family


I have been a renter for 10 years. To a complete stranger. I am not perfect, I have had issues and made mistakes. Still never in 10 years did she issue a Quit Or Pay order. In fact, to this day I owe her $4,000 in back rent, yet she knows my situation and knows I will pay her when I can (as I always have).

But family, they should know you, right? Especially the ones you have always been very close too. Who saved your husband’s life (emotionally/mentally) when I thought there was no hope. Asking me to be a part of something that I, obviously, might have reservations about (because in spite of the fact that we have been close my entire life) because her husband was in control. He who raped me and my sister. I thought I was forgiving. I thought it made no difference.

The truth is I didn’t have to pay rent at all since the day I had no toilet facilities. But I continued to do so. The truth is I give every penny I have to you for rent that I shouldn’t have to pay at all, legally. I am the idiot.

So, you have your son, who is a pawn but not free of guilt issue an order of 30 Quit. No reason. Not pay or quit. Just quit. In fact, you cut off the legal portion that is required by law to tell me why I have to quit the premises. I probably have more education in tenant/landlord law than you do, but since this has been an illegal rental all along it does not matter.

What matters is that I know. I know my rights and I know what is morally correct. And I love my family. This will not get back to them. Even if you let it, I will not defend myself or have any part of it. You have literally destroyed anything there was. I pity you and I pity your son, but mostly I pity your poor grandaughter who is very attached to us. She already has a divided family that hates each other, how sad to take away her auntie and her beloved Bear.

We will be gone in the 30 days. There is no way to go back from here. Even if it was a “scare tactic” there is no going on from here. Mr. Vixen and I have already prepared our tent. The kids are mostly big now, I only have to worry about Bear and I know where she can go for now. How do former homeowners who make too much money to qualify for aide end up homeless? Like this. 

I have only one warning for you: DO NOT talk about this to my mother (your sister) or my grandmother (your mother), because if you do….

The fires of hell will not compare to the rath you will feel.

 PS I am in the barn. And it is cold. So I have to go now. Rant over….life? not yet. I promise.

I don’t have words to describe
And what would you care anyway
I can roll with the punches
But only because I always have an instant plan
If only it was just me
But it’s not I have to separate myself
And tuck away any emotions
Care for my family, as dwindling as it might be
No matter the instructions
Take care of yourself
Who I am, means I must take care of the youngin’
I just need a place to go
Where I can live with life’s necessities
And not suffer this paralyzing, slow torture
Of punishment and disappointment
Of losing my spark, my soul

Minutes turn to hours, counting seconds tick away. Another day tomorrow, tomorrow’s just another day. Days turn into years, and time goes by, over and over, again and again, and then, years turn into decades. Decades. -Joe Walsh

Ten years is a long time. Ten years is a short time. I remember the last time we talked like it was yesterday. I was surprised you called, you loved conversation in person, but phone calls were not your forte. We had just moved to So Cal and you were so excited for us. I know you loved the area ever since you were in the Merchant Marines stationed on Catalina. I think you saw inside me and knew I was a California girl through and through and that living in Utah had been slowly killing me. So we talked a bit and made some plans for you to come and visit. You asked to speak to Nanny to wish her a happy birthday one day early. She was the last one of us to speak to you. Did you know what was going to happen? Is that why you called? I am so glad we have that conversation to remember. So much has happened since you left. After you were first gone, if I got sad I would go into the front yard where there were three giant pine trees. When the wind blew through them, I could close my eyes and imagine I was with you at the cabin. It was very comforting. The house burned down this past October and when I went by the other day; they had cut down those trees. It nearly broke my heart.

I know you probably watch over us and have seen all the things, but I want you to know we thought of you every time something big happened. Nanny got married at the cabin in the gazebo you and your son built. Remember the beautiful rocking chair you so lovingly made for me when I was pregnant with Nanny? Well now she rocks her two beautiful babies in it. When they are a little older I will tell them all about you so when they rock in it they will understand the love that went into it.

MacDougal is going to be a father. It is an amazing thought. One that brought you to my mind again. I see you sitting at the table with the little MacD, both your faces so intent. You were so creative and artistic and you passed that gift to all my kids. I recall how proud you were when Nanny gave you that painting she had done for you. I do wish you’d had more time with Bear. She took your passing so hard. I didn’t notice it, the school did. They put her in a special grief group with other second and third graders who had lost someone. But she was so young and kids heal so fast, now she hardly remembers much about you. That nearly breaks my heart.

The last few years we haven’t been to the cabin as much. Life just gets in the way. As soon as we get there the first thing my husband does is ask Gram if you made him a list of things that need to be done. She always has a list, just like you did. He loved helping you out that way. He admired you and lived for the praise you would heap on him when he built something or fixed something. You set an excellent example of grandfatherhood and he learned his lessons well. Every night at 5:00, Granma makes herself an Old Fashioned, walks over to your box and toasts you with “God love ya Ralph.” It is so sweet. The love you shared together goes on forever. Growing up watching you two is gift that helps me achieve that level of commitment and love in my marriage.

