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Category Archives: pets

Storm heading in during our brief visit to Reno this weekend.

Storm heading in during our brief visit to Reno this weekend.

Table is nearly empty. Getting down to minutia ...

Table is nearly empty. Getting down to minutia ...

I always find things are much easier to deal with on a macro, rather than a micro level. It is pretty easy to sort clothes and thing. Rather, I should say, it is comparatively easy. Getting down to buttons, bills I no longer need, magazines I”m not done reading, and the like have an ansane abililty to kick my ass and stop me dead in my tracks in  terms of dealing with stuff.

On the table are some binders I bought at the local outlet/seconds store. When I got them home and took a good look at them they were clearly either falling apart, or would be quickly with any use. The wise thing to do would have been to have inspected them thouroughly before buying them, of course. The next most desirable thing would have been to return or exchange them before I lost the reciept. Now I have to decide if I am brave enought to ask for what I want, wich is either an exchange, or a refund. I find it amazingly hard to ask for what I want or need of others.

I have quite a large pile of things to go to donation, including a box of things my grandmother brought home after her volunteer shift at the food bank. I swear, I got back at least one thing I had previously donated in addition to multiple sweaters, including some with a christmas theme. Not the kind of thing I am inclined to wwear, even when I was teaching elementary school. There is a large size garbage bag of clothes including some nice skirts, one or two clocks, some shoes, pants, and the like. There are also some books, and clean cottage cheese containers and lids to go to Down Home Foods, out local health food store. The containers are for holding things like raw agave nectar, and other foods and spices in bulk.

I am exhausted, and so this is the end of my post for Monday. Late, but more in the ball park than I’ve been lately!

Sweet dreams all!

-Pauline

Things waiting to be donated and a re-usable shopping bag waiting to move out to the car.

Things waiting to be donated and a re-usable shopping bag waiting to move out to the car.

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Mmmm, moldy cheese.

Mmmm, moldy cheese. Not! This was given with the best of intentions. I don't know if Gran can even see the mold any more. If she could she would tell me to cut it off. I am tired of cutting off the mold, espescially from new cheese, both actually and metaphorically!

Wow! This is a touchy subject, or it wouldn’t take me so long to finish writing and posting it. I started writing this Monday, came back Tuesday, Wed, Thursday and Friday. Still no post. I am going to finish it. It may be a bit rambly, convoluted and off topic, but I am going to attempt to finish this today. post it and get back on track. I feel disloyal, but I suppose that is part of the process at times.

The kids and I spent the night at Gran’s Monday night, or rather we tried. We’ve been trying to work it out to stay there at night since it became an issue a few weeks ago.  Her legs have been giving her trouble for a couple of months now in that every once in a while they won’t do what she tells them to, as it were. Trying to sort out how to make it work so that sleeping there is reasonable for everyone has been next to impossible. I had a plan I thought would work, in terms of where the kids and I would sleep according to noise levels

My back has been out to a larger and lesser extent for about a week now. I have good and bad days, and can’t always act as if I’m fine or be able to do everything Gran wants me to do for her. She asked me to do something (I don’t remember what) on Saturday and I told her I couldn’t as my back was out. She called up that evening and left a message telling the kids and I to come spend the night so she could look out for me.  We didn’t get the message until later, as we had been at the store when she called and when we got home I went up to bed. I saw her the Sunday morning and told her we’d spend the night that night. 

My daughter, Rowan, went over fairly early in the day and made some soup and was going to make gluten free bread, as well. Gran kept offering Rowan extra things to put in the soup. She, and I, both explained that Ro was following a recipe. Finally Gran let her finish sans rutabagas and whatever else might be lurking in the fridge.

My Son, Forrest,  and I returned later in the evening, as I was working on a graphic and made him something to eat, as he does not eat bacon. Once at Gran’s we all got ready for bed, made sure everyone had what they needed for the morning and hit the hay.

Forrest could not sleep in a bed not his own, and came in with some frequency to tell me he couldn’t sleep. I finally sent him home at 3 am and he went to bed there. It’s only a few blocks away, and he is no longer a minor.

In the morning,  I came out of the shower and over heard Gran heckling Rowan about not eating strawberries with her cereal. She told me later that she thought Rowan liked Strawberries, and that she wouldn’t bring them home anymore if no one was going to eat them. She offered to hull them for me for breakfast. I told her that Ro does like strawberries, but not necessarily with her cereal, and that she could hull the berries, but that I couldn’t eat them just then as I had to get Rowan off to school, and check on Forrest and get him to school as well. Rowan told me when we left that the strawberries were weird and moldy.

