What we keep?

I am not a saver of crap in large quantities. I never have been. I never will be.

I don't save used plastic silverware from restaurants. I do not save jelly, peanut butter, or mayonnaise jars. I do not save deli containers or butter dishes (granted I do have a few for sending goodies home with people who are known to not return my Tupperware). I do not save coffee cans, milk jugs, laundry detergent, ketchup, or juice bottles. Nor do I save the little baggies that the shoppers guide comes in. I do not save the plates from TV dinners or the dishes from fast food salads. I also do not keep twistie ties from loaves of bread, rubber bands or baggies from grocery store produce.

I do not spend hours darning socks or restringing sweat pants that are 25 years old.

I do not have closets full of clothing or baskets of shoes that don't fit me.

I don't have every cancelled check I have ever written, nor do I have receipts from every item I have ever purchased. I never saved my first paycheck, every tax return I ever filed or every bank statement ever received.

I do not save empty prescription pill bottles or left over prescriptions of any medication that ever entered the house.

I don't posses shoe boxes full of ink pens, drawers full of stationery, or pad upon pad of paper.

I do not keep stacks of every book I have ever read nor every letter I have received or stolen from my child(ren) or my spouse.

I don't have stacks of brand new bathroom or kitchen towels that I never use nor drawers and cupboards full of bar soap and shampoo that has separated from its original consistency.

I do not have a box of dates that has been in my fridge for at least 10 years nor 3 year-old boxes of mac & cheese. I do not store bags or boxes of food in my den neither.

I don't save piles of empty cardboard boxes on the premise that I'm going to move from my 5 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath, house with a formal dining room, formal living room, family room and den where I pay over $500 a month to heat only 3 rooms...knowing full well that I have no intention of ever leaving.

Hi. My name is Gail. This statement is true in its entirety. I am the child of a super crap saver and the items listed above are really, honestly, and truly hoarded by my mother. I think of all of the things Edna saved of hers or for herself but, never saved for us kids. Some things hung around though she didn't save them for us. I think of all of this junk in her house and what we'll have to do with it once she's gone.

As a result, I don't save much. I always have my system going - Garage Sale, Goodwill, Give-Away, or Freecycle. I can't stand papers lying around. I'm constantly tossing or shredding. I don't give everything away, as Edna says. I do keep buttons and pins - like she used to. I keep a lot of sentimental things - things given to me, if they fit, if they have a place or I can make a place. I do have a junk drawer. I have kept my own goofy things too...a birth certificate to a Cabbage Patch Kid, an old corporate credit card with the Prince logo, and a dollar bill I won in a poker game. I sort through my goofy stuff time and again and see those odd little things. I go for the trash but, put them back in their hiding spots, not ready to part with them yet.

I've been converting Jeremy - who is a saver. His parents are savers, though different from Edna. They saved stuff for their kids. Stuff they thought the kids would want to keep. I'm glad they did. Jeremy's parents brought stuff over last night. I do enjoy going through Jeremy's high school memories with him. Clippings from football, cards from his Granny, pictures of him with an old girlfriend (I have only made him toss 1 picture of her!). I made him start sorting through the box after they went home. I always tell him, "I don't care what you keep but, I want you to know what you're keeping rather than keep everything just to keep it". I think that's a fair rule.

Like Jeremy's parents, I have saved for Jacob, only more than they saved for Jeremy - cards from the showers, drawings, birthday cards, cards that come for him in the mail, art from his therapy. I save everything for him (and I date them on the back) - my mom didn't do that for me. There is a storage tote in his closet that I put it all in as it comes. I think it should be up to him what he keeps. When he's old enough he can keep what he wants.

(After listing everything I don't save, I now see a huge opportunity for recycling here - and yes, I'm looking into it.)

***I found that we do have recycling in our area. We pay for it every year in our city taxes! Doh! Jeremy picked up the special little bags today, I printed out the instructions/guidelines, and we are now going to become recycling fools!

"Stray Cat Strut"

I had a few pets as a kid.

I had a white rabbit that mysteriously disappeared. My dad had a beagle looking pup, named Patches and I don't know what happened to her either. I had three turtles, Henry, Herman, and Todd that lived in a washtub under our deck. My dad took me to turn them loose in the 'tree tunnel' out in Eastlake. A few fish. Lastly, the Pomeranian, Frisky - stupid dog, Edna gave him away one summer while I was gone.

