Ms. Ella Gonna Talk Bout Money!

My last post I waxed philosophical about money from the perspective of listening to wise counsel when your finances are the topic.

Today I post this song, written by the Beatles, sung by Ms. Ella Fitzgerald. The song says it all. Money can't buy me love!

Dig it! Ms. Ella gonna break it down for ya!






(I was just reading some of my older posts. First time I have done that since I started this blog and I thought to myself, I thought, you writes real good, sister, real good!)

Trying To Make A Buck

Not trying to mind anyone's business or anything but learn from me. Make a budget. Stick to it. Save some money! Being very laid back about money has gotten me nowhere fast. Oh it sounds cool! "Money doesn't matter to me that much." Tons of money doesn't matter that much to me, true. Preparing for the future does not end up in that category. Yes, there is a future whether you or I like that or not and it does finally arrive right on time. Folks tried to tell me. But, I was terminally hip and fatally cool (and that is a quote from a book...not my own words). I made jokes, put off paying attention to any sound advice from well-meaning people and here I am today trying to make a buck. I have retirement. I also have too many bills I created while paying no attention to the fact that I might actually live to be 61. Don't get me wrong! I am not angry. I'm cool. I like my job working from home. I can, however, be a warning signal to anyone who is as cavalier as I have been the majority of my life. I don't require much to be happy. I like my life simple. I would like myself a bit better if I had shown better judgement. It's the truth. No skirting around the issue. Folks tell us things for our own good and they are right. I didn't listen. Maybe I was in a psychological funk or incapable of making a life out of what I had chosen for myself. Even a blind person can hear the train whistle blow. I am your train whistle. Listen up when grown folks be talking. Or call me later for the number of the company I work for these days. They are nice people. O.K. Enough of my histrionics...another word for I tend to get a little carried away with myself. All's I'm saying is listen up and try things another way when people try to help you. that's all. love ya. mean it.

It is NOT Saturday!

Retirement creates the illusion that the days of the week are jumbled up and arrive arbitrarily. Many of them seem to be Saturday. Today is Friday and what a Friday, I might add. Even so I  keep getting the impression it is Saturday and I am way behind on everything. I am way behind on everything to be honest but Saturdays are the precursor to Sunday and I clean our church building on Saturdays. Today seeming to be Saturday has given me several mini panic attacks and then, to take the cake, I tried to download something onto my mother's computer that totally whacked up internet explorer and I was working on-line at the same time and trying to get work hours for next week and thinking thoughts that pretty much looked like this: *&&^%$  ((*&^^%. Two and a half hours of not knowing what the heck I had done to this computer were two and a half hours too many. As soon as my shift ended I did the "go back" to earlier today and everything went back to where it was before my exceptionally clever self sat down and created the mess. Oh my! I am not a clever girl when it comes to how things work. I believe I am spatially dyslexic and technologically retarded. That did not stop me from trying, mind you. And on  my mom's computer? What was I thinking? Oh yeah, I wasn't thinking. Actually my thinking went something like this: why not download this program while I am at work, on my mom's computer and don't have a freaking idea what I am doing. Things don't change much. I am stuck in the 5th or 6th grade or maybe even at 7 years old. During this entire experience I clinched up numerous times thinking it is Saturday and I am far behind the curve. My hair is not blonde and I am considered intelligent. Whatever! When the ball starts rolling down the hill it picks up speed,darlings, it picks up a  lot of speed. I'm just saying!

Short and Sweet

The pulmonary doctor I saw today is a man of few words, has a deadpan expression and asks questions to which he anticipates a response with little or no conversation. I believe he is a good doctor but reading my writing has proven to anyone by now that I don't do little or no conversation. I did today though. I met my match when I met this doctor. Fortunately I was working on breathing and feeling better and did not take offense. I  felt more like a monkey who has been given a strange object and is turning it every which way in an effort to understand it. I did not do the monkey thing and take a bite out of the doctor. I got smarts real good bout those kind of things, y'all.

