Who's idea was this to move ? I think I said those exact words a year ago when I was moving from house to condo. And yet here I am again in the middle of "Moving Week!" and I am questioning my sanity and praying for devine intervention to keep my back from breaking down into spasms of lightening bolts of pain.
It's been a while since my back "went out" as I refer to the all consuming pain of nerve endings in my spine shooting me the most incredible pain imaginable. It's one of those shocks of pain that just drops you to your knees and leaves you flat on your back wondering how you will ever get up again. There is no getting up at that point. You just resign yourself to laying on the floor for the rest of your life until the muscles in your back decide to release their hold. This usually takes several days and considerable amounts of mind numbing drugs and muscle relaxants along with about 2 weeks worth of visits to the chiropractor.
I have been managing to avoid these attacks with monthly visits to the chiropractor along with as many massages as I can afford. So far so good up to this point but I think I over did it yesterday.
The official move in date is this coming Thursday and I am in hyper mode of packing and moving
"Small" stuff into the new place to avoid having 30 boxes sitting in my living room here before the move and in my new place after the move. Abby is arriving for a visit a week after my move so I really want to have everything set before she gets here. Then I leave for 2 weeks in NY and I REALLY don't want to have to return to boxes still sitting in my new house.
And so I have been slowly dragging crap the half mile from old condo to new condo with the help of Keri and the kids. My daughter is amazing and all those visits to the gym have apparently paid off in her having the strength of 3 grand ma's. She keeps picking up boxes and commenting on "how light they are!". Yet I cannot lift these same boxes if my life depended on it. I packed them with the thought that the moving guys will carry them, that's what I'm paying them for. But having decided to get a jump on this I find myself wondering if I did indeed pack up some bricks along with my own junk. And by the way, Where did all this crap come from ?? I only moved here a year ago and at that time I weeded out soooooooooo much stuff in order to cram myself into this tiny space. Yet as I am packing I swear the junk has multiplied ten time over. I have already donated bags and bags of stuff to the thrift shop so where is this stuff coming from ???????
The joke of it all is that in moving from my tiny cave into the wonderful spacious new place I need to BUY furniture and more stuff. Remember those beds I had in the second bed room at my old house? I got rid of them because I only had one bedroom here. NOW I'm moving into a place with TWO bedrooms so guess what I have to purchase ! And where do I put the paper towels ? I got rid of my paper towel rack because it took up what little counter space I had. Now I have to get a new one.
I do wish the thrift stores kept all my stuff so I could just go there and get my own things back but no such luck. Instead I am hauling all sorts of things into the new place along with putting bed frames together, hanging curtains on rods that I have climbed up and down a ladder to get screwed into the wall and climbing up and down the step stool to fill cabinets that are way too tall for any human being that I know.
So do I wonder why I woke up at 4 AM with pains in my back ? I think perhaps the pains are from too much work and too much thinking. I hate this.
I'm NEVER going to move again!!!!
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Friday, September 22, 2017
AIR
Because I am now Sleepless in Florida one of the burning questions I have in life is " Why DO we have to pay for air at the gas station?"
This past week a little light on the dash board of my car brought be out of my sleep deprived fog warning me that one of my tires was low on air. I immediately got out of my car, (I hadn't left the parking spot yet, thank God) and checked all four tires. None of them looked low but who can tell when parked in a spot filled with storm debris. (When is this new community going to get around to picking up all this stuff? Yet another burning issue to ponder at 3AM.) I figured the low air issue was not at the level of Def Con 5 so I would be fine to travel the half mile between new condo and old. That was the last time I thought about it until I was half way to my appointment the following day and realized the little light was still on. When I got to where I was going I checked the tires again, fully expecting one of them to be border line FLAT but once again they all looked okay. HUM?
Now I have this light shining at me telling me I really should DO something. Being a woman of the 21st century I did not call for help but rather took the matter into my own hands.
The first gas station I went to did not HAVE air. How do you not have air??????? This totally made my day and the ensuing blog started writing it's self inside my brain. How do you NOT have air? A burning question when you think about it. We have air all around us so how does the machine that pumps that air into my tire RUN OUT? The sign on the machine said exactly that, "OUT OF AIR".
Not, "Broken", or "Electric out", (this was a week after a hurricane blew through and there were still lots of places without power), or even just a red circle with a line through it showing this was not a functioning machine. After I stopped laughing I drove on to gas station #2 which didn't have an air machine. How does a gas station not have a machine for pumping air into tires. It's a gas station for goodness sake? Shaking my head over that one I continued on to station #3. Ah Ha ! An air machine, and it's working and there is no one there using it! All my planets were in alinement except I had to PAY for this air!
