Green Jean Granny

So here we sit, 2 days away from everything being cut off and it’s steve’s day to work at his brother’s. I need a paper from his brother as well, saying that Steve makes approximately $360 a month mowing grass so we can continue to get our food stamps and medicaid. None of which goes anywhwere except for pet food and gas and utilities. It sucks. He does what he can and it’s never enough. He was supposed to contact the people at Reach about a job. He waited until 11am to call and everything went into a full voicemail. THEN, he began working on the Jimmy. He has no skills whatsoever working on cars. Geoffrey can’t tie his shoes, let alone help help with that. Steve’s been cussing for almost 3 hrs and I’m not able to do what needs to be done for him. Now the Jimmy is taken apart and he’s pissed at me for asking why he didn’t wait till tomorrow.

How am I supposed to feel that this man is TRYING? He has no sense of anything. No timing. No common sense. I don’t want to have to sit here without electricity, watch our food go bad, loose my bid at SSI, and have to come up with deposits as well to have things turned back on. I try not to be angry, but I am fucking angry! He’s in the shower now so maybe he got it put back together. Who knows. He’ll make some nasty comment to me on his way down and out if it’s done. I could go to the grocery store today but we only have one car.

I’m also sick running a fever with a nasty cough. I guess it’s my turn.

Sunday’s my birthday. I might as well stop counting as much as anyone cares. That’s not fair. I’ll have lots of online wishes and I appreciate them. No one here will even mention it.

Oh well. I’m making a hat. I have to pee. Nothing’s new.

The month is slipping by fast. Here’s another holiday, and birthday coming that we won’t be keeping.

The new dog is a wonderful fella, but we can’t keep him because we can’t feed him. I hate it. Steve really, really likes him. Already he’s not having accidents in the house. He taps the bells with his nose to go out. He understands so many commands. I have never worked with such a smart dog – bar none. I’m sure he’s lab and something. I love his coloring. he uses his mouth like hands. He crosses his front feet and relaxes. It’s so cute. He is fearful of small rooms. You can’t pull him into a bathroom to save your life. I don’t blame him. Jackie is getting better around him, but his fear level is BIG. He hasn’t gotten over being attacked. We need to let Rory go – we may not be able to. There is only one way he can stay.

Steve has to go get a job this week – he says he’s going to throw those damned Reach papers. I can roll them, I can’t throw them or ride with him. No movement in that direction yet. He hasn’t paid on his fine (he could be arrested). Utility bills are due NOW with cut off dates of the 21st. Nothing is paid. Food is thin. Last night we had 4 freezer burned empanadas that Steve fried. He opened a can of tomatoes, added garlic salt and diced jalapenos to make salsa. We had 1 tsp sour cream on the plates, and he heated all the tiny bits of bagged vegetables left in open bags – a bit of cauliflower and broccoli, spinach, lima beans – mixed together. We had about 2/3 cup each. G had 2 empanadas, no veges, and a bowl of cereal with the last of the milk. 5 more days to go. We have cheese, eggs, flour, instant milk, cream of wheat, oats – beans, rice. We won’t like everything particularly, but we have food. Dinner last night was surprisingly yummy. I think I’ll make chicken soup tonight and I bet no one complains. We can do pancakes, biscuits and gravy and yes, it’s depression gravy but at least it’s something… I can do cooked cabbage from the garden and there is kale galore.

I’m worried about the utilities and the house payment. They came through with a modified mortgage for us and it’s 376.96 a month everything included. We can’t live anyplace for less than that. Steve has to pull this one out his ass. If he doesn’t, I decided we are leaving. I don’t know how to stick to that, but my car takes $300 to repair and we need a small used trailer with appliances. I will have to talk to all my kids about helping me somehow. They have always said they will help with a final solution – after this month, we have to prove stuff for our food stamps and Medicaid to continue. If they don’t, for whatever reason, meds and food could stop and that would be awful. I can’t even think about it. I will gather all the receipts I can and see if it’s enough. I have until the 21st to do THAT, too. Everything comes due at once – always.

