The Lights Are On...

Old abandoned homes remain one of my favorite things.

The lights are on - but ain't nobody home.

I bet that's what y'all have been thinkin' up around here.

I'm home.

Sort of.

I have the shingles.  True story.  Found out Wednesday - caught them SUPER early, so I think I may live.  

: -)

Last night a big hunk of an upper molar fell off.

I'm starting to wonder if I should just put myself into a medically induced coma until next year to avoid anymore ailments.

I know in my knower that there is a lesson to be learned in all of this. 

 What it is - well, I think it's just coming to light.

You know - I've just been restless since Aaron left a year ago.  I find my days lacking purpose at times, and I'm just not ok with that.  I'm not ok with spending myself on myself.

I've become a whiney blogger, and that's not ok either, so I refrain from blogging.

SO many people are going through much rougher stuff than my little summer of discomfort.

And therein I believe lies most of my problem.  I can't seem to stand discomfort.  I eat over it, I shop over it, I 'get busy' over it. I look for a job to quiet it.  I don't sit with it and let it teach me it's lesson.

And therefore, I never learn the lesson, or hear it's voice of wisdom.

Rinse and repeat sisters.

I know that I still compare myself to other people too much and all the wonderful things that they are doing and making and achieving, and I'm all like 'should I throw out this old blue paint?' as I work on decluttering this old place, or wonder if I should make the Chicken Tikka Masala or the Pakistani Kima for dinner.

I feel half hearted about everything.

I think I'm just tired, and that's ok.  It's ok to let life pass on sometimes while you just watch.  It's ok to watch all of your friends doing things that you've always wanted to do - going fabulous places while you sit - laughing, when you feel like smirking. 

It's ok.

Life ain't no race, and if it is - I never got a bib number.

:-)

So for now, I'm going to sit with that discomfort, and hear what it has to say.

I so hope it tells me to have some cheesecake.

Or bacon.

Amen.

The Walls Talked

Sometimes things happen in my life that are almost too good to be true.

Bacon is one - 

Clarence "Buddy" and Marilyn are another.

A while ago, more than a month - we noticed a pick up truck driving slowly back and forth in front of our house.  This isn't much of an odd occurrence, it happens often, and makes me think that I need to stop dashing around the house nude with all of these windows.

The pick up truck finally pulled in the driveway, and I just assumed that they were honey customers.

It was then that this man told me "My grandfather built this house."

When he found out how nice I was : -) and excited to meet him, he called his wife Marilyn out of the truck.

I cannot begin to tell you how I love these two.  They stayed a good hour, telling us all about the house, how he was born here, upstairs in 1927.  They also told us all about how they met, and so much about their lives.  They felt like family by the time they left.  I may or may not have traumatized them a little, as you know how exuberant I can get at times.  I think at one point I asked them if they would adopt me.

They only have one daughter, and I think that they need at least one more.

Buddy and Marilyn are in their 80's.

They are so spry, full of life and seem totally smitten with each other.  You should have seen the way she looked at him as he told his stories.  It was like the first time she'd ever heard them.

We hugged, I gave them my phone number - told them to please come back for supper so that I could hear more of their stories.

You just never know - I didn't know if they'd ever come back.

But they did.  They phoned the other day and came out.

This time they stayed three hours.

I'm officially in love with them.

They brought photos and stories.

It was all a bit overwhelming for me, and you know how I've been lately - so of course there were tears.

Buddy cried a little too.  He said how nice it was to see someone in the house taking care of it, and that loved it so.

I was getting so confused about who was who, and trying to piece the puzzle together.

I finally got it straight.

I won't bore you with all of those details, but here are the photos, and I'll share my thoughts at the end.

Mathias Weis - built this house in 1869 when he was 21 years old.

He married Elizabeth Pinter, from Germany in 1880.  They told me she was a really crabby woman, but after I read their family history - she has every right to be - this is her son Matthew.

