Ex-Friend Issue

Today is essentially going to be a rant post so if you are not interested, look away!

Anyways, yesterday, I had the cops knock on my door. They asked for my husband, Andrew. He wasn’t home so they told me that we had received a complaint about our snow removal.

A COMPLAINT ABOUT OUR SNOW REMOVAL.

When I found out it came from our neighbour to the left of us, I wasn’t at all surprised. We had had a falling out with her YEARS ago, and despite a brief verbal argument in the December of 2017, have avoided her since.

We used to be close to her, drink with her, go out with her, and helped her out on occasion too. However, she chose not to be friends with us after I had a mental breakdown and called Andrew (who was having a drink with her at the time). She heard me call her a bitch (which is due to the fact that she constantly tried to hoard people), but it wasn’t truly personal, I was spiraling.

She told Andrew that she didn’t want to deal with his drama (which is kind of what friends are for, right? An outlet to vent at). That was the final straw for both of us. She verbally attacked me after I had finished mowing my lawn, and I told her she has no idea what being a friend entails. (In the past, she had ignored us, because we refused to pick up orange juice for mimosas and other such events).

We have shoveled our driveway the same way, year after year. I try to do it in a way that very little would accidentally get on her drive way. There is only one spot where that is not the case and that is beside our garage. She shovels in a way that it piles up and spills through the chainlink fence. My dog has climbed said hill in the past to escape so now I make sure it doesn’t get to that point. (It is also blocked off as effectively as we could manage though windstorms have been known to destroy those kind of fixtures in our city).

I have only shoveled that area once this season and I threw it to back onto her property, onto the hill, as best I could. I believe this is what set her off.

Anyways the cops knock on the door and tell em about the complaint, but that they haven’t managed to talk to our neigh bour about it, she isn’t home. I told them she is home, she works from her basement and there’s a client car in the driveway. They go back to talk to her after talking to me.

For anyone who complains, it is important you answer your front door when the police show up to address it. They should not have had to walk back and forth plus it makes you look bad.

She tells them I threatened to kill her December 2017. That I drove over her lawn a couple summers ago. Blah blah blah. These are allegations with no evidence (though she claims she has footage of us driving on her lawn). We never drove on her lawn (to explain further, there is a grass median that separates our driveways, half is her’s, half is our’s).

The cops aren’t really concerned, only if she keeps calling will something have to be done. However if she keeps calling the cops on us, we’ll say it is harassment, because it is.

My husband also got a chance to talk to them, because I called him after they talked to me the first time. They weren’t worried about it, and even acknowledged she seems off.

Another side note for complainers, it looks better for you if you try to address the problem like an adult by talking to your neighbours first. She had said in the past she would talk to Andrew if there were any issues and she chose not to.

The end of the day, the cops seem to view us more favourably than they view her. It is also said that cops have to get involved in these matters. Our shoveling was not endangering her or causing damage to her property. She escalated it into a complaint without even trying to resolve it with Andrew (we had agreed in the past not to talk to one another).

It is a shame she has made this petty, and I know me ranting about it is petty too. I needed to get it off my chest though. I had been thinking of seeking a resolution between us through the means of a letter. I don’t want to be her friend again, I just want to find peace.

I clearly will not be doing that as she will keep the letter and try and paint it in a bad light if she ever calls the cops again.

What a winter it has been for us.

 

Last Breath Leaves

“What is the meaning of life?”
A teacher asked of me
In one of my vivid dreams.
 
I cannot recall how I answered
Though every other wacky scene
Of that dream is in my memory.
 
My answer had gone up in smoke
But it made me wonder
If the meaning of life, its purpose
 
Is hidden in our subconscious.
An answer secret even to us
But it tells us what is right
 
The meaning of life is ambiguous
different and the same
For every living soul.
 
Our everyday journey
Through chaos and sanity
Is the road to that elusive answer.
 
I believe it can only be known
When one knocks on Death’s door
And sees the purpose of their life
 
Just as their last breath leaves.

Please

See me?
 
On the sidelines of your life?
On the bench, alone?
 
I guess you don’t.
I guess it is too little too late.
 
Don’t you see me?
How hard I’ve tried?
 
I reach out, but touch wall.
I reach out, but hear nothing.
 
Have you been locked in a cage?
Pushed from another’s life?
 
I don’t think so.
I don’t think you ever have.
 
Maybe if it had happened to you
You would see me
Screaming for the keys
And you’d open the door.
 
But you don’t, do you?
 
See me?
 
Please.

Antiques,Wooden Roses, and Some Fun

Today we went to an antique market in Stratford, Ontario. They can have true antiques, but often times, it is a ton of collectibles and memorabilia. It is something fun to do and great exercise if you have a husband like mine.

Andrew loves going to these kind of places and wandering around at a very slow, turtle like pace. He checks out every single booth and inspects various types of things. He’ll light up like a kid on Christmas day at least a handful of times when we go to antique markets.

It can be brutally frustrating at times though.

I move at a quicker pace, peeking in at booths and I look for something to jump out at me. Sometimes it is an actually item that I need to look at better, or it is just a feeling. Usually it is a Cherished Teddies collectible that catches my eye, but sometimes, it is gems, marble, jade, or unique glass work.

While I run ahead, Andrew falls further behind. Unless I find a hidden gem, or something I think he will like. I will wait around then in hopes he will catch up so that I know he saw it. Whistling is how I indicate this to him, but it doesn’t speed him up any.

While we used to spend quite a bit at these places, it has calmed down since I have given him the lens of practicalness to view through. It helps keep the necessity of tidying and purging items down.

However I am reminding by a find this week that his habit of collecting can be quite useful (if we remember where things end up).

