Doing Dishes

Yes, another dish post.  But!  This is not the usual whining “Oh why oh why are my dishes dirty AGAIN???” post.

Nope.  This one might shock some of you.  So, hang onto your hats!  Here we go!

According to the Bible, I wash dishes like a MAN!   What???  Yup!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA Guttenberg Bible

 

 

2 Kings 21:13

“And I will stretch over Jerusalem the line of Samaria, and the plummet of the house of Ahab: and I will wipe Jerusalem as a man wipeth a dish, wiping it, and turning it upside down.”

See?  I do that, cuz I don’t trust my washing skills!   So, since I do dishes like a man, does that mean I can wait for someone else to do them?????   (Sorry guys if that hurt, just calling like I see ’em, from my VAST experience. lol  Except XH, I must say, he was very good to me about doing the dishes when I was depressed, or disabled- AFTER he retired, that is!)

So, I guess now I’m gonna have to go take a pic, so you can see for yourself.  Oh ACK! That means doing dishes, again!  I already washed my cup, bowl, and spoon from breakfast.  Can you believe it??  The day I need to document myself washing dishes, and I don’t have any dirty ones!!   So annoying!  Actually, I’m very proud of myself, that that is true!!!  Woo hoo, me!!  I think I need to go celebrate!!

 

I couldn’t find any purple ones. 😦

Okay, back from the party.  (That was fun!!)

Now to go see if I can take my own pic of me washing dishes upside down.   I’ll be sure and let you know how it goes!

Reminiscing Rememberances

When a friend , Kristen, started a homemaking blog, TheRoadtoDomestication, I was excited for her!  She just got married, so yay! We can learn things together.  But she’s a natural born “cleanie” and organizer, and I AM NOT.  It frustrated me that things that were simple for her made no sense to me, and I tried, but just COULDN’T do them.  So, while I was happy for her, I was still depressed for me.

L0026686 A woman diagnosed as suffering from melancholia. Colour lith Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://wellcomeimages.org A woman diagnosed as suffering from melancholia. Colour lithograph, 1892, after J. Williamson, 1890. 1890-1892 By: J. Williamsonafter: Byrom BramwellPublished: [1892] Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons Attribution only licence CC BY 4.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

 

Then I heard about FLYLady.  She has flybabies, well then maybe I can do that!  But, her first thing was to get up, shower and dress all the way down to shoes, and makeup.  I didn’t have any makeup, and only wore shoes outside!  So, before we even started, I was already a loser!  Than made me super upset and frustrated.

Then I finally had the bright idea to Google slob, (best thing I ever did for my home!!) and found NONY from the SlobComesClean, and the angels sang! She gets me!!  She’s just like me!!  I had found my tribe!!

I started reading her, then a month later, decided to start my own blog, (this very one!) to document my own journey out of slobbery.

Lots of things have happened between now and then.  DD1 and PP have moved out, DD1 and SIL have gotten married, now with PPJr on the way!!

I have moved twice!!!

My Very First Place, All on my Own!

 

DH and I separated, and now on the way to being divorced.

I have learned how to de-clutter!!  I have learned to do dishes!!! (before they mildew even!!)

I’ve broken my back, (can’t find the right post for some reason, oh well, back to my sentence) gotten back on track with health, gone GF, gone back on that, and gone back to GF!!

Whew! That’s a lot of switchbacks!

I’ve organized!  (With help, of course.)

I’ve lost a brother-in-law.  This one is the worst.  Death is horrible, the effects last as long as you live.  The only consolation we have , is that we will see him again in heaven.  So, cherish all your loved ones.  Kiss and hug, and say “I love you” everyday.  You never know when it will be your last chance.

So, here we are, today, January 25, 2016.   A year and a half later, I’m still slogging, cleaning, de-cluttering, and learning.   And I love my life!   Thanks everyone for coming along with me!!  I appreciate y’all so much for taking your time out of your busy life, to read what I have to say, and comment.  Y’all are the best!!  Hugs and kisses to all!

I love you, my readers!!

{I can NOT believe I didn’t say PURPLE one time in this WHOLE post!  I had to remedy that real quick like!}

College Collective

It was always assumed we 3 kings kids would go to college.   Were you breathing?   Yes, sir.  Do you intend to remain in that condition following graduation?   Yes, sir.   Then you’re going to college.    (Maybe it was never stated verbally, but trust me: it was implicit in their eyes, whenever it was time for report cards!)

