Wednesday, April 30, 2008
The best dogs in the whole world. Farm life means having dogs. These two are accidents on our farm much like farm dogs are. You don't have to go to the pound in order to get a dog for a farm, all you have to do is walk outside one day and there they are. The black dog is Baby. She is an Austrailian Shepherd. She is a bit neurotic. Well, she was more neurotic when John got her. We were only dating when his son Eric, called John and pleaded to take this dog that the family that had her was going to have her put down. They had a family and a small yard and she was crazy. Initially, John had to chain her to the barn in order for her not to run for dear life. She was terrified and had been abused by a man. She didn't mind me petting her, but she flinched and went bezerk whenever John came close to her. Her neurosis calmed over time and now she knows that this is her home and nothing or no one will hurt her. She will always be fed, loved and have a safe place to be. So safe that a traveling sales man stopped through and surprise! she was pregnant. John is not one on taking the pets to the vet. The other dog he has, Red Dog, showed up fixed so he is not really all that interested in spending money on a useless dogs. But, turns out that pregnant dogs are no good for John either. So shortly after John and I were married in the dead of winter, Baby had babies. December eleven we think. She had seven and all seven lived through snow, cold and being born under a farm house. Out of the seven, five were given away. The girl pup went to Mom and Dad. She is by far the prettiest out of the litter, but totally inherited the neurosis. Mikey and Rocky were the two I kept. John wasn't giving away any dogs and I was giving away all the dogs and the last one made me cry so hard that I couldn't stand it. So we kept the last two. Someone decided that Rocky was pretty enough to steal and poof, he was gone off the farm. So now there is Mikey. Mikey is the best farm dog ever. He chases coyotes, calfs and crows. He is suspicious of anything or one that he has never seen before on the farm. Barks at anything that moves in the dark. Howls at the moon when he hears sirens. Baby still likes lovin more than any dog ever, but mostly likes hanging out with Mike. Although, Baby will from time to time go to the other farm and just hang out. Mikey is my dog. Red Dog is John's dog. Baby is the farm's dog. Mikey is my dog. Ahh...the simple things.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Reasons for a mudroom. Carter asked me a while back why we had a mudroom. My answer was due to living in the middle of a pasture. This is another reason for a mudroom. Pastures have foul agents that stick to the shoes. Generally speaking though, I don't go out into the pasture. There is not really a reason for me to be out there. So why do I have a muddroom? These shoes say it all.
They made the trek from the end of the driveway to the farm house. It is about an eighth of a mile from the road into the house. Our driveway began the grading process last week when it was sunny. The ground was dry and after two days of grading, our driveway was soft and ready to be completed with mixed gravel. Too bad, it rained. John made me take the Suburu down the driveway this morning knowing it would be slick and dangerous. I got out in time for my last exam, however, it was scary. So I decided to park at the road and walk in to the farm. The driveway was so soft that I sunk in the mud over and over and over. Ah, the simple things.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Watch out folks for the slow down on the driveway where it needs to be regraded, which will happen next week, so be preprared for that slow down then. Also, be aware of the lesbians who leave at exactly the same time everyday and drive the speed limit on less. They are repainting the bridge on towncreek church rd. so slow down. And finally watch out for the mad rush to walmart in dahlonega as no one will be able to get there on Friday due to the tour de ga comin thru, shutting down the town from 6 am until 6 pm. That's all for this channel blog news. Back to you---
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
So why not?
Because we get better.
We get better.
My Dad used to say that it would be better in the morning. He saved Mr. Walker's daughter by convincing her that it would be better in the morning. He saved her because it was true. It is always better in the morning. Mr. Walker gave me a Strawberry Shortcake ceramic lamp for that phrase. I can remember being drunk out of my mind and not being able to black out, pass out, throw up, or get drunk enough to get rid of the feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I could remember my Dad's story about it being better in the morning. Sometimes I would just drink until sun up to get to the morning. Sometimes I would just cry myself to sleep, knowing that morning was coming.
