Old Habits Die Hard Or Something Like That

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I feel like a kid who’s already been sent to the principals office and I need to write 100 times:

“I promise I will blog every single morning without fail.”

Ya right.  That is never going to happen.  Not in a million, trillion, gazillion years.

Regardless if my good intentions I will never ever be one of those morning bloggers.  You know the kind I’m talking about — coffee in hand, beds all made, dishes washed, first load of the day in the washer and most likely dried, folded and put away.

Nope not me — I’m lucky if I can navigate my way out of my bedroom most mornings.

I come from a long line of night owls. My great grandmother never went to bed until way after Johnny Carson had signed off.  Then there was my grandmother, she was most nights until at least midnight and then up at O’Dark O’clock to head to work — she did that for years.  Then of course there’s my own mom- for years she too used to stay up late.

So I don’t think I had a snowball’s chance in hell.  I’m a night owl regardless of how early I head to bed to in attempt to get horizontal and sleep.

It never works — I end up thinking about the events of the day, the headlines on the news, the crap I read on Facebook, stuff my kid does, stuff my husband does, stuff I do — and I always have something to say about all of that. And it’s usually at night.

Right now what’s forefront on my mind is that fact that my chair hurts my backside — I have tried like 5 chairs and I can’t find the one that I like.  They are either too tall, too hard, too short, or they don’t feel right. 

I remember when I used to sit on a kitchen chair for hours.  Not anymore — my constitution is too “delicate”  It’s the whole being 50 thing 🙂

Don’t tell anyone but I am also taking a stab making a valiant effort at being sort of vegetarian. Now before you all freak out and think I have instantly developed a conscious about the slaughter of poor defenseless animals in order that I can eat don’t hold your breath.  I am doing this for health reasons.

As much as I love red meat I am realizing it’s not the best source of food for me or my body.  So my diet is 70% fruit, nut,  and vegetables, 20% protein from tofu (gag), and fish, and 10% of my diet from other stuff – olive oil, low fat yogurt and the occasional egg.

No grains.  No pork.  No Beef.  No Poultry.

And guess what – I broke up with cheese.  I KNOW RIGHT!?!?!?!?!?!? Ice Cream and I parted ways as well.  Diet Coke and I got a divorce – in fact I sent all soda packing.

It’s been ten days – and so far so good.  I jumped on the scale and the needle is headed the right way so I can’t complain.  The exhaustion is gone, my mind is clearing as well as my skin.  So that’s all good.

The only weird thing is typically I hate pancakes.  I mean I loathe them.  I wouldn’t eat them if they were the last food source on the planet — they are just too I don’t know, pancakey I guess.  With the whole butter and syrup thing – it’s just gross.

Ask me what I have craved all week?

Pancakes — I kid you not.  I can’t tell you how much I’ve been jonesin for a damn pancake.  I would almost think I were pregnant.

Oh Jesus – slit my wrists now. Pregnant at 50.

 

AARP — Ready or Not Here I Come

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When I was 15 nobody told me that 35 years later I’d be experiencing the pangs of arthritis, fibromyalgia, constantly worried about my weight, monitoring my poop, being gluten free, contemplating becoming a vegetarian, enduring oh my God the worst hot flashes — ever!

So – instead of running from all of “this” I am going to go full tilt.

And that means — AARP READY OR NOT HERE I COME!!!

It’s February You Say?

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It’s February already.  Where the hell did January go? I ordered and put together a new chair and I hate it.  I don’t even know why I bought it.  But I did and now I need to make it work.

blech.

I continue to read blogs three days a week.  My commenting has stopped and come to a complete standstill.  I used to worry that if I stopped commenting those who I read would be angry.  Now I am not really worrying about that so much.

What’s bothering me lately is my lack of motivation to write.  I have all of these words in my head.  Lots of words – in.my.head. 

Thoughts
Processes
Feelings

They need to be written, and uploaded and off my plate.

Yet I digress.

My weekends have been full of “stuff”.  Some really good stuff.  Other stuff not so great.  It always works out but going through the motions is sometimes frustrating.

We have discovered, met and brought a new person into our lives.  We really love her, she’s probably one of the sweetest souls our family has ever met.  She cares about all of us — especially our son, and that’s the most important thing in the world to us.

Energy is flying in many different directions.

Many many directions.

Sounds…

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It’s dark and I’m in bed. The dishwashers’s doing its thing –the rhythmic sound of the dryer is calming. I can smell the Downy dryer sheets from here.

My husband who’s less than 18 inches from me is sleeping. His rhythmic breathing matches the dryer– kind of. It’s all very comforting.

The neighbors dog is barking to be let in. I don’t blame him it’s cold out tonight.

I must have not tied the recycle bin lid down securely as I hear an empty pop can rolling around on the deck.  I should get up and go get it but I won’t — it’s too cold outside.

Oh a coyote just howled – maybe we’ll see snow this week?

The owls are talking to one another as well.

Everyone’s got something to say tonight – even me.

Think the world will end on the 21st of December?

It ends for someone every day.

Oh Lindsay Stone What Were You Thinking…

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Dear Lindsay –

My guess is that you are having a pretty crappy week, and rightly so, you did something pretty fucking stupid.

As you know the  Tomb of the Unknowns  in the Arlington National Cemetery,  is one of the most sacred places in the USA, where respect, honor, reverence, and dignity is implied and most people get unless you have just crawled out from under a rock.

