I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.

Dear Peruser,
I really thought I was going to lose little dog Ollie. I mean, thursday his back legs were totally useless and twined around each other. He couldn't put his weight on them and the vet got no reaction when he pinched Ollie's toes. The vet has this very expressive face and I knew it was no good. Ollie got meds and orders for cage rest. I went and bought the cage after getting into it in the WalMart parking lot, but I've already told you that.
I assembled the crate and padded it with pillows and Ollie seemed to accept till till bed time when all he did was scream and scream and scream and Ollie screams like a girl. Really. You wouldn't know that he was a dog. I came out to quiet him and he had somehow pulled the cage down around him. He was shaking and overwrought and I decided that Ollie would never make it in a cage so he was on pillow rest.
I stayed home on Friday so I could carry him out to pee. Poor little guy was so embarrassed as I held his back end up andhe strained to pee. I fussed over him and spoiled him and worried myself sick. Unfortunately the husband was no help. Far from it, he made me feel even less than what I am. he wasn't even in town but the man has a cell phone and he's not afraid to use it.
It rained all weekend and Sunday night the laundry room and parts of the basement was awash. I had to tell the husband four times that the basement didn't leak but rather the drain outside the cellar door got clogged and the water came into the basement. Later it irritated me when the husband used the word we about checking the drain as in we checked it a 9 and by 9:20 it was clogged. What's this we stuff. The man never got off his ass all day long. he didn't check the drain once. And when I was dealing with the floodlet and trying to wrestle with the pump he stood there staring at me with his mouth open. He's luky I didn't hit him in the head with the pump but I swear it would have been justifiable.

So now the basement smells like damp and cat pee and mold. The royal we,meaning me, is still trying to dry things out.

Ollie was feeling better on MOnday but he had a vet's appointment and tried to climb me as I held him in the car. My collar bone is all scratched and bruised and since it's a pressure point for fibro it hurt like crazy when Ollie dug his elbow into my collar bone. I didn't say a word and yet the husband got pissed and yelled at me all the way home.

Ollie's much much better though the doc says he has to take it easy because if this happens again he'll need to be put down. (I don't think so)

So I can now breathe about Olllie but the husband's behavior is worse. He's ignoring me even more, just will not listen to anything I have to say but he has to tell me every last thing that crosses through his head until I can imagine myself throttling him. I am so sick of hearing the sound of his voice. I haven't said anything about it, why bother, he wouldn't listen anyway and have taken to keeping a list of everything that I do at work so that I do not have to repeat myself half a dozen times a day.

You know it's odd. If I'm around when he's on the phone he might tell someone what a gem I am and no sooner does he hang up then he orders me around as if he is some pasha sitting on a silk cushion. I was in the middle of something the other day when I was given an urgent task of looking up a phone number. In the phone book sitting out for the world to see. You see, looking up numbers or faxing items is beneath him. He has more important things to do but that seems to be sitting bullshitting with people on the phone and pretending he's some big shot. And he just keeps loading one thing after another on me acting like everything is a crises and a life actually depended on it. Hell this isn't brain surgery and if things have to be done so quickily then the old fart can get off his can and do it for himself.

As you can see disgruntled doesn't even begin to describe me lately. I suppose it's all my own fault. I shouldn't actually be able to do his job better than he does but I do, much better without breaking a sweat.

And to top it all off I'm in a major fibro flare and everything is hard for me. I transpose figures, I mishear and my latest is mis reading. I was in Family Dollar looking for dog bones and found a package of SOUP PADS. I wondered how you made soup from a pad looked closer and realised it read SOAP PADS. At the library I could have sworn they had a book on dead flower arranging (DRIED). So I have to be very careful with everything I type and the messages I take. Plus I hurt, every part of me but the bunged up toe is unbearable. On top of all of this the buffoon I married is struting around like he's cock of the walk. Sigh. Plus he's away again on friday and the office is all mine only I have to account for everything I do and explain it and explain it over and over again because the old fart won't listen.

