Fourth of July Bash: A Story of Ruining It for Everybody

When I was a kid, one of the family events that happened every year was a 4th of July party thrown by my great-grandmother's niece. She and her husband both worked in the factories located in Fort Smith, which meant that, for around here, they had pretty decent money. They had inherited their home, which meant money normally spent on a home was spent on improving the one they had. They added a massive great room, big enough to hold at least 50 people comfortably. After a few years, they also built a pool.

This made it the perfect place for summer activities. They had a lot of parties, but the best one of all was the gathering they had on  the 4th. People would bring food. My dad's band would play.  Kids would play with sparklers and snaps. When it got dark, there would be a great fireworks display. Everyone had a really good time.

I didn't always go. During some of those years, I was out of the area, traveling around with my mom and whatever husband she had at the time. When I was a teenager, my interests were more toward spending time with my friends on the 4th or just curling up with a good book. Even still, it was nice to know the parties continued.

Over the years, things started to get out of hand. What began as a party for extended family and friends began to grow into something mammoth. More and more people would show up, sometimes people not even really known by the host family, just friends of friends of friends who had nothing better to do. As they weren't really connected to the core group, these newcomers never brought anything to add to the event, but they would certainly take from it. They would litter the place, clog the toilets, and cause mayhem.

The whole affair was getting more expensive as well. The hosts used to provide all the fireworks, but over the years, fireworks have gotten more and more expensive. After a while, they started leaving a donation jar on one of the tables. People would toss in money to help pay for the event. This worked pretty well for a while, but then one year, the donation jar was stolen.

My grandfather had gone over to help them clean up the day after. As he and his cousin's husband walked around their yard, surveying the damage done by the party, picking up the mess, and discussing the stole donation jar, my grandfather was told that the party just wouldn't be happening anymore. What had once been the most fun part of their year had turned into a nightmare. My grandfather said his cousin's husband was really sad about this, but knew it was the best course of action.

Like I said, this wasn't an event I attended on the regular. but when I think about the fact that it doesn't happen anymore, it makes me sad. This 4th party brought a lot of joy to many people. It is the source of a lot of happy memories for these people. And it was ruined by people who were never intended to be a part of it, people who did not care about it, and people who had no respect for it. Yes, that certainly makes me sad.

Elbow Issues

When I fell off the porch a few months ago, I injured my elbow. I didn't realize this at the time. I was too focused on the injuries that were bleeding or otherwise scary. It actually took me a while to notice there were changes in the function of my elbow. It's been slow to heal. I suspect maybe it was more damaged than I realized.

I've started doing some exercises to help it. They're not complicated or difficult. It's mostly a matter  of being consistent, and we all know how good I am at that. Still, I'll do what I can and hope that it helps.

Seriously, I don't think that people who have no pain in their hips or elbows really understand how bad that can be. It's nasty, folks.

Campfire Stories

There is all kinds of weird buzz going on right now about American Horror Story. Earlier this year, the whole premise was that it would be about a forest. Now some are saying it's about a children's summer camp, which still works with the forest theme, but certainly narrows it a lot.

The showrunners said they wanted to have a more tight and narrow focus. Honestly, I thought they did that last season, but if they want to do it even more so, I have no problem with that. It will be interesting to see what they can do.

Some people have problems with it being about children. I don't. Childhood is probably the time when we're the most terrified of the things in the dark and under the bed. When we're older, our fears are more grounded in reality. Adult fears are more mundane, but also more devastating.

Of course, this could all be rumors. I suppose the promos will begin soon. I can't wait to see them.

The Knowledge Spreads

I know I've talked a lot about how much I admire the yarn community and their efforts to improve the craft. Tonight I read someone else's praise and it just filled me with the happies. It's so neat to read other people finding the same joy.

In this case, it was over a technique called German Short Row as an alternative to Wrap and Turn. After reading what she wrote, I watched some videos and found it to be helpful as well. I felt the same sense of excitement I always feel when I find these things.

There is something amazing about being part of a craft where people are learning and sharing things every day. And yes, I realize this technique is probably old hat for some, but for those of us who are just now finding it and passing it on to others . . . ahh, how great that is.

