Apology for negligence

I'm sorry to my neighbors and friends. I've been somewhat self-absorbed, and will be for a few more days if all goes well. Remember when I said I was saying goodbye to old friends, places, and things? Well, one of those I've given up has been one of my best friends for 32 years…at least that was the way I've looked at it. I've given up smoking cigarettes. I had my last one last Friday.

 

This has been a 32-year addiction, and I am in the throes of withdrawals, yet I'm calm for the most part. I have every confidence that nicotine is just as addictive if not more than crack cocaine. The side effects may differ, but the addiction's the same. Initially there were so many times I'd had my keys in my right hand, and my left hand on the doorknob to go buy some…then I'd just grit my teeth and wait it out for 5 minutes. 2 days after I quit I went and bought a pack of cigarettes and put them in my purse. There they remain, unopened. If I'm going to quit, it's because I WANT to…not because I HAVE to. I wrote the date on the pack. We'll see if they become a time capsule artifact. Hopefully so.

 

I don't know if I will fail or succeed at this or not, but honestly…I am just trying to get through 24 hours at a time. I've hesitated to blog it, because I might yet fail, but my sis said "DO IT. Write it in your blog, even if you keep the setting on private." Besides, I want and need your words of encouragement. I want ex-smokers to tell me how long I will suffer the cravings…realistically. I want every Godly person to pray for me, every inner-spiritual person to keep me in their thoughts. Send me positive vibes, y'all. I'm not too proud to beg. 

 

I know one's metabolism slows when they quit smoking, and since I'm a spayed cat anyway, I'm gonna try not to pile any more fat on my ass than I have right now, so I've been riding the stationary bike more to make up for it. Besides swimming (which I don't have time for) it's about the only thing my knee will tolerate. Oh, and I'm eating nothing fried, and nothing from a fast-food joint. I can't totally give up my booze and carbs, though.

 

Just a warning, I will probably talk about this ad-nauseum, but I will try to focus on other things long enough to visit your blogs, and maybe string an intelligent sentence or two together now and then. I will rejoin the living soon…I promise.

 

 

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*snorts*

Girls_over_coffee

Girls_over_coffee2

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WTF…

Where's all the fuckin' GLOBAL WARMING everyone's cryin' about? It sure as hell ain't in Indy. It's May 19 and I'm sitting in my porch swing wrapped in a stadium blanket…and I can see my breath. WTF.

 

Anyway, I thought I'd better check in before anyone thinks I checked out. That won't happen because I have this silly habit of putting one foot in front of the other no matter how hard the wind blows. I think I told one of my neighbors that I'm the most depressed optimist alive. Even when I'm up to my neck in manure, I grab a shovel and start digging. I figure with all this horseshit, there's got to be a pony in here somewhere…

 

Quick catch up:

I've had the second such cold/sinus/chest invasion in some 6 weeks time. Prior to, I haven't been sick for 15+ years. My resistance must be down. The company I work for gave me and the boys tickets for a private, catered suite, and passes for the garages at Indianapolis Motor Speedway to enjoy "Bump Day" yesterday and my ass was too sick to go. Actually, I was showered and all dressed to go because I knew it would be such a neat thing for the sons, but they took one look at me and said "We're not going — it doesn't mean that much to us, go back to bed." Which I did.

 

I'm looking at a piece of property in a beautiful vacation (or year-round spot if you can stand cold winters) that I may be able to get for a steal…only it's about 750 miles from here, so I'm having to send proxies and do all this long-distance. More details on that later. Just imagine woods, water, and rock. The object is to retire away from this concrete city within 3 years and not have a mortgage. It's no accident that I'm the oldest surviving generation in my family at age 52, it's by genetic design. We just don't live long, and I want to enjoy some of my life in quasi-early retirement (if possible). It's not a grand place by any means, but I've worked since I was 14, and sometimes your quality of life is worth more than the quality of your carpet.