Is it bed time yet? ---me---

I try hard to be good

Dear Peruser,
What an awful day, The Husband has been in a mood lately where he needs to put me down whenever we are around new clients and is very short with me the rest of the time. He has that tone of voice that sounds like he's adding the words "Dumb Shit" every time he finishes speaking even though he never actually says the words. Considering all he does is talk on the phone at work while I do the rest, he has no right. He can't even change the fax toner. Then at lunch with the face painting farm people it was shown that I talk too much and make people forget what they were going to say when in truth most of the time everyone just sat staring at each other. Still I take these things to heart.
We then took little dog Ollie to the vet. It's 95 degrees with 300% humidity and I get to hold Ollie who, somehow, manages to scale me as if I were some hot sweaty mountain, pulling an earring out of my ear as he went.
It wasn't good vet news. Ollies back legs are paralysed. No bruises, bumbs, breaks, nothing. It's nerve damage. Something that cannot be easily repaired. So now Ollie is on prednesone, and a muscle relaxer and is on mandatory cage rest. We take him back to the vet on Monday but by the look on the vet's face....sigh... we may be saying goodbye to Ollie.
Well we didn't have a cage so we had to go to Wal Mart and buy one. In the meantime the HUsband was again nasty to me, making me feel even more stupid then insisted on going with me so we could spend some time together. HUH? WHy would he want tp be with Stupid Woman.
So off to Wal Mart and then I park only to have some irate woman cuss me out as I got out of the car. Seems I stole her spot but she was beyond the spot with no signals so how was I to know.
That was it I had enough. I met her inthe next row flagged her down and told her that if she had used her signals I would have known her intentions. She claimed I KNEW what she wanted. I asked her how and then she got really nasty fn bitching me and all of that. Then I spotted the cross she had hanging from her rear view mirror. I looked her right into her righteous f mouthin face and asked her that she used that language with a cross A CROSS hanging in her car and she should be ashamed of herself.
I don't act like that but that woman, I will not lower myself to her level, was the last straw. The husband stared at me with eyes huge. I was on a roll and told turned to him and growled. "One word, just one word." The husband has behaved himself since and while I think I was justified to face that woman, I can't help think that I should just have let it go. But I may have to put my Ollie to sleep and with a heart rapidly breaking HOW CAN I be nice.
Then I took myself to AC Moore while Older son Ollie sat and bought myself a circle cutter that I wanted but couldn't decide if I wanted fiskars one or the making memories one and chose the mm one because I thought it would be easier on my aching hands (did I mention I have been in pain for weeks, and not just because of my bunged up toe) only it's a pain to use and I make ovals and not circles.
Even with central air I am so hot and humid you could actually wring me out.
Well the husband gave me tomorrow so I can play ICU with Ollie and I can only hope tomorrow will be better. Maybe I"ll be able to figure out how to actually make a circle with the circle thing. I certainly can't take it back. What would I say. I"m sorry, I have to return this. I'm an idiot and can't use it properly. NOpe I'll just have to live in the land of lopsided circles. ---me---

Poor baby

Dear Peruser
Little dog Ollie went from favoring his left hind leg to struggling to move his back end. I tried getting an appointment for him today but the earliest appointment I could get is for tomorrow at 3. I am so worried about my little boy. I just said to the husband the other day that the day Ollie crosses that Rainbow Bridge will be the day my heart will well and truely be broken. Keep your fingers crossed that all will be well. Thank god that we actually have the money for the vet.
Yet in the midst of this worry there is a bit of ridiculousness.
The husband and I had chinese for dinner and, as always, we cracked open our fortune cookies. I'm not a big fortune cookie fan but read the fortunes simply because I'm always looking for quotes for cards and such. Today's fortune was no keeper other than the ridiculousness of it all. My fortune read and I quote "Tastes Like Chicken". That was it. So there it is, my ancient Chinese wisdom for today. "Tastes Like Chicken" I guess that explains the meaning of life. ---me---

I shouldn't have

crowed about our sudden upswing because now there is something wrong with little dog Ollie and I'm gripped by fear. Rocco may be a wonder dog but Ollie holds my heart in his hairy little paws.