In Edna's house, bringing a stray home was absoluely un-heard-of. Edna wasn't a fan of pets. Especially cats. She HATES cats.

Jeremy's family, on the other hand, is the direct opposite. They always had pets. Cats. They always took in strays - typically the rattiest, ugliest of the bunch. Though I think I'm more the sap than he.

We have 2 cats. Both males. Brady (named after Tom Brady - former QB for Michigan, now for the Pats) who came to us from the animal shelter right before Jeremy and I got married. Brady weighs 19 lbs. and he's gray with white paws, a white belly and mostly a white face (that is as soft as rabbit fur) - he has a few little spots of gray that look like someone had paint on their finger and smudged his nose and chin. Our other cat, Woody (named after Woody Williams - a red haired, former pitcher for the St. Louis Cardinals, retired from the Houston Astros) is an inbred farm cat from my sister, Cindy. Woody is 17 lbs. with no hair on his ears, nose, tail or belly. He's an orange tiger with a face that looks like a lion. They're great boys.

Our cats are indoor cats - though Woody does occasionally escape in nice weather. I believe that in the city, cats should be indoor cats. On the farm, in the country, that's another story. We have sooo many outdoor cats in our neighborhood right now. At last count, I had 7. These cats are constantly in our yard, turning our motion light on, sniffing around. They poop in the sand or in my flowerbeds. It's driving me nuts! Worse, I hate to see the result when they don't make it crossing the street.

These cats have a club too. They say to each other "Go, go to that big brick house, that one right there. Look cute and pitiful. Do it! They'll feed you there. The woman, her mom wouldn't let her take in a stray - she has guilt. The big guy, he's always been a sucker for an animal. I've even seen him let spiders outside! I'm telling you kid, it's the place to go!"

This morning, I was leaving the house and looked into the back porch and scared the poop out of myself when I saw this little gray girl kitten, sleeping on the bench in my porch. She's just a little thing, in the playful, awkward stage. I've seen her a few times, she's from the new people - 2 houses down. She was all wet, she'd been out in the rain last night. Poor thing. Jeremy fed her. Jacob and I pet her and she purred. I called home to check on her - she'd eaten but was sleeping again.

I know feeding them, keeps them coming back and for that reason, we don't keep food out and we don't feed the wandering 7. This girl is just too sweet and we could never keep her. She's too old to convert to a house cat now. So we'll get her a dish of food when she shows up in our porch. And hope she always crosses the street safely. Maybe she'll get that mouse I saw out there. I know my declawed, sissified, fat city cats won't do anything about it!

Another wall

I finished another wall in Jacob's room while on my week off. The pictures above the window - on the the left is Jacob and Amber in the hospital, right after Jacob was born. The center is Jacob with his older half-brother, half-sister and brother. The one on the right is Amber with Jacob and his brother - both taken when Jacob was about 3 months old. I have a few others to add. There are also little 'hot-rods or rat-rods' amongst the pictures.

Close up of the right side. Notice our little play on a stop light here...red, yellow, green? That Jeremy, he's a clever fella.

And the left.

It's been a long time coming. It's harder than I thought to find just the right signs. We've scoured yard sales, antique stores, flea markets, eBay, and the Internet, looking for just the right signs at the right price, without a small fortune in shipping! Thankfully, I only have 2 more walls to go! I do have a good start on those walls. I hope to finish them soon.

My Bathroom

This is what started it all! A leak in the drain from the sink in the upstairs bathroom that thankfully, expanded to a leak from the bathtub drain before the plumber came. Talk about timing!

I was supposed to have all my drain pipe replaced and new water lines run in copper. That didn't happen as the pipes were more in the wall than in the ceiling. They would have had to tear out the wall in this bathroom, our den, the ceiling in the den, the bathroom upstairs, and the guest bedroom to get to the pipes.

The white PVC is what he did replace. The piece on the right, is where the trouble started.

And the gook from the inside of the pipes destroyed my walls. It also just reeks! My whole house smells like pipe gook! I have to prime and repaint. Not the plumber's fault, he was really good about covering what he could. I can't imagine I could keep it clean either while balancing on an 8 ft. ladder while cutting over my head with a Sawzall. Our next project is putting up a new drop ceiling with new crown mouldings.

The good news = my sink in the upstairs is now leak free.