So I have to ask what the hell were you thinking when your colleague and friend decided to stage a little photo shoot?

My guess is that you weren’t thinking, or simply didn’t care.  My guess is that you did know before setting foot on such hallowed ground that this was a place of quiet, respect and reverence.  Much like any cemetery you would enter.

However, you made a choice to dishonor and disrespect those who have lost their lives in one of the most sacred places on the planet. 

And your poor dad I read that he’s appalled and made  the statement that “It’s not what this family is all about”

So now you have lost your job as well as your friend and co-worker who took the photo. 

I understand that your intentions may have been to make some sort of off color joke to your friends because you thought it was “funny” and yeah you have the right to behave anyway you like even if it means to be rude, terrible, and disrespectful.

However, let me try and explain to you why you are in the position you are in.  Do you even really know what the Tomb of the Unknowns is?  Well, The Tomb of the Unknowns is a monument dedicated to American service members who have died without their remains being identified. It is also known as the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier; it has never been officially named.  It is located in Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia, United States of America. The World War I “Unknown” is a recipient of the Medal of Honor, the Victoria Cross, and several other foreign nations’ highest service awards. The U.S. Unknowns who were interred are also recipients of the Medal of Honor, presented by the U.S. presidents who presided over their funerals.

While you might think what you did was not a big deal I can rest assure you it was not only offensive and rude it was incredibly respectful.  Someone’s son or daughter, husband or wife, mother or father, sister or brother is in that Tomb.  And as we as a nation don’t defend something like the sanctity of the Tomb of the Unknowns, then we as the people of the United States of America don’t deserve the freedom provided by those men and women who are interred within the Tomb and by those the Tomb honors.

What I don’t understand is that you worked for a company that prided itself in caring for one another.  You worked with special needs people.  I am sure you talked and taught self respect, acceptance, appropriate behavior, and how to love and care for one another.  Why is it that you cannot walk into a place like the Arlington National Cemetery and for a few short minutes and behave like an adult. And really if you can’t, then don’t even go to the Tomb, it’s that simple.

Now I get the fact that we as a country have become overly sensitive to just about everything, behaviors, language, opinions and thoughts.  Many thing we are politically incorrect than we are politically correct.  However, there are boundaries we have to follow in our society, and there are lines that shouldn’t ever be crossed.  And disrespecting the Tomb of the Unknowns is one of those lines.

I hope during this Thanksgiving season you take a moment and give thanks that you have a family who loves you and supports you despite your lack of good judgment and that you live in a country where your job is the only thing you lose.  You aren’t going to jail.  You aren’t losing your life just your job.

My hope you’ve learned a big lesson.

My best –

Jwoap

I Give To You These Violets…

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My Great Grandfather was an amazing man — my mother and father both have shared with me funny, sad, poignant, and rib tickling stories about Grandpa Charlie.

When he died he told my father that he wanted the following on his gravestone:

“I give to you these violets
in token that I’m glad we mets
I hope we may already yet once
again together get.”

And so my father above all is always true to his word indeed had his gravestone reflect my Grandfather’s last wishes.

My eyes get wet every time I read those words, as they make me happy.

He died the year I was born and I can’t help but think I would have adored him and he me.

It takes me a while.

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The whole Colorado shooting thing has taken me a few days to process.  Of course like many many people when I woke up to the news of the shooting my mouth hung open like a Grouper as I took all the information in about what had happened.

I was sick to my stomach and couldn’t turn away from CNN as I  also flipped channels like a maniac trying to get the newest information. 

So many questions I had — “Why why why”  “Who would take an infant and a three year old to a movie like that”  “What was a six year old doing at that kind o a movie” “Who was it” “What do you mean he said he was The Joker” “How could he order so much ammo?” 

I think I made myself sick asking so many questions we will never know answers to.

Then the media and idiots like Joe  Scarborough make blanket statements regarding the shooter — he says he knew it was a young white male, from an affluent neighborhood who is disconnected from society who probably has autism.

At that point I turned the TV off.

You see I know many many people who have autistic kids who are adults and who don’t go around mowing down people at a theater thinking they are The Joker.  This is clearly the work of an incredibly disturbed individual who has something more going on in his head than we will probably ever know. 

I have specific feelings about gun control that I am keeping to myself and refuse to engage anyone about, as they are personal to me.

We will never know why.

My heart just goes out to anyone involved in this situation, and of course to the victims, their families, and their friends.

Has our world turned into just a very dangerous place, or has it always been this way and we just know about it more because of the media.

So my Great Great Grandfather…..

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Was up in Port Angeles doing my genealogy thing and discovered that my Great Great Grandfather on my Mom’s side of the family was not only a sea captain but he sold liquor to the Indians many times and was prosecuted for it!

*gasp*

The story goes, that’s how he met my Great Great Grandmother, who was either the Chiefs daughter, or the daughter of the tribes medicine man.  He stole her I tell ya!  He stole her! 

The stories are getting better and better and better.

If you want to read about my other Great Grandfather, he was the Sheriff of Clallam County in the late 30’s to early 40’s and he was one of the key folks who cracked the case of The Lady of The Lake.

I just love history and genealogy.

Can’t wait to piece together my native connection — I feel a pow wow comming on!