This photo totally haunts me.  It's so crazy to see the house like this, original brick.  To think those are the very windows I look out everyday.  Now, when I look out the window, I think of this photo.  The woman bent over is Mathias and Elizabeth's daughter Anna.  I've thought of her so much since seeing these photos.

Anna and her father Mathias (man that built the house)

Is it me, or does this dog seem like a handful?
  Every photo that it's in, the people seem to be trying to hold on to it!

Mathias and his daughter Anna (Clarence's mother).  Notice the awesome log structure attached to the barn - how I wish it were all still here.

I have to be honest and say that seeing these photos and hearing the history have really affected me in a very unexpected way.  It seems important for some reason.  Perhaps if I myself hadn't been in such an emotionally fragile state for the last month, it wouldn't have been so.

I've always wondered about the people that lived here before, and had always assumed that people had surely been born and died here, but now I know.

Thinking and knowing are two different things.

Elizabeth Mathias gave birth to 8 children here.  

I can't even imagine two children in the house, let alone 8.  10 living in this little house?

Wow.

Her first born died at the age of 21.

She had a seven year old daughter die here in 1901.

In 1885, two of her children died within two days of each other - one at three years old, the other at one.

I'm assuming it was an influenza outbreak.

It's brought a sobering feeling to the house for me - this house that has always felt like nothing but happy.

I find myself now wondering what room it was that her babies were lying sick.

I find myself wondering how in the world someone could overcome the grief of losing half her children.

If you've read my blog for any length of time, you know that I love this house, and feel that it's almost an entity in and of itself.  I felt that I was born to live here, and I have no plan on leaving it - unless it's feet first.

Unless of course you ask me in May, and then I'm out condo shopping because the initial yard work is overwhelming.

: -)

If you want to see photos of the house when we got it, click on the link to the right under 'labels' and read 'This Old House'.

I'll end by saying this.

Y'all know I've had a really hard summer.

For my usually non eventful life - it was hard - compared to the things other people have gone through, and are going through - it's silliness.

I love my problems, I do.  I'll take mine back at the end of the day when I think of what other's are going through.

Meeting Clarence and Marilyn, and learning about the house and those that have lived and loved here before I found the old place - well, it's girded me with an incredibly feeling of strength and gratitude.

A home is built in 1869.

It's nearly falling down in 1988.

We came.

We saw.

We conquered.

We loved it back to life - and that love was with hammers, nails, paint, sweat, and at times blood.

And now it stands strong again, and beautiful.

To me - it's such a testimony of love - of hard work - of perseverance.

Nothing is a lost cause.

No one.

I believe that with enough hammering, love, sweat and perseverance anything that is broken can be restored.

I love my home, and those who live in it.

I hope you feel the same about yours.

Love is All Around

Thank you ever so much for your comments, emails and concern.

It has truly made the difference this week.

Why is it so easy to hide in the closet, hurting, alone - when it's SO nice to be loved and cared for?

I haven't figured that out.

Fear?

Perhaps.

I'm going back after I post this blog post, and I'm going to answer your comments, in the comments.

I'm starting to feel a bit better, and I'm most certain it's because I don't feel alone anymore,

 or I don't feel like I have to fake it until I make it.

There IS strength in weakness.

I'm not feeling terribly sad anymore, but still so emotionally raw.

I cry now because I'm grateful.

I cry because I think of Aaron, and I think he's the most beautiful, brave boy I know.

I cry because I know I'm loved.

I cry because I think my friends are beautiful people.

I cry because the fields are ablaze right now, and it's so beautiful to behold.

It's good core work, all of this crying.

Too bad I've been eating meals as if they were my last lately!

It hurts to make a fist.

I don't know how y'all eat processed food.

I'm feeling so bloated and inflammed.

There are such glimmers of hope - I see bits of the old Jayme coming back, but in a much more 'new and improved' way.  I seriously don't feel that I need to work myself to death anymore.  I'm really over that.  I'm over the fact that the house isn't perfect, and I don't care if anyone sees the cobwebs or dead ladybugs anymore.  I feel that I've come to know my limitations, and I'm starting to realize that it's much more fun to sit at Starbucks with tea and a book than it is to stress over the minutia of a life of perfectionism.  

