Oh do I have news. And to me, it is good news.

I know I was shooting for North Carolina, but I am definitely moving to Alabama. My older half brother found us a small trailer on three acres of land to stay in near where he lives. We will be moving there the second week of December.

As a matter of fact, I am turning in my letter of resignation today.

I guess I should step back and explain how this came about. Ayron got laid off last Friday. This is the third year in a row that he has been laid off and we are out of savings. We can't go through this again this winter. He was going to apply at the companies here in town so we could hold out till next spring. I put my foot down and said no.

Going now allows us to use his time on unemployment to seek a new job instead of us trying to move with no money and none incoming.

So, even though I didn't hit the target dead center, North Carolina, I did hit my target area.

The one sad part, for me, is that my youngest son has decided to stay here to finish the school year. I understand and agree completely that it is the best thing for him to do, but the mom in me cringes at letting go of her baby. I don't care that he has a place to stay or that he will be 18 the first week of December, I am not completely ready to let my baby bird fly free from the nest. (sigh)

This is where I end as I need to go to work. Be well.

 

I am in another one of my extremely blah phases. Blame it on the weather, or me just not getting my way in life. What ever the reason, it has become a fight to climb out of bed in the mornings or move my large back end from the couch when I get home at night. What ever the reason, the blahs are upon me and I really want them to go away!

The Renae list of broken or non-working parts has a new addition. I have developed a case of carpal tunnel in my hands. The right one is the worst. It has forced me to give up crocheting for the moment and I walk around the house at night looking like a mummy in progress. I bought the elastic-y gloves to wear to keep the swelling down at night. They help a little --very little. And last night I iced my whole right arm from my wrist to my elbow to try and avoid waking up in the middle of the night in pain, needing to take ibprofen. It seemed to help -- I didn't wake up, but my hands still didn't want to work this morning. I will take the "not waking up" in the middle of the night -- it's a start

I should write more, but I am out of time. Must head off to work....




 

Wow, eight days without writing. That seems like a long time. I know I have popped in and read a few blogs in the last week I just didn't have the time to sit down and write.

My life feels stale. That is not a metaphor for depression. I do not believe I am depressed at this time. I am in limbo. I have been in limbo since spring and will stay there until next spring, I suspect. Yes, I am back on my old whine. I want to move, but can't. In anticipation of moving this last spring, I didn't do many of my usual spring and summer gardening activities. That finally got to me, so I have started a container garden in the house. At least this way I can take my garden with me if and when I go.

The hardest thing with being in a limbo is the waiting. I am not half as patient a person as some people may believe me to be (outside the internet. I have shown enough here how impatient I really am.) Oh, I fake it well enough. The trick is to always take an activity with you that will occupy your time while you wait. It makes the long waits more bearable and keeps you from dwelling upon the time. That works great for doctor's appointments and other down times, but it becomes really hard when it involves days or weeks.

I realize this is a repeat of past whining and I am sorry that I sound like a broken record, but some things are constant and not being able to stay in one place seems to be my constant. I am thinking Ayron and I should get a large RV to live in, then when I feel the need to move spots or even vacation. We drive away.

A few nights ago, I took a walk with one of my friends and we discussed our situations. Hers is looking a bit grim too. Talking helped and didn't. It was nice to openly discuss with someone my frustrations and listen to hers, but it just made my desire to move on, start over that much stronger.
This week finally brought a bit of good news after so much stress. We are finally digging ourselves back out of the financial whole we have been sinking into. Mind you, it is taking both Ayron and I working. Him two jobs me one. I find it completely ridiculous that it should be so considering I feel we live a fairly frugal life style. Our extravagances involve having Netflix and Internet. That is it. We don't even have cable, we rarely eat out, we don't go to the movies-- that's what Netflix is for, we haven’t had a vacation in years. I don't buy tons of shoes or clothes. We eat well, but not expensively. I have even quit buying yarn and cloth for my hobbies.

Where do we spend all our money? On gas for Ayron to get back and forth to work and my medical bills. The only hope I have of doing anything about that is to lose weight and pray it brings my diabetes back under control. That is no easy task for me. I am trying, but being stressed makes me want to eat more not less. The 'almost' good news is that I work with three older women who want someone to mother. They watch what I eat at work like mother hawks watch for prey. It has made me very self-conscious and seems to be keeping me in line at work. At first I thought I might be offended, but I have been able to find the humor in it and I am using it to my advantage.

