Coffee Time with Lyn

random topics I’m interested in and want to discuss.

Selling your home isn’t for the weak of heart, part 8 and other crap.

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Yesterday, was extremely stressful with the home inspection. Today, I just can’t get myself motivated. There’s still so much to pack but… I’m just not caring. I went to shut the lights off on the lower level yesterday, yup again they left all the lights on. There’s the frigging radon test sitting right in the way of my packing. If I move any of the books on the shelf I could disturb it. The frigging inspector knew we were right outside, he could have asked if it was alright to put it there and I would have moved my books so he could have his result and I could still continue sorting my books for goodwill, the library and what is going with me. But nope, the f-head didn’t. He set it right on top of a stack of books.

I go upstairs last night, the three step ladder that I normally keep in the closet was in the sewing room. Why did he move it there and why didn’t he put it back. He left the ceiling fan on high in addition to all the lights. I go to prepare dinner and the knobs on the gas stove aren’t turned off. They left two knobs half on. Nor did they close the screen door. What is it about not shutting doors behind them. And he leaves us a note on the table about keeping all the windows and doors closed for a week for the radon test.

I want to go to each of these dipshits home and turn all their lights on and to leave their appliances on as well. I’m not thrilled with the added cost to our electrical. The sun was shining brightly, lights were only necessary on the lower level. Like I said, this is my first experience with selling a home. Well this experience, has convinced me I never want to own a piece of property again that potentially leads to a sale. Our realtor chuckled at that yesterday, I don’t think he realizes how serious I am. This is an experience I never want again. And we don’t even know if the potential buyer is going forward. She’s waiting to read the dipshit inspector’s report.

If it didn’t involve wearing orange, and a life with out Vic and Macavity my solution would be burn this place after I removed our books, cookware, and clothes.. A clean break period. That’s how I really feel about this situation.

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”― Albert Einstein

My morning began with a spoofing email telling me that Amazon shipped my purchase to a Charles Hilton in San Antonio, Texas. No I didn’t call the number, instead I called the credit card company linked to Amazon. They took the information and then forwarded me to Amazon’s fraud department. We did the security process, and I added another measure to any purchase over a set amount in addition to the two step verification. I hadn’t bothered because this card has a low credit limit unlike my other cards. I don’t normally make large purchases on Amazon so I didn’t think it was necessary. Well, today I changed it all have required authorization.

Get that handled and a few emails down I got one of those black emails stating their going to expose my masturbation pictures to my friends and family on Facebook. If I want to protect myself I need to send them 300.00 dollars immediately. I was tempted to respond, go ahead make my day but I simply deleted it.

I decided enough of the computer, I’m going to read. The phone rang six different times. Two were offering to help me with social security and the other four were about my expired car warranty. I put my phone on silent mode.

UPS delivers a box. Yay, my coffee has finally arrived. I open the box and there are two cases of cold brew lattes and three boxes of Keurig pods. Nope, not what I ordered. I ordered 6 one lb bags of coffee beans. Thankfully, Brad at Deathwish promptly responded and they’re immediately shipping the correct order. He told us to enjoy the mix up on them. Vic gets a treat because I don’t drink milk or sweetened coffee. We don’t have a Keurig. I can open them easily or simply donate them to the food cupboard.

Some days, I shouldn’t get out of bed.

Macavity agrees he’s been snoozing comfortably on the back of the chair soaking up the sunshine.

Lucky 🙂

Listed some stuff on Facebook marketplace, didn’t take long to get someone offering to send me a check and I could cash it and when they arrive on May 2nd I can give them the difference. No thanks I’m not getting involved in any money laundering schemes. Then another wanted me to ship it to them when it says local pick up only.

I’m going back to reading the recent Writer’s Digest issue before I begin dinner prep. It’s been a no-motivational day, hopefully tomorrow’s proof of occupancy will be less stressful and I can get back to packing. I did count, sixty three boxes a lot less than I anticipated for this 2125 square foot house. I have half of the kitchen done and then it’s our clothes and linens. Then it comes to the bigger items … furniture. Thankfully, I’ve been thinning that too!

