Tag: grateful

  • nancy is an asshole

    Several weeks ago now, I crocheted myself a jute purse. It is cute, and I am in love with it. It went with me to Kansas City and fits perfectly under an airplane seat, and it went with me through all three Universal Parks a week and a half ago.

    I love it.

    I don’t love that it sheds pretty badly. I’ve tried sealing it with mod podge, I’ve tried heat blocking. Nothing helps. It is going to shed. It’s not a problem with the outside, but it does get all over anything you put in it, and it’s the perfect size for both my camera and laptop so that was a big problem.

    So, I decided to finally line the whole thing. Here it is before lining:

    Yes! It has a pocket! A really great one.

    So, we went and got felt for the lining because I knew that would be easy on my camera.

    Jared was kind enough to sew the actual lining part into one piece, on the condition that I do the hand-stitching into the bag:

    All went well, until Jared was sewing away and here comes asshole Nancy, above, literally to bat the THREAD OFF THE SEWING MACHINE WHILE IT WAS SPINNING….

    Nancy took off with the thread in her mouth… got all the way to the other side of the house before Jared caught her and pulled the thread away.

    Or, so we thought.

    The finished bag is fabulous. Solved the shedding problem; here is the lined bit before I lined the pocket:

    I did decide to line the pocket, and it is all the better for it.

    This was all last Saturday. Today is Thursday.

    Nancy was low-key missing most of the week. I didn’t go looking for her, I saw her sitting in a chair yesterday morning, but I didn’t worry about her. She is not a social cat in general and will vaguely tolerate Jared’s picking her up to harass her, for very brief periods.

    Jared likes to cuddle cats. Nancy only just tolerates it occasionally.

    But yesterday, Nancy pooped outside her litter box for the first time in a couple of months. It was a problem previous to us getting two more litter boxes. But it hadn’t happened since. And I noticed, too, that she had black drool coming out of her mouth.

    So we thought maybe she had been eating her own poop or Bess, our other cat’s poop? That was all we could think of.

    But, she was also clingy. She came up and sat by me, but her fur was raised like something was wrong, too.

    It is not normal for Nancy to be clingy, so finally we decided about 8:30 last night to get her to the vet.

    We managed to get to our vet here in Carrollton at 8:30 before they closed at 9 last night, saving us a trip (and lots more in fees) to the emergency vet in Atlanta, thank goodness.

    They took Nancy straight back, and took us to a room. We were just starting to tell the vet tech the sewing story, that she did get into something last weekend, when the doctor came in and said, “I found this? I don’t think she’ll lose her tongue.” And set the surgical utensil with attached string on the table:

    *sigh*

    Apparently when Jared yanked the string to get it away from Nancy last Saturday, the string had only just broken, with a good portion of it lodged around her tongue. The string was deeply embedded in her tongue, and the black stuff was infection.

    So, Nancy got an antibiotic shot, and has to eat canned food for at least a week which means she has to be isolated from the other pets for that time, and we are out $230 which makes my homemade purse I love a lot more expensive than the $35 it had set us back to that point.

    Dumbass cat.

    Anybody want a cat?

  • fallout

    I’ve been procrastinating writing all day.

    First, I slept until nearly 10 AM today.

    Then I got up and ate breakfast, did my gratitude list, did our CHRISTMAS SHOPPING for heaven’s sake…..

    Then I swept the floors in the main area of the house.

    Then I doom scrolled for the better part of an hour.

    *sigh*

    I am on a mission to clean up my house. The house isn’t the problem. Living in my standards of squalor is the problem.

    Sweeping the floors is the first step in combatting this issue.

    My generous Mama offered to have someone come in and help do a deep clean, but honestly, I’d rather just get in the habit of doing it myself. And it’s very embarrassing to have someone come in here and see exactly how bad it really is/was.

    Sweeping the floors went a long way. If I can get to the boys’ bathroom floors yet today the house will nearly be presentable.

    We have 3 cats and 2 dogs. 2 elderly dogs. It makes keeping the house clean an ongoing, losing battle.