Little Flower GIve Me Power

Dear Peruser,
This may get a little complicated but, eventually I will get to the point. Only it'll probably be plunted like th epointy end of your favorite colored pencil but it will be there.
We have a client that I sort of adopted. The Husband thinks she's a pain and he "scares the hell out of" her. Her quote as you can see. In fact, there has been times when she has begged him not to be mean to her because she can't take it and will commit suicide. The Husband dismisses her as a scatterbrain but I understand. and he does scare the hell out of people. Anyway this client is in her sixties and was faced with losing her house. The only way she could save it was to declare bamkruptcy, the one where she pays off her debt. She's screwed up a couple of times and I have taken pity on her and accompanied her to court as moral support. Right now she's preparing to refinance her house so she can pay everyone off and still have equity in her house. She may even get a new used car out of it.
Ok so we were talking on the phone and I told her about the glass trick to find lost things. She told me about a mantra for success. "Little Flower Give Me Power". The Little Flower is a saint, Theresa of someplace or other. Theresa I should know from where because I went to seven years of elementary school called THE Shrine of THE Little Flower and heaven help you if you missed a single the.
Things got desperate last week. So desperate that the younger son's lawyer even offered to LEND us money to pay son's fine. We were running out fo food, the mortgages are late (even the ones on the investment property) the husband's car died, younger son had no food and no money to buy food so we scrounged in my freezer for food for him. It was dreadful.
So I "Little Flower Give Me Power"ed.
Geez I wish I knew about that sooner.
We got one new client last week and the Husband got all the back rents from his tenants plus got a new tenant for one of the houses.
We got payment for an over due invoice for someone,
Son didn't have to go to jail for a weekend or two.
We got two more appointments for clients this week.
I got approved for a new credit card with a balance higher than $300.
I got a personal loan out of nowhere that will pay all the outstandings till we can sell one of the houses.
The husbandmade a contact with a guy who will not only refer clients to us but investors as well because the guy has too many investors.
The son only had to see his probation officer once a month and not every week.
I was able to buy food and pay the son two paychecks. Of course we owe him three times that, which is why he had run out of money.
And now we have two more people who want to go with us but who haven't yet made an appointment.
The Little Flower has been working overtime.
And in cas eyou think we may not be grateful, the husband totals up the amount of money we make each month and sends 10% to Feed the Children. Sometimes it's as little as $20.00 but it's $20.00 and he hates to think of hungry children. So the more we make, the more the kids get.
Maybe just maybe I'll be able to relax for a bit.
Change of subject
What is it about Rocco the Wonder Dog and my underwear. It was creepy enough when I discovered that he has chewed out the crotch area out of every pair of mine he can find but today he heads out of the bedroom with a pair of pink panties flapping along behind him. He had a leg through a leg hole and came gallopping down the hall grinning. I suppose it's a good thing that he didn't go outside. Had those babies caught the wind, the poor dog would have been airborne in no time. THem panties are big girls let me tell you.
Little dog Ollie liked my underwear as well only he just wanted to take them out in the yard with him but had to satisfy himself with socks instead.
I wonder what kind of panties saints wore?
And on that wacked note, I shall close. ---me---

It gets worse

The son is on probation which means along with the classes that I have to take him to each week I now have to take him to his probation officer AND the husband's car is offically dead, the younger son's car is officially dead and now all we have left is one car with exhaust problems and absolutely no money. The mortgage is late and who knows what other bills. I don't know if I want to scream, kick something until my bruised toe falls off or go to bed and not get up again. I should have known it would end up like this. It's our anniversary jinx. We'll be married for 33 years tomorrow. I don't know how much more I can take. ---me---

I suppose it's how you look at it.