I would get all kinds of flack if I did what I did with my previous living room set in Maine. The ex was supposed to take one and I got the other. He took the one he knew I loved. Fine I tried to drag his outside. I managed to get it stuck in the door. So I took the chainsaw and cut it down. Who knew how big those springs were 🙂 did a number on his chain saw. If that wasn’t bad enough he left me 30 years of Guns and Ammo magazines on the floor, he took the metal storage bins they were in. Fine I added them to the couch in the driveway. Poured gasoline over the pile and tossed a match thinking the fire would go outward not upward. I took the electrical and phone lines both out. Oops. It was long before the local fire department showed up.

The fire chief asked what I was doing.

“Burning a 30 year marriage. Want a beer?” We sat and watched the fire together drinking our beer together until the fire went out.

New Jersey doesn’t have the same kind of comraderies’ that Maine does. I miss that. I’ve met more New Jersey people who wouldn’t say shit if they had a mouthful especially in the Princeton/Lawrenceville area. I miss real people. Don’t get me wrong, there are some nice people but they’re far and few. Einstein had it right, “Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the universe.” … Me either.

I’ll leave you with this

Selling your home isn’t for the weak of heart part 6

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I packed a lot of my bulkier pans today, and moved the ones that I had hanging on the copper pot bar by extra hooks into the cupboard. The pan rack came with six copper hooks but I had way more pans than that so when we hung it up we doubled the chain support and bought extra wrought iron hooks to hold my handled pans. This freed up the cupboard space for all the non-handled pans. The cupboards look less congested now. I didn’t want the next owner thinking all the wrought iron was included when she returns with the building inspector on Tuesday. People are quite presumptuous.

I’m still amused that she noted all landscaping in the bid. Upon further discussion, she was including my planters which are not permanent. Sorry about your luck, buy your own. Some of my planters went to my son’s and some are going with me. When we moved here there was nothing but that ugly green ivy that contractors use. The previous owners did nothing prior to us. In the back yard, I’ve planted hostas, peonies, juniper, hydrangea, lilies, and 2 beautiful rose bushes. There was a rhubarb patch but I’m not seeing it yet this spring. We did have a very wet and cold winter so it may not be returning. In the front, I’ve planted more hostas, 2 more roses, daffodils, lilies, tulips, gladiolus, and a weeping cypress. It’s a lot prettier than it was.

Macavity’s portable dvd player arrived yesterday. He wore out ours watching a cat sitter dvd. Yes, they make videos for cats. It has a continuous loop with birds at a feeder, mice playing in a cage, pigeons on a sidewalk, an owl in a tree, chipmunks scurrying in the grass, butterflies and cricket sounds in a meadow and the occasional frog. He watches for hours at a time, occasionally trying to catch with his paws. Originally, I got the dvd because he had separation anxiety when he first came to our home.

One of the funniest experiences with the original dvd player was the button to turn it on was on top. The television is a touch screen. I used to walk over touch the tv and then the dvd player before we left to do errands. Macavity recognized my scent and began turning the tv and player on himself. It would come on in the middle of the night basically whenever he wanted it. The little shit would even interrupt my program by pushing the dvd start button. Anyway, a friend was spending the weekend with us and I warned him he might hear the tv in the middle of the night. Not to be concerned it would only be Macavity. He rolled his eyes at me.

Surprise, in the morning he says to me the tv woke him up and when he got up to see he noticed our door was open and we were both in bed. Yeah, the hall light does luminate our room if we don’t shut the door which we typically don’t so our cats have free roam. He came downstairs to investigate and no one was visible so he shut the tv off. He didn’t make it up the stairs and the tv came back on. I burst out laughing. And reminded him that I warned him Macavity liked his tv time.

I’m hoping between the familiarity of riding in the car, the lavender calming collar and the dvd player will make our move a positive experience for all of us. I moved it to the bench so I could use my table. He’s intently watching right now while I write. He hopped down off the bench, grabbed a snack while I was packing and returned to the dvd. Usually, he paces while I pack things. Change isn’t easy for Macavity.

7 days left in April and 30 days in May and this experience ends and our new one begins.

Did you see yesterday Joe Long passed. He’s the second member of the Four Seasons. Tommy DeVito passed last fall. Covid didn’t care that they were talented musicians. I’ve been listening to a lot of oldies while I pack. Like Macavity, I need to be less stressed with this what seems like an insurmountable task.