I swear I stood there for at least a minute questioning my sanity and wondering why you had to pay for air. (I realize the station is using their electricity to power the machine but seriously, paying for air?) Now comes the question of, "Do I have any change to put into this dumb ass machine?", The search for four quarters was entertaining it itself, looking under the seat, digging through my purse, collecting the change from the little pocket on the console. No one I know carries actual money on them any more, no less burdensome coins. (With the exception of that little old lady at the check out at Publix who takes 20 minutes digging through her coin purse for the EXACT change while you stand there screaming in your head, "Use a credit card for God sake!) I also know I could have gone into the gas station and asked for change of a dollar but who has a dollar any more and changing a twenty just seemed a little rediculous. I did manage to come up with 4 quarters which I inserted into the machine with the result of it turning on so I could pump air into the tires. Sounds easy enough right? Some air machines, the ones I like, have a gage on the front of the machine that you set to the desired PSI, (which means pounds per square inch as I learned from my dad). You set the number and pump the air and when your tire reaches the desired inflation the machine shuts off. Nice !! But those machines are the free ones. THIS machine had a tire gage on the nozzle so as you pressed the nozzle on the tire valve the gage popped out to tell you how much air was in your tire. You then would continue to pump air into the tire until the gage read the number of pounds you desired. As simple as that sounds it was a disaster. The gage would only pop out for a second or two and as soon as you took the gage off the valve the numbers would disappear. (I spent a good 5 minutes trying to keep the little stick on the gage out long enough for me to read it.) Being 72 years old it is not easy to get down to street level to fill a tire on a normal machine no less not being able to see the numbers because; 1. They were etched into the metal valve and therefor blended in so you couldn't see them.
and 2. I can't see anything that small on a good day no less bent over trying to keep from falling over while holding an awkward air hose and uncooperative nozzle. It was a disaster ! Resulting in sweat, curses and less air in all my tires than I started out with.
At this point I decided I would do what I should have done when I first saw the stupid light on my dash panel . . . Take the damn car to my mechanic and let him put air in the tires!
The joke of all this is that when I brought my car to my mechanic they checked ALL the tires and NONE of them were low on air! None except the spare tire in the trunk. Yes, all that because the stupid spare tire was low on air and since it too is connected to the computer that runs my car the little yellow light was going to annoy me until I drove myself nuts.
This past week a little light on the dash board of my car brought be out of my sleep deprived fog warning me that one of my tires was low on air. I immediately got out of my car, (I hadn't left the parking spot yet, thank God) and checked all four tires. None of them looked low but who can tell when parked in a spot filled with storm debris. (When is this new community going to get around to picking up all this stuff? Yet another burning issue to ponder at 3AM.) I figured the low air issue was not at the level of Def Con 5 so I would be fine to travel the half mile between new condo and old. That was the last time I thought about it until I was half way to my appointment the following day and realized the little light was still on. When I got to where I was going I checked the tires again, fully expecting one of them to be border line FLAT but once again they all looked okay. HUM?
Now I have this light shining at me telling me I really should DO something. Being a woman of the 21st century I did not call for help but rather took the matter into my own hands.
The first gas station I went to did not HAVE air. How do you not have air??????? This totally made my day and the ensuing blog started writing it's self inside my brain. How do you NOT have air? A burning question when you think about it. We have air all around us so how does the machine that pumps that air into my tire RUN OUT? The sign on the machine said exactly that, "OUT OF AIR".
Not, "Broken", or "Electric out", (this was a week after a hurricane blew through and there were still lots of places without power), or even just a red circle with a line through it showing this was not a functioning machine. After I stopped laughing I drove on to gas station #2 which didn't have an air machine. How does a gas station not have a machine for pumping air into tires. It's a gas station for goodness sake? Shaking my head over that one I continued on to station #3. Ah Ha ! An air machine, and it's working and there is no one there using it! All my planets were in alinement except I had to PAY for this air!
I swear I stood there for at least a minute questioning my sanity and wondering why you had to pay for air. (I realize the station is using their electricity to power the machine but seriously, paying for air?) Now comes the question of, "Do I have any change to put into this dumb ass machine?", The search for four quarters was entertaining it itself, looking under the seat, digging through my purse, collecting the change from the little pocket on the console. No one I know carries actual money on them any more, no less burdensome coins. (With the exception of that little old lady at the check out at Publix who takes 20 minutes digging through her coin purse for the EXACT change while you stand there screaming in your head, "Use a credit card for God sake!) I also know I could have gone into the gas station and asked for change of a dollar but who has a dollar any more and changing a twenty just seemed a little rediculous. I did manage to come up with 4 quarters which I inserted into the machine with the result of it turning on so I could pump air into the tires. Sounds easy enough right? Some air machines, the ones I like, have a gage on the front of the machine that you set to the desired PSI, (which means pounds per square inch as I learned from my dad). You set the number and pump the air and when your tire reaches the desired inflation the machine shuts off. Nice !! But those machines are the free ones. THIS machine had a tire gage on the nozzle so as you pressed the nozzle on the tire valve the gage popped out to tell you how much air was in your tire. You then would continue to pump air into the tire until the gage read the number of pounds you desired. As simple as that sounds it was a disaster. The gage would only pop out for a second or two and as soon as you took the gage off the valve the numbers would disappear. (I spent a good 5 minutes trying to keep the little stick on the gage out long enough for me to read it.) Being 72 years old it is not easy to get down to street level to fill a tire on a normal machine no less not being able to see the numbers because; 1. They were etched into the metal valve and therefor blended in so you couldn't see them.
and 2. I can't see anything that small on a good day no less bent over trying to keep from falling over while holding an awkward air hose and uncooperative nozzle. It was a disaster ! Resulting in sweat, curses and less air in all my tires than I started out with.
At this point I decided I would do what I should have done when I first saw the stupid light on my dash panel . . . Take the damn car to my mechanic and let him put air in the tires!
The joke of all this is that when I brought my car to my mechanic they checked ALL the tires and NONE of them were low on air! None except the spare tire in the trunk. Yes, all that because the stupid spare tire was low on air and since it too is connected to the computer that runs my car the little yellow light was going to annoy me until I drove myself nuts.
Thursday, September 21, 2017
NIGHT WRITER
I sincerely apologize to all of you out there who have trouble sleeping. For as long as I can remember I NEVER had trouble falling asleep or staying asleep. I was THE QUEEN OF SLEEP !
I prided myself on being able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat and sleep soundly through the entire night and half of the next day. Sleep was my friend. When encountering someone who would periodically wake up at 4 or 5 AM I would scoff at them and tell them how silly they were for getting up at that unGodly hour. Why all you have to do is close your eyes, clear your mind and surely you will fall back to sleep for another couple of hours. These poor souls would try to explain to me how they "Just can't sleep!" to which I would laugh and think how ridiculous that was, everyone can sleep if you just relax and let your mind wander.
WRONG !
I have become a night crawler, A creature of the night, A Night writer. I have become my father minus the burnt toast. My children all have the memory of waking in the middle of the night to the smell of burnt toast wafting up from the basement apartment where my dad resided for the half of the year when he wasn't in Florida. Every night he would wake around the same time, get up and cook a little something to nibble on while watching TV or in his later years, while writing his book or composing his collection of poems. I have not fallen far from the proverbial tree as I sit here writing at 3:30 AM because I can no longer sleep through the night or late into the morning.
That theory, that I would gladly expound to any one who complained of sleepless nights, of JUST stay in bed, let your mind wander to clear all thoughts and you will drift off back to sleep, is a load of crap ! It seems I was the queen of sleep either because of boredom, depression or drugs. What ever the reason none of the above remain in effect at this moment of my life and so sleep has left the building. I am sooooooooo sorry for ever doubting you my sleepless friends when you told me how hard it was to fall and stay asleep. I have become one of you and I extend my deepest and heartfelt sympathy because there is NOTHING to do at 3 AM and this is driving me crazy !
As I lie here at this mid point between evening and morning I am left to my own devices to entertain myself and that can be dangerous ! At first when I wake up and realize sleep has flown I persist in thinking that if I just lie here quietly I WILL fall back off to sleep. And as I foolishly lie here my brain starts working . . . thoughts start oozing in and the next thing I know I am in a full blown thinking mode. " Will I get all this stuff packed in time to move?", "Did I leave the light on in the bathroom at the new condo?", "Where did I put those forms I needed for the insurance company?", and most importantly of all, "Why in hell do you have to pay for air at the gas station?". These are burning issues at 4 AM and I can not get back to sleep because of them. The fact that there is NOTHING I can do at this hour to rectify any of these important matters does not factor in. The thoughts keep coming at the speed of the Indy 500 and my brain goes into Hyper Drive to keep up with it all.
At this point I just have to get up, go burn some toast and write it all down just to get my brain to stop. There is no guarantee that I will get back to sleep once I put my thoughts into print but at least I have to try to empty the brain drain and let some of this stuff out. It's like an over flowing cesspool that will not stop stinking until it's emptied. A vulgar analogy but Hey, it's four in the morning and I haven't gotten much sleep.
I prided myself on being able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat and sleep soundly through the entire night and half of the next day. Sleep was my friend. When encountering someone who would periodically wake up at 4 or 5 AM I would scoff at them and tell them how silly they were for getting up at that unGodly hour. Why all you have to do is close your eyes, clear your mind and surely you will fall back to sleep for another couple of hours. These poor souls would try to explain to me how they "Just can't sleep!" to which I would laugh and think how ridiculous that was, everyone can sleep if you just relax and let your mind wander.