I'm living gloriously in the moment, I'm being kind to me - and sisters, it's feeling pretty flipping good.

I am enough, I have enough and I do enough.

I started revamping the mailbox garden and it feels good.  

Want to cleanse your soul?  Get your hands dirty.

And best of all - Clarence and Marilyn stopped by yesterday for a three hour visit.  Clarence is the 86 year old grandson of the man, Mathias Weis, that built this house.

He gave me photos of his grandfather, and family - standing here in front of the house.  I can't wait to share them with you - and share the story of the house, what I know thus far.  I've always said 'if these walls could talk' - and by golly - they done did.

Thank you again - I find it funny how often I feel like George Bailey from "It's a Wonderful Life' - when he realizes how loved he is at the end, and what a beautiful life he does have.

I'm believing that it's the payoff of living life vulnerable and open.

Hurts like a mother sometimes, but in the end?

Worth it.

I'm going to make it after all.

Maybe I Needed to Be Broken

You guys have been so good to me.

I wanted to share what's been going on - since I've been so quiet.

First - do you realize Aaron is almost finished with school?
He'll be moving back in with me for a brief time until he decides where to plant himself for now.

Can you hear my heart singing from where you sit?

: -)

Over the weekend we butchered 24 meat birds.

That's a whole 'notha post.

Rest assured I'm not sharing photos.

It was a very humbling, traumatizing experience that has forever changed a part of me.

Baby, the turkey is dead.

Just up and died one day, I have no idea why - looked like he was sleeping.

Other than that - I've been canning, and trying to keep moisture on our desert like acres.

Now - this is the real deal - and as usual - I feel vulnerable putting this out on the Interweb, and yet it's my nature to share my life - which I still don't fully understand my desire to do so - other than perhaps helping others, and helping me figure out what in the Sam hill is going on in this mind of mine.

Today I swear I heard a still small voice in my head - which sounded a lot like Arnold Schwarzenegger saying - 'I must break you' - to which I had to giggle a little.

I thought about the flax that I used to work with years ago, when I volunteered time at a little cabin in the woods - teaching children what life was like in pioneer times.

The flax was hard reeds that needed to be soaked, threshed, broken, and run through a bed of sharp nails before it could be spun and woven into something useful and beautiful.

I've decided to believe that is what's happening to me.

I'm just cutting and pasting this post that I wrote on the Leanness Lifestyle forum.

I just wanted you all to know where I was right now.

This could be long - and boring - because I'm refusing to use humor at the moment. : -D No hiding this time. Here goes. 

Not too long ago I was blabbering all over the Brene Brown thread about being vulnerable, and I'm enough. 

It's been a summer of cock suckery. Pardon my language. 

A quick synopsis, and I'm sure I'll even forget half of it - but here goes. The summer started out with a bad case of poison ivy - which lead to steroids, which led to me not sleeping for a few nights, and then I got a urinary tract infection which led to a really bad reaction to the antibiotics - which had me off for a good week. And from there - it becomes a blur. I worked myself half to death in the garden in May - or so it seemed. Sometime in June I think it was, I stepped on a rusty screw and ended up at the Dr. for a tetanus shot, which led to the discovery of extremely high blood pressure, which explained the headaches I was having. The high BP was a side effect that I was unknowingly having from taking Effexor (something the Dr. put me on for perimenopausal anxiety). I had to get off of the drug ASAP, and I was rather glad to anyhow -I felt that I was a bit emotionally numb, and the sexual side effects were disturbing for someone like myself, with the sex drive of a 17 year old boy. What I didn't know was that getting off of Effexor after taking it for a year was almost impossible. I tried three times, and couldn't bear the withdrawal effects. 

Eye break. 