    The dogs have reached the puppy-pad stage of life. One of our dogs can no longer hold its bladder all night long and none of us can get up in the night to take her out.

    And truth be told, the grime and the gunk and the clutter– most of which, admittedly, is mine– is a major source of my depression.

    Laundry for 4 people will always be a challenge.

    It’s weird to say laundry for 4 people– I am not doing Porter’s laundry anymore since he has his own apartment on the other side of the state.

    Somehow, laundry for 4 people is not that much better than laundry for 5 people, actually.

    I’m on a mission to be a more regular blogger, too, and to write about the messiness of life on top of the actual messiness of the house.

    And the messiness of life means that writing about stuff that I really don’t want to write about.

    If I put it in writing, then I have to deal with it.

    And dealing with it is uncomfortable.

    It’s easier to be moody and go back to bed.

    But, I probably have the world’s best husband.

    And family, actually.

    And kids.

    And…..

    I am grateful.

    Even if I screw up sometimes.

    The truth is, I brought last December’s trauma on myself.

    I should have known better than to meet up with the person I did.

    But, I did so because I wanted to see for myself if I could face him.

    And, I could. I am stronger than I think I am.

    But the events of those two days plummeted me into a nearly 6-month long psychiatric issue that I am really only just coming to terms with.

    Friendships suffered. Relationships with family suffered.

    I did cut contact off with him, but I caved and messaged him in June.

    And it’s not like the things that bother me don’t bother me. It’s just that usually I can keep my mental crap together enough to watch my own verbal and emotional filters.

    And yeah, that man exposed me to his HPV. And I might have to deal with throat or some sort of other oral cancer someday because of it.

    And it’s even possible that the fallout discovered from the hysterectomy– the extensive fibrosis and scar tissue around my right ovary….all that might have been due to ancient pelvic inflammatory disease I never knew about, due to some unknown STD from being involved with that person a million years ago.

    I wanted to the hysterectomy because I wanted to prevent future cancer risks. I hadn’t known that it was sort of necessary now anyway.

    And I’m still dealing with all the emotional fallout from all that, too.

    And this is stuff I don’t talk about with anybody besides Jared.

    But not writing about it is not doing my mental health any good.

    So, here I am blogging in old 2010-2012 style.

    And hoping that I can keep my crap together long enough to at least get Oliver’s laundry and Liam’s sheets all washed and dried before bedtime.

  • the sun rose a little bit

    The stunning Grinter Farms in Lawrence, Kansas

    It’s no secret that I have been depressed for a while now.

    Apparently I just needed to go see my aunt and uncle, who moved to Kansas a while back, all by myself without the boys or Jared.

    The above picture was taken at Grinter Farms this past Saturday, just after some hot air balloons took off:

    The morning was stunning.

    But while Grinter Farms was nice, it wasn’t the photo op that made the weekend.

    It was spending time with the people I have known who I have loved and who have loved me and treated me as their own my whole life.

    It had probably been since before I married Jared that I had been to see them by myself.

    And while I was there with them, I remembered that life is not so bad.

    I remembered several craft projects I used to do on a regular basis, projects that would probably make pretty good Etsy store items.

    I remembered that consistency is the key to having a tidy house.

    Best of all: I remembered that I am loved. And very, very lucky.

  • nothing is in focus right now

    I took this photo with the X-S20. Apparently I am not so good as the selfie culture at making the camera work in focus with the full articulating selfie screen.

    Yeah. Depressed.

    Feeling my age, my ribs are on the move in a twisty way that isn’t fun feeling. Bored, tired of Carrollton.

    Jared tries. He took me out to the Marina again tonight, after taking me on our weekly outing for Burger King ice cream cones.

    Fun fact, at least in Carrollton, GA: You can get two ice cream cones for $2.12. That’s the main eating out we do during the week.

    And all that was well and good. Until I started in on how I hate Carrollton, how I want Jared to find another job so we can move to Atlanta.

    The same old same old.

    And I don’t know why, when I feel rejected, I go on this whole self-implosion thing.