WRONG !
I have become a night crawler, A creature of the night, A Night writer. I have become my father minus the burnt toast. My children all have the memory of waking in the middle of the night to the smell of burnt toast wafting up from the basement apartment where my dad resided for the half of the year when he wasn't in Florida. Every night he would wake around the same time, get up and cook a little something to nibble on while watching TV or in his later years, while writing his book or composing his collection of poems. I have not fallen far from the proverbial tree as I sit here writing at 3:30 AM because I can no longer sleep through the night or late into the morning.
That theory, that I would gladly expound to any one who complained of sleepless nights, of JUST stay in bed, let your mind wander to clear all thoughts and you will drift off back to sleep, is a load of crap ! It seems I was the queen of sleep either because of boredom, depression or drugs. What ever the reason none of the above remain in effect at this moment of my life and so sleep has left the building. I am sooooooooo sorry for ever doubting you my sleepless friends when you told me how hard it was to fall and stay asleep. I have become one of you and I extend my deepest and heartfelt sympathy because there is NOTHING to do at 3 AM and this is driving me crazy !
As I lie here at this mid point between evening and morning I am left to my own devices to entertain myself and that can be dangerous ! At first when I wake up and realize sleep has flown I persist in thinking that if I just lie here quietly I WILL fall back off to sleep. And as I foolishly lie here my brain starts working . . . thoughts start oozing in and the next thing I know I am in a full blown thinking mode. " Will I get all this stuff packed in time to move?", "Did I leave the light on in the bathroom at the new condo?", "Where did I put those forms I needed for the insurance company?", and most importantly of all, "Why in hell do you have to pay for air at the gas station?". These are burning issues at 4 AM and I can not get back to sleep because of them. The fact that there is NOTHING I can do at this hour to rectify any of these important matters does not factor in. The thoughts keep coming at the speed of the Indy 500 and my brain goes into Hyper Drive to keep up with it all.
At this point I just have to get up, go burn some toast and write it all down just to get my brain to stop. There is no guarantee that I will get back to sleep once I put my thoughts into print but at least I have to try to empty the brain drain and let some of this stuff out. It's like an over flowing cesspool that will not stop stinking until it's emptied. A vulgar analogy but Hey, it's four in the morning and I haven't gotten much sleep.
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
I SWORE I'D NEVER MOVE AGAIN
I seem to remember saying I would NEVER move again, EVER ! Those words came from this mouth just a little over a year ago when I experienced the "Move From Hell" from my wonderful sun lit house with a pool and garden and cathedral ceilings into THE CAVE. Don't get me wrong please . . . This little condo served me well and was a good resting point in my life. It was good to leave the house behind with all it's money and time draining issues but looking back the move was way too fast and even a little too soon. ( That's what I think but as always God is doing what needs to be done in order to get me where I'm supposed to be.) The practical side of me knew I HAD to leave all that behind and move into something more practical for my single life and budget so I quickly settled on this little one room condo to rent. As it turns out renting is fabulous for a single woman. No headaches of home repairs, broken appliances, too much space to clean OR more importantly the monthly drain of HOA and POA fees, mortgage, home owners insurance or the other financial drains of owning your own house. I do remember the note of horror from one of my children over the fact that I was NOT going to BUY a new place. The thought of mom not investing in a house was questioned but once I made my decision it was accepted and I had full support and help from my wonderful family.
And so began the 14 months of being a cave dweller. This condo is lovely but it IS small and dark and tucked away at the back of a 3 story building that reminded me of my early childhood apartment dwelling in NYC. I did feel very safe during the hurricane seasons of 20160 & 17 because it would take an earth quake or a Florida sink hole to take this building down. I lived here in relative peace and probably would have stayed here forever just to avoid MOVING AGAIN ! But God has HIS way of moving us where HE wants us to be and so Dwayne entered my life and after a year and a half of enjoying this wonderful man's company D suggested WE go in together on a larger place to live. (It did not take any convincing at all. The moment he suggested it I jumped at the idea!) Dwayne still has a house in Michigan where he hangs out when he isn't with me but those times are becoming less and less frequent. If we aren't traveling, spending time in Alaska with his son or off on an adventure we are living in Florida.
And so begins the journey to a new and bigger living space. God bless this man for trusting me to find us a place, which I did in a matter of weeks from the time we had our moving discussion. I think I started packing the moment I got off the phone. We had brushed upon the subject of sharing a bigger place here in Florida but didn't make any plans to act upon it until our return from 2 months in Alaska where we discovered we DID want to share a space and that space really needed to have more space.