On a side note, the woman doing this video was a Mormon. I love Mormon crafters. They usually have wonderful speaking voices and say the most adorable things. This one said, "I know this part looks wonky, but trust in the Lord and keep knitting." I couldn't help but smile. I wanted to buy her a t-shirt that said that.

We Get It

The person who posted the thing about 'the well-dressed woman on welfare' yesterday has deleted the post. Of course, it wasn't enough just to delete the post. It seems it was also important for this person to announce the post had been deleted and lament the fact that so many people just do not have a clue about the political point trying to be made. You know, basically, 'I deleted this post because you people just don't understand.'

No, see, I think we do.

The person who wrote this post, really, was not writing about politics. This was a post about envy and resentment. This was a post about anger. This was a post about making judgements based on how one views the world and everyone's deserving place in it. Were there political implications? Of course, but not ones being directly discussed.

This is another major flaw in our current addiction to personal identity politics. We have not only fused our personalities and actions with political ideas but also fused our personal opinions and non-political beliefs with a need to create policies to justify them. Just because one is offended by the actions or opinions of someone else does not give them the right to demand laws to change it.

The problem with the original post is that the commenters gave the poster tons of examples of times when they received assistance but also had nice things, usually due to the kindness of others. When people talk about stuff like this, I always think about my iTouch. It's an expensive little thing that was gifted to me by my best friend who didn't need it anymore. I'm sure when people see me with it, in my raggedy clothes and cheap shoes, some of them probably snark a little about how the fat woman has bad priorities.

It doesn't really matter. I don't owe everyone my truths and what they think about me is certainly not my business. The fact that they mire those thoughts about me with political intentions is concerning, but there is nothing I can do about that either.

It Doesn't Look Right

I came home this evening to see someone complaining about a woman who is on welfare who looked very well groomed and dressed well. The poster complained about how they couldn't afford to dress nice and how if they were on the government teet, they'd spend her money more wisely, on things like food and shelter.

I read this and just kind of shook my head. I don't argue with people on Facebook, but sometimes it's really tempting to do so. When it comes to appearances, poor people are damned no matter what they do. If they look too raggedy, people mock them and say they have no pride in themselves. If they look like they're up to everyone else's standards, people are angry because they are spending money on something meaningless.

In the end, I guess there really is no way for the poor to please everyone else, other than to just go away.

Fire Musings

Today was my first day of having therapy on Tuesdays. We're both hoping this works out better, as Mondays tended to cause problems. I'm not really crazy about the time (noon) but that may change as summer hits. We covered a lot in this session, though mainly the focus came back to burning houses.

My family has a THING for living in houses that eventually burn. Both houses I spent my under-10 years in are now burned. Two of the places where my brother has lived have burned. Oh, and the house they put on the land to replace the first house my mother lost also burned. There is a trailer there now and I'm sure it's just a matter of time before it burns as well.

Do I think there is a mystical connection to this? Perhaps. There are plenty of logical reasons why they keep burning too. There are a lot of evil arsonists in that area, for one  thing. For another, poor people tend to have to neglect a lot of stuff about their houses, like general maintenance and electrical issues.

Still, I can't escape the fact that one of my earliest memories is my mother telling me about dreams she would have about burning houses. It was an ongoing theme with her, and this was way before any of them did burn. Every time one of these fires happens, I always think about that memory. I think it was the first time that I ever felt disquiet.

Home Again

It was a very long day. We had to go to Tulsa for my roommate's appointment. On the way there, it rained and it was that kind of rain where everything greys out and you can't even see the lights of the cars in front of you.

I didn't freak out when we went past the hospital. I'm glad of that. I sometimes still have bad days about the whole cancer thing, but at least today wasn't one of them.

Needless to say, we're both really worn out. Recovery time tomorrow and hopefully back to normal by Wednesday.

Remembering One of the Worst Days

Two years ago today I found out when my appointment to Tulsa would be. This was the first appointment. The one where I met the doctor who would save my life.

Reading the post about this was difficult. At the time, I didn't know he would save my life. I didn't know my life even could be saved. I didn't know if he would agree to the surgery or if anything at all could be done. I was terrified and angry. I felt like I had absolutely no control over any of this and it was the most horrible feeling.

