Now that I've spent enough time driving my blood pressure up, it's time to forcibly redirect myself before sending angry texts to Chris, telling him to enjoy spending the day with people he doesn't love, hopefully drowning in guilt. Bitterness abounds this morning and I need a Diet Coke. At least I corralled it here and did not send it there. Yet.
I can't tell you about my good, self-preserving decisions if you start screaming at me. Oh, ye of little faith.
And really, I believe I'm allowed to feel what I feel, regardless of your approval.
And if I do make mistakes, try to understand that they come from a well-meaning, very loving place in my heart.
And try to excuse my sarcasm when I apologize for how hard this has been for you.
I'm sorry to tell you things that upset you. I have lost the person that I would ordinarily tell everything to. If I don't let these things out, I think I will explode, and an exploded person can't go to work Monday morning.
She's contemplating going out after Turk and Nikki, ultimately declined.
This was my view as I woke up this morning.
I called Topaz to schedule a Riley vacation and was invited to come spend a rainy day watching movies. I thought that sounded much better than cleaning and crying all day.
They fed me dinner and Diet Pepsi. I brought them some rolls, collected the mail and helped clean up after dinner. Elaine made me spicy, sumptuous cups of tea. Mike grilled me about the car.
"How much did you get it for? What's your interest rate? Is it a 4 cylinder or 6 cylinder?"
"It's blue," I helpfully offered. He giggled.
He updated me on his flashlight situation, which a running topic here. He gets large spotlights from Harbor Freight and uses them for different purposes: one is his perimeter light to check the property, one is to keep an eye on the dogs during their nighttime potty break, plus he always likes to illuminate anyone walking back up the hill after a late night boat ride. You can feel your eyeballs explode into flame under his flashlights. Mike always looks for bears, coyotes, or mountain lions before he lets the dogs loose because those are some very real problems around here. He also checks for deer or bunnies because nobody wants the dogs chasing them across the highway. And when Riley's here, he looks for owls. I always scoff at that one, but he says he's seen some with a 6 foot wingspan, and one that big could certainly try. Personally, I cannot fathom an owl that big. Sheesh!
So Mike had one of his lights taken apart because when he turns it on, it makes a ton of noise and then dies. I was cleaning up after dinner, heard the noise, and turned around to look for the radio controlled helicopter, because that's exactly what it sounded like. Mike showed me the little board and said it had to be one of the two relays that was buzzing... then he started whacking them with a fork. I laughed so hard. I thought my method of repeatedly smacking my mouse down and crying was the most impressive way of dealing with malfunctioning electronics, but I never thought of whacking them with a fork! Such intricate craftsmanship...
It didn't work, but that's fine. Mike loves an excuse to go use another coupon at Harbor Freight.
We ended up just watching TV shows instead of any movies because we were so busy yapping. We watched some America's Funniest Home Videos, which is always good for some belly laughs. Mike and Elaine both made dinner- we had some Chicken Cordon Bleh with rice and salad. Ha ha it keeps "fixing" b-l-e-u to bleh.
Anyway, part of my reluctance to come out here was that I had laundry to do. They told me to bring it. This picture is me using Turk as a folding table. He spent a lot of time kissing me and being curled up at my feet. Elaine said he was very confused when Riley and I didn't show up with the rest of the family during their last visit. When Chris adopted him in a parking lot in Dayton, his whole body was smaller than his head is now. He rode home in my lap and I put him inside my sweatshirt. He snuggled in so far that he ended up sleeping behind my back and I had to sit very straight the whole way home. We took him to Yosemite with Shannon that year. He rode around in my backpack with his little head poking out, attracting a trail of children. I named him and I trained him. He's 7 now. He followed me around during laundry, and when I asked if he'd be my folding table, he looked at me solemnly and stood very still. I got most of it folded with his help. :D