Going Home

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there: I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints off snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn's rain

Do not stand by my grave and mourn
I am the dew-flecked grass at dawn
Where tranquil oceans meet the land
I am the footprints in the sand
To guide you through the weary day
I am still here, I'll always stay

When you wake up to the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there: I did not die

I came across that poem again a few days ago. It's one of my favorites and has offered me much comfort in the losses I have experienced. It also held the answers I had been looking for.

I've been concerned about my own death for a long time, more so since Jacob came. Where to be buried - if I want to. To be cremated? Funeral? Memorial Service? Something? Nothing? I've always been terrified Edna would step in and do the big church funeral and dress me in some gaudy white girly nightgown - or worse...a pink dress, coat me in face paint, curl my hair, and then stuff me in a silver casket! If you know me, you know I'd have to be dead to let that happen. I had to figure it out for myself before I was stuck in a pink dress for eternity!

I've talked to Jeremy about my decision and he has agreed to comply. When I die, I want to go home, to the city where I was born, to Manistee. I don't want a service. I don't want a funeral. I don't want flowers. I will be cremated and I want my husband, my son, my family, and my good friends to go to First Street Beach in Manistee. I want you to walk along Lake Michigan, left of the break wall until the water meets the cliff and you can't pass without getting your feet wet, pick up some glass rocks along the way and put them in your pocket - like I always did. Look up the cliff for the old car stuck in the cement - that's the spot. Tell each other your favorite stories about me, hug Jacob, hold Jeremy's hand, read the poem above, let my body go into the breeze and know that I am where I wanted to be. Come visit me at sunset, tell your thoughts to the lake. God creates a beautiful picture there every evening. Once you see it, you'll be back to visit me again.

Spring in Hicktown

So, we had our first 74 degree day yesterday. Yes, it was nice. Yes, it was sunny and beautiful. Yes, it was warm. Not that warm! I love to people watch on the first warm day of Spring.

I ran downtown to pick up some party napkins right after work and I saw these girls walking. Both of them wearing green striped tank tops, and shorty shorts. The one even had her hair all pulled up and a ton of makeup. Thankfully, neither of them had the horrible cheap flip-flops that had already begun to make their appearance as soon as the snow started to melt. Ugh!

And now - here we go! My flip-flop rant...I hate, loathe, despise and am thoroughly disgusted by cheap dirty flip-flops! I think they're gross! People - If you are going to wear flip-flops - wash your feet, cut your damn toenails, and buy a new pair once in a while! They're $3.88 at the freaking Wal*Mart. They come in every size and color. Splurge!

Back to my story...I picked up Jacob a little later and we came back into town to go see the Sheriffs and we saw these same girls again only they had picked up a dog to walk with. And apparently it wasn't as warm as they had originally thought as one girl had changed into jeans. Yes, two young girls in tank tops and one in shorty shorts walking past the county jail where there are always at least 5 rusted, dirty, half smashed cars containing 2 women each, or a single dirty old man, with not a full set of teeth between them all, smoking their cheap cigarettes with at the very least 2 dirty faced, stained clothed, messy haired kids climbing all over in the car, wailing and whining, waiting outside to pick up daddy who's being released from his night in the drunk tank. It's a great place to hang out or walk by while scantily dressed having your own personal heat wave.

We drove down by the river and saw one of the opticians from our eye doctor's office sitting on his deck in his blue shirt and shorts with white tube socks pulled up to his knees - I never understood that either!

I tried to talk Jacob into going to get ice cream and he wasn't interested, so went home and he drug our push broom, upside down, over to the neighbor's house and while walking up to Fred's, we saw the little Autistic boy from up the street running circles around their house - naked as a jay bird. His mom came out and caught him, drug him back in the house. Soon, he'll start venturing further down the hill and we'll find him lying in our grass playing with his cars - hopefully wearing Scooby-Doo underwear.

While at Fred's, the city policeman, Mel, came by with his dog Ty, in the backseat. Mel gave Jacob a wave and "hi there, buddy!" as he passed. A few seconds later, Mel was back with his lights on and pulled over a speeder (in an Audi) and of course, we watched the big action from Fred's porch. Mel swung back around after ticketing the young fellow and he waved again as he passed with Ty and her tongue hanging out the back window.

All this in a little over an hour. I love the first warm day of Spring.

81

I don't remember how old I was but, I was out delivering papers with my brother on my tricycle, he said I was going too fast, I didn't listen. I sped down the hill and crashed on the curb. He had to call my dad home. My father came in his white dress shirt and tie to take me to the Dr. and I remember him holding my head down as I was screaming, while they put seven stitches in my chin. I can still feel his hands on my head to this day...and the dried blood on his white shirt against my cheek.