It was also hot and my arm was still split open from the arm surgery. I think this was one of those days when I was really at my lowest point. Probably one of those nights when I didn't sleep. Instead, I just laid there and prayed for all of this to be over with, one way or the other. I was so exhausted and defeated, I didn't even care which way it ended.

I wish I could go back in time and just give Cancer Me a hug! I wish I could just hold her and tell her things would work out for the best, after, you know, a lot of awful stress and the worst pain she would ever feel. I wish I could tell her that her that all the things mental health professionals see as negatives, like being able to disassociate and tune out of reality, would be the tools that helped her move through the moments.

Oh well. I know it now, even if I didn't know it then. Now I'm all emotional.

A Story of Epic Laziness

Once upon a time, there was a lazy woman who wanted some soup. She was too lazy to make her own soup and too lazy to even cook the can of soup in the microwave. Instead, she sat in front of her computer with her can of soup, smugly happy that it had a pull tab.

Alas, disaster struck! When she pulled at the tab, it broke away in her fingers, leaving her can of soup closed off from her enjoyment! The lazy woman despaired! What was she to do? She needed her soup! Well, she actually didn't NEED it. She wanted it though.

She could have gone into the kitchen and gotten a can-opener. This is probably the logical thing most people would do. However, it needs to be remembered that the woman was lazy. Walking into the kitchen for anything would violate this code of laziness by which she seemed to live. She had to find a way to work within the code.

"Hmm," muttered the woman to herself (or perhaps to a cat who didn't care). "I am not willing to walk into a kitchen, but what AM I willing to do movementwise that will get me into this can of soupy goodness?"

The lazy woman realized she was willing to move her hands and perhaps even her eyes. With this knowledge, she did what she usually did. She Googled how to open a can of soup when the tab is broken.

Several of the options weren't open to her, as they involved knives. The lazy woman wasn't against knives or violence, but she was against getting up and finding a knife. After all, if she went that far, she might as well just get the can-opener. She was also against bleeding her blood, which would more than likely happen if she tried to open a can with a blade.

One of the options involved beating open the can with a rock. Had the lazy woman been outside (or in a cave), this might have been a good method to try. However, the lazy woman made almost a religious point of being outside as little as humanly possible. Rocks were nowhere near her. This method would not work.

She was about to give up when she went to another website and saw a technique that involved opening the can with a spoon. A spoon! This was a wonderful thing because the woman had a spoon next to her. Not only that, spoons have rounded edges. The lazy woman, who was also clumsy, could still probably manage to somehow cut herself, but the odds were far lower.

With spoon in one hand and can in the other, the lazy woman rocked the tool back and forth over the thinnest part of the rim of the lid. She was careful to keep the can steady (so that it didn't fall or, worse, fall just when it opened and spill soup everywhere) and careful to keep the spoon's rocking as even as possible.

After an amount of time so slight that even the lazy woman was still willing to continue movement, the lid of the can began to open. As carefully as she could, she slid the spoon under the opened portion and opened it the rest of the way.

So finally, after a length of time (perhaps five minutes) filled with fear and woe, the woman was able to eat her can of soup. She was thankful for the internet that taught her the thing she should have known but did not know. She was thankful she had a spoon. Most of all, she was thankful she wasn't bleeding her blood from trying to open this can.

The lazy woman was also quite certain that if the zombie apcolypse ever happens, she might last perhaps ten minutes instead of two. All because she could open a can!

Cool Friday

We went shopping this morning and paid my car tag. When we got home, things were quiet and nice. My roommate still isn't feeling that well and I'm not 100% by any means, but it was a good day. I checked my blog from last year and noted that, again, it's cooler right now than it usually is in May.

Does this mean we're in for a cooler summer? It's possible. In some ways, that would be ideal. In others, we honestly kind of need a time when it gets so hot that the fleas go away. We're keeping them under control right now, but honestly only kind of. It takes a lot of work and on older cats, that isn't fun.

Oh! I also finally sent the baby blanket off! It's a few weeks later than I planned, but it's sporting a very cute border, so I'm okay with that. The important thing is that it was sent off before the baby was born. For me, that is an actual accomplishment.

I think I'm going to just be happy about that for a while. Looks like the meds are working tonight.