    Something happened last week that made me change some plans in the next couple of weeks. And as it happens, I am going to see my aunt and uncle instead of doing the thing that I was going to do, and I will likely have a far superior time seeing them and being loved on and all that than I would have had doing the other thing, which was probably riskier than I really want to admit it likely was, to begin with.

    And I’m still mad about last December. Mostly because I’m mad at myself for thinking that inviting drama back into my life was a good idea at all.

    I’ve spent the last nine months pretty darn unhappy because of it. And had an arguably necessary-anyway hysterectomy because I got all freaked out about cancer risks because of that encounter.

    I guess in that respect, I should be grateful for last December. It probably wouldn’t have occurred to me to worry about cancer risks if I hadn’t had that encounter last December.

    And mostly I go around mad all the time because it feels, to me, like just about everybody in my life has some sort of purpose, has their shit together, and I’m just sitting at home.

    And I guess it’s accurate to say that some of the people I have in mind do actually have their shit together.

    But none of them are married to Jared Price. I’m the only one who got to do that.

    And probably not many of them are told on a daily basis the things he tells only me.

    It’s about now in the depression cycle that I realize that it’s been about a week since I’ve done a gratitude list.

    The truth is, not much about my life has turned out the way I thought it would, or honestly, the way that I wanted it to.

    And I mostly walk around mad, angry at the world, and despondent because of it.

    And I think back to that 18 year old and I would tell her to ditch all the preconceived notions about how life should go. That it’s all about to change, like, tomorrow.

    But probably, she’d already known that for a good couple of years or so.

    Tomorrow is a new day. I’ll go volunteer in the city with “my ladies,” as Jared calls them.

    And then I’ll go see my aunt and uncle for the weekend, and probably have some yummy Costco mac and cheese, which I haven’t actually had since the last time I saw them, in February.

    And, I do actually realized how privileged it is that I was born into the family that I was born into, and that we can afford to feed ourselves despite the fact that I do not work.

    It does not negate the fact that I feel somehow that I am not living up to my potential, and there have been missed opportunities. And squandered opportunities. And lost time. and lost relationships.

    But tomorrow, I can try again.

  • and life goes on

    The Marina a little after 8 AM this morning

    I’m actually not sure how depressed I actually am, versus exactly how much I was really just dreading the first day of school.

    The first day of school is today.

    And Liam and Jared got off in time for Liam to be at school for Senior Sunrise. Oliver and I spent about 30 minutes in traffic because for some reason, the first week of school requires people to not drive like they normally would. And for some reason, all those parents who normally do not drive their kids to school, whose children usually ride the bus, have to bring their precious darlings for the first week or so. Or people forget how the crossing guards who direct traffic really do know what they are doing. It’s a thing for sure, the first week of school.

    But, I managed to get them off to school. I managed to get to the Marina for a shortly-after-sunrise photo, which was a regular thing last Spring. I managed to come home and make my coffee. I managed to scoop the cat litter. I managed to get every bit of trash in this house taken out to the dumpster and the dumpster was taken to the street. I’m making my breakfast. I did my meditation. I allowed myself my normal doomscrolling.

    It’s time for a new routine.

    And just for today, I am going to focus on one thing at the time. After breakfast, I intend to do my yoga. I might allow myself a mid-morning nap.

    Food routines have been hard too, and that has also meant there have been entirely too many sweets etc. But this morning I let myself have a piece of my brie before taking Oliver to school. I had my protein bar when I got back. Now that I am having my coffee, water is boiling because I am hungry enough for a real meal so I am fixing myself some Banza pasta with goat cheese and garlic and sunflower seeds.

    And, all that means that I will probably end up being back to somewhat of my intermittent fasting, with eating finishing up around 3 PM. Which is a good goal.

    I feel like I am getting back into a writing routine, which is welcome. It’s strange to think that I was so frozen for so long. I’m still writing about superficial stuff which is okay– the other will come I am sure. But for now, this is enough.

    And it’s a pretty darn good feeling to feel better about the world this morning.