You lived a long and full life. Your strength, compassion and love helped us all. Five kids, ten grandkids and three great-grandchildren admired you. And now the one new great-grandchild, the two new great-great-grandchildren (and third on its way) are being taught by us about your life, love and strength. It is a powerful story that I love to share. Thanks for everything. I miss you.

I am not watching Jericho right now. I know this must shock and amaze you. No worries, I have the kids TIVOing it for me (I don’t actually have TIVO, but they do).

What, praytell (you are all thinking) could keep Vixen from the return of Jericho?????

MacDougal arrived with his fiance an hour ago and announced (drumroll, please)…………..

I am going to be a Grandma again!!!!!!!!!!!!

My first thought? Hey, so there was no permanent damage. And you know what? That was Macdougal’s first thought also.

Well, folks, here we go again. Woo hoo.

My mom is sick. She developed CRPS earlier this week and was diagnosed with PPH a few months ago. She was doing ok with regards to the PPH until this week during the painful experience of CRPS and her oxygen sats went way down on Wednesday. The doctors put her on 24 hour continuous oxygen. I have been talking to her in the evenings and this morning I noticed she was on AIM (screen names changed to protect the innocent). This is how the conversation went (no worries she is okay and laughing at me as I type this):

vixen (10:10:04 AM): So how are you feeling this morning?

mom (10:12:26 AM): not great

vixen (10:12:38 AM): What’s up? Hand or breathing?

vixen (10:12:43 AM): Or everything?

mom (10:13:17 AM): yeah and a little nausous

vixen (10:13:32 AM): ugh

mom (10:14:16 AM): took a pill maybe it will help

vixen (10:14:32 AM): is it the meds that make you nauseous?

mom (10:14:52 AM): no onr nauseo

vixen (10:15:14 AM): huh?

mom (10:15:23 AM): one for

vixen (10:15:56 AM): but why are you nauseated? is it the pain meds or the fact that you are upset or that you can’t breath?

mom (10:16:55 AM): u bett call

mom (10:17:04 AM): er

vixen (10:17:22 AM): you want me to call the ER?

mom (10:17:34 AM): no me

vixen (10:17:53 AM): is dad there?

mom (10:17:59 AM): no

vixen (10:18:11 AM): I will call you an ambulance

mom (10:18:42 AM): no cant type call me

vixen (10:18:49 AM): oh ok, I see now, you want me to call you

mom (10:19:04 AM): duh

Seriously, I thought she wanted me to call the ER. It did strike me a little odd that she wanted me to call since I am 890 miles away and don’t know the number. Then when I got her on the phone she was laughing so hard and then she yells at me because I should know she can’t type well with only one hand.

I have many issues. This blog is my lifesaver yet I have neglected it. As Harlekwin said in a comment, my depression is definitely situational. I have dug myself a pit and am unable to figure out exactly how I am going to get out of it. I, once again, don’t have a decent TT. I also have not posted the results from my TITT weeks ago. This will sound like a pity party, but I just want to put it out there anyway, because it makes me feel better.

There is not enough time in the day. And I seem to be much, much more exhausted with the pain. To me it seems I am in permanent limbo with these pain issues. I only get better if I don’t do anything. But I am out of paid time off and had to take Monday off without pay. Stupid ass bus that hit me.

It has been rainy and so my commute is longer (WHY can’t SoCal people drive in the rain???) which means I have less free time and more pain from sitting in the car.

There have been some issues with money. Like a lack of food and gas money. And a serious lack of money/diapers/telephone service/seizure medication over at Ladybugs house, so I have been giving all I have to that.

I took the g-babes and their parentals to the snow because I knew it wouldn’t last and it was only 21 miles up the road. We had a great time, but Ladybug had at least one seizure which I witnessed. It was very brief and something her parents witness weekly, but I don’t. Honestly it upset me at levels I hadn’t even recognized until I started typing this and started bawling.

Mr. Vixen’s disability seems to be in permanent limbo. I do not make enough money alone. It has been since August. Any longer and I will lose my only car and my electric and water and possibly my sleeping quarters.