Other than that, what is going on? Enjoying my knitting, my kids, my animals, my grands, my garden. We’re pretty housebound. Can’t afford gas money. We have $2.36 to our names. Um, yeah (as Taryn would say) that’s about it. Are we ok? I don’t know…are we? I guess we are. Oh except for G’s toe. Still infected after a round of antibiotics.
Jackie just came downstairs, walked past Rory, greeted me (yay! huge step!) trotted across the room and asked to go out. First time he’s barked to come back in too. Now he’s eaten, and CHOSEN to come lay at my feet even though Rory is on the other side of me! This is awesome. Just a tiny bit of excess spit too. Really awesome! I know, I’m too focused on the dogs, but damn, my life is pretty simple. Not much else to focus on… bird watching, meditation, waiting for disability determination, and Dr Who. Boring shit. I thought today was Saturday, sue me. Another Knitday.

finally!

The old fridge is in the house. The new one in resting and emptied. The crying, whining, frazzled monster is now in the bed. Geoffrey and I finished up transfering food from freezer to freezer. He asked where I wantedd my cabinet moved, I told him, and he put it in the shed. NOT where I said to put it. Ah well, it can stay there until my husband changes back from his monster form into the creepy man we all know and love. lol Geoffrey was singing Hit the road Jack, and don’t ya come back no more no more no more, hit the road Jack and don’t you come back no more! lol Steve didn’t get the joke, but the song had the dog trying to get us, and Geoffrey laughing, and me and him sharing a joke…it was pretty funny. We finally chased Steve up to bed and while it’s hot as hell in here, it’s calm and peaceful.

Well shit…my just now 2 yr old fridge seems to have gone out. The fridge part isn’t cooling at all. Steve called the 800 number and they offered us an extended waranty for $275 or they will come fix it for a $75 service call plus parts and the parts can run as much as $400. This when we are trying to come up with $377 to make a house payment. I swear things just never ease up.

I talked to the Dr about my nasties that Steve keeps complaining about, and she felt he was objecting to my regaining my voice which is what I thought…he doesn’t like me having opinions and I’ve been quiet for a long, long, time. We cut the muscle relaxer in half to see if that won’t help the sleepies I fight in the mornings and afternoons. It seems to. I find myself thinking things like ‘shave, cut your fucking hair, get away from me.’ I am not wanting sex when he hasn’t showered for me and it’s 4 freaking a.m. Maybe I am a bitch. I can’t suggest anything without pissing him off. I don’t feel the same as I did back when I was in my 40’s – women hit their sexual peak right before menopause – and I’m on the down side. It is what it is. When I wanted it, he wasn’t interested and left me to cry more nights than not. Now that I don’t, he’s all offended. It’s just show. I don’t feel loved. Just a hug or tender word would go so far – instead it’s like a freaking competition as to who hurts worse and who’s more capable. It annoys the hell out of me to have everything I say applied as if I’m attacking him. I barely let myself speak to avoid the fight. Blah. I had made a decision that if he doesn’t pull together the payments and save the house – GET A JOB – I was going to VA. That’s out now, so I’ll just keep dealing with the bed I made. I won’t be the first woman to carry on. We’ll be doing our best to stay here until Geoffrey graduates then help him get into college. Steve talks like we’ll stay together, sell the house and move to NC. I guess that’s fine.

I’m knitting as always. I have a couple things to add to my Etsy Store, and a few to donate. It’s hard to know what to do when everything’s made from stash. Maybe toys will be popular.

Anyway…it’s 9:30am and Steve’s just gone back to bed. I guess he doen’t plan on working much today. He’s got bronchitis to be fair, but if he’s going, it should be early, not late. Here I go again, picking…picking, picking. It’s all I do these days.

Everything has settled down. Steve and I aren’t splitting up. The world’s still turning. mama’s still alive. The kids are all ok. G’s out on his summer break.

The House payment was lowered to $376.96 and will become a permanent modification if we can make the payments for 3 months in a row. Steve is excited. I wasn’t… Negative Nellie as my friend Jody is want to say, lifted her head. It’s still $400 on top of $400 we don’t have for utilities, Unless he gets a job – there isn’t going to be any difference because we have no money to live on. The truck has blown 2 tires in the past month. We are riding on a donut tire now and can’t find a used tire anyplace. It will take us another week to be able to buy a new tire. Steve thinks he can take from his pension money and buy the tire – but he won’t hear that the pension money is 100% tapped and he can’t use it. I have to protect our only bank account. I have to. Everything coming out is an automatic payment – insurance, taxes, credit card, Fax service, MS Office program for G, Netflix, Life Insurance, phone too now… We hit the month at a deficit and that makes a difference. I wish he’d listen without getting so mad and acting like I change things from month to month. I could wipe out about $45 – still not enough for a new tire.