The place I have found is about a half mile from where I am now but it is worlds away in terms of feeling like home. I stumbled upon the community totally by dumb luck, if there is such a thing as opposed to Divine Intervention. The community reminds me very much of the one where I had my house, lots of trees and green grass and open spaces. The condo is like my old house with a huge screened in patio, high cathedral ceilings and lots of light coming in from the 4 sliding glass doors that wall all the open space. I fell in love with it and can only hope Mr. Man will love it too. But then I figure as long as the big screen TV, the bar-b-que and the refrigerator are there D will be happy. It doesn't take much to make this guy happy.
The move is set for a week from Thursday so since September first I have been filling boxes with my "stuff". Only a minor set back when hurricane Irma blew through and we lost electricity for 5 days. At least THE MOVE wasn't planned for during the storm. Just this last Friday I got the keys for the new place and thus began the physical part of moving ALL my crap from the cave to the house, (which is what I consider this new place to be). There will be movers here to carry all the big items such as sofa, wardrobe, secretary and china cabinet but in the mean time I am carting boxes and bags of things that I just don't want to take the time to wrap up and leave for the movers. I am astounded that I have so much junk in this tiny space. I've taken 4 car loads from here to there and yet I haven't made a dent in what is yet to be moved. THIS is the part I had blocked from my brain when I agreed to move and THIS is the part that I will remember when I tell you I'M NEVER GOING TO MOVE AGAIN !
P.S. Dwayne is flying down for the week of the move just so he can fully experience the joy of moving and hopefully keep me from loosing my mind when I realize I still haven't gotten everything packed up to go. As for D's part in this move . . . he will show up with one tiny suitcase and that will be the extent of his moving !
And so began the 14 months of being a cave dweller. This condo is lovely but it IS small and dark and tucked away at the back of a 3 story building that reminded me of my early childhood apartment dwelling in NYC. I did feel very safe during the hurricane seasons of 20160 & 17 because it would take an earth quake or a Florida sink hole to take this building down. I lived here in relative peace and probably would have stayed here forever just to avoid MOVING AGAIN ! But God has HIS way of moving us where HE wants us to be and so Dwayne entered my life and after a year and a half of enjoying this wonderful man's company D suggested WE go in together on a larger place to live. (It did not take any convincing at all. The moment he suggested it I jumped at the idea!) Dwayne still has a house in Michigan where he hangs out when he isn't with me but those times are becoming less and less frequent. If we aren't traveling, spending time in Alaska with his son or off on an adventure we are living in Florida.
And so begins the journey to a new and bigger living space. God bless this man for trusting me to find us a place, which I did in a matter of weeks from the time we had our moving discussion. I think I started packing the moment I got off the phone. We had brushed upon the subject of sharing a bigger place here in Florida but didn't make any plans to act upon it until our return from 2 months in Alaska where we discovered we DID want to share a space and that space really needed to have more space.
The place I have found is about a half mile from where I am now but it is worlds away in terms of feeling like home. I stumbled upon the community totally by dumb luck, if there is such a thing as opposed to Divine Intervention. The community reminds me very much of the one where I had my house, lots of trees and green grass and open spaces. The condo is like my old house with a huge screened in patio, high cathedral ceilings and lots of light coming in from the 4 sliding glass doors that wall all the open space. I fell in love with it and can only hope Mr. Man will love it too. But then I figure as long as the big screen TV, the bar-b-que and the refrigerator are there D will be happy. It doesn't take much to make this guy happy.
The move is set for a week from Thursday so since September first I have been filling boxes with my "stuff". Only a minor set back when hurricane Irma blew through and we lost electricity for 5 days. At least THE MOVE wasn't planned for during the storm. Just this last Friday I got the keys for the new place and thus began the physical part of moving ALL my crap from the cave to the house, (which is what I consider this new place to be). There will be movers here to carry all the big items such as sofa, wardrobe, secretary and china cabinet but in the mean time I am carting boxes and bags of things that I just don't want to take the time to wrap up and leave for the movers. I am astounded that I have so much junk in this tiny space. I've taken 4 car loads from here to there and yet I haven't made a dent in what is yet to be moved. THIS is the part I had blocked from my brain when I agreed to move and THIS is the part that I will remember when I tell you I'M NEVER GOING TO MOVE AGAIN !
P.S. Dwayne is flying down for the week of the move just so he can fully experience the joy of moving and hopefully keep me from loosing my mind when I realize I still haven't gotten everything packed up to go. As for D's part in this move . . . he will show up with one tiny suitcase and that will be the extent of his moving !
Thursday, September 7, 2017
SOME TIMES LIFE SUCKS !
There is no other way to say it . . . life can hit you when you're down and keep smacking you so hard that you just don't want to get back up.