Dear Peruser,
We have to take younger son to court tomorrow for 8:45. Long story but let's just say now that he has no car nor license so we have to drive into the city to get him and then take him to court and then repeat the process.
Older son took younger son home this evening after a visit home and now the older son is broken down in the side of 95 and the HUsband is going to resuce him. Not something you want to do when you have to get up at the butt crack of dawn the next day. It's frustrating and aggrivating and, of course, I'm already stressed by our nonexisitant financial situation but there are things to be grateful for. I've called the tow truck and they will be there in 10 minutes. It's a local guy, we always call and this guy once saw Older son broken down on the side of the road... this was before cell phones and Older son was a new 16 year old driver... and the tow guy didn't hesitate but hooked him up and drove him home. The second good thing is that my car with its noisey tailpipe passed inspection today and the best thing of it all is that we would have taken the husband's car to court tomorrow and we would havebroken down and probably wouldn't have even made it to court... a definite no no. So even though I'm pulling my hair... just call me baldy... I know it could have been worse. Funny how our angels always look after us that way. Yeah yeah I know people would think that if our angels were really looking after us no one would have broken down but cars break down and, at least, this was convenient. I dread having to deal with the Husband when he comes home... he does not handle a crises well,,, but hopefully he'll just bluster a bit and then go to bed.
And on top of all of this I have to wear a dress tomorrow with pantyhose that will probably do its best to head south at the smallest opportunity. NOw I've gotten used to watching teenaged boys penguin waddle with the crotch of their jeans halfway to their knees but it is not a look an older lady with a bad toe and sleep deprived bags under her eyes should sport simply because her pantyhose want to escape.
What is it with pantyhose? They either refuse to rise above the knees or are so long you could pull them up over your head and tie a knot? Maybe if the guys who designed these things actually wore them, they'd fit.
Oh well. Gotta run. Towing guy can't find broken down car men and so the husband will be blustering even more. Such is life. I must remember that it could be worse it could be worse, it could be worse. ---me---

disappearing

Dear Peruser,
I feel myself shutting down and crawling into myself as I often do when troubles hit. I just need to ride this out till I am myself again. So till then. Take care of yourself.

Random Acts of Gravity

Dear Peruser,
I fell yesterday. I was heading out the door of my studio and down I went with a crash and a bang. The husband called in from the living room wanting to know what the noise was. I shouted back that I fell and then there was silence. I suppose the husband was thinking. I could almost see him with that squinting semi-vacant look of his as he ponders the ramifications of me falling. Meanwhile my big toe on my right foot was screaming at me. My head was smack against the door frame and a scrape on the BACK of my leg burned. Finally the husband's thinking was thought and he wanted to know if I wanted help. I'm wobbly at the best of times when joint refuse to unbend but was stubborn enough to think that if he didn't come to my resuce immediately, the hell with him. ANd then before I could answer I heard someone coming down the hallway. Husband? Nope, Rocco the Wonder Dog who raced to the doorway and stood staring at me his forehead wrinkled in concentration. THinking of it now, he looked a lot like the Husband does when he's figuring stuff out. Rocco looked at me and all I said is 'I can't get up' and the next thing I know he's under me somehow and I'm pushing myself up.
My toe hurts like hell and is as purple as an eggplant. I hobbled aroudn the office barefoot all day. My fingers hurt and my head and the scrape on the back of my leg is nearly black with bruise, both knees are scraped and bruised as well and the husband reminded me of something. Where I fell last night is the same spot where I fell off the ladder to the attic one Christmas season. I was halfway down that ladder when I suddenly swung outward as if pushed and then down because that damned gravity always has to work. So now the Husband thinks that there is "Something" in that spot. (cue twilight zone music) I think I've been telling him about the ghost shows I've been watching a bit too much. I figureit's just gravity's fault. After all, if it wasn't for gravity I could possibly actually fly like I do in my dreams.
Speaking of dreams it's time for bed. Sleep well and keep an eye open for that gravity thing. It's deadly. ---me---

