To catch you up...I am here. In Rogers. Moved in, new address, new license, new plates, new phones, new neighbors... I will continue to catch you up from time to time, but I dont want to spoil what is my train of thought tonight. Its been hard. I have been living out of boxes in a large home that echoes and desperately needs more furniture. I still dont have a tv or radio hooked up. Ok. Enough of the sissy stuff. Here is the real deal. We had an earthquake three days ago, and two tornadoes touched down and killed five people somewhat south of us.
This shook me awake and I realized that I dont have an evacuation or emergency plan. I knew what to do back home in Michigan, but what about here? So this afternoon I researched some scary stuff and found out that I had believed some pretty significant Myths. Like, you should always go to the SW corner of the basement during a tornado. Well? Dont cock your head at me! That is precisely what I was taught as a kid and I knew nothing different, until today. Now I know to go to a protected area on the lowest floor, like under a stairwell, OR to go to an inner room or hallway, away from all windows. Protect your head. Thick tables make good protection from falling objects. Mattresses and thick comforters can cover you and protect you from flying objects. Bottled water and a flashlight aint a bad idea.
What else made today significant? I found many things today that I knew I had, but didnt know where they were. Precious things. My first baby shoes. My brother's (and later mine) figure skates. My red, amber and green candles that I kept on the hearth at home. My grandmothers portrait. I nailed my first thing up on the wall today: A large mirror over the tibetan tables. Buffet lamps went on next and a few decorative items, and POOF! Instant cozy corner. The house is starting to feel less strange, but only by micrometers.
The thing I cant figure out is this: why am I paralyzed at the thought of going back to Detroit for a visit?
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Losses and Founds...
OK. It is less than 48 hours until the movers get here and start packing up my house. I have been clearing, sorting and redistributing or scrapping all the junk I have accumulated in nearly 20 years here. I've run across things I havent seen since I moved into this house, like some photos from a previous life (mine) and a trunk of clothes from the 80s. That is one of many examples.
On the l0ss side, my myriad hyacinths are just emerging, some of the 400 bulbs I planted last fall, which I will never see bloom. The species crocus are blooming in my perennial garden, and robins are back en mass. But it the trees..these magnificent 200+ yr old oak trees that I hear calling me, asking me how I can leave them, and I dont have an answer. I hear the creak of the wood, the sounds of living here, the sounds of my home. I am feeling the loss of this place on the planet. The only place I ever called HOME. These feelings suck. They suck. It sucks.
Now on the plus side, as there always is one, I found a few treasures that I thought were long gone. A blue topaz ring showed up. Not that I cared much for it, but I wondered where it went and imagined that other things had happened to it, not just being re-assigned a spot among myriad junk. I found my poetry folder, for which I'd grieved. I thought it was thrown away in a previous cleaning frenzy and even accused hub of trashing a huge part of my life. Oops. (Well, he was the one who put it in with unrelated things.) I found photos of dead relatives, younger us, younger me. I cant find my teddy bear from infancy, nor my baby shoes. I cant find some old love letters that I received in my late teens, early 20s. I cant find Christy in anything. My beloved Christy. The only one of my most sacred, treasured friends, that I truly lost through no fault of my own. I still miss her and I ache more now. She found me in Michigan nearly ten years ago...and I had her for about a year then. Suddenly poof. She was gone again. She'll never find me in the Ozarks. She always could rely on finding me here...
So, my birthday is in 7 days. I will turn 50. I will probably be in Arkansas on that day, or maybe not. Who knows. What I do know, is that this is a tough start to the second half-century of my time on this planet.
On the l0ss side, my myriad hyacinths are just emerging, some of the 400 bulbs I planted last fall, which I will never see bloom. The species crocus are blooming in my perennial garden, and robins are back en mass. But it the trees..these magnificent 200+ yr old oak trees that I hear calling me, asking me how I can leave them, and I dont have an answer. I hear the creak of the wood, the sounds of living here, the sounds of my home. I am feeling the loss of this place on the planet. The only place I ever called HOME. These feelings suck. They suck. It sucks.