At the visitation before my father's funeral, I remember looking at his hands again. It had been 15 or more years since I had seen his hands stretched out and crossed over his middle. The Multiple Sclerosis had curled his fingers to the point where his fingernails would cut into his palms (the home he was in put blocks in his hands to stop this). I looked at my brother and said "I'd forgotten Dad's hands. I forgot his fingers were so long." He asked me if I remembered Dad's crooked pinky...of course I did. And I cried.

My dad was an Electrical Engineer for Consumer's Power Company. He started in Cadillac (where he met and married Edna and later, Cindy, Karen, and Gloria were born), transferred to Jackson (Valerie) and finally to Manistee (David and I). The picture above was taken while he was still working. He retired in 1976. I was 3. He was 49. I remember going in to work with him a few times after he retired - I think he still did consulting. They always gave me a little carton of chocolate milk and let me sit at the head of the big conference table to drink it.

He loved to sing and he was good at it. He sang in the church choir and to me, every afternoon in the green recliner. I'd sit on his lap and he'd sing to me. Sometimes hymns, mostly just songs he knew. His favorite was Home, Home on the Range. I preferred Uncle Ned. I loved to sit with him like that and I'd pick at his crooked pinky trying to make it straight. I seem to remember he got his hand caught in a wringer washer when he was a boy. (sisters - correct me if I'm wrong)

I remember when I started preschool one of my shoes had come untied. The school was having some trouble with the heat that day and I'd overheard the church secretary say she'd called Web and he was on his way up to take a look at it. I wouldn't let anyone TOUCH my shoe! My daddy was coming and he would fix it! He did. He came down to my room, came into my class, and he tied my shoe.

I have a lot of good memories of my dad. So many more than I thought I had. I wish he was here to celebrate his birthday with us but when I see his deep dimples on his grandson's smiling cheeks, I know he is here. I know he's proud. I feel it - in my heart.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Some break!?!

I said I probably wouldn't be here but, I have to b!tch for a minute!

I swear...I have SHIT for luck!

The plumber came this morning...and left. The gaping hole in the bathroom ceiling isn't big enough. He was going to tackle the albatross of pipe maze in the basement instead, however both hardware stores charge like triple the price for what he needed. He'll be back tomorrow.

**The original plumber called Jeremy and said the job was over his head...he's bringing a more experienced plumber over in the morning. We've been told this guy will do the job for the same price. The pipes that need replacing are more in the wall than the ceiling with a tight space to work in. I'm thankful he came forward with that rather than tear it all out and say "Whoops!". At which point, my luck would really be for SHIT!

I tried to file for my unemployment...and couldn't. All of their records have my maiden name and an address from 13 years ago! They'll snail mail me a form to fill out and send back.

I checked my work email to delete some of the junk so there would be less to sort through upon my return...and found that the email containing my time card I sent out on Friday, didn't go through. I called the support person for my department. She's going to resend it. I really hope I get a paycheck for this week!

Speaking of paychecks...Jeremy was overpaid (something about an error in the tax withholding). They're going to take their money back with the next check.

Okay...I'm done now. Whew! I feel better!

The good news is my truck is finally in the garage for a much overdue oil change (though we found out it needs new tires!). I've managed to tackle quite a few things on my 'to-do' list. I've accomplished so much today and I still have 6 more hours before Jacob comes home. What do I want to do next?

Friday before Furlough

Next week is my week off - without pay. My company's plan to save some jobs this year. I'm not angry or upset about it. I think I'd rather have a week off all at once than to have shortened work weeks or work days. I can claim unemployment for my week off, and I will. It's really not a big deal. Jeremy has a couple days off and since we still pay day-care anyway, Jacob will be with Elaine for a couple of days giving me ALONE time! WOW!

I need to finish everything I have to have done at work before I leave this afternoon. I know, and I'm sitting here, blogging. I just need to do a brain dump before I jump in to this mess I've created for myself.

Actually, I'm not sure what will be more difficult, cleaning off my desk, completing my long list of projects at home for the week, or giving up my stinky, dirty, bad habit...again. I'll just procrastinate a while longer - maybe I'll find the answer.