Way too excited

Dear Peruser,
Excitement abounds! I discovered that the tree in the front of the house now contains a woodpecker/flicker/sapsucker nest complete with fuzzy squawklings without the distinctive red head of their kind. Why do I not know what they are? Each time I look them up in a bird book or on the internet I get a different name for them. Pileated Woodpecker is my favorite name for them. Sounds kind of important. I watched mom or maybe Dad (roflmao) feeding them and then the parent did their rat a tat tat thing on the tree and flew off to find more food. I wonder if the rat a tat was the whatever's form of a bedtime story. I love squawklings.
Last night I watched my favorite show to make fun of, Dead Famous. I don't know if you've ever seen this or not but there's this bald Irish/English woman who is a sceptic and an Wmerican guy with a tiny clump of hair clinging to his bottom lip in what I think he thinks passes for a beard but in reality it is only a chin wiggle. Anyhow they go about looking for famous dead people always managing to touch on the more famous places around the US while doing so. I mean, come on. They were looking for Jayne Mansfield and ended up at the Myrtles Plantation??!!! Talk about a stretch. What did Jayne do? Ride past there once and wave?
Nonetheless the show is a hoot though I do wish the bald chick would cover her head. Since most of this is filmed in the dark, between the eerie glow in her eyes and the gleem of her perfectly round bald head, she's like a moon moving about. Yeah yeah I admire her guts being on tv bald as a billard ball but cover that head, the glow is blinding me.
As for chin wiggle, he's always channeling someone or other which means he throws his head back, jiggles in his chair and then pushes out the words one by one. Now he never channels anyone famous and to tell you the truth, the people with him become possessed more often than he does. Even the skeptic though if she really is a skeptic how come she's afraid? Hmmm. Guess it makes for hilarious tv. I do have to mention that anytime something really cool happen, according to chin wiggle, he's either not filming or about to film so all we get is an occasional evp and an orb or two. Personally I like Ghost Hunters on Sci Fi better. They don't try to channell anyone and even try to debunk things. I just wish that the head guy would stop saying 'me and Grant' and go with the correct 'Grant and I' and must they call everyon DUDE? Still they've gotten more on tape than chin wiggle and Ms. Moon ever would.
Speaking of tv I keep seeing a commerical for the new documentary "Guests of the Ayatolla" about the American hostages in Iran about 20 plus years ago. Oldest son was just a baby when they hostages came home and the husband came home from work at the IRS to get Oldest son and I so we could wave at them as they rode by. So we bundled Oldest son, took his treats and the backpack he rose in and off we went. Surprisingly we got a good spot, not that the son knew what was going on. He was munching on breadsticks for his teething and getting crumbs in the
Husband's hair. There was a buzz in the crowd, the busses were coming and suddenly this tv camera guy elbows his way past everyone and stands right in front of us. Before we could open
our mouths to protest this cop showed upout of nowhere and told him to move. TV guy started to protest but the cop waved his hand at the crowd and us behind him and said "these people have been standing here waiting and you are in their way, MOVE'. Camera guy moved. God bless that cop, he could have ignored it all but he did what was right. I'm sure we thanked him.
And speaking of unlikely stars of the show. The husband and I were in DC for the bicentennial... remember that. God, that was before kids even.
We battled the crowds got ourselves a spot on the curb and prepared to watch. I am not a big parade fan, Sirens make my head hurt and unless the Oldest son is in the marching band I'm not interested. I tried to pretend that I wasn't bored mostly because the husband was so danged excited and then we hear something. It sounded like a murmur at first, almost like the sound of waves on a distant shore but then the sound rose and eventually you could hear cheers and applause. Well, we thought there was something really great coming down the street toward us, certainly the cheers were heading our way.
What had to be the 10th horseback group came our way and the cheers followed in thier wake. I'm not a fan of horses or cowboys and wondered why everyone was so excited to see horses. And then, we saw him. The star of the show.
He was probably in his teens, skinny as all get out and wearing simple jeans and a t-shirt. He was a black kid with close cropped hair and dark gleeming skin that made his teeth seem even whiter as he grinned at the people. He had what I first thought was a baton that he swung a twirled and then I saw the shovel in his other hand and realised the baton was in reality a poop scoop and it was his job to scoop horse poop all along the parade route. He was having the time of his life and mugging for the crowds. What a juxtaposition of those well groomed blond palominos and their riders decked out in their best and the black kid scooping poop. Truthfully, he is the only thing I remember clearly about the whole parade. He deserved every cheer and applause he got. He turned a stinky smelling job into something important and he was the star of the show. Good for him.
Well I've rambled on too much today. Will write soon. Love. ---me---

