Princess, my minnie Aussie, is in heat. She is whiney and taking a nap. Nobody would know if I took a nap too. But, I am full of dirt, so no.
My daughter-in-law seems to be avoiding me--not returning my calls. I wanted the kids for a few days during the week. They keep me upright. The hell with it, just an hour is all. An hour and twenty minutes later, I head back out to dig more holes. I wasn't sleeping, but I wasn't moving.
Girlfriend called this morning to tell me how crappy her mini-vacation was. She took her soon to be ex-husband's sister with her. Why is beyond me. Icky Vicky whined the whole time about her husband and her brother. The rule was that neither of those things were up for discussion. Vicky said she didn't think that was going to work for her and wouldn't shut up. No hotel reservations over the Fourth equaled a $200.00 a night room. They came back from Michigan early.
Another girlfriend called to tell me the latest drama with her kids. One of her grandsons didn't want to hang out with his cousin while gramma spent time with her sisters. So brat boy calls his daddy and protests loudly. Daddy calls gramma and gives her what for about not watching his kids (for free).
Gramma dropped the kids off anyway. The granddaughter tells the her aunt, a new mother, that she is a baby killer. One of her children died in a freak accident last year. Of course, she heard that from her dad, who is, of course, an asshole. So, the texting started between the two brothers.
"You're a bad parent. Your kid died because you weren't watching him."
"You're a bad parent. Maybe you should have given your daughter up for adoption at birth so she wouldn't have gotten molested by your in-laws.
"You should get a job and maybe your wife wouldn't fuck around on you with your best friend, loser."
You should quit your job and quit embarrassing dad with your shitty work." (They work for the same outfit and the kid is a fuckup.) "Shove another turkey baster of meth up your ass."
Things deteriorated from there. We all have something. I am grateful for the peace and quiet of this day. It is not my turn in the shit barrel.
Friday, May 13, 2016
There's Disrespect and There's Disrespect
Gramma
Dave and I went riding with the club on Saturday. Just as we were firing up the bikes, a friend called wanting to join us. He just had to brush his teeth and put on his socks, fifteen minutes tops. We ended up a half hour late because of Dawdles, and that was beating ass when he finally showed up.
The guys had their club meeting in a park chalet while the girls sat outside on a picnic table. As Dawdles is not a club member, he had to stay outside with the girls. He pulled out a Swisher Sweets cigar. I said, "You're not going to smoke that by me are you? I have the asthma." He lit up anyway. The smoke got the best of me and I had to go get my inhaler.
Meanwhile, Dawdles sat down in my spot. On the way to the chalet steps I said to the girls, "I don't mean to be anti-social, but I can't breathe." A friend came over to BS with me. There was some loud yelling coming from inside, but nothing discernable.
Pretty soon one of the younger guys came tearing out, yelling to his wife, "Are you ready to go?" as he started the bike. He had been disrespectful to the older guys, calling them pussies for not doing his bidding. Dave told him what for and he left.
Dawdles doesn't know how to group ride. He lags a quarter mile behind the guy in front of him, so all the other guys are in a whole different time zone. Group riding done properly is staggered and looks like a tight unit of bikes moving as one. I'm not OCD, but it drives me nuts when people don't get this. I told Dave later that if Dawdles called to go riding with us again, it would just be the two of them.
It was beautiful riding on the back roads. I was proud of myself for only drinking two beers at the bar stops. The diet is paying off. But not today. It's raining and I have eaten two dough gobs (pastry), half a bag of chocolate chips and an ice cream bar. Dave is bringing home pizza. The fireplace is going and I would like to be binge watching Netflix.
Dave and I went riding with the club on Saturday. Just as we were firing up the bikes, a friend called wanting to join us. He just had to brush his teeth and put on his socks, fifteen minutes tops. We ended up a half hour late because of Dawdles, and that was beating ass when he finally showed up.
The guys had their club meeting in a park chalet while the girls sat outside on a picnic table. As Dawdles is not a club member, he had to stay outside with the girls. He pulled out a Swisher Sweets cigar. I said, "You're not going to smoke that by me are you? I have the asthma." He lit up anyway. The smoke got the best of me and I had to go get my inhaler.
Meanwhile, Dawdles sat down in my spot. On the way to the chalet steps I said to the girls, "I don't mean to be anti-social, but I can't breathe." A friend came over to BS with me. There was some loud yelling coming from inside, but nothing discernable.
Pretty soon one of the younger guys came tearing out, yelling to his wife, "Are you ready to go?" as he started the bike. He had been disrespectful to the older guys, calling them pussies for not doing his bidding. Dave told him what for and he left.
Dawdles doesn't know how to group ride. He lags a quarter mile behind the guy in front of him, so all the other guys are in a whole different time zone. Group riding done properly is staggered and looks like a tight unit of bikes moving as one. I'm not OCD, but it drives me nuts when people don't get this. I told Dave later that if Dawdles called to go riding with us again, it would just be the two of them.
It was beautiful riding on the back roads. I was proud of myself for only drinking two beers at the bar stops. The diet is paying off. But not today. It's raining and I have eaten two dough gobs (pastry), half a bag of chocolate chips and an ice cream bar. Dave is bringing home pizza. The fireplace is going and I would like to be binge watching Netflix.
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