I saw this yesterday . It reminded me of conversations I had with a dear older friend in Maine. There are still several things I haven’t managed but I will. I’m looking forward to a new beginning.

“A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ….
enough money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own even if she never wants
to or needs to…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ….
something perfect to wear if the employer or date of her
dreams wants to see her in an hour…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
a youth she’s content to leave behind….
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ….
a past juicy enough that she’s looking forward to
retelling it in her old age….
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …..
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black
lace bra…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ….
one friend who always makes her laugh… and one who
lets her cry…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ….
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone
else in her family…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ….
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a
recipe for a meal that will make her guests feel honored…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ….
a feeling of control over her destiny…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
how to fall in love without losing herself..
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
HOW TO QUIT A JOB,
BREAK UP WITH A LOVER,
AND CONFRONT A FRIEND WITHOUT RUINING THE FRIENDSHIP…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
when to try harder… and WHEN TO WALK AWAY…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
that she can’t change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
that her childhood may not have been perfect…but it’s over…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
what she would and wouldn’t do for love or more…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
how to live alone… even if she doesn’t like it…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
whom she can trust,
whom she can’t,
and why she shouldn’t
take it personally…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
where to go…
be it to her best friend’s kitchen table…
or a charming inn in the woods…
when her soul needs soothing…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
what she can and can’t accomplish in a day…
a month…and a year…”
― Pamela Redmond Satran

Selling your home isn’t for the weak at heart part 5 and other crap.

/ lyncrain / 2 Comments

The original buyer who offered and then withdrew came back into the picture. Contracts are signed, building inspections are scheduled so it looks like we’re moving forward. The proof of occupancy inspection is scheduled. That one amuses me, they charge us sewer, water, and cat licenses in addition to the ridiculous amount of 1000 dollars per month for property taxes now they want another 80.00 to come inside and confirm we live here. Are we having fun yet?

The packing is still happening though a lot has hit Goodwill in this downsizing adventure. Today, after doing a banishing ritual of my mother-in-laws negative energy I packed all of her dishes, and books for Goodwill. I will not have her toxicity in our new home. Exorcism works for me.

For those of you who were blessed with awesome mother-in laws keep in mind there are equally as many if not more that were not. I was not. It breaks my heart how she treats my husband. She left him as a baby, has never developed any maternal instinct and continuously blames him for all of her alleged shortcomings since his birth and when she’s done with that she proceeds with all the things she feels he has failed according to her. It doesn’t matter in her eyes, he will always be a disappointment until she needs something. Which recently was not living alone but since she can’t control where that location is, he’s a failure again. How dare us to want Las Vegas over Edwardsville, Illinois.

Unfortunately, she’s not the only crap surrounding us. Vic and I both have had more than our share. His frustrations has been work related while mine has been someone who feels the need to micro-manage. I realize .. she may think her intentions are good but when the person repeatedly steps on my toes than I tend to get quite grumpy. Her intervention doesn’t change the fact that rules were actually put in place for a reason. There was a lot of discussion involved to establish a good working environment for all but when some one forgets why they’re in place because they’re self absorbed then situations get uncomfortable. This has occurred several times recently and my concerns were brushed aside because someone felt they knew better. Just to be clear they’re not part of the leadership team nor were they part of putting the rules in place so we could avoid situations like we had. I’m not known for being subtle or tactful but I am brutally honest and that does tend to annoy people. My grandmother always said if you can’t say something nice say nothing at all. My grandfather on the other hand said the truth ultimately prevails don’t sugar coat it just spit it out. There are times when both of their advice has prevailed. Last night and sleeping on it did nothing to change my feelings of being micro-managed. I heeded my grandfather’s advice and said it like it. You’ve pissed me off, period.

Apartment shopping is exhausting, I’m thinking right now a tent is looking pretty good. Budget versus actual space needed and still having funds left over to enjoy life. We’re so over robbing Peter to pay Paul. Living in NJ is just to frigging expensive.