I finally managed to get completely off of it about a month ago. I also had a abnormal pap result during that time which was a bit stressful until resolved. I have never experienced the likes of anything like trying to get off the anti-depressant Effexor. If you don't believe me, Google that shit. One man said it was easier getting off of heroin. I was sick for weeks. I had days where I had to sit perfectly still or I was sure my brain would fall out, and all I would do was cry. Horrific. 

Finally, I felt better, right about the time that LS218 was starting. 

I was feeling really good as a matter of a fact. Now? Um. Not good. I'm experiencing what the Dr. warned I could have - rebound depression. Now - I wasn't even being treated for depression with this drug, and I've never been depressed, but I am now. It's awful. I have so much compassion now for people that are prone to it. how long it will last? I'm not sure. 

Last week I had to have my gums lasered - the day before that I jacked my knee up doing squats. I'm still limping. Today I twisted my ankle in the garden and went down, re-tweaking the knee, and now it crunches when I move it. And I'm depressed. 

Lovely picture isn't it? 

OK, all of that to say this. I don't like feeling weak. I don't like feeling like other people view me as weak. I'm used to being one of the top students here, and now I'm the bottom. I'm used to being the life of that party, and now if you are around me long enough I will make you cry. Oh yes, I will. 

I'm working on acting my way out of this - I do get up and stay busy all day - I look for others that need help and help them. I try to spread kindness even though I don't feel like it. I ain't no wallower. I do my crying while I do my chores. 

I've tried kicking my own ass several times. I put my accountability up to a level four to have my ass kicked. Nothing is working. I absolutely feel like I have no fight left in me, no drive, nothing. I open my assignment page and I cry. I feel so battle weary. 

I want to do yoga and meditate and cry and take long walks alone, and then complain that I'm lonely. I want to stop thinking about goals and I swear if I read ONE more motivational or inspirational quote on Facebook, I'm going to lose it. 

I've felt angry a lot lately. 

So there you have it. Jayme is a hot mess. I still deep inside love me and think I'm enough. I still plan on being here, cause I can't think of a better place to be when I'm in a state such as this. 

I am open, I am vulnerable - and it's OK. Somehow, I've felt girded inside just typing all of this here. It's so easy to hide, isnt it? Perhaps in weakness exposed, there is strength. 

I'm trying to treat myself as I would my best friend if she were going through this. Kindness to myself. So easy to say, often so hard to do.

The Job - Part 2

Look how big Baby Turkey is getting!

Here's a few more details about the job decision - for the inquiring minds.

First I want to preface this by saying - I wasn't looking for a job.

I'm never looking for anything - things come across my path - and they sound like fun.

My problem is that I want to do everything.

If it's fun - I want in.

Work at Starbucks? 

FUN!

Macy's make up counter?

FUN!

The garden center, the bookstore, the library?

FUN! FUN! FUN!

When the health club job popped up - I thought ...ohhh, I can wear cute workout outfits and make smoothies for people and then I can use that money to pay for a personal trainer.

SO - I'm supposed to be there at 8:30am on Thursday morning (a week ago today) - so that I'd talk to him before the hardcore workout class.  I thought I'd look better.

Now...classic Jayme behavior - I do not look at the address of where I'm going, because I'm under the assumption - which I have no idea where I got that assumption - that this gym was near Home Depot, in the old Gold's Gym building.

I leave 45 minutes before the interview - it's a 20 minute drive.

I stop at a yard sale on the way - I've got plenty of time.

I get to the old Gold's Gym building, and it's completely abandoned.

Now - remember, I got rid of my cell phone?

Ya.

So I see this guy loading a van and I ask for help.

He looks on HIS smart phone and gives me an address...I had no idea it was that far out!  I am going to have to hustle.

I hustle.

That's not it.

That's a gym called American Fitness - not BodyMaxx.

I stop at the farm stand next door and they tell me - oh that was BodyMaxx until recently.

I ask for a phone book.

Remember those?

It's not in there.

I'm now 10 minutes late for the interview, I have no phone, and I have no flipping clue where the gym is.