Night!

Midnight and one minute. It is tomorrow. YIPPEE!

Struggling to get my breath. Doctor tomorrow. Another one. My body is an anomaly. (sure hope that is spelled right and used correctly). What I mean to say is that my body evades diagnosis while exhibiting multiple symptoms. I am a medical chameleon. My doctor is bewildered by me. Not a surprise. I have been bewildering folks for a long, long time. But my body will not give up its secrets. There is a suspicion that long term stress is the culprit. Even so it would seem that symptoms would reveal their source. yada, yada, yada! Fiddle-dee-dee! Lousy breathing sucks. I am beginning to think I have asthma/bronchitis that took two weeks to fully develop. and...WAIT A MINUTE...no more talk of my health. I am bored to tears with it, truth to tell. Folks are accustomed to me being physically challenged. It is yesterday's news.

What about the royal baby? Wasn't that precious? I harkened back to the days when I had my babies and I can say in all honesty that I did not look stunning when leaving the hospital. The royal child's mother, Kate, has a lot of nerve looking so beautiful the day after having her baby. 10 hours of labor and looking perfectly lovely the very next day. It isn't human, is it? I quite resent it. I admire the way she appears to be handling royal life. I wonder ( and this  is an aside) if she uses "royal jelly bee balm". Wouldn't that be delicious? Imagine the advertisements. Try to read that word the way the British pronounce it...can't spell it any different but advertisements and aluminum sound so posh when spoken by people in the king's English. So many people waiting for the birth of this baby with happy anticipation. Such pagentry and yet rather simple at the end. Of course I did not pay attention to a minute of it. No, I was too busy doing important things and thinking important thoughts,etc., etc. But, I won't hold it against myself that I became caught up in the wait and the thrill of it all. Beats learning that another politician is a sexual deviant or another 50 to 100 people lost their lives in a number of different ways. For awhile the sheer relief of good, clean excitement over a fairy-tale moment is fine. Just fine, indeed. I promise to carry the burdens of the world again. I won't forget the stream of tragedy and violence the press pours over us each day.  It is my duty to be appropriately appalled. I beg a diversion for a brief interlude of glimpsing the royal baby all cuddly, snuggly in his mum's arms. A breath of fresh air for one and all.

I am going to  take my cue from a certain little train engine I learned of in my childhood. As it climbed the little mountain and struggled to make it to the top it kept saying,"I think I can. I think I  can. I think I can." As a new day has dawned with me finishing my last work shift for the day and headed for bed the truth is..."I think I  can!"

No breath and full of sadness!

A country song about loss, suffering and disappointment would be perfect in this post. I don't write songs. Could if I tried, I guess! Motivation is low because my breathing is short due to one of about six possible things. This is not my first time to this rodeo. Unfortunately I do feel different from other times. I trend to the dramatic when my breath is short. My doctor said it is normal to feel panic when suffocating. At least I am normal yet one more time. No unique in this girl, no sir! If I do it I can bet it has been done. In case the reader does not know it, uniqueness is the lifetime goal of any alcoholic worth their salt. Yes, I am sober and have been for a long time...what seems like an eternity. Yet, the traits followed me through the crucible of sobering up. A desire to be unique and larger than life dogs my steps. So, imagine the disappointment my ego has taken to find out that anyone who is not breathing well feels panic. If I had the energy I would invest some time in building up my panic. My doctor is not fooled and, as a matter of interest, does not think I exaggerate at all. Rats! I am a lousy sober alcoholic. Dang it! What is a girl to do with herself when breath comes at a premium and lethargy and depression lurk around her. Depression is a family gift. A genetic predisposition that has caught up with me in the past year or so. I was arrogantly proud of not being one of the folks in my family with depression. Don't count your chickens before they hatch, y'all.