Now on the plus side, as there always is one, I found a few treasures that I thought were long gone. A blue topaz ring showed up. Not that I cared much for it, but I wondered where it went and imagined that other things had happened to it, not just being re-assigned a spot among myriad junk. I found my poetry folder, for which I'd grieved. I thought it was thrown away in a previous cleaning frenzy and even accused hub of trashing a huge part of my life. Oops. (Well, he was the one who put it in with unrelated things.) I found photos of dead relatives, younger us, younger me. I cant find my teddy bear from infancy, nor my baby shoes. I cant find some old love letters that I received in my late teens, early 20s. I cant find Christy in anything. My beloved Christy. The only one of my most sacred, treasured friends, that I truly lost through no fault of my own. I still miss her and I ache more now. She found me in Michigan nearly ten years ago...and I had her for about a year then. Suddenly poof. She was gone again. She'll never find me in the Ozarks. She always could rely on finding me here...
So, my birthday is in 7 days. I will turn 50. I will probably be in Arkansas on that day, or maybe not. Who knows. What I do know, is that this is a tough start to the second half-century of my time on this planet.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Unexpected Gifts...?
One of the few pleasures in moving seems to be the gathering of friends and family members to get some time with you before you leave. Most of them are aware that the more stuff they give us, the more we have to pack, so gifts have been small and thoughtful. For example, Cousin gave me some Vespa mugs that are adorable. Hub has a few momentos from coworkers and clients. Pictures seem to be a favorite and are very appreciated.
Yesterday was St Paddy's and I went to spend it with BFF. We drank green beer, ate green foods and cavorted late into the evening, when she presented me with a lovely pair of earrings from Northumberland, England. Wow. They are very beautiful!
On the flip side, we tried to return "Shadow" an old black cockapoo to Hub's mother, as we had been dog-sitting while she recovered from a recent illness. I brought Shadow back to mom and was abruptly waved away, with mom spouting, "I cant take care of her. You cant leave her here. Find her another home." And with that, I was stuck with a dog I didnt want. Who is going to take an aged small dog, with her cataracts and her bad house manners? We cant find a home for the poor thing; its crunch-time. And now she's been rejected by the only owner she has ever known, only to be cast into our chaos. So, the poor, displaced pup will have to adjust. I guess she is coming to Arkansas. Sigh. No more gifts, please.
Yesterday was St Paddy's and I went to spend it with BFF. We drank green beer, ate green foods and cavorted late into the evening, when she presented me with a lovely pair of earrings from Northumberland, England. Wow. They are very beautiful!
On the flip side, we tried to return "Shadow" an old black cockapoo to Hub's mother, as we had been dog-sitting while she recovered from a recent illness. I brought Shadow back to mom and was abruptly waved away, with mom spouting, "I cant take care of her. You cant leave her here. Find her another home." And with that, I was stuck with a dog I didnt want. Who is going to take an aged small dog, with her cataracts and her bad house manners? We cant find a home for the poor thing; its crunch-time. And now she's been rejected by the only owner she has ever known, only to be cast into our chaos. So, the poor, displaced pup will have to adjust. I guess she is coming to Arkansas. Sigh. No more gifts, please.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Honey's Home!
It was so good to pick up Hub at the airport today. He was all smiles and so was I. I really have missed him so much, especially with the root canals and being alone with all that pain. Hub didnt bring much, just a small suitcase. We went out to eat and then came home. The birds went nuts. Our large Macaw Gypsy, made dramatic efforts to get close to Hub and when he got within touching distance, stretched out his long neck as far as it would go and shouted, "Hi HUB!" We were both taken aback! Never heard him say that before!
While we were out to eat, I asked Hub how he liked the temporary apartment. Thumbs down, was the response. Then I asked how the laundry was going for him and the corners of his mouth turned down in a suppressed smile.
"You are doing your laundry arent you?"
"Ummm, well, sorta."
"What do you mean, sorta?"
"Ummm..."
"Dont tell me. You havent done ANY laundry?"