I’m happy to say Macavity is getting used to the car, he doesn’t fuss once he is in the car. He even ate treats and drank water. All is left is using the litter box while the car is in motion. I’ve read a lot of people drug their cats but this isn’t a direction I want. I have never drugged my cats, I don’t want to start now especially since Macavity already has a heart condition. Saturday, he snuggled comfortably in my arms and fell asleep. That works for me. We’ll probably snooze a lot on the way to Vegas. Just to be safe, we’ve introduced a calming collar infused with lavender.

I’ve read a lot of different blogs and medical information about drugs and cat interaction. I prefer to continue with the direction we’re on by making traveling a familiar thing, his favorite things and lots of snuggling.

https://www.medicinenet.com/pets/cat-health/treating_behavior_problems_in_cats.htm

11 Things to Know About Cat Sedation for Travel

Anyway, our adventure begins just over a month away. I’m looking forward to starting over with Vic and Macavity.

Selling your home isn’t for the weak of heart part 4

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Our house has been on the market now 2 weeks with about 15 perspective buyers wandering through our home. One outright said it was to expensive. Well, it is selling for five thousand over the evaluated tax price listed with the town, so I don’t think so. Nor is higher priced than the other three in our development that have recently sold. So get real

We did, especially since we came into this house when the market was higher and paid high for this house. And then ended up syncing 50,000 in here for windows and sliding glass door. No they’re not typical windows, they’re all custom sized bay windows. The worse was the nine foot by four foot in the living room. But price wise the nine foot sliding glass door was close. Can’t change the size because of the Home Owners Association. Never going to live with one of them again. Let’s just says assholes and leave it at that.

We had three others express interest but only one actually made an official offer. Unfortunately, it wasn’t high enough to cover the mortgage and closing costs and leave us with enough to pay for our move. We didn’t expect a high profit margin, truly all we needed was enough to cover the move and make a deposit on a rental. Just in case, you aren’t familiar with closing costs, the state gets a chunk, the town gets a chunk, the realtor and legal fees. All of them together get more than us. It might as well be a short sale but that typically scares buyers away because the mortgage company has the final say. We would be in the same place financially.

Our mortgage company thus far or should I say like it is the investor who scoffed up our mortgage has been a royal pain in the ass. You know he didn’t pay full price for the loan but damn well expects to make a high turn around. If it wouldn’t be such a huge negative credit mark, I’d simply dump it and let them deal with everything. Because right now we’re negative on what we need to cover hiring a moving company and having the security deposit for our next apartment.

Another showing today, maybe a better offer. It’s good Friday, one can hope.

On the brighter note, I’m enjoying how pretty it looks inside since my son John, Debbie and Brian painted it. The house feels so peaceful inside. Outside, the lilies and hostas have all sprouted. The daffodils and hyacinths are in bloom, the tulips are close. My gorgeous rose bushes all have red new growth. I’m going to miss my gardens. 😦

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”
― Lao Tzu

I remember

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Monkey bars, swings, see-saws and playground tilt-a-whirls and painted hopscotches all on the pavement at our elementary school. It didn’t take long for me to learn the value of paying attention because when I didn’t… I got all skinned up with some interesting battle scars. All of us at some point, had a few but everyone loved the creative space to be whatever we wanted.

Not all of my classmates were as lucky because my father created an awesome playground at home for my siblings and myself with everything the school had except ours were on the lawn. Slipping or falling wasn’t as painful at home. Recess was always to short so as soon as we got home, we’d play until dinner time.

But then the Parent-Teacher Association decided that the playground equipment was too dangerous so they were all removed and sold off. Recess involved jump rope or dodge ball games. Not as much fun to me. However, that’s when our home became the cool place to hang out for all the neighborhood kids. My father wisely purchased another see-saw, the monkey bars and one more tilt-a-whirl for our increased usage. After school our yard was the place to be until we had to go inside. It irritated my mother that the kids didn’t take the hint and go home. She would shoo them home at dark. We always heard her complaining to our father that someone was going to get hurt out there.

During the summer months we were always at my grandfather’s in Vermont. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the neighborhood kids from playing at our house. I remember the summer I was eleven coming home to find both tilt-a-whirls broken and a see-saw busted. My father unassembled them and tossed them in the dumpster. No one offered any explanations or apologies for the broken equipment. A couple of the kids complained when they weren’t replaced. One more cruel sign childhood was ending.