Sometimes I wish I knew what to do – shut up, make him happy – let him have the checking account – then I know I can’t… It’s in my name and I don’t dare. He can open his own and have his pension moved to it – fine by me – move his tax bill and utilities there too – I’ll cancel the little bills. Put my 2 checks in each month and be fine. That damned Dell credit card kills me – but it is what it is. Anyway. I’m tired of worrying about it.

The garden is looking good. I want to go check the seeds I planted. They were old, so I hope something comes up.

I’m finishing a hat today. I’ll start a knitted toy. I think I’ll make another cat too.

She’s done it again, all the way from across the world. On her Facebook page is her public apology to her kids, right?

so everyone gets the message she’s dying…not one of us responded in a nasty way. We were all concerned, sent her notes, etc. I asked her to please check in as soon as possible because we are worried and Kim scared us all to death telling us she was dying and could already be dead. No one wants that.

Seriously, I expected a tiny note saying she was sorry she’d worried us – something showing a little love – instead she posted this -” If you can’t give someone roses while they are living, don’t cry when they die. No time for them when they are still around…if you cared you would not neglect/reject them. Don’t waste your tears when they die…admit you didn’t really care anyway.”

I have so had it with all the manipulation. Andrea felt slapped in the face. No efforts anyone ever makes are acknowledged, she just does the public display so she looks like a fucking martyr. Steve gets so mad at me because I get drawn into this shit. How am I supossed to feel? My sister Kim texts with how she can’t loose Mama, she’s her best friend, they skype and email every day – I asked mama to email with me, take our relationship off of Facebook because we always end up fighting and she said no, she couldn’t afford to write or email. FINE. She Skypes with Andrea’s girls, but has NEVER skyped with me or mine – EVER. She won’t skype with Andrea or Chris either. It’s all this arrogant show. I wish I could say the rest of this and have it come out right – she loves black people. She shows off pictures of Chris’s son as her black grandbaby. In our family, you either have to to be dark skinned, or perfectly blonde and blueeyed to be worth anything. It’s how she’s always been. We feel this divide and it hurts us as her children. It’s not a secret – it’s so freaking blatant I could scream. We could all scream – except her 2 blonde kids and her 2 mixed blood grands. Goddamn it hurts.

So she’s on an oxygen tank, she’s not doing well, Her heart and kidneys are failing, but she’s home. I don’t know anything else. I appreciate all the prayers and thoughts and energy. It meant alot to ME. Now I’m blocking her. It was better when her account was deactivated.

Is there a planet alignment that says asshole parents raise your heads RIGHT NOW? I don’t want to know this stuff. I know she’ll die soon. I know she’ll die in Africa. I know she doesn’t think I’m good enough to live – and It’s not gonna be any different no matter what I say or do and there is nothing I can say that hasn’t been said. So piss on it.

I want to love her and let things go, but she just doesn’t make it possible. So I will release her to her God and go live my life. I am sure the drama will creep in again…but I am not going to open the door to it. NO.

I woke up in so much pain and with such stiffness – stress kills me and she’s the QUEEN of it.

I was left hanging for hours expecting Steve to be home after trivia. He can’t break away. I’m not going with him. It’s not too much effort pain wise, it’s too much effort emotionally because he won’t ever take me home when it’s over. He has to be the last to leave and he blames every wrong answer on me. I am angry at him. When he comes home, he complaines about everybody and how he hates it but he won’t ever say no and he goes every night he’s not working at Don’s. He talked all morning about it and I tried to tell him again – and ended up yelled at AGAIN. He goes on about not wanting to upset Hoss because he’ll be dead in a year or two. I told him Steve Hoss doesn’t care about that. Why does HE care about Hoss’s future when he won’t even discuss ours with me? Again, I got yelled at. I don’t not go because of the Fibro, I don’t go because of him, because I don’t choose to ride in silence and pretend everything is fine. I don’t want to hear the gossip about the trivia people. I am angry that they keep my husband away. I am sick of being blamed and yelled at and ignored. A forced kiss that I don’t want doesn’t fix things when the rest of the time I am nothing.

One of these days, his yelling at me is NOT going to shut me up.

http://blindfoldedoptimist.wordpress.com/2013/04/21/is-it-me/