Also assumed, was WHAT college, A BIBLE college, for course.   And WHICH Bible college was therefore predestined: Southeastern Bible College of the Assemblies of God.   (We called ourselves SCAGites, isn’t that a lovely image???)   By the time Brother got there, (AFTER I graduated in 1983, Sister in 1993, and MAMA {Go, MAMA!!} in 2003) it was SEU, Southeastern University.   We’d come a long way, baby!   AS you can tell, since he’s older than Sis, he’d taken a detour on the way there.   Barely survived till then too, since our dad nearly skinned him alive for declaring. “I don’t WANT to go to college.  I’ll be happy as a manual laborer.   {Aha! NOW I remember why we called him Manuel!}

Anyway, now where was I???   Oh yeah, college.   No wonder my mind wanders, that was a LONG time ago!    (Since you know what year it is, do the math.   If you don’t know what year it is, it’s okay, we still love you.)

So, I dutifully went to college.  I really loved school, so I was looking forward to it.   AND bonus; I got to live in the dorm!!!!   Woo hoo!! Par-TAY time!!   All my  life I had been a good church girl.   Well…. mostly!   I was still a virgin, never did drugs, (Unless you count caffeine!) and obeyed my parents (usually).   I didn’t even sass back…. unless you count eye rolls, and tongue sticking-out-behind-their-back, which they ALWAYS totally busted me on!   How do mothers DO that??   ( I found out when I became a Mom.   It’s a superpower God gives Moms.)   So, anyhoo, I was looking forward to the freedom of being on my own.   Yeah, right!!   SEBC  thought they were our parents!   Just without the Mom superpowers.

So, I did a few minor infractions, but stayed on the Honor Roll.   But the school never gave out 5 dollar bills, like the REAL parents did!!

Me, (YES, really me! 3 decades ago)

(Allen C, my senior year boyfriend, and I at my Senior Banquet.   I pretended this was our wedding photo!!   What??  He had on a tux, and I had on a white dress!!  I had a vivid imagination, yes!)

 

 

When I graduated, cum laude, thank you very much, I knew I was gonna be a teacher, till I met Mr. Right, got married, had babies, and never work again.    OOOOhhhh, my sides hurt from making myself laugh so hard at THAT one!!!  Being a parent is the HARDEST job in the world!!   Followed closely by being a teacher.

Okay, now I’ve totally lost my entire train of thought for this post….

Something about going to college and meeting boys, was what I originally thought I was gonna write about.   Oh, well.  Hope you enjoyed this peek into the past!

Next time I’ll try to stick to the point!

 

Awful Alarm

See why I don’t cook???   All l did was turn on the oven,

Oven on, temp. set

 

 

and put chicken thighs inside.  

Sorta baked thighs

Then the ear-splitting fire alarm goes off!  

ANNOYING ALARM!!

 

 I took it down, and put it inside my robe.

Looks like I’m alarmed and dangerous!

 

Then the one way down the hall joins in the cacophony.    Dang!    (I know I’m a big girl!!!, but still there ain’t room for both! )

 

So, I wrapped them both up in my thick blankie.   This oughta fix ’em!!

Wrapped up like pigs in a blanket

If the smoke gets so thick they go off again, I better hi-tail it outta here myself!!

 

Even the alarms get alarmed when I try to cook.   It just ain’t worth the headache!!  That’s why I bake my potatoes in the microwave.   Looks like I need to learn how to bake chicken in there as well!!    Alternately, just buy canned chicken, and forget the whole “But, I want it hot!” thing.   I’m thinking that just might be the best solution.

It’s annoying, depressing, not a good thing at all.   Maybe part of my planning for meals should be donning my Haz mat suit???   AND calling the Firemen to be on stand-by???

Even with all the alarms, noise, and smoke, it turned out to be a yummy supper after all!

Baked , okay, microwaved potato, and baked (yes, really!) chicken

Eliminated Elephant

Apparently I am just a horrible rancher, animal husband, zookeeper, person!   I keep killing all my animals!    First the cow, then the cat, now the elephant!  (But they were just clutter to me!!)

 

Blissfully unaware of his fate.

 

 

Whoa, PETA!  Before you arrest me, they weren’t alive in the first place!   Whew!  Had to make that perfectly clear!!

All the real animals from Melinda’s Menagarie  are alive and well, to this day.   (Unless the gators got one of the birds last night.   But, we won’t think about that!)

It’s not my fault that I don’t like animals.  Mama didn’t either.   So, it’s her fault!!

Killing the cow was a deep impulse, driving me to do the dirty deed.   Might have been a mistake too, I’m always out of butter and milk now!

Killing the cat was an act of compassion.   Remember her broken leg?   That’s what you do with horses, right?   See, not my fault!  I had to do it for her sake!!