Days of Triggered Past

A year ago today my roommate and I had to go to Tulsa for one of his appointments. As we were traveling through the city, we drove past the hospital where I had my hysterectomy. My reaction to this was visceral and rough. It was certainly a triggered moment for me. I actually wondered if I was being tricked and they were going to take me back there and do more things to me.

We go back to Tulsa next week. It's for another one of his appointments and, again, we'll pass that building. I'm curious to see how I react. I'm hoping enough time has passed to where I can just not react at all. That would be for the best.

This has happened before. There have been things that triggered me in the past that I can handle now. I used to be terrified on curvy roads because of that wreck my mom had when I was little, but after a while, it wasn't so bad. Once I was driving, it wasn't really there at all.

After my childhood home was burned down, I was told it was because the water heater exploded. It wasn't, but that's what they told me.  For quite a few years after that, I would get really scared when I would be in a room with a water heater. This really sucked for me because many of the houses I had to go into had them in the bathroom. Once I came to understand that they weren't all going to explode, I calmed down. It just took time.

There are other triggers I've never gotten over. There are still certain types of men who freak me out to the point I really can't even be in the same room with them. I know it's irrational and certainly not their fault. I do my best to just avoid the situations.

I try not to think about this one too much but I have a lot of trauma about when I had severe sleeping issues. I would get so tired that I would be in pain and incapable of keeping myself awake. There are certain TV shows I would try to stay awake for and couldn't. When I think about them now, it makes me recall the pain of trying to stay awake and the sinking horror in knowing that I couldn't.

I get really frustrated with people who are on this bandwagon of mocking or ridiculing those who have triggers. They act like the triggers are indulgences, when it is the exact opposite of that. I mean, maybe some people are masochistic enough to enjoy having that kind of pain, but for the majority of us, it would be nice to be able to live without it.

Progress and a Bit More Progress

The old brokeass fans have been taken apart and put outside to be picked up and taken away. I suppose that more or less ends the Ceiling Fan Saga. I hope. I think those things caused us enough drama for one week.

The end result has left my roommate and I exhausted. Between the weather, the stress, and all the extra trips into the city, neither of us are doing that well. He has a doctor's appointment in Tulsa next week so the priority between then and now should be rest and recovery. Trying that trip when we feel like this would be hellish.

On a brighter note, the baby blanket is completely finished. The changes I had to make to get it to look the way I wanted have worked. It will sit folded until Friday when we'll send it off. I'm so happy I got this finished before she had the baby. I didn't manage to do that with the last cousin baby.

Speaking of resting, I think it's time for me to nap for a while.

House Drama End for the Moment

So Ol Boy came by and managed to fix the fan. It was a thing he forgot to do on Friday. It only took him a little while but involved getting the ladder out of the barn. This ended up being a bitch because the key to the lock on the barn broke and it had to be forced open.  They also showed up way earlier in the morning than my roommate or I really function. But it's done, so honestly, all of that is fine.

So we have a new back step and new fans. I would like for this to be the end of the house drama for a while. I have some plans I'd like to implement over the summer and I'd rather concentrate on them than on crap the house is doing.

No Drama

Heey I'm actually not writing about the house's various issues tonight! They're still happening, but the drama was quiet today. I think it helps that I got proper sleep and didn't have to go to Fort Smith. Mostly, I think it was just nice that the weekend was here and the weekend could be a nice little filter between bouts of 'having to do stuff' and other dramas.

One of the cats is having a lot of issues with her legs. We're not sure if it's the weather, a pulled muscle, or old age. Old age is probably the most likely possibility. It's heartbreaking, but my kitties aren't young anymore. Fourteen isn't extreme old age for cats, but we're headed in that direction. I'm really not sure how to come to terms with that.

I should go to bed before I start dwelling on that.

House Drama Part III

The drama continues and I'm so over it I can't even discuss the details right now. It just seems like all of our well-considered plans keep hitting snags.

Worse than this: My grandparents' house where they raised my mom and my uncle has been destroyed by the new owners. In typical fashion for houses associated with my family, it was burned. This makes me ache.

Better than this: My roommate picked out two very beautiful fans.

House Drama Part II

Progress has been made. We went to Lowe's today and bought the stuff we needed. My roommate realized we really didn't need a light on the fan in the kitchen because we have two decent lights in there already. This saved us some money on one of the fans. He was also able to solve an issue we had with the other lights by purchasing one for the living room that could have the lightbulbs changed without requiring the whole fixture to be taken off. YAY!