I get in my car...

it won't start.

I smile and say 'ok God, this is your answer'.

I start driving home - thinking I will call and apologize profusely to this man for wasting his time.

I decide to try ONE more time to find the place, and I pulled into the Dish Network office and found a super nice guy that looked it up on the internet, printed me out a map, and handed me a phone to call the guy.

He got a hug.

He still wanted to interview me, and laughed at my predicament.

I showed up 45 minutes late for the interview.

Great first impression...

"Um, I like totally don't know where your gym is at, and like, I don't have a cell phone".

We had a great conversation.

I told him - I don't want to work Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays, or nights.

I need unlimited vacation time off.

He said...ok.

Ha!

I felt excited and thought I would take the job, all weekend, that was my plan.

Then I found myself starting to feel anxious.

Sunday and Monday, Aaron is here.

Tues - Thurs I would be at the gym.

Fridays I clean for my neighbor.

That leaves Saturday.

It made me itchy inside.

I am very fortunate that I don't have to work, although, if you saw my bank account, you might disagree.

I am just happy with enough.

Enough to pay the bills, enough to buy food.

Enough.

I'm not willing to trade my time for a sense false of security.

Trust me, the little I would make from a job certainly wouldn't offer any security.

It might offer steak instead of ground round.

Interestingly enough - I found myself being a lot freer with spending at the thought of working again.

Selah.

But for whatever reason, I had the hardest time making a decision.   I kept fearing that I'd make the wrong one.  I had no peace with either decision at first.

I'll take the job.  Hmm....I don't know...it doesn't feel right. Am I just scared? Have I become too comfortable at home?

I won't take the job....ooohhh, what if I'm missing a blessing?  I need to give back, blah blah.

Then I just starting thinking this:

I would be exchanging a good 18 hours of my time a week to work with a personal trainer for 3.

Not a good trade.

I finally felt peace.

I thanked him for my time, and declined the job.

Once a decision was made, and in stone...I really felt good.

I felt relieved.

I think it was the right decision for me.

Stay tuned...next month I may join the military, start a new business or decide to take a solo sailing trip around the world...

Never a dang dull moment.

The Job

I wish I had the time to give you every detail, and I do hope to soon - about being 45 minutes late to the interview.

I was still offered the job.

Yes.

I'm that fabulous.

: -)

I turned down the job.

Yep.

Again - details to come.

It's just that it's 5am, and there's a cool breeze and a full moon outside and the moonlight is casting magical shadows on the pumpkin leaves, and I don't want to miss it.

I am Effexor free.

Nearly two weeks.

I can't get over how fabulous I feel.

I feel like I'm alive again.

It's supposed to be in the 90's the next few days.

I'll make sure I get back up in here when it's too hot to be outside and fill in all the blanks for you.

xo

Thank You

I thought posting yesterday would give me some clarity.

Well, it didn't.

Ha!

I loved all of your advice and opinions though.

Been mulling it over, and it's approximately 2 hours before the face to face meeting.

This I know for sure.

The job will have to be as flexible as Nadia Comaneci for me to take it.

It's not about the money AT ALL.

It's not about 'having something to do' AT ALL.

Lord knows I could use more of the first, and have plenty of the second.

It's this.

I have struggled with my weight my entire life.

Down inside, I know there is a fit person, and that is who I really am.

For me - working at the gym would be a catalyst to realize that dream.

Yes, I've lost over 100 lbs.

Yes, I look great.

BUT - 

Now, I'm not being unrealistic, nor do I have a body image disorder - it's not about how I look at all - really, it isn't.

It's about being true to myself.

It's about honoring that dream of being fit.

It's about saying 'Jayme, you did it.  You said you'd do it, and you did'.

It's about keeping my word to myself.

I feel like I've been lounging in the pool of ambivalence, and it's not a comfortable place for me to be, although the drinks are divine.

There are some dreams that we need help fulfilling.

I need help with this one.

I feel that I need a personal trainer - someone to push me harder than I'm willing to push myself.