Killing the elephant just had to be done.  Deaths usually come in threes, so again, not my fault.

Besides looking hideous, he was suffering from osteoporosis!   Evidence:  how easily he shattered when hurled, placed softly into the trash can!

The poor elephant just went to pieces.

 

 

Poor old elephant, just thrown away with the trash.   Good riddance I say!

“Cat”astrophe

Oh dear, all you animal lovers are gonna be up in arms against me, for sure now.

I confess, I’ve killed another animal.

Yes, the poor cow was only the beginning of my murderous spree.  Then, I went on to shoot down butterflies.

 

My conscience smote me, so I did let the hummingbird live, and just re-homed it.  

The hummingbird- escaped with it’s life!

Miss Betty, next door, who is apparently running a hummingbird rescue, gladly took it in.

 

The cat

Poor cat, has NO idea what’s about to go “DOWN”. (Hint- it’s her.)

 

with the broken leg,

Not sure who amputated her paw- I’m not a vet, that’s for sure!

 

was the next  victim to catch my eye.   I put her “down”, but she’s too heavy for me to throw away in the trash bury properly .  So she is awaiting a kind gentleman to take pity on her, and lay her to rest.

Kitty Down!! Help!! She’s fallen and can’t get up!!

 

Calling all animal lovers!   I beg you to come rescue any remaining animals here on my homestead lot.   If you don’t, I’m warning you, they’ll ALL be dead and gone.

Update:  I started working out, so I was able to inter her myself.   What a lovely green “urn”.

Kitty in her “urn” for burial. (Yeah, the Green M&M got it too. Remember, I told you they were “bad!”)

 

 

 

RIP White Kitty.

 

Hypothyroid Hell

“Here, let’s pray about it.  Just think positive thoughts, now.   You’ll be okay.”

I’m aghast that here it is 2016, and still some people think I can pull my self up by the bootstraps, out of depression.   Really, people????   No one in their right mind would say that to an amputee!!!   But, because my disability is invisible, it’s fair game????

I have spent a whole week, in such deep, dark, depression, that I’ve been suicidal.  Crying, aching for someone to just hold me, and cry with me.   Whisper “I’m here.   I love you.   I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”

But no.   Instead I got that first line up there.   Almost feels like I’m being told it’s my fault.  It’s NOT my fault!!   Yes, it’s all in my head- brain, and thyroid, which is in my neck.    But the blood chemistry being off, and missing vital chemicals is NOT my fault!!

When I figured out Thursday afternoon, what was wrong, I wanted to punch my doctor.  I have hypothyroidism.   Which means, my thyroid is sluggish, and doesn’t make enough thyroid hormone.   I’ve had this condition for 26 years, ever since I was pregnant with DD2.  My thyroid, for unknown reasons, just decided to quit functioning correctly.   So, I have been fighting this battle a LONG, LONG time.   This combined with bi-polar makes my life extremely difficult.   So many variables, and they have to be all lined up exactly, in order for me to function optimally.    My levels have been fluctuating, and my Dr. kept lowering my dose.   This last time, she lowered it to HALF of my dose from last year.   I BEGGED her not to do it.   “I’m doing okay.  Please don’t lower it.”  Nope, she did it, cuz my “Bloodwork”  showed my levels were wrong.   Well, to her, it’s numbers on a report, to ME, it’s my life!!  And so, because she didn’t listen to me, I spent a week in hell.  Life is not even worth living, if you’re constantly in hell, and looking for a way out, and all fire exits are blocked.

L0026686 A woman diagnosed as suffering from melancholia. Colour lith Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://wellcomeimages.org A woman diagnosed as suffering from melancholia. Colour lithograph, 1892, after J. Williamson, 1890. 1890-1892 By: J. Williamsonafter: Byrom BramwellPublished: [1892] Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons Attribution only licence CC BY 4.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

(This is a pretty good visual.   Even though it doesn’t completely express the depths of despair.)

So, Friday morning, I took my old 200 mcg dose.  And Sat. and Sun.   No improvement yet.  But, I will keep on taking the 200, till I feel myself at least at ground level, instead of a thousand feet down in a hole.

Physical recovery takes a long time.  And when your Doctor doesn’t listen, and sabotages you, it takes even longer.  I don’t mean that I think she did it on purpose to hurt me.   I know she is doing her best to help me.   But, I’m not just numbers on a paper.   I’m me.

I’m writing this Sunday night.   I was so desperate to get to my counselor, and then go see my Doctor tomorrow.   Then I remembered it’s Dr. Martin Luther King day.   So, they’re both closed.  The only thing I’ll be celebrating, is if I live through another night.