That is kind of the way it felt last night. It was a droning, spinning loneliness mixed with a little fear melted into total maddness. It is not something easily explained. It is what I used to drink up, smoke out and eat up. There are not many times that I talk specifically about the mental illness for which I am cursed/blessed, but last night I got an overwhelming desire to change the way I felt. Anything, just give me anything to change the way I feel. I know why people kill themselves. I know that hopelessness. I know that powerlessness. I know why people who do not have a memory of their Dad telling the story of a girl who made it through the night, don't make it through the night. It is painful. It gives me the spins when I try to sleep. It kept me awake until midnight last night and I was up at six this morning with a test in Algebra today at eleven. I just didn't want to take the test. I didn't want to live in this farm house. I didn't want to be married. I didn't want to be me. I wanted to runaway. I wanted to leave this planet. I wanted to change the way I feel.
Swathed in the emotion, I did the only thing I could think of to do: called Megan. But she didn't answer. No one else answers their phone at ten at night, so I had to go to plan b: writing. So I wrote until I couldn't focus and started the new harry potter, well not so new, book 6--again. Then I turned out the light around midnight.
I woke up this morning, soaked in hangover emotion. It made my head feel like a weight, unbalanced and tipsy, like it was going to fall off my neck. Luckily mornings are a fast process for me and out the door to school I went: distracted and unattached. When Meg called me back today, she told me the truth. She told me that she has felt the same way for about three weeks. Maddness, total maddness.
I am not the only one who feels like this. I am not the only one. It's not just me. I am not alone.
I can feel the insanity in my muscles, my blinks, my typing, my toes when they cross. There is a reason people don't celebrate anniversaries between year 5 and year 10: year almost 8 is really, really insane. This happened at six and a half too. It went away around seven and a bit. But now? Now it is tenfold the feeling of seven. I am ready for year ten now.
I watched friend after friend pick up a drink to change the way they felt. Each of them did it between year 5 and year 10. Those who made it to 10, made it. It is soooo much like a novel. The insanity is like a work of fiction.
There is a phrase that is tossed around like frisbee. It what my Dad said to Mr. Walker's daughter in a cliche. It is the reason I will wait out this thing that is happening under my surface...
This too shall pass.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
CAN YOU SAY NO ONE KNOWS WHAT THE WEATHER IS IN NGA?
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Gotta love being cursed with an overzealous sense of self awareness. It makes for great drama. In the drama of life, things today are high class. In the drama of life, I have borne witness to a lot of it this week. Some of it was my drama, some of it wasn't. Some of it was drama that I have had before and some of it, I never want it to be mine again. God is my New Employer and that struggle with despair, I don't ever have to do again. Marilla says to despair is to turn your back on God. I have despaired before, I have been in the depths of despair before, but I am never going back.
I have heard that if it ain't practical, it probably ain't spiritual. If it ain't right, don't do it. If it ain't yours, don't take it. If it ain't so, don't say it. Honesty is such a power breaker for pride, envy, lust, greed, sloth, gluttony and wrath. Honesty sweeps over me with a God-consciousness that I don't know where it came from or why It chose me. As I look at my day today, as I look at my week this week: I saw what was right in front of me as someone being dishonest. Most importantly, self dishonesty in someone else. What I didn't see, is the simple, sneaky, cunning dishonesty of myself.
I made a very low B on my test the other day. I told myself that the professor set me up to fail. That he was rude and belittling not just to me, but to the class as a whole. And he was rude. And he is belittling. Now that I see it, he has had the same act the whole semester. What I didn't realize is that he is not the one who is setting me up to fail, I was. I haven't studied like I did last semester. I haven't taken the same actions I did last semester in order to earn an A. That is why I have a B in marketing, which I don't care about marketing because marketing is boring and unrelated to what I want. But accounting is what I want. For no apparent reason, my sloth? my pride? my hopeless nature for self destruction that wins me big points against self esteem and confidence and takes me downward a road that has a spiral effect...
And then there is a manner of living that demands rigorous honesty, not honesty with others although that is helpful, rather honesty of self, which is what God sees when the day is done.
I didn't study enough for the last test. I might end up with a 3.5 this semester. Ahh...the drama of life. Next we decide in the hereafter in this drama of life, God is going to be our Director. 3.5 GPA is a high class problem for me. I'll take that drama anyday.
