Change, perhaps.

Things here have been going fairly smoothly. My promise to myself "not to get upset" has had a great deal to do with that, I think. People may not be able to be trusted, all affection may be absent, discussing and listening reduced to matters of chores and the need for the vehicle, but life is just more pleasant without whining, complaining or screaming about one's dissappointments.

There's been the danger, though, of thinking "everything is fine." It looks fine (as long as one doesn't look too deep), it feels fine, (as long as one doesn't feel too deep)--so who wants to mess with the illusion? Doing so (accidentally and totally unprepared) is how I discovered the mess we were in.

So, I decided I wouldn't mess, but nothing would change until something changed.

But, the night before last, something did. He made me a sandwich. Not a sandwich, exactly, really, but a burritto. I'd just come home from my Bible study (Book of Esther with Beth Moore. Can't recommend her enough!) and the kids and he had just got in from their activities. The burrito could have been for anyone.

Sad to say, I don't think he's ever made me anything without my asking. In fact, he will often make himself a snack without saying a word to me about it, let alone offering to fix me something too. I railed on him for years about it.

So, there it was, all wrapped up in a soft disk of dough, dripping with melted sour cream, hot from the microwave--an offering. Exactly of what, I'm not sure. But I'm watching.

Please, Don't Panic.....

Life is actually fairly normal.

As the days are lengthening, my spirits are brightening. I still have no idea what's right and what's wrong, all I know is that decisions need to be made. It's a very weird situation to be in: viz., to choose to be responsible in what is essentially a moral vaccum. The existentialism which haunted me as an adolescent is back, though it is time to deal with it as an adult. (I don't say that lightly, either. I'm reading Diane West's "The Death of the Grown-up" and so many lightbulbs are popping off, I'm beginning to get a headache from all the flashes.) Thankfully, there has been a profound sea-change since then: I now have my Bible.

Anyway, one thing at a time and the moral precept of the moment is: Don't get mad.

as in: "Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife." (Prov. 21: 9)

I could go on, but you get the picture.

Hello, my name is

and I'm a ***** survivor.

I remember once being in a class for ***** survivors and being told to celebrate the fact I had survived. As is my wont, I had to question the instructor: what did she mean "survived"? Because, you see, I hadn't survived well. There had been a train wreck. My reactions to the train wreck had sparked other perhaps even worse situations and events. It all had most definitely not gone well: and yet, here was I to celebrate?

Well, yes, it seemed I was. Anything short of death itself was a cause for celebration: a reason to supposedly feel good about oneself to begin the long, slow, tortuous climb back to good mental health.

I can see the point, really I can. It is essential to focus on the one working limb when all the others are broken and the train is lying on top of you. But, unfortunately, it glosses over the "how." For, though you may not have a choice about the train wreck happening to you: you do have control over how you handle it, if not right away, then, some day, eventually, yes. There comes a day when you wake up and say, "no matter how I got here; today, this day, this life, right now and tomorrow, this is my responsibility (and no one else's)."

So, the question before me today is: What's beyond mere survival? Merely surviving my current situation isn't going to be enough. I have to survive it well. And what does that mean? What counts as "success"?

I haven't a clue.

I haven't a clue.
(did I say that loudly enough for you?)

The frustrating thing about this whole mess is that I desperately need to talk to friends: and it isn't anything I can discuss publicly.

I apologise to you.

And that is why the blog has been quiet.

Simple Woman's Daybook.

Outside my window... There is wind. There is light snow. There is a lot of squinty white light. It's bright.

I am thinking... about getting old, marriage, divorce, babies, communication, motherhood, obedience, doing dishes.

I am thankful for... coffee.

From the learning rooms... I have to type up the schedule for this week and run off our Latin worksheets.

From the kitchen... I roasted a BIG piece of cow meat yesterday in the oven. It had been in the freezer 14 months. It turned out edible, even delicious. Surprisingly.