Sorry, I know this is a heavy topic.   And there’s no jokes, or anything to make you laugh.  Welcome to my reality.   It’s not always a very pretty place.

Update: Monday I feel so much better!  It’s amazing what having what you need, will do for you!   Even did stuff!  Cleaned!!  (Don’t faint!!)  De-cluttered!

 

Numbered Names

What number of names can I use in 1 post?   I’m thinking eleventy dozen…

“Very Young”- that’s me! Hey, they didn’t specify that it had to be your Chronological age!!

Jenny, I think it’s unremarkable how your kids file away numbers.   If we all band together, and use the number eleventy in the episodes of our daily life, it becomes a legit word, right, Edwina??

My BBFF Janice mostly writes about blogging. I’ve learned a number of helpful things from her.

Sarah Eliza devastates boredom on a daily basis.   How many of y’all can say that???

Claremary putters around the barn.  Hey, can you send ZuZu to find me a number of mice?  Thanks!

Himali spends her time decoding happiness.   I’m glad she does it, not me!   Happiness eludes me in a number of ways!

Susie is shy 45% of her days.   But, I managed to draw her out of her shell a number of times!

Roopam is whimsical 90 % of the time.  Lovely!

Sherri has a great view from  her summerhouse.   You can see any number of excellent vistas!

Carol was retired, but no one told her!   What a number they did on her!!

Carmen is always fashionable, even over 50 years!   I can always find any number of cute outfit suggestions on her blog.

Ralph put indigo in his water.   Now he’s in trouble!  Apparently a number of blue fish have way too much indigo in them!

Teagan has written a number of books.   

Whew!  I’m tired from the sheer number of names I crammed in 1 post!!   If you didn’t appear, never fear!   I have a number of names left to drop!  And many more posts to write!

(PS: It is with a great sense of accomplishment that I announce, I used the word “number” 15 times in this post!!   Oops!  I forgot to count the one in quotes there!  -16!   And I dropped 13 names!!   YAY ME!!!!)

{If you only counted 13 times, hint- look at the pix.}

M&M

What did I just spend a whole evening doing?   Well, glad you asked.   Separating the good from the bad M&Ms.  

Christmas M&M bag

 

What???   No, no, I meant the green from the good!

Mixed bag of M&Ms

 

“Bad” and “Good” M&Ms

 

No! I meant the green from the red!

 

There are NO bad M&Ms!!

Just green is bad for my next party theme- Valentine’s Day.

JUST the “Bad” green ones

 

I need red,

JUST the “Good” red ones

 

white, pink and purple.

Unfortunately for me, all that’s on clearance right now is the Christmas candy.   But hey!    If all I have is red for Valentine’s, then we’re gonna pretend red is all we needed!

And, the “bad” ones taste just as good!

Cupful of just red M&Ms

 

 

Putting them in a purple cup MAKES them purple, right???

(What do you mean where are the green ones??   How should I know??   I’m innocent, I swear!   They were just right there!   What do you mean why is my hand green???   Dang it!   They promised they wouldn’t melt in my hand!!)

 

Join the party here:     

http://www.purfylle.com

Divorce Decision

With a pervasive sense of sadness, I drove to the courthouse, and filed my divorce papers.  

We’ve tried to make our marriage work, we just couldn’t.

The clerk couldn’t say how long it would take to have a court date. So, we’ll see….

 

 

Endings are always bittersweet.

Bitter, because I feel like a failure.   This is my third divorce.   What kind of awful person am I, anyway??   (The only saving grace in my mind is, the first 2 divorces were to the same husband.   No one can ever say we didn’t try!)

Sweet, because it will be a relief to just have it done, and over with.   Even as amicable as we are, there is always a certain tension.

So, on to practical matters.  For obvious reasons, DH will now be referred to as XH. (EX-Husband.)

We have agreed to remain friends, so he may still appear now and again.

My name will be changing again.   Not to my last married name, but to my first married name.  Since we have children together, with that name, and I was a Woideck longer than anything else, except my maiden name, Hawkins.

“Boutonniere-whitesuit” by David Ball – Own work. Licensed under CC BY 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons – https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Boutonniere-whitesuit.jpg#/media/File:Boutonniere-whitesuit.jpg

 

 

  My last married name, Sanchez, never felt truly mine.  Probably because he died of cancer after only 2 months.   And being a widow was so shocking, and painful, that nothing felt right.

 

 

 

 

And now a new chapter begins……

Hey, it says what I needed- (the first line anyway! ) AND- IT”S PURPLE!!