I like my drama better than other's dramas. I watched someone lie to themselves again: laying the brick in the walk of that rapid, downward spiral. I just am not willing to give up the life that I lead today to be a brick layer.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
You hear people talk about those days all the time right? Like everyone knows what on earth those refers to? Well, I have had one of those mornings of those days. I woke up and didn't want to get up. I was so wrapped in fear of my test today that I almost couldn't move. So I prayed. Then, I prayed again. I got out of bed and I got on my knees and ask God to bless me, bless me indeed, bless me a lot, that I might better do His will and not harm others. Yeah, the harm others came shortly there after. I began my routine only to find that I couldn't find my pencil case. I needed my pencil case for the test. And just like that--like getting hit by a sudden tornado--I was a wreck. I tore up my house looking for a pencil case. My poor husband tried to help and there was no help to be had. In the end, he got yelled at. So much for no harm. Once the case was finally found; once the fear of the test was finally acknowledged; once I was sitting down, reading my meditations despite hot cheeks and a headache; once I was back in slight balance, I apologized to my husband and tried to make things right. I asked God to remove the fear and turn my thoughts to what He would have me do (which was feed the dogs). I went to school and took the damn test.
I still have left over fear. It hangs inside of me because I don't know if I got one question right that hooked five other questions. So either I made a high A or a C. My insides are no longer in panic mode, but there is the feeling in the base of my heart of not knowing. That heavy sinking feeling.
Why can't I just lean on God like every normal person instead of turning into a tornado of fear? Rather than indulge that heavy feeling, I have tried to help someone else who is learning to trust God too. I have prayed for God to remove the fear. And now, here I am writing about the fear. I don't know why I want to be the star student. But I know that a lot of my self worth is tied into my grades. Somehow, someday I will let go of that emotional attachment and let God take over that part of my life. Then my self worth will no longer be about my grades, rather that I am a beautiful child of God and worthy of His love.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
It doesn't make sense.
But when whine to my brother and I say "I've lost seven pounds," he is astonished.
"Wow, that's great," he says. For the first time, I felt good about losing seven pounds.
"It is against the body's instinct to lose weight, so losing seven pounds is a big deal." That never occurred to me. "Besides losing two dress sizes means you are losing it the right way, you must be working out too."
I went through three people before I felt good about losing weight. I don't know what my brother said differently than the others. I know not once did he say, muscle weighs more than fat---that make no sense to me! I am not able to understand density and weight, thus the reason I am NOT nor never will be a scientist. He told me about things that I could understand. Yeah, I guess the body wouldn't much like to lose weight, I mean what happens if it starves? There are no reserves? It likes reserves. What my body doesn't know is I am an American, it's not likely I'll go hungry. I mean, if it gets really bad, there is always a soup kitchen. The theory that I might starve is the natural instinct, makes sense. Losing weight the right way, that makes sense to me. It means that I am taking care of me. Whenever I am taking care of me, I am in the will of God. Aligning God's will with my will isn't the easiest nut to crack, but one thing is for sure, God doesn't want me drinkin, smokin or meddlin in other people's affairs. He wants me to fit for Him. Thus, me taking care of me, puts me in His will.
Why is it, the older I get, the more my brother makes sense to me? Sometimes I wonder if he made this much sense when I was growing up.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
I watched this woman walk away from life as she knew it today. Everything in her world that she had ever experienced just went out the window. She called me in a panic. Her boyfriend was screaming at her at the top of his lungs. She was "jones-in" for dope. I told her to start walking, there is a better life over here. She grabbed her purse and cigarettes and did just that. Walked out on her life.
Can you imagine?
It is like something out of a movie.
I have done that before. I wasn't conscious that was what I was doing, but I have done that before. I didn't know what was wrong with me, all I knew is that it couldn't get any worse. I was willing to do what anyone told me to, know matter how much I didn't like it or didn't want to. Then, I came to. I was stuck in a place that wouldn't let me out. I had a roommate whose name was Beatrice, who told me to call her Beelzebub and was paranoid schizophrenic.
At that point, the resistance set in.
I don't know if this gal will experience resistance or not, but today she was willing to go to any lengths to change her life. I was full of awe. It makes me realize now that I am so far away from my moment of clarity. It made me recognize the resistance that I have today. She showed me where I came from and where I'll go to if I fail to enlarge my spiritual life. It made me remember that I don't ever have to go back to the place she was in and I have been. It made me see the peace and ease with which God has given me as a way to live today. I don't ever have to crave anything. I don't ever have to obsess over anything. I don't have have to loathe myself or others. I don't have to use anything to change the way I feel. I know the manner of living which guarantees a joyful life. I know that God is ever present and awaiting for me to ask for His help.
God Help Me. God Help Her.
Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things that I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.