I am trying to think of anything else of interest going on. Work is muggle boring. The family is family-ish. The pets are adorably annoying. Tanner is still attempting to convince Dott to help him make cat-dogs and she is still adamantly refusing. He is still all mischief and cuteness. He is my first dog to be stand offish. He likes to be near, but not on or right next to me. I don't mind, but it has messed with my view of dogs. All my past dogs have been almost suffocating in their need to be with me, not Tanner. He likes me in site, but otherwise he gives me space.

Dott is still her same strange self. Everything is on her terms and you had better obey or be shed on like a blizzard out of the blue. I still haven't figured out how she can turn a black shirt white at will, but she can.

The last thought is on my writing. I am still reading more than doing. My new schedule is work, then home and a nap for up to two hours, then be with Ayron and bed. No actual writing though I have thoughts on new story ideas. That is as far as things have gone lately…

That pretty much covers eight days worth of life in a nutshell. As I said, "Muggle boring" (for anyone out there that doesn't know what Muggle is: Muggle is a term from the Harry Potter book series by J. K. Rowling, refers to a person who lacks any sort of magical ability and was not born into the magical world.)

I hope anyone reading this is enjoying life a tad better than I am.

Hugs
 

Just returned from another of my son's football games. The JCC Huskies whipped the Redwood Valley Cardnals butts 42 to 13. Yes, we are the Huskies.

I have never seen so many calls made in one game in my life and no they were not all against the Huskies. At first the calls seemed to be only against the Redwood Valley Cardnals. Slowly, though, the Huskies racked up a few flags of their own. I think both teams got so sick of the flags that by the end the coaches didn't care any more. I will admit that I didn't even begrudge the Cardnals their touch downs by the end because they were so far behind.

I did get to see a reminder of why I wasn't overly anxious to see Kyle play footbal tonight. At least two player's from each team got hurt to some degree. I know it is part of the sport, but I do not have to like it.


In other unrelated news I have become a slush reader of sorts for an internet publishing company that should be up and running, hopefully, by January of 2012. I know there are a lot of details to be worked out for the company to start, but I believe that it could become a viable business and I like the idea of getting in from the beginning. I have already started looking for Science Fiction and Fantasy stories to begin our publishing with. We already have one author on the books but are hoping for a couple more.

So, between getting up at 6:00 in the morning and working till 2:00p.m. with a two hour rest period after, I now am trying to spend my evenings looking for prospective authors. Now, I just have to find where to slip in time to write my own stories and the motivation to do so.

It is my bedtime now so I shall stop here and wish you all a good night.

Hugs
 

II have a friend in Alaska that I met here several years back... Yes, I know it is shocking I have a friend. Sarah, like many of us is an aspiring writer -- more than aspiring, she has written many brilliant stories. Well, that is my opinion and I am entitled to it. Anyway, Sarah tends to disappear during the summer months as she lives in Alaska and needs to make every moment of it count by enjoying the warmth and storing up the experiences for the long winter months without sun or warmth. At least that is my hypothesis.

Here is my sad little secret; Sarah is kind of my muse. Not in any weird or kinky way -- well, maybe it is weird. Sarah inspires me by her online presence and how focused she becomes when she goes into writer mode. Usually when she starts talking about writing, I want to write, especially if I have gone through a dry phase like lately. Maybe now that she is back I can break through my time of glum and start writing, possibly even begin preparing for nanowrimo. It is just over a month away.

Last blog entry I mentioned I have gone back to work. I am a cook's helper at the high school kitchen. I took the position very wary of whether I would like it or not. I do indeed like it. It is more physical than my last job, but the hours are near perfect and my coworkers seem more pleasant. I am not putting all my previous coworkers down, it was just harder for them to all mesh with there being so many different departments want so many different things and not all of them meshing well.

There are a few perks to the job. I know get to eat breakfast and lunch free. Most of the food is tasty. After eating breakfast and lunch there, I tend not to be hungry before 5:00 p.m. That has helped me in the weight department. Not enough to save me at my next doctor's appointment on Tuesday, but still it feels good to be losing weight again.

The home front is much the same. We are still at the house on Logan waiting. I think I tend to be doing most of the waiting. I am so ready for my move, but must find a way to patiently wait for spring to get her. It is hard when I just want to be gone and starting over.
I did get a nice picture of Kyle in his football jersey. I also got one of me. Who knew that working at the school meant I would be involved in picture taking.

I see I have been away from the blog for a while now. Oh my. I started working September 12th. and by the 14th I had a horrible cold. I didn't dare take any time off so, I have been exhausted since basically the 12th. I can't do anything about it, so I am trying to endure. Unfortunately, that has left me zero energy for blogging. I hope to recover soon and be able to do more than eat, sleep and work.