And then...old nightmares come back to haunt me. I thought they were dead. I thought that fiery hell was over with and done. But, no! There are things that appear to be dead yet can resurrect in a skinny minute. Throw enough fuel on the fire and it will blaze with that hideous flame flickering out setting everything it touches on fire. I have no control over this nightmare. It is not mine. The flames burn me. They frighten me but I am not in charge of the fire. I pray and ask my Father in heaven for the courage to wait out this flaming inferno. I ask Him to help me to love the unloveable in this blaze of hell. One more time I am standing in the gap asking my Father God to protect the ones I love. I ask Him to hold back the Evil One from my family. I stand in the gap with the grace of my Father on one shoulder and the dread of the storm to come on the other.

So, yeah, I have short breath and I am full of sadness but I can't write a song about it. Could if I tried, I guess.

WHEW! I almost posted that blog!

Last night I began a blog that was triggered by a pet peeve of mine. In retrospect it is the height of arrogance to believe that anyone is interested in my pet peeves. The word "peeve" is in and of itself enough to distract me from reading further. Nevertheless I was deep into philosophizing when I was interrupted. Thanks be to God! Were it not for the interruption I would have gone on and on for word after word explaining how I (the magnificent "I") felt regarding a volatile topic. Oh, spare me, from myself. Even I don't want to hear myself expound, pontificate and provide personal experiences adnauseum on the topic. I have no idea if I spelled "adnauseum" correctly. It means I could have gone on until I felt like puking, throwing up, hurling; you get the picture.

I am writing while surrounded by a multitude of tasks that beg doing in my home. My plan was to make a dent in those tasks today. Oops!

The day is hot. Southern hot with insects invading our privacy while brilliant sunlight threatens to blind the naked eye. O.K. You got me on that one. I am exaggerating! But is hot and that's a true fact.

Cleaning calls to me. Oh, goody! I can hardly wait. When, oh when, will my maid show up and insist on cleaning while I pursue my many interests. (guffaw!) That is funny. "many interests". Yeah, right! I am just going to start on my list of tasks without further ado!

Be happy! I could have pontificated on my original topic crushing your nature with the weight of my ponderous musings.

Done Been To Coon Dog Day in Saluda, N.C.

I ended yesterday's post with a mention of Coon Dog Day. We went to Saluda, N.C., ate breakfast at a small restaurant, set up our chairs outside near the edge of the street and waited for the event to begin. Our walk from the designated parking area left no doubt that today was about coon dogs. We saw a number of people walking around with their coon dogs in tow. A bit of baying went on and no small amount of slobber dripping from coon dog jowls added to the ambience. The rain held off for the most part. Small showers passed over. We stayed put as it has rained at some point every day since last Sunday. There was no way we were going to miss the bagpipers who were near the front of the parade.

People watching is a favored pasttime of mine. Sitting on the sidelines before the parade began was fun. Folks were walking down a long hill, up another long hill and, further ahead of us, rounding a bend taking them into the tiny village of Saluda.

The parade began. It was pure americana at it's best. There were the bagpipers, the shriners in tricked out hillbilly trucks, children pretending to pull a truck up the hill and doing a convincing job of it, many firetrucks, rescue squad vehicles and loud, blaring horns and sirens. The queen of coon dog day and the king of coon dog day rode by in vintage cars and the kids from a local summer camp marched, trudged and strolled by waving small American flags and tossing candy to the kids on the sidelines. Then, abruptly, it was over. On the way back to our vehicle we went down into this muddy little valley area and looked at coon dog puppies, hound puppies, and others. I practiced walking away from those dear babies at each stop. I am a sucker for little animals. The occasional baying from a larger dog caught my attention reminding me that no one in our park would find the baying of a coon dog acceptable. Drat! Darn!

The creeks in this area are full from the steady rains. The water rushes over and around rocks. I lived in these mountains for 6 years as a young teen. The rushing of the water with glimpses of rocks beneath took me back to a time long ago when I lived up here. Nostalgia filled me. I have asked God to bring me back to the mountains if it could possibly fit in His plan for me. At this point in time I have brief periods of  time to visit. This visit has been different. While I love the mountains and want to live in them I did not experience the yearning and heartache that I have in the past. I realized that I am o.k. with wherever I live. I have a preference but no obsession. This realization sets me free to enjoy where I live on the coast.

Tomorrow is Sunday. This will be the second Sunday in a row that I will miss attending the Intersection. I miss my church family. I suppose I miss home. Home is stressful and busy but it is home. This time away has relaxed me and I am grateful for it. God gave me a gift of a few more days. He knows why and I am cool with His decision.

I am sleepy. Sweet dreams to me and to anyone reading this blog! Jesus loves me. This I know!

How I Ended Up At Coon Dog Day!

Finally I am back to writing. I chose to work my butt off in order to earn money to have for a trip to the North Carolina mountains to spend a week with my sister. Actually the work began before my last post as I left for the mountains on the 27th of June. I worked my on-line job, cleaned my mom's house, power-washed her shed, helped a friend of mine get organized to move and a few other small jobs at my mom's. For my efforts, and with a serendipitious check that arrived in the mail, I was able to have money for my trip.

It is July 5th. I took the bus from near my home on the coast of N.C. to Asheville, N.C. on the 27th of June. The idea was that my sister and I would drive back to the coast today or tomorrow. I would be home and my sister would spend a week with my mother. Well....

My visit has been interesting, to say the least, and why not, I ask myself, given the quantity of "interesting moments" littering the pathways of my days. The weather was beautiful from last Thursday afternoon through last Sunday. My sister lives on the side of a mountain and in the woods. Her house is awesome. Her property is awesome. She has the spirit of an artist and the career of a horticulturalist.
,
For a couple of days she worked and I was at the house alone with the silence, the wind in the trees, sitting on the screened in porch watching birds feed at her feeders. The best part was watching a mother and father bluebird bring food to their babies nestled in one of my sister's bird houses. Her place is a retreat for me. On Sunday we went for a ride ending up at Chimney Rock. We paid, took the elevator to the top and climbed the steps to Chimney Rock where we had an amazing view of Lake Lure and the surrounding communities. Great time!

Monday the rains came to town. Really! Lots and lots of rain. Sitting at the house and listening to the rain fall through the trees with a cool wind blowing was magical. But the rain kept coming. It is Friday. I have been here 8 days. It rained Mon., Tues, Wed. and Thurs. I don't mind at all but my sister, who has her own landscaping business, has lost hours of work time at the peak growing time of the season.

Oh, I forgot to mention, the first night I was here my son called to tell me his fiance had cut her writsts and taken a bunch of pills. He was at work and could not leave so I ended up calling 911 for an emergency almost 400 miles away. I don't have to tell anyone that I was stressed to the max. Things worked out and maybe for what will be the best in the long run but it was a hell of a first night in the mountains.

Back to the part of us leaving tomorrow. Ain't happening! Today my sister's work truck was leaking fuel. Remember that I said she lives in the mountains and in the woods. Varmints had nibbled all through her fuel line. Official Ford mechanic quote: $1000. Shock! Gasp! Not good news. We picked up her other vehicle, the one we were taking to the coast, and my sister mentioned the brakes felt weird. I said that I had to push down on them hard to come to a true stop when I drove the vehicle so we decided we had better take that vehicle to the Ford place and let a mechanic drive it to check the brakes. Yep! You guessed it! The front wheel brakes are shot. Official Ford mechanic quote: $700. And, as if that is not enough, the vehicle will not be ready to take to the coast until Monday...afternoon. But it did stop raining today. And the power that was off at the house due to a storm did come back on today.

That's about it...so far. By the clock it is now Saturday. We won't be traveling 400 miles but I think we may travel about 10 miles to go to Coon Dog Day.  It ain't all bad now is it my friends?

 

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY 2013 FROM CHIMNEY ROCK N.C.