Consider my youngest child . . . Three years ago he and his wife gave birth to twins. The are adorable and precious but they are a handful as you can imagine. For the past three years the parents of these kids have not had a full night's sleep. (I feel bad about that but I do think that problem could have been fixed.) Add to the mix older brother who is a great kid but now has to deal with 2, younger by 4 years, siblings. Life just got a little bit tougher.
Then there are the inevitable money problems of being a teacher. Let's face it folks. How do you live on 36 thousand dollars a year? With 3 kids, 2 cars and rent due every month.We have all managed and I am not suggesting that my boy has it any tougher than any other parent in this day and age. His wife has a good job and makes decent money so IF you budget and plan ahead you can survive. But sometimes you really need to do a little more than "just surviving".
Now added to that EVERY year you are given the "Problem Kids" at school because . . . "You are such an amazing teacher so you can handle the problem children and still have your class achieve the highest test scores on your grade level. And we will nominate you for teacher of the year just to make up for the low pay and tough year of teaching." (Not that you will win but we will make you feel good by nominating you.)
Add to the picture a dog and a cat. Mookie was part of Kent's life from the year he got out of college. He got her as a puppy and they were together through years of moving from apartment to apartment in Baltimore while Kent searched for his destined career. The jobs at Enterprise was a great learning experience but not really what one wants to do for the rest of their lives. Then Kent got a job working for a non-profit group in Baltimore he met his future wife and things started falling into place.
Wife to be moved to Florida and Kent and Mookie followed. And so began the move toward becoming a teacher, husband and father.
And now it all comes crumbling down like an ant hill under an elephants foot. Kent and his wife are separating. The kids and money issues and what ever the hell else have pulled them apart to the point of misery for all involved and so an almost 10 year marriage falls apart. When the school year begins guess who gets THREE (3) prize winning disturbed children placed in his class. (Have you been out there in the stores and seen what today's kids are like? At 7 & 8 years old these children are more than I could ever handle. I think we are all in BIG trouble if our world keeps going in the direction we are headed. But that's a whole other blog!) Kent spent his entire summer taking care of his 3 kids while he is "ON VACATION". They had a great summer but caring for 3 kids in a town house that has no yard or play area and having 2 of the kids still needing a short nap every afternoon makes for a tough summer. And now you return to your job that requires you to "teach" while dealing with disturbed children tearing up the class room.
So . . . to sum it all up, when I asked Kent if he was okay last night after he returned from the vet after having Mookie the dog put to "sleep" this was his reply;
"Other than getting a divorce. being split from my kids, my dog I've had for 16 years dying and a catastrophic hurricane on the way ? Yeah I'm good mom."
Yup . . . Sometimes life sucks !
Consider my youngest child . . . Three years ago he and his wife gave birth to twins. The are adorable and precious but they are a handful as you can imagine. For the past three years the parents of these kids have not had a full night's sleep. (I feel bad about that but I do think that problem could have been fixed.) Add to the mix older brother who is a great kid but now has to deal with 2, younger by 4 years, siblings. Life just got a little bit tougher.
Then there are the inevitable money problems of being a teacher. Let's face it folks. How do you live on 36 thousand dollars a year? With 3 kids, 2 cars and rent due every month.We have all managed and I am not suggesting that my boy has it any tougher than any other parent in this day and age. His wife has a good job and makes decent money so IF you budget and plan ahead you can survive. But sometimes you really need to do a little more than "just surviving".
Now added to that EVERY year you are given the "Problem Kids" at school because . . . "You are such an amazing teacher so you can handle the problem children and still have your class achieve the highest test scores on your grade level. And we will nominate you for teacher of the year just to make up for the low pay and tough year of teaching." (Not that you will win but we will make you feel good by nominating you.)
Add to the picture a dog and a cat. Mookie was part of Kent's life from the year he got out of college. He got her as a puppy and they were together through years of moving from apartment to apartment in Baltimore while Kent searched for his destined career. The jobs at Enterprise was a great learning experience but not really what one wants to do for the rest of their lives. Then Kent got a job working for a non-profit group in Baltimore he met his future wife and things started falling into place.
Wife to be moved to Florida and Kent and Mookie followed. And so began the move toward becoming a teacher, husband and father.
And now it all comes crumbling down like an ant hill under an elephants foot. Kent and his wife are separating. The kids and money issues and what ever the hell else have pulled them apart to the point of misery for all involved and so an almost 10 year marriage falls apart. When the school year begins guess who gets THREE (3) prize winning disturbed children placed in his class. (Have you been out there in the stores and seen what today's kids are like? At 7 & 8 years old these children are more than I could ever handle. I think we are all in BIG trouble if our world keeps going in the direction we are headed. But that's a whole other blog!) Kent spent his entire summer taking care of his 3 kids while he is "ON VACATION". They had a great summer but caring for 3 kids in a town house that has no yard or play area and having 2 of the kids still needing a short nap every afternoon makes for a tough summer. And now you return to your job that requires you to "teach" while dealing with disturbed children tearing up the class room.
So . . . to sum it all up, when I asked Kent if he was okay last night after he returned from the vet after having Mookie the dog put to "sleep" this was his reply;
"Other than getting a divorce. being split from my kids, my dog I've had for 16 years dying and a catastrophic hurricane on the way ? Yeah I'm good mom."
Yup . . . Sometimes life sucks !
Tuesday, September 5, 2017
A FLORIDA RIDDLE
HOW MANY BRAIN CELLS DOES A FLORIDIAN LOOSE WHEN A HURRICANE IS PREDICTED?
The answer is: ALL THEIR BRAIN CELLS ! AND THEN SOME !
Once again the whole of South Florida is in PANIC mode because there is a possibility of a hurricane hitting our coast on SUNDAY. TODAY IS TUESDAY ! I could pack for a year in Tibet in this amount of time and yet the Florida Fools are totally INSANELY driving around filling their cars with gas, because why? If a hurricane hits here you will NOT BE ABLE TO DRIVE ANYWHERE !!!
The fools are mobbing the grocery stores tearing things off the shelves as if the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE was upon us and our remaining years of existence depend on the amount of food we can horde TODAY! HELLO . . . DON'T FILL YOUR FREEZER AND FRIDGE with food you idiots. If the power goes out everything will ROT ! And yet the traffic is like the Indy 500 with folks racing to beat one another to the gas stations and grocery stores. EVERYONE, (well, almost everyone), is on HIGH ALLERT !!!!!!!!!! AND going nuts yet again.
How about staying home and storm proofing your home and digging out the 47 cans of tuna that you have stored in your pantry from last years storm? Put up your hurricane shutters. Start filling containers with water that you already have at home in your filtration system. BUT OH NO, we must run around town like headless chickens making everyone who has to be out and about totally miserable and endangering everyone's life because you are so focused on buying and getting ready.
To top this all off I find myself dealing with another fool who is not only in Hurricane Panic Mode but is a CONDO NAZI ! Perhaps I have mentioned that I am moving in 2 weeks to a larger condo in a lovely community very close by. At least I THOUGHT it was a nice community until I encountered MS "S" who is the Secretary of the Board of Directors for the new community. To start with the registration process to apply to rent in this area was quite the adventure. At a cost of $250 to the management company just to accept our forms and process, (READ), them I figured we were in a good area. Once the paperwork was checked over and over and over, requiring several emails, phone calls and faxes the OK was given to the Board so they could set up an interview with Dwayne and I. The first communication was an email from Ms "S" asking me to call her to set up a day and time to come in for the 90 minute interview. When I called her I knew I was in trouble! She is ONE OF THOSE people who have been given a little authority and now think they are the RISEN CHRIST. Or perhaps in her case she thinks she is Moses or Elijah and her word is straight from GOD. There is no "discussion" there is only "lecture". She was "very upset" to hear that Dwayne is not in Florida right now and will not be attending her 90 minute spiel on the rules and regulations regarding residency in "THE OAKS". I was told to make sure I take GOOD notes and tell DWAYNE EVERYTHING that is covered at today's meeting. I assured her I would be very diligent in my note taking and Dwayne would not cause any chaos in the community once he arrived. We set a time for the meeting and I was told what I needed to bring with me. (I wrote this all down to be sure to get it right!) That conversation took place Thursday of last week. Today is Tuesday and we are scheduled to meet at 4:30 this afternoon. My day is clear of all other appointments so I can FOCUS on my interview and my folder contains all necessary papers. And yet I STILL got a phone call from a panicked Ms "S" while I was out this morning. There was a frantic message that she has been trying to reach me ALL morning, (I left at 9:30 and was home at 11:00). She was out "PREPARING FOR THE HURRICANE" and needed to make sure I had remembered our meeting at, (her exact words) "I think at 4:15 or 4:30 today". She is VERY BUSY "preparing for the hurricane", (background noise and her saying"it's crazy out here!") She had to remind me of the list of items to bring, (2 things), and would I please PLEASE call her before this afternoon so she knows I am coming!!!
After muttering about what an A-Hole she is I promptly called her back to reassure her I had it all under control and would be there at FOUR THIRTY with all the paper work she had asked for. At this point she went into a rant about how she has been trying to reach me at my out of town number but it's been disconnected and she had to go through the paper work to find my home number blaugh blaugh blaugh ! I tried to tell her I don't now and never have had an out of town number since I moved to Florida 13 years ago and that perhaps she was trying to call Dwayne but she would have none of it, INSISTING it was MY number and implying I had given false information on what ever forms she was looking at.
