What to say...

I've been trying to decide what to blog about. Up until yesterday, there wasn't much to blog about. It's been a pretty uneventful week or so. I'm hoping we've taken care of the bees. I was wrong in my earlier post...honey won't ferment, as I once thought. We had yet another beekeeper come out, and he reminded me of something I learned long ago...they find honey all the time in ancient civilizations, such as in pyramids. And, I also know that it used to be used as an antiseptic, so how could it ferment? He said the dead bees would probably smell, but they're so small the smell would dissipate pretty quickly. I'm guessing that there will be new siding and windows in the next year or so anyway, so the hive will just have to hang out for a while.

Hmm..what else. Well, I threatened a kid at work with bringing my mom into work and letting her beat his ass (he needs it!) He said "Yeah, right, she wouldn't do that." I responded "Well, she had no problem beating her own kids, so I'm sure she won't have any trouble beating a stranger." Shut him up for a while! ;)

Today, I went shopping in the Quad Cities. Didn't find what I needed, and bought stuff to make more jewelry with (because I didn't have quite enough!) I drove right by the dog bakery where I used to get Butch's treats...so sad! Just makes me want another dog even more!

The best news of all came last night. You all know what it is, so I'm not going to repeat it. But I'm so happy prayers were answered! And from those answers I have hope, which had kinda fallen by the way-side lately. Maybe Baby DeBo is LLC for all of us! Renewed, on this first day of fall...the way it should be!

8 years ago....

I was sitting in Room 203 in Main Hall at Carroll College. Ironically, the class was called "Sociology of Social Problems." I will never forget the look on Dr. Coons face...utter dispair. He dismissed us, and the rest of the classes were also cancelled for the day. I drove across town to catch up on some work, and tried to give blood, but the line was forever long. I tried to get gas, but that line was also forever long. I sat in my office and stared at my computer, listening to the events unfold via radio. I just remember hurting. Hurting for those who were trapped, hurting for the rescue workers who didn't know the second collapse was going to happen, hurting for the families who lost loved ones...just hurting.

"Why'd ya have to go and make things so complicated?.."

Hmmm...let's see. Where to start. Well, I guess I should write that I still live in the house I grew up in. No, I don't have a fear of leaving home, and no, I'm not a leech. I live in a town of 800 or so people, and there aren't many places to rent. I WILL NOT live in an apartment building in this town. They are nasty, dirty little places and have had to accept HUD housing to make ends meet. Nope, I'm not doing it. It's bad enough I live 1 1/2 blocks away from them as it is. Also, I have to stay in this town if I want to remain on the fire/EMS service...and I do, for now anyway. To add to this, my mom works from 3:30 PM- 7:00 AM, and my dad is gone 10 out of 14 days. Combine their schedule with mine, and we don't really run into one another. Up until last week, someone had to be here with Butch, as being alone for 16 hours per day wasn't really to his liking. Also, in the past 5 years, my parents have had various medical issues, and I needed to be here to care for them.

That being said...I HATE this house! Okay, I shouldn't say that. I will say that my parents have not done necessary things to "keep up" this house. I could make a list, but I don't have the patience or energy right now. So I will fill you in on what is bothering me the most. A couple years ago, we had a really bad wind storm here, and we were without power for 5-ish days. It was in the middle of August and it was H-O-T!!! We come from a family of farmers, so we always have tons of meat. Well, we almost lost about $2000 worth of meat, as the generators were having a hard time keeping up with the freezers. Anyway, my parents decided they were getting too old to be without power for that long, so they bought a whole-house generator. I should add that my father has, what I call, a lack of attention to detail. He bought the damn thing before he realized that the electrical hookup and the natural gas hookup were on opposite sides of the house...a ranch-style house. So we would need to run a gas line to power the SOB. Fast forward to Sept. 9, 2009, we are going to have the damn thing installed (after looking at it sit on the patio for approx. 12 power-outages.)

Earlier this summer, my mom and I noticed that some bees were going in and out of the bottom of the siding, right near where the generator was to be installed. We've used approx. 25 bottles of wasp/bee killer, but they just keep multiplying. My dad was just home for 10 days...6 days longer than his normal breaks...and accomplished nothing. Wait, I take that back, he did change the toilet seat...my bad. I told him that we had a bee issue 3 months ago, and 2 1/2 months ago, and 2 months ago...you get the picture. Did he do anything...nope. So, figuring that these bees are going to attack the workers tomorrow, I take matters into my own hands. I bet I killed 1000 bees today. I was so proud of myself, until I realized they just kept swarming. I didn't even make a dent. So I decided to do some research and see if there was something else I could do. I find out that they probably have one big-ass colony behind the siding, and the only way to remedy it is to remove the siding and clean house. I also read that you can hear them through the wall with a stethoscope. So, I get mine from the car and go into the laundry room to see if I can find them. I hear buzzing, but not from the stethoscope. THEY ARE IN OUR F#^KING HOUSE!!!! Apparently, they did not like being sprayed with poison, so they came inside. F#^K ME! Did I mention that we have wood siding, and whatever lame-ass carpenter built that part of the house didn't bother putting up drywall...just siding, insulation and paneling. Yep, f#^k me. And apparently, they are honeybees, and they are protected. I've called beekeepers, but they don't want them; exterminators tell you to call beekeepers. Envious yet? We have to get rid not only of the bees, but also the honeycomb and honey, as it will begin fermenting without bees to care for it...imagine that lovely smell.