After school got out Gran called while Rowan was at her house doing home work and asked about dinner. I said I would bring some sausages over. She wanted to make rice and a vegetable, and I said sure. Gran called later to say Ro was sleeping and was wondering if she should wake her up. I told her to let her sleep, as she had been seeming worn down. I continued working on graphics. Forrest asked if I would take him to Gran’s for a shower and I told him he could take one after dinner. Just then Rowan called and said she was feeling really crummy and could I come and get her please.

Forrest and I headed over. I let Gran know about the change of plans, that we would not be spending the night or eating there, because Rowan was feeling sick, but That Forrest was going to stay and eat and take a shower. I asked her where I should put the sausage. She said, very gruffly that she didn’t want them and acted quite disgusted.  She said I could give the dinner to the dog. I asked why she was mad and she replied, “I am mad!”.  I wanted to know why and she said it wasn’t healthy to eat so late, and said some other things about how late we eat dinner, and our schedule.  She had water on for the rice, just about to boil. She had made a stew using the leftover bacon soup, lamb, rutabaga, and some other things.

I apologized, said I didn’t realize she was going to do all that, but that I had to get rowan home and to bed. I knew For wouldn’t eat dinner there, but I asked him to pretend and placate her and that I would feed him at home. I felt weird about it, but I often feel weird about food, among other things with Gran. She has fed us weird things all my life, and I always had to eat them. When I say weird, I don’t just mean tongue that she cooked and forgot to peel before serving, but rancid butter that everyone insisted was fine, strange things pulled from the refrigerator and made into soup (this was very hit and miss, as it good edge up to great or be somewhat horrifying, one never knew until it hit your mouth). Now I try to avoid being in that situation.

Food, like everything else in my family, has historically been hoarded, and not necessarily rotated so that it is being used and replaced. Anything was up for grabs, not just by Gran, but her parents and my dad, as well. We a re well trained hoarders. I think it comes from both genetics, anxiety and training. I really do come by these behaviors naturally.

I realized that I don’t much like to eat, in part because I had very little control over what when, how much, etc. I ate the whole time I was growing up. I love to cook, I don’t much like to eat. I forgot to eat for five days once, in college. I am beginning to understand this. I think it is about control, as is, in part my hoarding behavior.

Enough, enough for now. Perhaps I will return to this another time.

Overalls my mom made, along with a Raggedy Andy, for me when I was 4 or 5.

Overalls my mom made, along with a Raggedy Andy, for me when I was four or five years old and no longer lived with her.

The last post, in retrospect, and just below the surface at the time, was clearly a fantastic example of avoidance behavior. I did vent a little, but I got rid of nothing physical, and what I did get rid of was done in a baby with the bath water fashion. Very difficult not to emotionally flog myself at the moment.

I panicked a little last night, as I realized my receipt for virus protection purposes was in the emails I had deleted, along with some other emails regarding a grant I am working on to try and garner some extra funding to send our middle school and high school choirs to San Francisco to see Wicked.

When I got home from choir last night, I found the deleted messages and began undeleting them.  I found the choir ones, but didn’t make it to the proof of purchase for virus protection before I went to bed. I woke up, logged on to the computer and found that the emails in the trash have been permanently deleted. There was a moment not quite of panic, but more of beating myself up. Then I stopped, as the truth is that venue is no longer available. Now I need to look and see if I have a paper copy. I had forwarded important emails, like the grant info and the receipt to another email account with less traffic, but they were servicing and updating and all of the email in my in-box, prior to yesterday was gone. Another moment of slight panic. The bottom line is this, I will figure it out, or I won’t. Either way, this is not life and death, it just sort of feels like it might be sometimes.

On another note, or actually the original note, I have been avoiding. I have been feeling overwhelmed with the process, with writing, with life in general. As a result I have been deflecting into busy work, and general avoidance behavior. 

Years ago, I fantasized about my house burning down because that, I thought, would wipe out the problem. True, it would take everything with it, but the upside is, it would take EVERYTHING with it! Most things can be replaced. What I found out when I wiped out my email in box,is that it is better to be selective and plodding, in overcoming this habit. A systematic way of dealing with all my stuff,and the accompanying tendencies is key for me to deal with this. I did not get this way over night, and I don’t think I can change, effectively and permanently over night.

The picture at the top of my post is of a pair of overalls my mom made when I was four or five to go with a Raggedy Andy doll she made for me with black curly hair and green eyes. I can’t find the doll, but I am not ready to get rid of the overalls yet. I may be willing to part with them later in the process, or at least find a way to categorize them, so I can find them when I want them.