I miss the wind whipping my hair back as the tilt-a-whirl spun.

What was your favorite playground equipment piece?

Spring teases and safekeeping

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She shivered as she strolled toward the bed of tulips and daffodils blooming in vibrant red and yellow surrounded by bright green grass. The rose bush branches are green again with red tips indicating new growth. The sunshine is deceptively bright but not warm. Spring has sprung but Mother Nature’s orneriness is apparent with warm one day, chilly the next.

There are so many things to do but she’s content sitting here with my computer and the finches tossing thistle everywhere. It’s a good thing the junco’s don’t mind eating from the deck otherwise there would be lots of wasted seed. It’s a wonderful time … seeing everything reborn but then it raises the concern of what is already established.

Looking over at Grandma’s Christmas cactus blooming for Easter this year she’s at loss as what to do with her future. She’s been with her since 1981. Her Grandfather gave the plant to her Grandmother in 1940 for their wedding anniversary. She’s cared for it forty years now with a couple of close scares. Thankfully, for an eighty one year old plant it’s looking mighty fine right now. Will it handle another relocation? The difference in temperatures and water may be a factor like it was initially relocating to Jersey from Maine back in 2007.

She stockpiled up on well water and gradually introduced purified city water to the mix. She learned that the hard way when the cactus first came into her care. She wasn’t thrilled with well water at first and our beginning was a bit shaky. And our house was definitely cooler than her Grandmother’s especially during the months without the heat from the woodstove.

The cactus be with her until her death but then what… is the question. There’s also the cactus that Vic gave her when they began living together back in 2004. None of her children are really avid gardeners. At one point, she had hope for Chris but after taking him his cactus plants he had started in Maine to Virginia when she needed to downsize her indoor plants. It was heartbreaking seeing him promptly let them die from neglect. He put them on the front porch of his house. Out of sight, out of mind and they died. She had nurtured them for fifteen years. Grandma’s cactus can’t be trusted with him.

She looked at the millennials or gen y’s (1981-1996) and seeing no interest in tradition or family memories. She’s sorry if she’s labeling the majority, but from what she’s experienced thus far with her interaction, they’re too focused on instant gratification. Her oldest granddaughter can’t see past the Rave concerts and that scene. Some millennials aren’t afraid of being catalysts of change, but others are too busy, while some are galivanting around having soy chai lattes and attending hot yoga. Some give new meaning to the entitlement mentality. Vic’s children are classic examples of you owe me. Generation x (1965-1980) isn’t much better. They’re the misunderstood generation that’s still looking for themselves. Yeah, that describes her children quite well. Each building careers but not positive if it’s what they love. They want more things like the boomer generation but don’t want to be like their parents either. Generation z (1997- 2010) are socially aware, hashtag savvy. Some have a foothold in the government, while others have taken an entrepreneurial stance. Yes, they’re outspoken on their needs but not so much concerned about the boomers or gen x’s. Again, she sees personal gratification without any appreciation of history or tradition. Gen Alpha ( 2011-2025) has had to bear a lot of upheaval with Covid-19. The results aren’t all in as to how well they endured being forced into a virtual learning world, isolated from social interaction.

“There is no creation without tradition; the ‘new’ is an inflection on a preceding form; novelty is always a variation on the past.” -Carlos Fuentes,

So she’s at a loss on what to do to maintain Grandma’s and their cactus’s safe keeping. Or is it simply to much to hope for that someone will nurture and love the plants with their memories.

Grandma’s cactus is the top one and Vic and mine is the lower one up close in the picture.

“Tradition is a guide and not a jailer.”- W. Somerset Maugham

Pondering those things I cherish

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The memories they hold and the stories they tell. On the fireplace mantle I have a piece of driftwood under the picture of the seagull swooping down over the sand. It’s a grayish brown in color and straight with rounded ends. Nothing spectacular visually but it has a story.

I was working for Northern Outdoors Whitewater Rafting at the Forks, Maine on weekends and driving school bus during the week. On this day, I was carrying food down to the halfway point on the Kennebec River like the other bus drivers for the different rafting companies. A friend of mine, Brenda Gleason was there for New England Whitewater. She and I drove school bus together as well. We had time on our hands waiting for the rafts when I pulled the driftwood from the river. Brenda asked me what was bothering me. Typical me, said everything was fine and dandy. That was always my answer when I didn’t want to talk about things.