I am wearing... jeans, an eggplant purple turtleneck, runners and socks. A matching sweater coat.

I am creating...very, very little.

I am going... to go to Blockbuster and pick up Discs two and three of Lost, Season 4.

I am reading... The Art of the Public Grovel by Susan Wise Bauer

I am hoping... the husband gets lots and lots of rest on this, his week off.

I am hearing... the sounds of a really bad kids Christmas movie from the living room.

Around the house...I have a bit of picking up to do.

One of my favorite things... is listening to silence (of which there is precious little).

A few plans for the rest of the week: to stay calm and unfrazzled.

Here is picture thought I am sharing... (it was my birthday a few days ago).



Meme from The Simple Woman's Daybook

Oh, Finally....

Look, it's warming up for a few days:!!!

Sun
-9°C
-10°C

Mon
-2°C
-10°C

Tue
-7°C
-16°C

Wed
-18°C
-21°C

I CANNOT tell you how frustrated I am. It's not just the cold, but the fact that with this weight, I have NO CLOTHES! I'm wearing four layers on top--four very snug layers which won't stay put--and I cannot handle this discomfort anymore.

Did you know that fat people can't put their arms in front of their bodies? It's true. Never mind airplane seats--computer keyboards are too small.

If it weren't for the fact that
1) it hasn't been warmer than -20 since I don't know when, (the dog is even refusing to go outside!)
and
2) the kids have been sick during the holidays,
and
3) I hate walking alone in the dark,
and
4) I hate driving in the dark,
and
5) the sun doesn't rise until 9 am (long after the husband has gone to work), and
6) the sun sets at about 4 (before the husband gets home)

I would be out there excercising!

WHAT am I going to do?
**********************

In other news: my sister plans to begin the process of signing custody of her son over to my mother on Monday. (We'll see if that actually happens. She's been spending the last week pretty depressed and unhappy, not surprisingly. Pray she can screw her courage to the sticking place to do this extremely difficult and selfless thing.)

He will be coming to us while my Mom works during either the morning or afternoon, Monday to Friday, Saturday afternoons and Monday evenings.

Resolution 1

This:

Every night before bed. (Please).

Believe it or not, this is the first time I have gone to bed since before Christmas Eve with the dishes DONE. You remember how down I was about Christmas? Well, I dragged my energy together enough to clean for Christmas Eve dinner and make the tortiere (which is a bigger deal than it seems cause it means cleaning every single dish to roll out the pastry and finding a home for every scrap of paper so I can set the table).

And what happens is what happens every year, though I usually forget. My mother arrives 20 minutes before Church service. This year we had actually decided not to bother with Church--the decision had been made for all of 5 minutes when the husband got home, rushed inside and demanded why we all weren't ready. So, we went. Mom took the kids in her car (including the birthday boy, my one year old-that-day nephew) and the husband and I hoofed it the few blocks through the iceberg.

After service, Mom picks up my sister and returns for dinner. We eat. We have the ice cream cake she brought for her son's birthday. They leave. Mom offered to help with dishes--she even told me to let her pack them up and take them to her place so she could put them in her dishwasher.

She gets points for effort.

So, it's over. It's finally over.

And time to begin anew.

No Ho Ho Ho

I'm. Just. Not. Into. It.

I usually do a picture of the kids and a yearly newsletter for all the relatives. I haven't got it done yet this year. I can't even get my head to remember to take the picture.

As well, I also do the calendar for my mom, my mother-in-law and my Grandmother. Can't get my head into that either. (And that's a big project: it can take a week of solid work).

It is the day before Christmas Eve. I am in the process of cleaning up the kitchen and thought once I got the table cleared I could switch out the nasty cloth on there now with the Christmas one.
Can't find it.

I was going to get started on the Tortiere today.
Somehow, it all just seems too difficult.

This weight makes it hard to move, I've been meaning to get to the chiropractor for about two weeks, and I'm exhausted with the cold and short days.

Merry Humbug.