I probably won't be out here next week but, I'll think of you while I'm cleaning my oven, going 2 days without water while my upstairs bathroom gets new plumbing, finishing the decor in Jacob's room, organizing my office/crap room, raking my yard - I sure hope it's warm, and organizing photos. I'm also hoping that if I keep busy enough, I won't have time to focus on 'quitting'.

Yes, if you haven't figured it out, I am a smoker. Now wait a minute, relax - I don't smoke in the house or in our cars and typically not until Jacob is asleep and I'm not like a pack a day kind of smoker. I'm maybe a 5 cigarette a day smoker. I've quit before. I quit for a whole year - and went back. What a dummy! It's time to quit again. It's the biggest waste of money - it really is! And I don't want to do it any more. It's just yucky and dirty and gross and stinky and yucky.

Wish me...I don't know what. Strength, determination, luck...something! I'll keep you posted on my progress! (no pun intended)

Old friends

It was good for me to get out. It's been a long time since I've been in a bar and enjoyed the uh, locals. Whew! I had forgotten how interesting people watching in a bar can be. The woman who had too much to drink too early in the night now dancing alone with the wall. The young girls and their new moves. The old/young couples making out by the bar. They even had a guy selling roses for your lovey from a white plastic trash can. The band was pretty good, though I didn't catch their name. The played a lot of the 80's hair band music.

As good as it was to get out, it brought back a lot of memories for me - the people, the music. I did really miss my old friends from my bar days. I actually, wished they were there. Lori, Kevin, and Joe...

We were always together in some combination. Sometimes all 4 but, at least 2 with 1 or 2 of the others to meet us later. We were an odd group but, it always worked so well. We watched out for each other, laughed at each other. We just had fun. We all graduated high school together - though we weren't all friends then. Lori and the guys worked together at a local grocery store. I'd been friends with Lori since the 8th grade.We were never jealous or possessive in our little circle, always making sure another wasn't left behind or made to feel like a third wheel. We stuck up for each other, we fought for each other, but never against each other. Until Kevin and I left.

Kevin and I moved down here. Lori and Joe stayed in town. We always made plans to get together on weekends and we'd all go out to the bar. Eventually, we grew up from our bar days and moved on...some of us. Lori has three kids and a great husband. She's still in Manistee content with being a mom and a Brownie leader. I still can't believe my eyes or ears when I see or hear how much of a mom she is! Last I knew, Kevin was let go or left his position with my company, married a girl with a daughter of her own - I don't know where he is now. Joe. Joe is only here in our memories. Joe loaded his pistol and shot himself in the heart over a girl he was seeing who was seeing someone else. He died instantly.

When Kevin and I moved away, the dynamic between us four changed. I sometimes think Joe just wanted us all to stay the same. At the time of Joe's death, he, Lori, and I weren't getting along very well. He was withdrawn and saying or doing such mean things - now I know he hoped to drive us away. We didn't know he was having problems with this girl or with his finances. We didn't realize his life was falling apart. He never said anything. Joe and I had plans to talk the morning before he died. He cancelled our plans. I passed him on the road later that same day, on his way to their cabin but he wouldn't stop. I called him later that night, to tell him I'd be in town all week - my dad had died that afternoon (Saturday). His mom later told me he didn't get my message. He came home from the cabin Sunday morning, locked up the house, and 'took care of his business'. His stuff from the cabin was still by the front door.

I was on my way back to Manistee when I got the news I'd lost one of my best friends. Edna and I had driven back to my apartment to get my 'uniform' for my father's funeral and more clothes to last me the week. We were just North of Muskegon, on our way home, when I got the call - Joe was gone. I spent the week making rounds between the Catholic funeral home, the Lutheran funeral home, my sister's house, and Joe's parents house.

I really did have a good time out on Friday. I'm glad I went and no, I don't relive Joe's death any time or every time I've gone out since Joe passed. It doesn't have a hurtful effect anymore. Honestly, this is the first I've thought about him in a while. I was reminded on Friday of my good friends and the many good times I'd had with them in the past. Things like Joe playing 'Smokin' in the Boy's Room' on his guitar - the first song I'd ever heard him play. Lori's long hair flying everywhere while she'd head bang to Metallica. And Kevin, doing the "Steiny Shuffle" as we called his 'dancing'. I remembered each of us counting how many drinks we'd had to determine who was more sober to drive home. Kevin and Joe's discussion on what lettuce looks like when you barf Subway. And how Lori called everybody 'dooode'. I think of those times and I smile. I miss my friends and I just smile.