 

I will be starting this year's Beagle Stud Book soon, but I need people to quit making plans for my weekends and what other little time I have off. I work long days including my commute. And the price of gasoline pisses me off to no end. Fuckers.

 

I feel like hell, but I'm gonna try to look in on my neighbors before the medicine and whiskey knocks me out.

Here's kind of a shitty picture (quality-wise) of what was a rich twilight to the naked eye, the view of the park across the street from my porch swing last night:

 

Park_at_twilight

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Letting go

Today has been an odd one for me. I feel more like a shell of myself, than myself. A phone conversation last night drove home some conclusions that I knew were really there, but I wanted to deny…have denied their existence for so long. A few things also occurred to me that if true (and I believe they are) then I don't have the luxury of living in denial anymore. There's no cloudiness in the crystal ball, no smoke to hide in, and no benefit of doubt from which to feed hope.

 

It seems the very quality that makes me a survivor is also the quality that hurts me the most in the end…and that would be my unwillingness to quit, throw in the towel, fold my cards, i.e. give up. When life has told you, "this ride is over…you must give up this life and all things connected", you resist. Okay, you will give up the big things, and it hurts…but you hang on to a few chips – with the thought that it will be enough to keep you in the game until such time you can return to where you were before the robbing. Precious seeds for your future garden, even though the odds are horribly stacked against you.

 

The only problem with this is that you've lost your momentum, your forward steam. And this is like a progressive disease where once the system is compromised, you can never fully recover. Each little piece of your former life/self that you've managed to save eventually becomes infected, and you are unable to stop the degeneration. It's like swimming against a riptide. As hard as you swim to stay even, you watch the landscape pass by, and you slip farther and farther away.

 

So when do you quit struggling, let go, and just let the tide take you where it will? At what point do you say, "I simply cannot play anymore. I'm out of chips." (?)

 

So now over the next weeks to come, instead of dreaming up ways I can ramp up on my game plan, I will begin the dismantling of the little stash of good things I held on to, and one by one, I will send them down the road. This is very humbling and somewhat numbing, and I will have a new brand of loneliness to deal with. Saying goodbye is so sad at times. Saying goodbye to people, places, and things. And saying goodbye to long-held dreams. That's the worst for me. I don't really know where the tide is going to take me, because I have no new dreams at this point, but I know now that I can never go back, I'm fighting for nothing, and I'm finally, finally letting go. 

 

Sunset_flight

 

 

 

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To my Mother back to me.

I guess you could call this the ultimate in re-gifting. My sister called early in the week and said "I was just at Mom's, to double check things because they are showing the house again this weekend. I know we've already taken the keepsakes we wanted, but every time I go by there I see something else. I found something I think you'd like to have. If you're going to be home Sunday afternoon I will bring it by."

 

She just brought it by. When I first looked at it I said, "Oh how pretty", (but why would a watercolor painting of a barrel of daisies be something I'd want? It's not really my style). It was pretty, though. I think my sister saw the momentary confusion on my face because she took her finger and pointed to the artist's name down in the corner. It was me.

 

Looking at the picture again, I slowly began to recognize each petal, stem and leaf. Thirty-two years ago I had painted this for my mother (because it WAS her style) and had given it to her for Mother's Day. Mom, through my sister's loving heart, has given it back to me for Mother's Day.

 

Oaken_barrel

 

Happy Mother's Day to all.

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Tagged – 6 words…

…by Purplesque. The meme–  to summarize your life in a six word memoir, with optional photo illustration. Then, tag six others. (No promises on tagging anyone, but I like these games.)

 

Here's mine:

 

"It was fun while it lasted."

 

 

Elements

 

 

 

 

 

 

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QotD: Personality Trait = Trouble

What personality trait has gotten you in the most trouble? 

That's an easy one. Trust.

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Pathetic…and over the moon….

…I am.

 

I've alway shared my videos with Mr. U…eventually. I know he's impressed at the complexity of some of them — his son is a videographer for a living and yet the process is foreign enough to him that he appreciates the finished product like we appreciate how microwaves "shake" our food to a fully cooked stage. I make the videos of different subjects — mostly the dog events, but sometimes about us. He gives the "us" videos due respect for craftsmanship, but the feedback is minimal. Avoidance 101.

 

Tonight he called me. When I see "Ontario call" on the caller ID, my heart always skips a beat, but it wasn't surprising tonight because tomorrow is a 2-day fox trial which will be a good test of the 3 pups of mine he has. He will speak of the trial, a few howdy-do's and that will be that. Much to my delight, he was 2 beers into the night (he's always more like himself when he has a snootful to take that hard edge off) and he was cooking his special recipe of the day for his supper; generally a mish-mash of things thrown into a skillet and coming out pretty damn good, lol. He was upbeat and jovial.

 

He wasn't calling about the trial tomorrow. He was calling to firm up our plans for the Maine trip in July, and he had given it quite a bit of thought. He was working out which nights we would need lodging, what we would do during the down times from the trial. It was like old times…like in 2006 when we made 9 road trips together in a 12-month period. As he was talking to me, he was in front of the stove one minute then in front of his computer the next and I thought what the hell, I'll send the "Mouth Full of Cavities" video with the lyrics to him, and I will brace myself (silently cringe for the fallout as he watches). I fully expected the convo to go cold. Not only did he read the lyrics and watch the video, he put me on speaker phone and watched it a second time in silence. he then asked me what should he save it as (the name) because he wanted to save it to his C-drive.

 

He loved it. You could knock me over with a feather. I expected the cold shoulder-avoidance blow-off. Those webcam captures were from the beginning of our relationship mostly – as we were first really getting to know each other — as he was seeing me through some very rough times, (and lavishing me with a lot of affection). He had placated me with my insistance that he eloctronically evolve by buying and connecting a webcam in the first place (at age 72) to bridge the distance between us.

 

Our conversation tonight ended on such a good note. In our travel plans for July we have included a stop at a mutual friend's house in Upstate New York for one night's visit. We've done that before. I asked where I would sleep there, and he said "with me, of course." My heart had wings as I non-chalantly said. "That's cool..okay." 

 

"Good luck tomorrow, Dan, and goodnight."

"Goodnight yourself, Good Lady. I'll call you tomorrow with a report."

 

*sighs*

 

 

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Crazy…

I've been busier'n a cat coverin' up shit the last couple of weeks. I plan to catch up to my Vox neighbors' news soon. (probably tonight) Didn't want y'all to think I wasn't on the green side of earth anymore. I've finally booked my ticket for my yearly Mecca to NY-Maine-Ontario in July. I get to see my dogs and Mr. U's dog perform against other 2-year-olds in the U.S. and Canada. I will also be hangin' out with Mr. U while I'm up there. If I'm lucky, I'll get treated to dinner on the St. Lawrence River. Looking forward to the trip.

Okay, so….anybody know how to lose 40 pounds in 8 weeks? No? Oh well.

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Mouth Full of Cavities (Alt. Music Video)

Mfoc

                                                                       Music Video

Mouthful of cavities, your soul's a bowl of jokes
And everyday you remind me how I'm desperately in need
                                                 See, I got a lot of fiends around
                                                 And they're peaking through nothing new

                                                 They see you…They see everything you do
                                                 See everything on the inside, out

                          Oh, please give me a little more and I'll push away those baby blues
                          Cause one of these days this will die…So will me and so will you

I write a letter to a friend of mine, I tell him how much I used to love watch him smile                                                    See I haven't seen him smile in a little while…Haven't seen him smile in a little while
But, I know you're laughing from the inside out…Laughin' from the inside out

I know you're laughing from the inside out…laughing from the inside, from the inside out
 - Blind Melon

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