What job did I finally land? That of cook's helper at the high school. After only a week and a half, I think all students should be required to work one day as a cook's helper each year they are in school. It isn't all smiling and serving, that is for sure. We serve at at a 11:40 and 12:20, I think, but start preparing at 7:30 in the morning.

There are four of us and a sub and all of the women I work with are very pleasant. That is a nice switch. None are really adept at training, but I think I am doing quite well at learning on the run. At least they direct me. LOL I laugh because I went from no one telling me anything to three people bossing me. That may sound obnoxious, but it isn't. They direct and I do. The work pace is steady, but not overwhelming and I don't watch the clock, well not since the first day when by serving time I just wanted to go home and crawl into bed.

I need to finish getting ready for work. Be well and know I am not blowing you off, I am just tired at the moment.

Hugs
 

All right, it is time for another blog on football. I think I have stated in the past that I am not a fan of football. Yep, never watch it on TV, I have even banned it from my house, or me from my house when it is on. My husband being the laid back guy he is, just looks up the final scores on the computer and goes to other people's houses once or twice a year to watch a game with them. Yes, I know that makes me a beautiful female dog, probably in heat.

Now that I have informed you about how much I don't like football. Guess where I was Friday, September 2, 2011 at 7:00p.m.? I was at my son's first home game of the season, cheering my sitting section off. If you want to take time to call me a hypocrite, please do so now and get it out of your system. Are you done? Now? All right, stop giggling. My husband did enough of that for all of you.

I experienced my first ever scrimmage yesterday morning. It involved getting up at the barely decent hour of eight. To all of you out there going eight isn't early….It was Saturday!

The husband handed me a coffee and asked, "Are you still coming or am I going alone?"

I growled, "Let me finish my coffee and I will get in the shower." The nerve of him actually attempting to speak to me before I had drank my wake up juice…

Still sipping the slightly too warm coffee, I fumble through the motions of getting the requisite two towels for my shower--Yes, two, one for drying off and one for my hair. I am rather proud to say I have almost butt- length long hair; it needs a towel all for itself.

A lot of mumbling, fumbling and general running into things later and I was ready to leave the house at about 8:50 am. We would have been making good time, but we still needed to swing by the local fast food joint for our breakfast on the run and I still needed to work the tangles out of my hair. If I had made us wait at the house for that, we would really have been late, as it is my son assured us that we only missed the first play of the game.

In the car, the husband tried very hard not to laugh at me as I tried to juggle a second, much needed coffee with my breakfast sandwich and combing my hair. Believe it or not, those activities don't really mesh well. Hair in one's coffee or breakfast sandwich is just not tasty.

Thanks to my ability to follow directions if left alone with two computer windows to flip back and forth from, I was able to print the schools map of how to get to the game. After my husband had me check mapquest to verify which way we were to go after coming off 90, we easily found the high school in Fairmont. Unfortunately, no one told us which field our son was playing on. We walked to the nearest field with the thought that if it wasn't the one we would consider the walk good exercise. Surprisingly, our first choice was the correct choice.

My discomfort at walking, talking or generally being seen in front of people resurged with a vengeance as I walked with my husband to the stairs leading up the middle of the bleachers. (I acknowledge it as my fear of being judged and suspect it stems from my own high school days.) We climbed to the top of the bleachers and settled next to my son's friend's mom --I don't know her first name.

We watched the football players on the field tackle, run, fumble, fall and repeat many times. At one point I wondered if the game was more about which coach the teams could get to yell the loudest instead of which team could score a touch down.

After an hour or so things wound down, but not before there was an incident. Most everyone was watching our team running down the field towards the goal in what would have been a beautiful play if this had been a real game when someone noticed one of the opponent's team on the ground. The story we got from our son later was that the other team's player had one of our guys on the ground head butting him and not letting him up. Another of our guys gave him a good tackle which apparently hurt. Everyone eventually was able to walk off the field, but hard feelings didn't walk away as easily.

As the teams lined up to shake hands, Ayron and I made our escape to Wally World for a quick bit of shopping. To Ayron's relief I found no Walmart kitties this trip, but that is a story for another day.

I have survived my first scrimmage and this coming Saturday I will have the opportunity to survive my first high school game since I went to high school….My that makes me feel a bit old….






 

My youngest son is a senior this year in high school and for some strange reason he decided to join not only wrestling again, but football. Good for him. I am proud of him and I think he is really coming into his own doing this.