At this point, after fighting the Hurricane traffic crazies I was in no mood to deal with this moron so I just said what ever and will take 3 Valium before my 4:30 meeting with Ms "S".
I really hope this is the LAST time I EVER have any dealing with this winner! With any luch she will get blown away by the hurricane !!
The answer is: ALL THEIR BRAIN CELLS ! AND THEN SOME !
Once again the whole of South Florida is in PANIC mode because there is a possibility of a hurricane hitting our coast on SUNDAY. TODAY IS TUESDAY ! I could pack for a year in Tibet in this amount of time and yet the Florida Fools are totally INSANELY driving around filling their cars with gas, because why? If a hurricane hits here you will NOT BE ABLE TO DRIVE ANYWHERE !!!
The fools are mobbing the grocery stores tearing things off the shelves as if the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE was upon us and our remaining years of existence depend on the amount of food we can horde TODAY! HELLO . . . DON'T FILL YOUR FREEZER AND FRIDGE with food you idiots. If the power goes out everything will ROT ! And yet the traffic is like the Indy 500 with folks racing to beat one another to the gas stations and grocery stores. EVERYONE, (well, almost everyone), is on HIGH ALLERT !!!!!!!!!! AND going nuts yet again.
How about staying home and storm proofing your home and digging out the 47 cans of tuna that you have stored in your pantry from last years storm? Put up your hurricane shutters. Start filling containers with water that you already have at home in your filtration system. BUT OH NO, we must run around town like headless chickens making everyone who has to be out and about totally miserable and endangering everyone's life because you are so focused on buying and getting ready.
To top this all off I find myself dealing with another fool who is not only in Hurricane Panic Mode but is a CONDO NAZI ! Perhaps I have mentioned that I am moving in 2 weeks to a larger condo in a lovely community very close by. At least I THOUGHT it was a nice community until I encountered MS "S" who is the Secretary of the Board of Directors for the new community. To start with the registration process to apply to rent in this area was quite the adventure. At a cost of $250 to the management company just to accept our forms and process, (READ), them I figured we were in a good area. Once the paperwork was checked over and over and over, requiring several emails, phone calls and faxes the OK was given to the Board so they could set up an interview with Dwayne and I. The first communication was an email from Ms "S" asking me to call her to set up a day and time to come in for the 90 minute interview. When I called her I knew I was in trouble! She is ONE OF THOSE people who have been given a little authority and now think they are the RISEN CHRIST. Or perhaps in her case she thinks she is Moses or Elijah and her word is straight from GOD. There is no "discussion" there is only "lecture". She was "very upset" to hear that Dwayne is not in Florida right now and will not be attending her 90 minute spiel on the rules and regulations regarding residency in "THE OAKS". I was told to make sure I take GOOD notes and tell DWAYNE EVERYTHING that is covered at today's meeting. I assured her I would be very diligent in my note taking and Dwayne would not cause any chaos in the community once he arrived. We set a time for the meeting and I was told what I needed to bring with me. (I wrote this all down to be sure to get it right!) That conversation took place Thursday of last week. Today is Tuesday and we are scheduled to meet at 4:30 this afternoon. My day is clear of all other appointments so I can FOCUS on my interview and my folder contains all necessary papers. And yet I STILL got a phone call from a panicked Ms "S" while I was out this morning. There was a frantic message that she has been trying to reach me ALL morning, (I left at 9:30 and was home at 11:00). She was out "PREPARING FOR THE HURRICANE" and needed to make sure I had remembered our meeting at, (her exact words) "I think at 4:15 or 4:30 today". She is VERY BUSY "preparing for the hurricane", (background noise and her saying"it's crazy out here!") She had to remind me of the list of items to bring, (2 things), and would I please PLEASE call her before this afternoon so she knows I am coming!!!
After muttering about what an A-Hole she is I promptly called her back to reassure her I had it all under control and would be there at FOUR THIRTY with all the paper work she had asked for. At this point she went into a rant about how she has been trying to reach me at my out of town number but it's been disconnected and she had to go through the paper work to find my home number blaugh blaugh blaugh ! I tried to tell her I don't now and never have had an out of town number since I moved to Florida 13 years ago and that perhaps she was trying to call Dwayne but she would have none of it, INSISTING it was MY number and implying I had given false information on what ever forms she was looking at.
At this point, after fighting the Hurricane traffic crazies I was in no mood to deal with this moron so I just said what ever and will take 3 Valium before my 4:30 meeting with Ms "S".
I really hope this is the LAST time I EVER have any dealing with this winner! With any luch she will get blown away by the hurricane !!
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