When our usual Ol Boy wasn't available, we both reached out to contacts in town to see if they knew anyone. His panned out. We now have a new Ol Boy showing up tomorrow to install the fans.

After getting the fans into the house, he brought out my rolly chair I use to help me with tasks. It's a cheap computer chair with no arms. Fat people hates arms on chairs. Anyway, I got the cement pavers out of the van while he got rid of the stoop. It was honestly a lot worse than we thought it was. Most of the bottom had rotted out. As he took it away, pieces kept falling off of it. We're lucky neither of us broke our legs on the thing.

When he was finished with that, he set the pavers in place. They're slightly shorter than the stoop, but I'll gladly trade that for the fact that they're completely solid. If they don't work out, I'm guessing it will because they weren't installed onto a completely flat surface. The concrete under them has a layer missing in a couple of places. If they start to wiggle around or cause other problems, we'll probably have to have someone smooth that out for us and set them. We'll see. Hopefully, that won't be a problem.

For now I'm going to assume it won't be and just be happy that one problem was solved.

House Drama

The house is going to need some work done. The stoop is starting to become dangerous and needs to be ripped out and replaced with something that isn't wood. We think we have a plan for it, but it means buying blocks and somehow ripping the porch away. Something tells me that will be a bitch. Then again, I guess I could just go stand on it for a few minutes. As wobbly as it has been lately, that would probably just make it dissolve.

The ceiling fan in the living room has been dying for a while now.  Somehow, it managed to outlast the one in the kitchen. Yesterday, that one just refused to work at all. If we're going to replace the dead one, we might as well replace the dying one too. It's expensive, but we need them. I know some people think they're tacky. Clearly some people don't live in a hot house.

My roommate called Ol Boy who usually does our repairs. Ol Boy informed him that he doesn't do house repair anymore. Which . . .what? Someone is offering to pay you to do work and you just don't do it anymore? Okay. I guess we're on the lookout for a new handyman now. Hopefully we'll find one soon. We need those fans in before it gets any hotter.

Storm Created Quick Post

It's stormy so I'll make this quick. Hi, things are going well, other than me having a slight bit of nausea.

Random Fact about Me: The visible letters on the keyboard that disappear for me first are A, S, W, E, and N.

Odd Humans

Humans are odd creatures. I don't even really say that in a bad way. I just mean that, truly, we're odd.  Unlike basically every other creature on this planet, we surround ourselves with tools and other inventions.

Just looking right in front of me there is a cup, a can, cup holders, scissors, a crochet hook, knitting needles, a tissue, a tape measure, a card and envelope, an iTouch, a monitor, a keyboard, a mouse, medicine for my teeth in a plastic tube, and all of this is sitting on a desk. Just, casually in front of me, are all of these inventions.

No other creatures do this. Trees don't do this. Trees just hang out in their tree lines and chill. Some animals have some tools, but nowhere near the number we do. In fact, a whole segment of our education is based on tool mastery.

I realize I'm not saying anything you didn't know or even anything profound. I'm just saying I find us odd.

Mother's Day Orphan

Tomorrow is Mother's Day and for the second year in a row, my uncle won't be here. It makes me sad. Seeing him on Mother's Day had kind of become a tradition. In a very real way, it made up for the lack of mother and grandmother. I'm not going to say spending the day with them was always fun, but they were who I had. Now they're gone.

So I feel a little orphaned. I feel a little abandoned. Okay, I always feel a little abandoned, but this time, I really do. Hell, even the cats don't like me right now! Hah!

Sinead O'Connor (who is her own massive can of worms, more on that later) wrote tonight about how the last person to really touch her was a medical professional. I'm glad I can say I'm not in that situation anymore. Mind you, few years ago that was true. Now I have my best friend's baby who gives me cuddled and hugs. It's like I may have lost my status as a child, but I've gained so much as an Auntie.

I do wish my mom could have met her.

Better Mood

We finished up the rest of the bill paying today. We're free and clear for the month and as always, that makes me happy. One less thing to worry about. We were maybe going to have to go out tomorrow, but it turns out that we won't. I'm happy about that too.