I feel like the biggest, stupidest, most idiotic person on the place of the planet. I haven’t shared with you all (the only people I can share with) most of the stuff that has been happening at the homestead. I talked about how my toilet doesn’t work, but I didn’t tell you all that the barn toilet I was using also broke nearly two months ago. Now I am forced to use the toilet in Cousin It’s house. That is 2.5 acres away. My blood sugar has been poorly controlled and meds have been changed/increased. The side effects are…ummm….toilet usage. Spontaneously and direly in the middle of the night. It hasn’t always been possible. It has been ugly. During a conversation with my aunt/landlady the day after Xmas, I was very honest with her. Nearly hysterical in trying to explain to her how impossible this situation is. The result: “You don’t not have a bathroom. You just have a bathroom that is inconvenient to get to.” I also never told you all that after I moved in I found out there was full ducting for a heater in the MiniCabin, but that they had “saved money” and purchased it without a furnace. So not only do I not have heat (and it has been in the 25-30 range nightly for three months), but I have a bunch of vents that let cold air in. I finally taped cardboard over all of them. We have a lovely electric heater my mother bought me for Christmas, but then our electric bill for the month (the kids don’t have heat in their ‘rooms’ either and so have to use space heaters) was $750. Insanity. I have a plan, but it cannot come to fruition without Mr. Vixen’s SSDI. Catch-22. The stupid part, I continue to pay rent and they continue to harass me about paying it on time.

So many things. All wrong. Most likely illegal. Family. Stress. I have all these things I want to say and write and create. But I come home and suffer silently in pain. Jeebus, this isn’t what I wanted this post to say. But I have to put it somewhere. Please don’t think less of me…Signature

EDIT: Also I have a ton of pictures I want to put up on my 365 and I actually did some kind deeds that I need to post also!! I feel crappy about my lack of posting stuff!

2nd EDIT: After that pathetically sad post, I have to add this video. Because I keep having to go back to it so I can stop crying. It makes me smile and if I keep hitting replay I can forget the ‘look’ when she had the seizure and I hear is “3, 2, 1 Doh”:

I wanted to stay home from work today. But I didn’t. I feel a wee bit of depression lately, but it comes and goes so quickly I rarely catch it in time. I don’t like where my life is right now. I just don’t. That leaks into everything around me.

On a much, much lighter note a little excerpt from Ladybug’s visit this weekend: I am standing in the kitchen starting dinner. Ladybug is taking cans out of my little cupboard and stacking them into can pyramids. Suddenly I realize she is practically yelling at me, because I am not paying attention. I look up and she is inside the cupboard, head stuck out, and hand on the door.

LB: Bye, bye Grama.

Me: Bye, bye Ladybug.

LB: See ya tomorrow.

Me: Ok, see ya tomorrow.

LB: Luffs you. Me: Loves you too.

LB:**big kissy smack sound**

Ladybug shuts the cupboard door. After 40 seconds or so the door bursts open and out she pops! LB: Hi. Hi. Good morning!

I simply dissolve into a puddle of laughter and love.

Title Note: miz·zle -zled, -zling, noun South Midland and Southern U.S. –verb (used with object), verb (used without object) 1. to rain in fine drops; drizzle; mist. –noun 2. mist or drizzle.Signature

I notice lately I am more creative in my thinking. I try things that never would have occurred to me before. However, I also notice that there is not as much room in my noggin’ anymore and my creative juices seem to flow in only one direction at a time.

Yesterday I compiled all the stats from TITT and was going to post them. Then I heard that Butterball can only sleep at night in the pj’s I made her for Christmas. Her little fingers and toes get too cold in all the other pj’s she fits in. She is not quite so much a Butterball anymore, as much as a green bean. She is in the 90% height wise and only 7% weight wise. Can you say tall drink of water? So while I ran down the hill into town, I stopped at the fabric store. I mean its a long drive, might was well stop while I am down there, right?

When I got home Ladybug and Butterball were already at the homestead. That was so distracting, I never got back to the laptop. Could you resist these faces?

I simply could not type what with my fingers being eaten alive:

Then Ladybug had to see if we could take a picture of ourselves.

So today I find myself uninspired to write the results out (I have high expectations of myself to be witty-ish) and find myself unable think of anything but clearing the laptop off my work area and setting up the sewing machine. Because this cute stuff:

It is calling to me saying “Butterball’s piggys are cold…fix that!” And I can’t ignore that voice, could you?

PS: There is also this AFC Championship game going on and the underdog Chargers are winning 3-0! Go Chargers!!!!!! Can you tell I live in San Diego?

EDITED BECAUSE IT”S FUNNY: My husband is a late comer to football fanaticism. I was raised that way and trained taught him in the beginnings of the our relationship. Still he has a much to learn….

He just said, “Aw damnit Hun, the Pirates just made a touchdown” LMAO.

I feel pretty
Oh so pretty
I feel pretty and witty and gay
And I pity
Any girl who isn’t me today
I feel charming
Oh so charming
It’s alarming how charming I feel

Thank you to MacDougal and Funsize for the birthday present I used after work this evening (mani/pedi)!

And if that wasn’t good enough for a Friday I also got this:

From the very lovely and talented herself NannyGoat. I must now award it to ten people…..but I am resting this evening. So the awarding will happen tomorrow. But I wanted the thanking to happen tonight!

 

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