Now for my part in all of this. I have just become a football mom. I wasn't prepared and I had no clue what I was getting myself into. Even when I was in high school, even when I was manager of the volley ball team in high school, I didn't have as much "spirit' as I am now expected to have and I don't even play the darn game.... First, not counting the official football fees, our family was required to fork out $30 for the bag lunches the kids will take with them to away games....very reasonable. But in order to get to the place to pay my money, I needed to to make a salad, (I made two) for the picnic and pay $3.00 for my husband and myself.

After everyone ate there was a cute video of last years players. Nice enough, but not worth $3.00.... There was also the most unpleasant feeling of not knowing any of the football parents. I did run into someone I knew from where I used to work, but she was sitting with her clique and barely said hi to me. Ouch. Finally my son's friend's mom came over to talk and made me feel even less knowledgable as she rattled off names of this person and that. Then came the questions I couldn't answer. What was my son's number? Me, shrug, "I don't know, he hasn't told me." (I have since learned it is 72)

The mother, "Well, I know, I make my kids talk to me."

Me nod and smile while inwardly praying for escape. (On one hand I felt the mother was a little overbearing, but on the other, I was so thankful for someone to talk to besides my husband.)

General announcement after the slide: All senior's moms please stay after for a quick meeting.... People dispersed, I went to throw away my plate. To my knowledge, the woman in charge didn't announce the beginning of the meeting -- I may have missed it while I was busy telling my son he would be telling me everything I needed to know when we got home. When I re-entered the picnic table area I just happen to notice all the women gathered around one table and started listening in hoping I was in the right place.

A woman who's name I have floating around the house, but that I don't know off the top of my head, started assigning tasks for the upcoming games and game related activities. Though I am usually overly helpful, I didn't volunteer for anything. I will let others take the lead for the moment and once I get a better idea what the heck is going on, then I will make sure I am available. That or I am sure I will be assigned things.

I left baffled and confused, but coming to realize that football cost much more than just the initial fees and sack lunch fund. I learned that I am supposed to make at least two signs for my son. One to put in the yard at my house and one to hang on the fence when the team has home games. Each cost about $30. Then for games I and my husband are supposed to have Jersey's or hoodies or something with our son's name on it as well as his number. And yes, I realize that I don't absolutely have to buy any of this, but please.....I remember high school and I definately remember not fitting in....

So, here I sit whining to you.... Why, because I can and because I had a similar whine fest with my friend, Alex before going to the darn picnic.

She couldn't understand how I, the supposedly out going person she thinks I am, would have a problem doing small talk at a picnic. But there is a marked difference in smiling, saying hello and doing a quick babble with customers while behind the register or even visiting with residents at the nursing home and coming to a school function where some of the parents, as my hubby pointed out, are reliving their high school days through their children. (not all, but some) When I get in a social setting with a large group of people and I don't know them on a personal level outside of the event, I feel judged and very uncomfortable.

At least I survived my first go round and now know my son's number --72-- and that he will play right guard (yes we did get a deoderant joke in) offensively and left guard defensively. I don't really know what it means, but I can now proudly announce to complete strangers that my awesome teenager is better than the surrounding town's teenagers and will guard their butts off!!!

This ends my unregularly scheduled rant and or whine on becoming a football mom.




 

Like most parents and pet owners, I think my dog is one of the smartest in the world. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but I have enjoyed teaching him tricks. I will admit that at first I thought he might not be very smart because it took him a while to catch on to his first trick. But once he started, he picked up spead. With one exception, but that is my fault more than his. I can't stand the idea of him being locked in a kennel most of the day for the week or two it would take him to figure out to only poop in his poop box. Now if I get a job and am away from the house a lot, I will be more inclined because I wouldn't have to listen to him whine to be let out.....

Back to how smart he is.... Tanner has successfully learned sit, shake, down and up (he stands on his hind legs for a treat) My little guy even knows come and has started listening when I call him. That makes me a very proud puppy owner.

Now, for the newest trick.... On his own, possibly spurred on by my teaching him fetch, its hard to say teach because I threw the toy and he brought it back as a game, Tanner has started bringing his toys and dropping them on me when he wants to play. . . Now who's trying to teach who?

I still catch myself quite often thanking Ayron for pointing out Tanner's existance and need for a home. No, he isn't the perfect dog. He chews paper, steals things off of my end table and harrasses the cat, but I am sure I do things Tanner thinks in his own little mind is annoying. LOL

This isn't the most origonal post, but its been three days since I have written and Party said we need to excercise our blog muscles and since I don't want my to go the way of my hips and arms and well, just about every thing else, I decided to excercise mine tonight.

Be Well and Have a Good Tomorrow.

Hugs