"Ummm..."
"What are you doing for clean undies?"
By the look on his face, I already knew the answer. That man went out and bought new underwear instead of laundering his own!
"Well, I needed new everything so I just went and got it. I needed it anyway.... I suppose I should look into finding the laundry room. Uh, Yeah. Maybe that is what I will do when I get back. But I still have a week's worth of new stuff left!"
I informed hub that he had just written the newest blog entry, which made him cover his eyes with his hand.
"Fair enough, Tara. Fair enough."
While we were out to eat, I asked Hub how he liked the temporary apartment. Thumbs down, was the response. Then I asked how the laundry was going for him and the corners of his mouth turned down in a suppressed smile.
"You are doing your laundry arent you?"
"Ummm, well, sorta."
"What do you mean, sorta?"
"Ummm..."
"Dont tell me. You havent done ANY laundry?"
"Ummm..."
"What are you doing for clean undies?"
By the look on his face, I already knew the answer. That man went out and bought new underwear instead of laundering his own!
"Well, I needed new everything so I just went and got it. I needed it anyway.... I suppose I should look into finding the laundry room. Uh, Yeah. Maybe that is what I will do when I get back. But I still have a week's worth of new stuff left!"
I informed hub that he had just written the newest blog entry, which made him cover his eyes with his hand.
"Fair enough, Tara. Fair enough."
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Cartoon Classics
I was nervous today. The man from the moving company was to come over and assess our load for the moving company. I was dreading this for a long time because I am over a week behind on purging this place. That's not to say I havent done any more; Lord knows its only tuesday and there are 13 bags of trash on the side of the house. But still. I was planning on having the basement at least 1/2 way to acceptable. G_G_G_GONG_G_G_G (remember the Gong Show?) With those root canals last week, I not only got Gonged, I got TKO'd. So, I was nervous.
The phone rang ten minutes before he was due, and it was him, telling me he was on his way. Now, judging from his vocal demeanor, he was a laid back guy. He had a timidly familiar voice...one that sent me reeling through the years trying to place it. I couldnt imagine what he looked like, but he was not as asshole on the phone. Anyway, I still had to put on brave-face to open the door. I paced until he arrived. He was a smallish guy, jowly with kinda bulgy eyes, bald on top and a ben-franklin physique, but that voice...? And then it hit me! Droopy Dog! The cartoon about the anthropomorphic dog with the huge jowls and the whiney lisp! And suddenly, my cloud lifted and I was trying to suppress my amusement.
He was so cool! He was Droopy personified! He tottered through the house, holding his little clipboard, looking at me over his nose-glasses and chatting in his self-content little way. We meandered through the rooms and I had to suppress a laugh as I saw his little feet pattering around, moving faster than they were propelling him. I felt like I was stuck in a Roger Rabbit screen test. Hee hee!! Droopy wandered about, peeking into closets and cupboards, asking about certain pieces, particularly the hand-knotted oriental rug and the crystal chandelier, which he said they definitely would not handle.
I still found myself apologizing for the disorganized heaps and sticking closet doors and then Droopy began to chuckle. He was a really cool guy. He told me that he had been in business since the sixties (So he would remember the Gong Show and Droopy Dog!) and he had seen it all. He told me that his company held the record for the most tonnage hauled out of the smallest house in the decade of the 70s. Apparently, a couple living in a 1200 sf house, had 44,000 lbs of crap that took three moving vans 7 days to haul. They wouldnt part with a thing and his company had to pack and move multiple 7-foot high stacks of newspapers, boxes and boxes of rags, bottles tin cans, and probably more than a few kitchen sinks. Can you imagine moving all that shit across the country? So away went my anxiety and back came my smile. Droopy just smiled back. He assured me that we required only one van, even with the motorcycles and the miata. How about that? ::::Big grin:::::
The phone rang ten minutes before he was due, and it was him, telling me he was on his way. Now, judging from his vocal demeanor, he was a laid back guy. He had a timidly familiar voice...one that sent me reeling through the years trying to place it. I couldnt imagine what he looked like, but he was not as asshole on the phone. Anyway, I still had to put on brave-face to open the door. I paced until he arrived. He was a smallish guy, jowly with kinda bulgy eyes, bald on top and a ben-franklin physique, but that voice...? And then it hit me! Droopy Dog! The cartoon about the anthropomorphic dog with the huge jowls and the whiney lisp! And suddenly, my cloud lifted and I was trying to suppress my amusement.