I think he needs a keeper

Dear Peruser
The Husband is at it again. He wanted to open a second business account at his bank and when he tried to give them his ein number (employer Identification number) the manager told him that it didn't match the one on file. She wrote down the number that she had in her records and handed it to him and he brought it home a mumbling and a grumbling. All weekend I had to listen to how the bank screwed up or had IRS screwed up and can he use it to his benefit but no he can't and he has to get this straightened out and he has to call the department of assessment and taxation and ask them what his ein number is and maybe I should do the calling because he has so many more important things to do, like telling bad lawyer jokes and looking for things right under his nose. Well, by this morning I was so sick of hearing it I wanted toscream. So the whole litany started and I got on the internet to see if I could find th enumber on line. Well, to make a long story short, he then couldn't find the number so I had to call the bank, he was doing important things like blowing his nose and going to the bathroom, and talk to the manager and ask for the wrong ein number again.
I get the manager and explain what I want. There is an & in the company name and so I told her it was an ambersand. First she thought I was saying Amberson and the Anderson and so I finally had to describe what I was talking about. So finally we get all of that taken care of and she gives me the ein number that they have for the company account. I write the number down take a look at it and nearly PLOTZ. Can we say SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER. It was his social security number. Good Lord. I think I'd be better off bringing one of the dogs to work with me. It's a wonder this man can put his underwear on without written instructions. ---me---

Manners

Dear Peruser,
I've always insisted in manners in my family. When the sons were young, I made sure they held doors, said thank you and the like. I refused to accept snotty remarks or eye rolling where I could see it and even that tone of voice that announces to the world that you are the dumbest person in the world. Nor did we ever call each other names. We treated each other with respect. After all if youcan be polite to strangers and friends it should carry over into the home.
Now this wasn't just a rule for the sons but for the husband and I as well. The husband didn't always follow through. He thinks when he argues he needs to tear you down and crumple you up, but he learned and hasn't done that in some time. Why am I telling you this? Wait. I have a story.
Sundays are do your own thing day, whether it be crafts or chores or naps or veging in front of the tv. The husband was mowing the yard. I was in the craft room. Older son was in his room. I came out of my room to get a soda and little dog Ollie was all excited to see me. He ran to me and then away and then to me and then away. If he were Lassie, I would have guessed that Timmy had fallen down a well and the barn was on fire. He did this all of the way into the kitchen and there he ran up to a pancake that was laying on the floor, touched it with his nose, ran back to me, touched me with his nose and then back to the pancake.
Ollie wanted the pancake but needed my permission first. AS soon as I told him he could have it, he grabbed it and went to his pillow. Geez my dog is more polite than most of the people I run across. I can't take credit for Ollie's manners. Our departed Mutley was the one who taught Ollie that. When we brought Mutley home from the rescue place, he didn't come into the house until he was invited nor did he jump onto the couch until we told him it was ok. In fact, if you were sitting on the floor with a plate of food and laid it on the rug, he wouldn't touch it if there was a fork on the plate. Take the fork and Mutley knew it was his. I still miss my big old Mutley. I think I will always missmy big old Mutley. Training Rocco would have been a heck of a lot easier if I had had Mutley to do it. Oh well.
Rocco the Wonder Dog is learning his manners as well though it seems to be taking him forever. At least he doesn't steal food. That was the first thing I taught him. Right now, he's out in the yard checking to see if we were invaded during the night. He kept us safe so far from a sheet that blew into the yard and the pool filter that has been moved from it's regular place, and birds had better not set one foot onto our property. William the ground hog is allowed unless one of Rocco's people should come out of the house, then it's chasing William back into the bamboo. As for William... he's HUGE bigger than little dog Ollie but boy can he hustle.
So that's what's up with me, mannerly dogs and gigantic ground hogs. Wonder if I can find a ground hog saddle and ride william to work. Later gator. ---me---