So here's the scoop.......

Yesterday was the most intense day I have had in a very long time.

It started the night before, while M (my daughter) and I were still getting our hair cut, getting cheaper gas in Minnesota, and celebrating her incredible decision to shave her head rather than get a new do to support a friend only slightly older than she is who has cancer.

We got home to find that Cinders - the dog I "share" with L, an older man who is in Florida and we are keeping her until he gets home - had bit Sophie, our little cat.  R (my husband), had stayed right there while Cinders cleaned the pan he put down for her, but neglected to pick up the pan before leaving the room.  Oh, holy hell.  What a horror.  He got her in the face, and she was in not great shape.

I made an appointment at the vet for her at the same time as M's appointment in the same building.

My friend Sarah stopped by.  Now Sarah, like me, is a bit "woo-woo", and by that we both have experienced that Spirit is far more than any church wants us to know.  So we are sitting around talking, and she does some Reiki on Sophie.  Sophie was sniffing at her hands, and then turning away.  Then Sophie moved a little bit away. Then she moved another few inches, and Sarah didn't follow with her hands.  She kept her hands at a distance then, and Sophie settled down.  Not long after Sarah stopped, Soph moved back towards her, got on her lap, and curled up.  Sophie doesn't do that, by the way.  Not outside of the three of us who live here.

So my house was buzzing with energy none of us are used to having.  Which is probably what made the next thing happen.

R, M, Sarah and me are sitting there talking, and I felt the need to share something that even my husband of 22 years didn't know about me.  And forgiveness, along with many, many tears, swept over me.  And I no longer feel my stomach clench when it crosses my mind.  I miss my mom, but I know she is absolutely still with me - I've known that always - but to feel her forgiveness over this one moment we shared three years before she died was something I never want to forget.

Sophie's trip to the vet was successful, if not cheap in any way.  It could have been worse, for sure.  They sedated her and flushed out the sinus cavity, which helped immensely.  They cleaned up the wound under her left eye.  Sent her home with a feeding syringe, pain meds, antibiotic liquid, and told me to buy baby food to get her eating and hydrated.  Kept her in the cage for a while, until the sedation wore off enough we didn't have to worry about her falling or getting hurt, and she chowed down with Theo - her protector - wanting at that GOOD food.

And Cinders?  Oh, she was SO happy to see Sophie come home.  They touched noses and nuzzled.  Just do not ever expect a canine to lose it's instinct, no matter how much it loves the cat.

I have to work tomorrow, and all this excitement - in addition to some that is not posted here because this is public and it's no business of anyone other than my close friends - kicked my ass.  I'm being nice to myself today, and Russ is going to pick up some DayQuil for me so I can make it to work tomorrow!

It's Time

Time for what?  For me to start writing again.  I need it like I need air, and it's been years since I wrote anything other than notes to the school for my daughter.  So.  Welcome.

I had forgotten about the post I wrote here back in 2007.  Thank God Google remembers, or I would have set up a new Blogger account.

Instead, I just changed the name of the blog to reflect my life now.

I no longer wait tables, although I do fill in at a local place when they need help.  I love the work, and I love my customers.  But the hearing loss has taken it's toll and the job is more difficult that I can handle full time.  I now work as a merchandiser for a large company that services a route of stores.

I left the unhappy marriage in August, 2008.  I spent five years with my head in the sand in terms of his secret drinking.  And now, we like each other better than we had for many years before I left.  My daughter is 14, living with me full time, and I'm paying off the parental karma I earned back in the late 70s/early 80s.  Not funny.

I have a 20 year old son, too.  He stayed with his dad when I left and blames everything that is wrong with his life on me.  I cried for a long time over that.  I don't cry anymore - I did the best I could with what I had to work with.  This may also be part of that parental karma my mom said I'd have to deal with!  In any case, he works full time, has his own place, and he's doing okay.  I miss him, but after the verbal abuse I took from him in the last several years, I'm not offering myself up to be his scapegoat anymore.  He knows how to reach me, at any time.