He was so cool! He was Droopy personified! He tottered through the house, holding his little clipboard, looking at me over his nose-glasses and chatting in his self-content little way. We meandered through the rooms and I had to suppress a laugh as I saw his little feet pattering around, moving faster than they were propelling him. I felt like I was stuck in a Roger Rabbit screen test. Hee hee!! Droopy wandered about, peeking into closets and cupboards, asking about certain pieces, particularly the hand-knotted oriental rug and the crystal chandelier, which he said they definitely would not handle.
I still found myself apologizing for the disorganized heaps and sticking closet doors and then Droopy began to chuckle. He was a really cool guy. He told me that he had been in business since the sixties (So he would remember the Gong Show and Droopy Dog!) and he had seen it all. He told me that his company held the record for the most tonnage hauled out of the smallest house in the decade of the 70s. Apparently, a couple living in a 1200 sf house, had 44,000 lbs of crap that took three moving vans 7 days to haul. They wouldnt part with a thing and his company had to pack and move multiple 7-foot high stacks of newspapers, boxes and boxes of rags, bottles tin cans, and probably more than a few kitchen sinks. Can you imagine moving all that shit across the country? So away went my anxiety and back came my smile. Droopy just smiled back. He assured me that we required only one van, even with the motorcycles and the miata. How about that? ::::Big grin:::::
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Bizarro World
How Instant Karma's Gonna Getcha
Merl Squirrel was having a good day. He was supposed to be out hunting for food, but in his meanderings and daydreaming, happened upon a lovely old home in a centurion oak forest. He sees that the house has open eaves and climbs in to have a look around. Holy bonanza batman! The eaves go directly into a knee-wall, which goes directly into a human clothes closet! Delighted, Merl rushes to the nutbar and tells all his buddies about his new "find." He buys his buddies a round with the few tidbits he has found so far, and hangs all afternoon, drinking up his tidbits. Before it was totally dark, Merl, having spent all his tidbits on Nut brown ale, begrudgingly goes hunting for food. He is clearly pissed that his wife had so many kids. They had agreed to not have kids this year. They worked all summer and had all their stores packed away. They were completely ready for winter when Shirley announced she was knocked up. Now its nothing but mid-winter hunting for tidbits, when, dammit, they agreed to not have kids. Merl finds two acorns and knows that if he brings them home, Shirley Squirrel will make him relinquish at least one to their many children (as Merl 'forgot' to use condoms last fall). So, instead of going home, selfishly, Merl eats one acorn on the spot and carries the other acorn into his new hideout. He finds his way into the closet. "Ahhh, perfect, he thinks, "None of my ravenous children will find me here. I can enjoy my acorn in a heated house by myself. Now where shall I sit to dine on my prize acorn?"
The floor is drafty and cold, so Merl climbs up on the clothes bar but find the footing too smooth and has a hard time balancing. So he jumps onto the shoe locker and sits beside a well-loved pair of loafers. Meanwhile, back at the nest, poor Shirley looks at the clock, wondering where that no good bastard is. At the same time she worries, because he said he would bring back food. There isnt a thing in the pantry. She wonders if he is OK or has met the same fate as several other of his drinking buddies, rrrROADKILLlll. "Perish the thought, Shirley reasons, "he's smart and he's giving and he would do anything for the kids. He will find food for us. He's just a little late." She hums and comforts the children, knowing Merl will be home soon.
On the foot locker, Merl looks around. "Nice place" he thinks. "Maybe I will move the whole family in. No--Oh NO what was I thinking!? This can be my secret digs away from the bitch and the brats. I could even have a few buddies over, maybe a few chicks, or that tasty little chipmonk number I had dance for me at the nutbar... and as Merl continues to fantasize that he is da-man, he throws his arms up like Zorba the Greek and does a little dance upon the foot locker. But oops! Merl drops the acorn and it rolls deep into the toe of the well-loved loafers.
"Oh no you dont!" cries Merl and dives in after it to retrieve his hard-won prize. And this is where Instant Karma gets poor Merl. You see, the "owner" of the shoes has never worn socks with them. Since "Owner" forbade Tara to get rid of the smelly, disgusting, broken-down loafers, Tara put them as far toward the attic as she could, in an old foot locker. Whatever "Owner's" unnatural attachment to the loafers was, Tara didnt argue, but simply did what she thought was best. Now when poor Merl went loafer diving, he didnt anticipate asphyxiation, but that, unfortunately, is exactly what happened. As Merl shot toward the toe, he felt the air being sucked out of his lungs as if he had entered a portal to outer space. Fight as he may, Merl was overcome in milliseconds, and died, head stuck in the toxic abyss of the loafer.
Shirley, now unmistakably pissed, bursts in on the nutbar, only to find Merl's plastered friends, passed out, but no Merl. She shakes Earl, Merl's drinking buddy awake and demands to know where Merl is. Earl mumbles something and throws a paw toward the oak forest. "That Sonofabitch, Shirley hisses. "I dont like to go there at night. Too many owls live there." Shirley steals the tidbits out of Earl's pouch. "He's too soused to remember," she reasons, and her children get fed.
Now, the next morning, when Merl still does not return, Shirley finds Earl, decidely hungover, and tells him to go find that lazy, whoring bastard and bring him home. Earl gathers the buddies and they head off to the secret hideout, fearing that Merl was probably with that pretty young chipmonk that gave him a lapdance. They wend their way in and find Merl, stiff and dead with his head stuck in a smelly old loafer. "Pull him out! shouts Percy. "NO! No dont!" shouts Earl and blocks their way. "Something killed that stupid shithead and he wasnt supposed to be here anyway. I say we gnaw his body off and leave it in the road. As soon as a car runs him over, we can take Shirley over and show her that Merl is dog fodder now." The boys all agree, gnaw off Merl's body and carry him away. No one ever returns to the scene of the crime.
The following spring, Tara has the eaves closed on the charming old home, as she thought she'd heard a sort-of tap-dance, emanating from the knee-wall. She never checked on the old loafers and had forgotten all about them. So had the "Owner".
All was well until Tara began cleaning out closets for the move to Arkansas. She found the still-disgusting old loafers, having not seen them for years, and tossed them into a garbage box. But wait, something rolled out of one of the shoes. Tara picks up the strange, bone-colored object and realizes that it is the entire skull of a squirrel. It is complete with long, dark yellow incisors, and neat rows of molars in the back. No other bones. No fur, no feet...oh yes, there was a solitary acorn in the same loafer.
Merl Squirrel was having a good day. He was supposed to be out hunting for food, but in his meanderings and daydreaming, happened upon a lovely old home in a centurion oak forest. He sees that the house has open eaves and climbs in to have a look around. Holy bonanza batman! The eaves go directly into a knee-wall, which goes directly into a human clothes closet! Delighted, Merl rushes to the nutbar and tells all his buddies about his new "find." He buys his buddies a round with the few tidbits he has found so far, and hangs all afternoon, drinking up his tidbits. Before it was totally dark, Merl, having spent all his tidbits on Nut brown ale, begrudgingly goes hunting for food. He is clearly pissed that his wife had so many kids. They had agreed to not have kids this year. They worked all summer and had all their stores packed away. They were completely ready for winter when Shirley announced she was knocked up. Now its nothing but mid-winter hunting for tidbits, when, dammit, they agreed to not have kids. Merl finds two acorns and knows that if he brings them home, Shirley Squirrel will make him relinquish at least one to their many children (as Merl 'forgot' to use condoms last fall). So, instead of going home, selfishly, Merl eats one acorn on the spot and carries the other acorn into his new hideout. He finds his way into the closet. "Ahhh, perfect, he thinks, "None of my ravenous children will find me here. I can enjoy my acorn in a heated house by myself. Now where shall I sit to dine on my prize acorn?"