I put the piece of driftwood in my bus. I didn’t think about the driftwood again until much later. It was gone when I went to retrieve it after my shift. No surprise. At that time in my life, nothing went as as it was supposed to be.

Monday morning I unlocked my school bus and there on the dash of my bus was the missing driftwood with fine and dandy wood burned along the side. I didn’t see Brenda until later in the day. I thanked her for making my driftwood log special.

That piece of driftwood traveled in my Pontiac Catalina, then my Ford truck and then my Dodge Neon before becoming a part of beach décor. I’m guilty of still saying when I don’t want to talk… I’m fine and dandy.

I’m not sure where it will be displayed in our next home but I know it definitely going with us.

“Memory is the diary we all carry about with us.”― Oscar Wilde

My Rocking chair

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is navy blue with a beveled seat that feels just right. The arms are flat with curved ends that draw my eyes to the decorative notches in the structure. When I study it closely, I notice how the light plays off the painted finish. It holds my afghan perfectly on the tall back rest.

I’m reminded of my grandparents dining room. There was a card table by the window with a huge word find sheet and several pencils. There were a pair of rocking chairs on the other side of the room with a small table and a lamp. They used to sit together at night reading together. My grandmother’s rocking always had a cushion tied to the seat that hid the slat design of the seat. I never liked the cushion, I preferred the simplistic beauty of the chair as it was designed like my grandfather did with his rocking chair. He balked so much when my grandmother tried to make them match. She stashed it in the closet. Eventually, it migrated to her chair when her cushion cover gave out.

I remember sitting in his rocking chair. I loved the distinct noise on the hardwood floor with every rock. I found comfort in the sound while my grandmother puttered. Sometimes, I used to rock fast hoping it would carry me off to some magical place. The arms were just right I could easily navigate through space. I was invincible.

Other times, the rocking chair would whisper sharing it’s memories before it became a rocker. It was a sturdy oak tree on the edge of a meadow. The sun tickled it’s branches each sunrise and sunset. Children climbed its sturdy branches. The rocking chair confided those moments gave him the most joy.

I asked him if it hurt becoming a rocking chair. He didn’t answer at first but I stubbornly persisted as children tend to do. He said, the most important thing was now. He had a new purpose and it gave him joy. He said my enjoyment in his safe arms was worth it all. He was happy going on adventures with me.

I think he enjoyed rocking me away from everything that made me sad. His gentle sway always filled me with pleasure like a secret lover’s touch. I think he loved me as much as I loved him. I wonder if he ever thinks of me.

Its been forty five years since I’ve sat in my grandfather’s rocking chair. A few years ago, Vic got me a rocking chair for my birthday. I sit in my rocking chair letting the swaying of each rock carry me back to those special times at my grandparents. Maybe someday my rocking chair will whisper to my granddaughter.

https://genius.com/Gwen-mccrae-rockin-chair-lyrics

Stream of pomegranate

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Only Leslea Newman would choose a pomegranate for prompt to use in stream of consciousness writing. Yes, the fruit is a power color or as some would say a royal color. Although, I’m not fond of eating fruit that stain my fingers, but I do enjoy a glass of pomegranate juice. And it’s a nice change of pace from all the green hype. Just so you know, fresh juice doesn’t have to be green or full of spinach to be healthy.

Speaking of healthy, I decided to toss a soup together in the crockpot. It’s dreary and rainy again and a good hot bowl of soup is the perfect comfort food. I’m all about comfort these days. It’s not easy in this stressful existence to balance good meals and keeping the house looking unlived in.

Checked the balances in our account, no stimulus payment again. That’s three times we’ve not received anything. Our address hasn’t changed nor have our bank accounts. I’m not even sure why I bother checking, I only get more depressed. At least, our cupboards aren’t bare… I’m thankful I always kept them well stocked for emergencies. I just didn’t expect them to be happening for such a long period of time. No deposits from the insurance companies yet for Vic’s commissions. Absolutely deplorable! I totally understand why there is such a high turnover among insurance agents, the f-ing companies don’t pay consistently. It’s all about the shareholder’s and ceo’s accounts. There’s also the first quarter reports involved, got to keep that looking good for new investors. Yeah, lots of gray area to go around but that doesn’t pay bills.