I share a home with a man several years older than I am.  The generation gap is a challenge for us, but M (daughter) and I have a safe, beautiful home on 30 acres with a river running behind the house.  There are tensions at times, but it is good, overall.

Finding out who I am is a big priority now.  I've made huge strides in the last three years, but I gave up blogging shortly after I left the marriage.  Blogging kept me semi-sane for years.  I found like-minded people who understood me, and several friendships that continue in other areas of my life to this day.  It blesses me.

I can't tell you what to expect here, because I never know until my brain and fingers start moving.  I have a potty mouth at times.  Sometimes my fuse is short.  Sometimes I write of spirituality and my walk in that area of my life.  I am a Christian, but not a church goer - there is no church that fits me.  I love the Bible, but I love what Jesus taught more.  That is to say that I try to live as Jesus told us too, and I am not a huge fan of Paul's interpretation.  I do my "tithing" to local charities and shelters rather than to an organized church.

And I'm funny.  I can find humor in almost anything.  Ranting with humor saves me.

Scariest thing?  My daughter is just like me.  Heaven help us....

Peace.

"I Used to Wait Tables...."

The hotel our diner is attached to had a sewer line break on Tuesday, leaving our non-smoking room smelling less than stellar. It wasn't full on intolerable, but it was definitely unpleasant. So when the first of a group of seven comes in and sits there, I was was surprised but had no problem taking care of them.

When the next couple comes in, the woman asks to move to the back dining room because of the smell, which is fine. I help them gather their water glasses and menus and move them, explaining that since I'm the only waitress on the floor I hope they'll be patient with me running all three rooms. The woman says "oh, no problem! I used to be a waitress! Do you need any help?"

I assured her things were fine, I just wanted to warn them in case I did get busy. There was a sense of hilarity at the table, as some of them are regulars who I know like large waters. The rest of the group was trying to earn themselves large glasses of water, and it was just a hoot.

I got all the smaller tables taken care of, and went to get their order. I asked who was with who, because you know this is going to be separate checks! Former waitress is all the way across the table kitty-corner from her man, and we were joking around about that. I started with him, and then turned to her....

"Oh! I haven't even looked yet! Just a minute!" I'm breathing. Breathing. Waiting. She's flipping frantically through her menu. "I don't see waffles on this menu!"

We don't have waffles.

"Oh! Um...." More flipping. Nearly FIVE minutes of standing there waiting for her to get it together. I offered to take the other orders and come back to her, but no way that was going to happen. "Don't you have just, like, two eggs and toast?"

I looked at her man. "Are you sure she used to wait tables?"

The whole group laughed, including her, but she knew damned well what I meant. I assured her we could make her two eggs and toast, and got the rest of the table going. Before I leave the table, her husband asks for one pancake added to their ticket. Apparently, she decided she would have a pancake, but was too chickenshit to ask me herself.

Seriously.

So food comes out, hilarity continues, fun table. Her husband asks for two strawberry jams. Um, those were for her too. WTF? Weird.

I'm pre-busing, taking care of business in all the rooms. (I was so "on" yesterday, and that surprised me what with the holiday off time; usually after that much time off the floor I tend to have trouble getting back in the swing.)

She asks for a small to go box..she's got one slice of toast left and a half an over easy egg. Okay. I go to get the box, and when I come back the table is razzing her for that. Then she needs *another* strawberry jam to take home with her. Okay again.

On my last trip to the table to return a credit card, he asks if I want to know where she used to waitress. The table erupts in laughter again, and I declined saying I had food in the window. They were taking it a little further than I was comfortable with, and I was picking up vibes from her as well. Her husband left the tip on his end of the table, and she was paying the bill. On the next trip through that room, she gets up with the cash in hand for their bill, picks up the tip from by his plate, and gives me *part* of it.

Oh yeah. You never waited tables a day in your life, unless you worked for mom and dad or had kneepads on for the boss.

Take this, toots: I cleared $12 off that table, despite you shorting the tip your man left me. The ridicule was a bit over the top, but you damned well had it coming for claiming you used to wait tables then acting like that!

Peace, out.