I hope for Friday, to get back to actual boxes, and actual actions rather than theoretical ones. I have not been feeling brave, nor have I wanted to post photos of what my house looks like. I will work on pulling myself together for Friday and try to come up with a specific plan of action.

‘Till then,

Cheers!

-Pauline

Not pleased, my can't express what I cannot

Not pleased, my cat expresses what I cannot

I am having a terrible time writing/thinking today. My apologies, in advance. And generally if my writing ever feels in adequate, or off. I am quite dyslexic and on bad days I miss more. I have decided to do as little editing as possible in this blog, as editing, and the editing voice has a tendency to stop me in my tracks. I am writing fairly stream of consciousness. I have been and will continue to do so.

Having got that out of the way:

 

I am posting at the end what it took me to begin writing. I was going to scratch it entirely, but I think it is an important example of expressed brain function. I think that function is relevant to my hoarding behavior.

 

Today was a day of many revelations. I felt like my grandmother had been reincarnated while still alive, as me. It feels like I mean this literally, or it did at the time of the revelation I believe that at least figuratively, it is very accurate.

Okay, upon re-reading, I realize that need some explanation, or I just sound silly.

I realize I hoard in theory and in thought as well as physically. I hoard ideas, desires, aspirations, etc. I am clear that this may not be the same as the hoarding of actual stuff, but I am also clear that my, personal behaviors are about much more than stuff.

Yes. I do have emotional attachments to some stuff, but not, for example, receipts I haven’t thrown away, recycling, threadbare crummy towels, empty cardboard boxes and the like. Those things are more about figuring out what to do with things, acting in a reasonable time frame, making decisions.

I also accumulate things because if I can’t see them I forget I have them. I hoard food in response to three or four things. First is that I was taught the behavior by my father, his mother and her parents. It was reinforced in my child hood in moments of scarcity, and when my son was very young and we were (financially) poor and we lived, largely off of what I had saved. There is an over-riding lack of faith in plenty, or I the ability to provide which is made worse by the fact that I can rarely remember what we have in the cupboards. If it is behind closed doors, it may as well not exist, which contributes to the stuff every where part of my problem.

I hoard things because I inherited them and feel they must have some value to have been saved this long… then who am I to do something else with them.

I realized in addition to all of that, today, those same abilities contribute to my difficulty making decisions. Unless one choice has some sort of empirical data to back up it’s superiority, it is neigh on impossible to make a choice, often. There is a great, deeply rooted fear of being wrong, of making wrong decision, about career, mates, etc. There is also ambivalence. Unless I really care about what to eat, and I rarely do, What do I care what it it is? Don’t get me wrong, I love to cook. I don’t love eating so much as it is a pain. I ramble, I digress, I think attention span is part of the problem as well, not always, but often.

I feel at once fairly intelligent (there is empirical evidence to suggest this) and jaw-droppingly stupid this is terribly confusing.

I think I am doing nothing to clarify any of this. I will post it any way.

Tonight, I am getting rid of a pair of orange shoes. They are not the most comfortable, but they are orange, and I do love orange. Orange, however is not the best reason best reason to keep a pair of shoes. I am also going to get rid of a couple of back packs. They are clean and washed, but my kids have new back packs, so I am going to get rid of the back up plan. -In truth, not entirely, as I am keeping one with a leather bottom mostly for my own use, but with an eye to back up, I admit. Every year they wear out their back packs they are so expensive, it makes me panic a little, so it is a think I tend to hang on to.

Orange shoes and clean back packs awaiting donation

Orange shoes and clean back packs awaiting donation

That feels insufficient, so let’s see, what else…

A bed-skirty thing ( I don’t quite know what it’s called or how to use it. It seems top get in the way of the sheets, although as I write it occurs to me it should go over the box spring, of which I haven’t one at the moment. I’m getting rid of it, even though I’ve figured it out! Hurrah! A nice lime green t-shirt. Both items were washed today and smell, and are, nice and clean for the next person.

Green shirt and bed skirty thing

Green shirt and bed skirty thing

 

More… please stand by …

A poster of the Fossil Record ..

Fossil record poster standing by

Fossil record poster standing by

Wait, I like it a lot. Now it is on our front door, using double sided tape I’ve been saving (which I used earlier in the week to help make a graphic) and tacks saved from fly paper, I know odd. But I have used them!

Fossil poster up on door. My daughter started reading it just after I put it up. How cool is that?

Fossil poster up on door. My daughter started reading it just after I put it up. How cool is that?

 I’ve replaced the fossil record poster with a sandwich maker I got at Paul Bunyan for my son, as he had one and it broke in our move here. Turns out the boy has some sense. He says they don’t work very well (generally, and that it is easier to make a sandwich.

Sandwich maker as sacrificial lamb for poster : )

Sandwich maker as sacrificial lamb for poster : )

Okay, that’s it for tonight, long post. Lots to think about.

At least they have an excuse! They also store where they (and customer, I assume) can see. Worth a try!

At least they have an excuse! They also store where they (and customer, I assume) can see. Worth a try!

 

Whew!

Weasel says it best, again

Weasel says it best, again

Blooper reel (as it were) at the end!

Off to read submissions from fellows in my writing class. Two down x to go and comment on. Wish me luck!

I am generally and specifically overwhelmed today. I have half a mind to post pictures of every crappy little corner of my house, my storage shed and my Grandmother garage. While I’m at it I have half a mind to do the same with her house/possessions, etc.!

I think, And I vaguely remember thinking before, that my problem is not about stuff, or rather it is, but the bigger problem is with categorization, with life in general. I think my wiring is wrong. I want to be gentle today. I strive to be a gentle person, but it is so hard to be gentle when I feel sad, or frustrated, or overwhelmed. It is easier to be angry and chastising.

This whole day has been like this entry to a larger and lesser degree. I am especially dyslexic, having great trouble expressing myself, when I try to express what I am thinking audibly, I begin to stutter like crazy, while writing, I am spelling poorly, stutter typing and rambling like crazy.

There is some kind of psychological phenomenon going on here. Something deep seated trying to emerge.

I have started this blog, and re-started  it least four or five times this afternoon. I have had a day that was simultaneously frustrating and rewarding. I know, odd, right?

Holy Toledo, enough already! I am doing everything but writing. I can hardly stay in my seat. Must be uncomfortable stuff, right?

Hold that thought, seriously! I am going to see what I need to make some gluten free brownies. I must resist writing, a little longer, but I’ll be back when I’m done resisting. I am too far in the future and not in the present. Let me try to adjust my attitude!

I did, in fact not make brownies, as that is simply further avoidance behavior and so, I was avoiding doing it, and decided to come back to the initial source of avoidance.

I must go back to the beginning, of the thought, of today’s blog. There is nothing terribly earthshaking, or at least not externally. Just realizations today. and a heavy cloud of big voice in my head reminding me I need to get rid of stuff still tonight. To the voice a respond perhaps I will get rid of circuitous thoughts and feeling s of overwhelming  … what doom, genetic predisposition, theory … not sure. As for the rest I will dive in.

If you feel like you’re trying to go swimming, or that I am, and I keep dipping my toes in and backing up, I think that is what I am doing. It appears to be the only way to go forward tonight.

I feel like I am exposing big dark secrets, or bringing a monster, uninvited to a dance. -I’ve left the oven on as part of my previous avoidance behavior, I can smell it getting hot. I will deal with it in a bit. In the mean time, it can help warm the house.

Okay, again. Today was a day where I realized some things. The crazy thing is, as I realize them, they seem to evaporate. I feel more like I am exposing myself typing this than I have with any other posts or photographs, so far, and I’m not sure why. I think I am far enough into this project that some part of my psyche is beginning to fight me in earnest while another part is simultaneously cheering me on!

I took my grandmother to the chiropractor today.  Her appointment was at 10:30 with a FANTASTIC local chiropractor. If you are local, he is right next to the Glass Beach Inn in Fort Bragg. I recommend him HIGHLY!

In any event, the appointment was at 10:30. I was running late, initially. Or I felt I was. I got to Gran’s, out Dusty the house chickens out with the other chickens, then came inside, gave her her eye drops did her hair, helped her to the bathroom.

Wait, back up, before any of this (sorry for being disjointed, today you get mostly stream of consciousness, or I won’t post at all. Gran called just before 8 am And asked me, somewhat pointedly if I had over-slept. … I thought at first I was reading the clocks wrong, then I realized it might be her. I reminded her that we had planned on my being there around 9 am and that it was not quite 8 now. I still need to get my son off to school.

What really matters here is the shift in time at the beginning of the day, I guess.

. I had things scheduled for myself I wanted to get done, specifically, Two friends and I are trying to start a printing press for broadsides, small book, collections of poetry, journals, etc. I had planned to go over there this afternoon