The floor is drafty and cold, so Merl climbs up on the clothes bar but find the footing too smooth and has a hard time balancing. So he jumps onto the shoe locker and sits beside a well-loved pair of loafers. Meanwhile, back at the nest, poor Shirley looks at the clock, wondering where that no good bastard is. At the same time she worries, because he said he would bring back food. There isnt a thing in the pantry. She wonders if he is OK or has met the same fate as several other of his drinking buddies, rrrROADKILLlll. "Perish the thought, Shirley reasons, "he's smart and he's giving and he would do anything for the kids. He will find food for us. He's just a little late." She hums and comforts the children, knowing Merl will be home soon.
On the foot locker, Merl looks around. "Nice place" he thinks. "Maybe I will move the whole family in. No--Oh NO what was I thinking!? This can be my secret digs away from the bitch and the brats. I could even have a few buddies over, maybe a few chicks, or that tasty little chipmonk number I had dance for me at the nutbar... and as Merl continues to fantasize that he is da-man, he throws his arms up like Zorba the Greek and does a little dance upon the foot locker. But oops! Merl drops the acorn and it rolls deep into the toe of the well-loved loafers.
"Oh no you dont!" cries Merl and dives in after it to retrieve his hard-won prize. And this is where Instant Karma gets poor Merl. You see, the "owner" of the shoes has never worn socks with them. Since "Owner" forbade Tara to get rid of the smelly, disgusting, broken-down loafers, Tara put them as far toward the attic as she could, in an old foot locker. Whatever "Owner's" unnatural attachment to the loafers was, Tara didnt argue, but simply did what she thought was best. Now when poor Merl went loafer diving, he didnt anticipate asphyxiation, but that, unfortunately, is exactly what happened. As Merl shot toward the toe, he felt the air being sucked out of his lungs as if he had entered a portal to outer space. Fight as he may, Merl was overcome in milliseconds, and died, head stuck in the toxic abyss of the loafer.
Shirley, now unmistakably pissed, bursts in on the nutbar, only to find Merl's plastered friends, passed out, but no Merl. She shakes Earl, Merl's drinking buddy awake and demands to know where Merl is. Earl mumbles something and throws a paw toward the oak forest. "That Sonofabitch, Shirley hisses. "I dont like to go there at night. Too many owls live there." Shirley steals the tidbits out of Earl's pouch. "He's too soused to remember," she reasons, and her children get fed.
Now, the next morning, when Merl still does not return, Shirley finds Earl, decidely hungover, and tells him to go find that lazy, whoring bastard and bring him home. Earl gathers the buddies and they head off to the secret hideout, fearing that Merl was probably with that pretty young chipmonk that gave him a lapdance. They wend their way in and find Merl, stiff and dead with his head stuck in a smelly old loafer. "Pull him out! shouts Percy. "NO! No dont!" shouts Earl and blocks their way. "Something killed that stupid shithead and he wasnt supposed to be here anyway. I say we gnaw his body off and leave it in the road. As soon as a car runs him over, we can take Shirley over and show her that Merl is dog fodder now." The boys all agree, gnaw off Merl's body and carry him away. No one ever returns to the scene of the crime.
The following spring, Tara has the eaves closed on the charming old home, as she thought she'd heard a sort-of tap-dance, emanating from the knee-wall. She never checked on the old loafers and had forgotten all about them. So had the "Owner".
All was well until Tara began cleaning out closets for the move to Arkansas. She found the still-disgusting old loafers, having not seen them for years, and tossed them into a garbage box. But wait, something rolled out of one of the shoes. Tara picks up the strange, bone-colored object and realizes that it is the entire skull of a squirrel. It is complete with long, dark yellow incisors, and neat rows of molars in the back. No other bones. No fur, no feet...oh yes, there was a solitary acorn in the same loafer.
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