So, tomorrow I have to call the insurance guy to see if this qualifies for a claim, then find someone brave enough to come take the siding down. For you Theory of a Deadman fans: "I hate my job, all of my rich friends, I hate everyone to the bitter end. Nothing turns out right, there's no end in sight, I hate my life!" Not really, but how fitting. I guess we'll see what tomorrow brings!

Sometimes...

So, sometimes I wonder just how much we can handle. And sometimes I wonder why we're tested. I know I won't get an "answer", per se, but I'm hoping that I have some enlightening moment soon. In the last few days, I have essentially been called worthless by the parents of two of the kids at work. And I know they're frustrated and taking it out on me. But that word is one of the few that gets under my skin. You can call me fat, or stupid, or ugly or any derogatory name you can think of. Being a big girl my whole life, I'm kinda used to just letting it slide. But don't call me worthless!!! I would never think of calling anyone that. Like their life didn't matter. Really? Really, you're going to say that to my face? Hmmm...what does that say about your character? But I'm wondering what I'm supposed to learn from this. Am I to learn to be more patient? Is there really something wrong with how I counsel kids? Do I just need to stop answering the phone, so I don't have to listen to bitchy parents?

Today was a day from hell. Literally. It started with a 7:15AM phone call from said bitchy parent. Not exactly how I wanted to start my day--pissed off (red face, rapid heart rate...the whole nine yards!) But I rolled with it. Made it through breakfast without any further issues. Went to a meeting, which also went smoothly. Then, well then, my day hit the proverbial fan. I had to wrestle with one kid and yell at another for not following my instructions the 1, 2, or 3rd time. I then had to take *Kayla* (the one from my April/May ranting) to the child advocacy center for an interview with the state police. I'm still not sure what I feel about this. It has something to do with inappropriate behavior of male adults, but she consented. However, due to ages, the offenders will probably be prosecuted. I feel bad for her because she was kinda taken advantage of (kinda not, though), but am pissed that my 7 months worth of counseling did not phase her a bit! I've been talking about protecting herself and not being around these kinds of people (who happen to be the same ones she claimed raped her earlier this year but she didn't want to press charges), and she obviously doesn't care...so why should I? Anyway, while talking to the officer, she disclosed some illegal activity her family is into. Then I remember she's only 14, and lived a much harder life than I can imagine, and no one has protected her. And then I feel like shit for being pissed at her.

In dealing with the aftermath of this interview, I was late leaving work. While on the way home, I called a coworker and was venting and my dad kept calling me. I don't like to switch over the call waiting, as I think it is rude. Unless, obviously, the call seems out of place like something is wrong. I just figured he wanted to know if I'd be there for dinner, so I ignored him. After his 4 time beeping in, I finally switched over. All pissy-like, I said "HELLO?," and he asked when I'd be home. I told him I'd be there in a few minutes. He said "Okay, see you in a few." Really, I clicked over on a friend for that??? Whatever.

When I pulled into the driveway, I saw my mom's car was still home and I knew something was wrong. My dad met me outside, and I asked what was wrong. He told me that my doggy, Butch, passed away about an hour before I got home from work. Shitty end to a shitty day. He was fine when I left for work, and even gave me a "high 5" before I left. He ate his breakfast and was okay until about noon. Then he started having trouble breathing and moving around. And he was gone before 3. I feel weird being upset, as I think others feel "he was just a dog." But I seek comfort in other dog lovers, as they know how much more than "just a dog" they become. Butch was my pal, my alarm clock, my meal-finisher, my therapist, my workout, my constant. I really thought he was going to pass away about 6 months ago, but he just kept going. I'm happy he's okay now (his legs/hips were really bad) and I'm happy he went fast. But I'm really going to miss him. We decided to have him cremated, which may also seem a bit crazy. We want to spread his ashes in the "forest," as mushroom hunting was his favorite thing. And he'll be cremated with his blanket and beanie baby duck, the only toy he really cared about.

What a f*#%ing day! I don't even want a do-over...just want to forget that it happened.

Here's one of the last pictures I took of him. He was sleeping, but he was making this funny face: