Good-Bye Coffee, Yeah Right

Good-bye coffee.

Good-bye cream.

Good-bye old habits and pipe dreams.

Good-bye heartache.

Good-bye losses.

Good-bye crutches and sour sauces.

Good-bye Eddie 

Good-bye Dee. 

I surrender; I am free.

You Pitch, I Catch Your Grief

You built this wall in the space between us, 

You brought it forth from your own mind and erected it in the center of our reality. 

You gave it a persona and a hair cut.

You named her Love and bought her a one-way ticket,

But you were unaware that you were courting Fear. 

None the wiser that you were kissing Emptiness.

You necked Regret.

You bedded Longing. 

Now you turn to me with your pain. 

You send out your S.O.S. 

Pulse code, through your heartbeat. 

You mocked me once for being weak. 

Funny, how you are now the same as I once was. 

Funny, how I do not mock your display of weakness. 

You mourn, you search, you grieve.

This separation is only an illusion, yet you believe the lies it tells. 

The truth is eternal.

The truth is wholeness. 

I am not missing from you:

Look inside and you will find me.

Go within and hold me there.

The Harvest: Reaping What You've Sewn

I was given this cactus by my friend, Hilary, when she downsized to a camper and decided to travel for a bit. She got rid of a lot of personal belongings; I also got two cockatiels, a gay pair of finches and a cute little corner stand. Gay, as in two males that were in love and lived in a house-shaped cage. Cute, as in it is small and decorate. Stuff. Stuff stuff stuff. It seems to be everywhere.

Stuff keeps popping up but it's only what you put there. You reap what you sew. You get back what you put forth. All the clichés. All of them. It really is all your fault. If you sew negative thought seeds, you will reap a negative harvest. What kind of seeds did you drop? This cactus is apparently a Harvest cactus? It just couldn't wait until Christmas. I'm surprised it was happy enough to bloom at all. It started right in the height of our kitchen remodel, among the chaos. It made me muse a bit. It's a good sign. 

Shortly after this started to bloom I noticed that one of my small Geraniums in the bedroom is actually blooming as well! Amid the mess and neglect! A beautiful, delicate pink flower. Imagine. Everything in this house is suffering; this is a bad time of year. I'm just finally getting stuff situated better and it is STILL a mess. I've neglected everything the last month and still they are finding it in themselves to bloom. 

These flowers are me. They give me hope. They are determined, perhaps a bit stubborn, and Hella hardy. They seem unaware of the chaos they bloom in...that's how I want to be. Oblivious to the mess, set on flowering. That's what you get when you take care of a plant, thought, idea, heart...it will sprout, grow, and bloom if it is tended to, even through a remodeling. The harvest will come. If you water the cactus, it will bloom when the conditions are right. It will make its own occasion.

Buster Buddy Goes to Town

On Monday, I noticed Buster was acting drastically different than he was just the day before. He was not jumping up when he normally would be, he was walking gingerly with his back arched. He would stand and stair at nothing for long periods of time when he actually did get up, and was obviously having problems sitting down and turning around. His back legs were giving out on him at times and he had his ears back and his sad face on like he was in pain. Celie noted how he was just standing in the dining room like he couldn't get past the chair beside him, "Awww, poor Butter!" she said, like she knew he wasn't right as he was just standing there. For months, something in me has been worried about Lyme disease, mostly with Celie, but I'd thought there were a few times Buster seemed off. As soon as he was weird Monday, I knew my instincts had probably been picking up on it the whole time, even though he was showing no signs and I thought I was just crazy. After getting Celie ready and out the door, I called the vet while she was at preschool and was grateful they could get him in that same day!

Buster was hilarious going up the interstate, in between solemn open window sniffing, he just sat there staring at the road ahead, calmly, like a pro traveller. He seemed to be deep in thought. What was he thinking? He looked like an old man. Most times I think he seems far wiser than I. Buster is 7 now, he is a boxer mix, he is stubborn, goofy, playful, annoyingly loving, and the best dog I have EVER had. EVER. He is so human in his emotions and expressions. I remember my sister, Ali, laughing at me when I would have full conversations with him...because he totally talks to you, guys!! He was awesome years before Celie came around, but has proved himself to be the best kid dog ever, tolerating dress up and other childhood chaos. He is so good with her, it amazes me. Celie tells me that Buster is her dog now, all the time. She also tells me, "I love Butter more than you and dad, but I still love you, I just love Butter more!" Needless to say, she would be lost without her pal, Buster. 

After a physical exam, a urinalysis and a blood test, the results came back and our poor Butter Wutter does, indeed, have Lyme disease, as well as anaplasmosis, the less heard of but almost as common tick born illness, AND a bladder infection!! No wonder the poor guy was feeling rough. So, now he has two different antibiotics to take, one twice a day for his bladder infection for 7 days and then another for the Lyme and anaplasmosis that he will take for 28 days. Hopefully the antibiotics get him feeling more like his old self again. I am getting a glimpse into old age as he hobbles around and sleeps more. I hate seeing his legs give out but am grateful he had such a bad morning Monday so we took him in. The Susquehanna Veterinary Clinic was great! Everyone was wonderful and I am hopeful that he will soon be on the mend. I am grateful. We want our Buster Buddy around for as long as possible!

Take Anything, But the Kitchen Sink

This week has been surreal, like being down the rabbit hole, or in Wonderland, where everything is opposite or backwards? I went to get a clean bowl to get cereal for Celie this morning. I got it out of a basket under a pile of clothes on her bed. I also had to squeeze past a piano in the hallway to get there. I have been using paper towels as coffee filters just because I can't locate them? I can't really use the countertops yet but am. Everything is everywhere! Shit's all over the place!

We had a few setbacks and because of that couldn't finish up the kitchen to a suitable degree before Joey had to return to work for the week. I don't know what's worse, having no kitchen sink or having all of the appliances in the living room? No...no, I know. It's having no kitchen sink. Talk about inconvenient. You don't realize how central that is to the kitchen until it's gone! I can't cook, can't even get a glass of water? Can't easily make coffee or wash hands or things...that are constantly getting dirty. This place is starting to get gross. I need to take a hot soapy bucket to the place and wipe everything down, but I'm gonna have to walk out the back door and around the house with my bucket because there is a piano in my hallway. I'm pretty grateful we actually have a back door? The piano has been more of an obstacle this week, although I still managed to play it a little, which is funny and a little pathetic. Luckily I got all of the tiling finished and if I finish up the grout here before trick or treat time, which is my goal, Joey can put in the sink when he gets home...or tomorrow, rather. It's Halloween! It's probably not happening tonight. 

So, we have been living off of cereal and sandwiches. It works. My dirty dishes are in the tub. The chaos has left me with the don't-give-a-shits. I've just been going back and forth between playing the guitar and mindlessly attempting to make progress, which is also pathetic. This too shall pass. It's like camping in your house, or something? I don't know. I am just watching The Great Pumpkin with Celie and having my last cup of paper towel coffee. Another life lesson brought to you by remodeling projects: Learn to embrace and work around the chaos. It's going to be awesome when it's all said and done.

Remodeling the Heart of the Home

I have never in my life tiled anything before, so I don't exactly know why Joey and I have wanted to do it? Or, was it me? I wanted to do it? Regardless, I find myself tiling our kitchen countertop. It was actually quite fun. My DIY part loved the project! Deep down we love remodeling; it's exciting and fun! It's a new take on an old thing. Deep down we hate remodeling; it's hell! It's where marriages go to die! I jest, but seriously, you want to test the strength of your marriage, remodel a room together...preferably a bathroom or kitchen. The more walls you need to tear down the better, and the grosser the subsurface, the better the results! This is our last room in this place; we have remodeled each and every other room together! It's down to the heart of the home. If you can survive remodeling together, especially in a trailer where nothing is square and nothing ever lines up, I believe your marriage is golden. 

I came back from my Memphis trip and fell right into a remodeling project. Joey already did the entire ceiling of the dining room and kitchen in wainscoting and moved and changed the light fixtures while I was away. What a guy! The top cabinets were ripped out. I made it back in time for the removal of the infamous island and the unearthing of the before time flooring. We took three eras off of the floor, and had to sledgehammer the island out. It almost seemed like sacrelige at the time, but it was the only way to get the beast out! And I had already planned to salvage and save the heavy HEAVY countertop to use as the top of a badass work bench for me...someday. So, even if it's ten years from now, I will see that island again! The island has seen some great times, and has been used for everything from feasting, partying, card games and dice, to sewing, printing, painting, and piercing. But, alas, an oversized island in your kitchen can eventually be a setback. No man is an island! Is this a metaphor?

In dreams, they say that houses represent your psyche or self and that the different rooms are aspects or parts of your self. They also say that the kitchen is the heart of the home. I think it's fitting that this is all happening right along with my Memphis trip. I feel I had a mini rebirth! I came back inspired and in love...right into this mess...which isn't without it's own metaphor. A change of heart is in store; no more islands in my center! I am remodeling my soul, let's use some tile! Let's put all of the pieces together like a puzzle. Let's hold it down with mortar, and fill in the cracks with grout. Smooth it off and let it set...this heart is good as new. 

Memphis or Bust: Pt. 4

We made it safely to Memphis! 13 plus hours, 900 plus miles...my pelvis aches, Elvis awaits! We are down at the end of Lonely Street...at Heartbreak Hotel!! I am off of the road and in my comfy pajamas, laying in bed under a huge picture of the King. Life is good. It was a beautiful ride!

Finished up the trip listening to some Tom Petty Radio on Pandora, I checked the phone and it was 11:11, even though the car said it was after midnight? I didn't realize we would be doing that; I've never driven through a  time zone before. So, we actually made a huge journey back in time today! Quite the accomplishment.