I'm in a far better mood than last night. I think maybe a simple thing like just getting some good sleep helped my disposition. I feel almost content. I would feel totally content, but part of my mind is busy wondering when the contentment will come to a blazing end. But that's just the nature of me.

Oh, and the lawn is mowed. That's always a nice bonus too.

Spring Paranoia

Okay, this is weird. I was looking back at the blog and this time last year, the North side of my house was being invaded by bees. My roommate managed to get them to go away. I'm still not sure of all the details. I just remember being pretty paranoid about the thought of the house being invaded by bees in a kind of horror movie way. Thankfully, that didn't happen.

Despite staying pretty caught up on my happy meds, I've been really edgy lately. I think maybe it's just the time of year. I don't know. There are some  trips to Tulsa that have to happen and I'm nervy about those. I keep feeling like things are going wrong. Paranoia can be a bitch. Maybe I'm just tired.

We're expecting more storms next week. Hopefully I'll miss them when I'm having to be out. I'm ready for some long periods of rest and staying close to the house.

Unexpected Election News

It looks like Trump will be the GOP candidate. I have to say, I'm a little shocked. I honestly thought Trump would drop out or one of the others would pull ahead of him. Oddly enough, that never happened.

This is a strange election. It still seems like there is a battle to control the two parties and their direction even before the general election starts happening. In my 40 odd years, this has been the strangest election I've seen.

Tony Nod

Hamilton was nominated for 16 Tony awards. That breaks the record for nominations and I couldn't be happier. I would also like to note that this the first year I have ever cared about Tony nominations. One more thing Miranda has made me care about.

I'm not trying to be flippant or willfully ignorant with that statement. It isn't that I don't like theater. I very much do. However, being from Oklahoma and poor, I have always felt very removed from the Tony awards and what they represented. It felt like I had no right to an opinion. Now, I'm so invested emotionally in Hamilton that I felt I did.

I think that's one of the real legacies of Hamilton. It feels like everyone's musical. It feels like it's open to all of us, welcoming to all of us, and there for all of us. It feels like each person who listens to it and watches it can understand that this truly is their story. I think it's one of the reasons why Hamilton is so popular.

Congratulations, LMM! Well done! I hope you win every Tony you can.

Post Blanket Blues

I finished the bulk of the baby blanket. It probably could have been sent off tomorrow, but when it came to weaving in the stray ends, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I was just kind of in that OVER IT place with the blanket. I needed a break. I still have plenty of time for it to get there before the baby arrives, so we're fine.

Sometimes I just get that way with projects. I get so intent on finishing them that by the time I reach the end, I'm sort of beyond the point of wanting to touch it again. I think it's why I have trouble editing books. It's something I need to find a way around.

For now, I'll just take a day or so to be away from  the blanket. Then I'll spend the like 20 minutes I need to finish it. Sending it off will feel really good.

Tween Weirdness and Enlightenment

When I was ten, I sat in my room near the door and listened as best I could as my mom watched the miniseries, Lace. I was utterly fascinated by this several part show, even though I only caught bits and pieces of it. And in the weird way that only the budding psychosexual mind of a tween can twist things around, I had this whole crazy idea about the plot.

In my little girl mind, this show was about a woman who grew up and got revenge on the three women who, as teenagers, gave birth to her and sold her into sex slavery. I imagined the whole rest of the story (the parts I didn't get to hear) revolved around all the horrible sexy things she had to do in order to get to these women. I also imagined it focused quite a lot on  their glee as teenagers in knowing this kid would be harmed because of course they had to be evil.

I actually had this whole little strange part of my imagination about things like this. I have no idea why. The things we imagine as kids sometimes see so far more horrifying when we, as adults, understand the grim reality of them.

Recently, I remembered this whole Lace obsession. I wikied it and the plot was only marginally what I thought it was. The girl does confront the three women, but only because she wants to know which one is her mother. She wasn't sold into sex slavery. She was adopted privately and the whole scandal revolved around the fact that it was such a forbidden thing to have a baby out of wedlock at this time. In the end, she finds the one who is her mother and they hug. That's seriously and disappointingly it.

Then again, VC Andrews didn't write this, so I shouldn't be surprised.