Macavity was snuggled with me when I woke up this morning. He came down with me, watched me make coffee and then his breakfast before snuggling on my lap while I free wrote in my journal. He wasn’t happy when I picked him up so I could grab another coffee. He should know by now that nothing comes between my coffee consumption. Anyway, he’s lying in front of the window on his pillow. So there’s peace in both our worlds thus far, because there aren’t any showing requests yet.

I just finished reading Nina George’s The Little Paris Bookshop. What an interesting perspective! The story unfolded in first person with us joining Monsieur Perdu on his floating bookstore on a barge on the Seine River. He interacts with customers from time to time but mainly we’re reliving his pain from a lost love. He refuses for the longest time to read the letter she sent him. When he finally does, he sets off on a mission to where she lives. Our gift from this book is a reminder how the literary world can take the human soul on a journey of self-discovery and healing. Sometimes, we just need to be reminded of the power of stories and how they shape our lives. Amusingly, the back cover of the book is the same color as a pomegranate.

Thinking ….remembering my childhood. I wore my mask well, hiding behind laughter. I longed for someone back then to save me from my self-hate but no one cared enough. Now, I’m older and a lot wiser but there are times when my dark mind… fears, insecurities and the urge to cut again rises. Depression is a continuous battle that even a good cup of coffee can’t cure.

Just getting it done

/ lyncrain / Leave a comment

Sometimes, it’s just a matter of putting your foot on the ground and then going through the motions masking whatever stress we feel just to function I love when people tell me, put a happy face on and before you know it you’ll be out of the funk you’ve been in. Yeah right, if only silver dollars fell from the sky too. Nothing is ever that easy. Times like this, I actually envy robots, they have the luxury of programming. Humans on the other hand malfunction more than function.

Yesterday, I woke up and absentmindedly reached down to pat Yeatsie. No Yeatsie, no cat bed beside my bed. No Macavity snuggled by my legs. I felt alone even though Vic was still sleeping beside me. Then I rose, made coffee and opened Facebook to discover a good friend had passed away unexpectedly. As I sat, thinking about our last conversation the phone rang and it was the vet’s office telling me Yeatsie’s body was back from cremation. All of this before I finished my first cup of coffee. Needless to say, the day didn’t improve emotionally.

I found myself wondering where I bought the candle I lit for Bruce because it seemed to burn forever. I know I could have distinguished at any point but that’s not my way. I always light a candle to help guide a loved one’s journey to the other side. Many of Bruce’s friends lit their own candles along with mine… he was loved. Wil I be as loved when it’s my time. I hope so.

I glanced at Yeatsie’s urn, it matched Purryl’s perfectly. Three urns with my beloved fur babies all in red cherry sitting together isn’t how I expected life to be but then no one thinks of the time when our pets depart their physical bodies.

I made it through the day, packing up more stuff until I was exhausted and it was time to chair the writing group on zoom. By the time that meeting ended my mind was too exhausted to think and the pillow felt inviting.

This morning, I woke with Macavity beside my legs and I thanked him for making the beginning of my day comforting. He nuzzled my hand and stretched out on the bed. He wasn’t ready to rise yet but I was. Thursday is trash pick up so sleeping in is out of the question. I could have put it out last night but the rain was torrential and I didn’t find it appealing to get saturated before going to bed. The fog is lingering this morning, kinda like Macavity wanting the day to wait for him.

Adding to the daily stress is the mortgage company representing the investor calls every f-ing day. to find out the status of the house. Yes, they harass us every single day except Sunday. I’m beginning to think the investor who owns our loan just wants to take the deed in lieu and sell it himself cutting us out of the picture. Nothing has been easy in this picture since covid drastically impacted our finances. The Care Act is pretty clear on our rights as homeowners but our wallets can’t handle hiring an attorney and this sleeze ball is confident he can pull the rug out while fattening his wallet.

It’s a wonder we rest at all, I believe our bodies shut down out of sheer mental exhaustion.

Sometimes, I wonder if living is really worth this,