In my mind's eye - I imagine starting work at 5:30 - working my shift - then working out with a trainer, showering, sauna, and come home.

It sounds like a win win.

SO - within a few hours I should know if I'm taking it.

The flexible hours will be the deal breaker.

I shan't give up my Mondays with Aaron.

I shan't be willing to work all weekend.

I need to be able to take unlimited vacation time without pay if I want it.

So you see...this would have to be a really special situation.

Thanks so much for all of your input, opinions, encouragement and thought provoking comments!

I would love it if you would take a few minutes to watch this inspiring video!

A Decision

Are you good at making them?

I'm sure the heck not.

I think any 'good' decision I've ever made was pure luck.

I vacillate.

I think out loud and it makes me sound bi-polar.

I ask anybody, and their brother - 'what should I do?'

Then I'm further confused by everyone's opinions.

Case in point.

I have a job interview tomorrow.

Ya.

I know.

But first - let me say this - I had a job interview lined up at Macy's in the cosmetic department, and then I cancelled it.

When I applied for the job - I was thinking:

This winter - I might need to get out.

I want to wear a white jacket and have a flawless face and play with lipstick.

I want deep discounts on skincare.

I like people.

I wasn't thinking:

I have to be there when they tell me to.

I have to try to push credit cards.

I have to be there when they tell me to.

I have to be there when they tell me to.

Get my drift?

This job - well, it kind of fell in my lap.

Part time at a gym.

This is what I'm thinking:

Oh!  I could wear cute workout outfits!

Oh!  I could have access to personal trainers!

Oh!  They have a SAUNA!

Oh!  I would be so focused and motivated!

Oh!  I could inspire someone to change their life!

Oh!  Maybe I could work at the smoothie bar!

Oh!  Oh!

Fun!

This is what I'm not thinking:

They open at 5:30am.

Indiana winters are C O L D.

I have to be there when they tell me.

I'll save the typing - just say that six times.

Not about the money - I don't really WANT a job - but this one? 

It sounds fun.

But what if it's not fun in two weeks?

SO -

What should I do?

Hilary was right - it takes a village to raise a child...or an idiot apparently.

Counting Chickens, The Vietnamese Woman and Stubbs

I hope I'm not counting my chickens before they hatch here...

but...

Guess what gals?

I feel good today.

I mean - like, really good.

This morning was iffy - I felt a bit dizzy.

I still have a bitty headache.

Once I had breakfast and got moving, I felt good.

And guess what else?

I didn't take the Prozac.

Mmmmhmmm....I decided..'what if I don't need it?  What if the withdrawal side effects are over, why 

bother keeping taking the Prozac?'

So I threw caution right into the wind, and didn't take it today.

Seven days without Effexor now - and today the first fully chemically free day.

I feel hopeful.

The staple gun to the brain feeling has stopped.

I made myself an appointment at the Naturopath doctor that I found.

She comes highly recommended, and I'm looking forward to meeting her.

It's August 22nd.

A two hour consultation.

Hurray!

I truly know that sometimes prescription drugs are, or maybe seem the only way to go.

But this is what I think - and take it with a grain of salt - because it's just what I think - and thank God for antibiotics..but weren't they derived from a moldy piece of bread?

My thought?

Everything that we need to heal is in us or around us in nature.

I think that most of our sickness is from what we think, eat, and how we treat our bodies so carelessly.

I'll say no more.

Onward.

Here is the story of the Vietnamese woman and Stubbs.

Y'all know I've been buying fingernails.

I'm rather in love with them.

My hands look so lovely, and these suckers hold up well to the abuse I put them through.

Well...the neatest older Vietnamese woman did my nails last time, and we chatted up a storm.

I did my best to understand her, but I do declare I'm sure I missed over half of what she said.

Anyhow - we talked about bees, chickens, Vietnam, gardening, retirement, men- etc.

She stopped by to get honey.

She loved the yard and wanted to see everything.

She was here a good hour.

I loved listening to her talk - and give me garden tips.

I wanted to do a little video - imitating her - not in a make fun of way - but just to give you an idea of how precious it was, but Aaron didn't think it was a good idea.  He thought it could be misinterpreted.

Anyhow - she is walking around, loving everything and saying 'You hard worker! You do this by yourself?  You hard worker!'

Then - we get to the chicken coop, and Stubbs was seeming a bit under the weather.  She'd seemed that way the day before too and I was just keeping an eye on her.  I didn't think that she would be contagious or anything, so I left her with the flock - but decided that morning that I would take her and bring her in - a little special loving.

Stubbs - proudly wearing her 'Most Beautiful Chicken' ribbon.

My Vietnamese friend, whom I'm ashamed to say - I don't know her name (and she stopped her again today!) - says 'you get her out!  you get her out now!'  So, I go get her - and we examine her - and she tells me that she thinks an egg has broken inside of her.

"You feed her garlic - you make her hot inside".

I have no idea why - but I have been saying that - at least ten times a day.

It will go down in the files with "mmmmhmmm, and I don't even feel good'.

So, I did what any chicken lovin' human would do - I made her up a big ole pot of oatmeal...filled with garlic.

I flat out burnt up the first batch because my neighbor stopped by and we were jabber jawing in the yard - we both smelled something burning at the same time.

Made another pot.

The blessed little Stubbs hungrily ate her allium porridge amongst the daylilies and moss roses.

I came in, but just for a moment (ok a half an hour) to get her a bowl of water - and when I returned to the garden patch where she was hunkered - alas, she was gone.

I'm trying to make this sound dramatic.

I never saw her again.

I've looked and looked - and couldn't find her.

It was a mystery - I mean - I knew she had to have passed, but not to find her?

Today - Glenco smelled something off in the garage..and well...there her carcass was - tucked far under the workbench.  I haven't the heart to look.  My last memory of her was her beak in a bowl of garlic oatmeal.

Now, the question is - did my new Vietnamese friend suggest the garlic for healing, or seasoning??

Law.

I will miss you Stubbs. 

I will miss bringing you grubs, worms and dandelions.

I will miss you following me around the yard and pecking at my pants, sitting on my spade waiting for treats.

I will miss your ridiculous cackling, announcing you laid an egg.

I will not miss you pecking the new chickens, or eating your own eggs.

But now that you are gone, I can't even be mad at you for that.

Til soon sweet Stubs - may you have the best spot on the pole at the big roost in the sky.

Update...

A heartfelt thank you for your prayers and comments!

Lookie here:

So incredibly thankful and grateful that he is off of the life support.

Glory.

Aaron is fine - walking around with a brace on - he's got a really big hard knot on his ankle.  The BoyChild really done did a good job on sprainin' it.

I'm ok.

Not 100% - but ok. 

I drove to the grocery store with no incident yesterday.

Actually - yesterday was a really good day - and today has been - up until now - now I'm a bit 

queasy, dizzy and just not myself again.

I'm doing the Prozac bridge.

It's really, really helping.

You know what?

I feel really vulnerable putting all of this out here - but, if it helps anyone - it's worth it.

I'm learning a lot during this, trial - shall we call it.

I'm learning more and more that I've always done, or tried to do, way, way too much.

I've learned that I kinda like being alone.

I've learned that I need to have someone in my corner, when I'm not feeling well, or thinking straight - that can do it for me.  That can help me make some choices.

When I was so anxious last year - and desperate for relief - I wish that I had the sense of mind to try some natural things before I took the Effexor.

Or at least I wish I had looked it up and read about it.

Nope.  I just took it.

Oh - it worked like a charm - but everything else it did to me - I don't think it was a good trade.

High blood pressure?

Sexual side effects?

And you know - I just felt like I've barely been able to write a good blog post since I started taking it - I felt as if I lost my personality a bit.

Anyhoo...just wanted to update y'all.

Onward and upward.

thank you again.

xo

til soon.