Years ago we were at a fair and came across a vendor that sold wooden roses to us. It was couple of years before our wedding, but we took their card (a little paper with info really) and stored it in a nook.

That nook was found a few days ago.

Andrew proposed the year after we found this vendor, and it would be two more years plus two months til we tied the knot. We both loved the wooden flowers (the scents you could add were faint and lovely), and we both wanted them for decorations at our reception (maybe as a bouquet too). However we lost the sheet and so we kept hunting them down at the fair without success.

Sadly we were unable to have those flowers for our wedding (though we were quite happy with the decorations we created ourselves), and it is quite funny to me that we found almost three years after we got married.

I have followed them on facebook now and will be able to find their services when needed in the future.

I guess it can be fun(ny) to have a husband who holds onto every tiny thing, and I’m glad I have him in my life. While he is working on that tendency, at least he knows I see its benefits from time to time!

Anyways, take care of yourselves and make sure you enjoy the fun that can be sorely lacking in life!

Silly Things In Life

It has been a weird week for me, I have to say. I have been restless and lazy at the same time. We have gotten some things done and are currently sorting papers (Andrew keeps EVERYTHING and it kind of drives me insane). But We have also relaxed a lot too which has been a nice change.

We have dropped off stuff as donations. We’ll end up finding more with time though. Thankfully this is where the restlessness has helped in terms of getting it done.

Andrew has a four day weekend so it will be good to get things done that have been waiting for a while. The trick? Keeping the laziness I have been feeling on the back burner so that it does get done.

For the nerds/geeks/whatever you prefer to be called, it is community day for Pokemon Go featuring Swinub. Andrew and I will be getting our steps in while hunting it, and it will serve as a nice break from the chaotic mess our home has become in orders of organizing it.Things get worse before they get better, right?

Anyways, I’ve been enjoying the silly things in life right now while contemplating where my book is going. I think it is pretty much decided that I will just go forward and revise/edit more chapters til I have to write more in. Writer’s knife has to be sharp and sure when making these kind of cuts. Thankfully we get to go over our work repeatedly until we are satisfied.

Keep trucking ahead, readers! Spring is in the air (or at least that is what I’m hoping)!

 

Sleeping Reality

Sleep is a sweet treat

Filled with delicious dreams

Sinking deep into my mind.

I tape over those pesky seams

 

The ones dividing me

From reality.

They are fantastical paths

Winding stairways so free.

 

I want to walk them all

Every oddball scheme

Every horrid thought

See the information I glean

On me.

 

Dreams are mirrors

Absorbing our image

Distorting, contorting it

Like a puppet almost finished.

 

I snooze the alarm clock

Again, again, again

Dodge the waking hour

For the dreaming one’s my domain.

 

Awake at last, it feels

When eyelids close

And darkness bows.

 

 

Failure’s Trap

Failure is just around the bend

Willing, Waiting,

Wanting us to burn.

It thrives on hopeless dreams

Time wasting as goals pass us by.

It digs a hole for us everyday

Hides it right beneath our eyes.

Sometimes it’s best to give up,

Give in before it hits.

You’ll think you dodged a bullet

But regret hits you real quick.

Hard to say anything

About the end game.

All I know is

Today I walked past Failure’s trap

And shook hands with a better friend.

 

[Yesterday’s Word Count: 660]

[Today’s Word Count: 1, 718]

*I have been struggling, I will admit, but today I feel ahead of the game, on the right path for once. I got a decent word count considering the late start I got to writing (I may have been up at 5 am, but dogs and hubby desired attention for a while). I put a dent in then shoveled. I had to eat at points like everyone does, but I feel good about what I got done today.

*The only issue? I have to decided if the couple of chapters I’ve written do what they need to or not. If they do, I just have to edit/revise until the next chunk of writing has to happen (which is 6-7 chapters later). If they don’t, I keep writing or look over what I’ve done so far and reassess. The choices.

*While feedback is nice, sometimes it is tough to act on or time consuming. I personally have a nagging worry that what I’m doing isn’t necessarily what my few readers were looking for. Time will tell though and I’m going to bask in my happiness for now!

Dig Deep, Fight Forward

Managed to be productive over the weekend. We finished the storage room (previously known as the small animal room), and are working on the linen closet now. I tidied the upstairs while Andrew slept, and he was pleasantly surprised.

However I failed myself already today. I swore last night I would wake up at 5 am, and I didn’t, I slept in. The late start has butchered my day. I had an hour round trip to make to get my one dog’s food (joys of feeding a prescription diet only available at a veterinarian clinic), and items to drop off at my parents, and brief grocery shopping to do, too.

This all meant I got home at 11 am, and my dogs got the latest breakfast ever. It means I had a very late start to a day I meant to be filled with energy and creativity. Instead I feel sapped of every ambition I ever had, and want to waste the rest of the day away.

I HATE feeling like that.

Forcing myself to sit at the computer is one thing. Actually writing something worthwhile is another. That’s the hardest pill for me to swallow at the moment.

The truth is I feel lost, and this blog post is simply a stream of consciousness.

I am unsure of what to post, and this fills the void in a rather lackluster way. I like the poems I write (some from imaginative places and some from the emotional truths of day to day life). I want to push past that which I’ve said before, but I’m stuck on how to do it.

Instead I post about knitting (I’ve started a baby cocoon now from soft rainbow/white yarn). I talk about baking with my mom, and other familial experiences. I have posted some artsy endeavours.

Why?

Because my life is random as hell and yet predictable, too.

The rut I’m in seems to be unending, and I look into my past to analyze all the other choices I could have made. I like to think I know where they would have taken me in life, but I don’t.

What I do know is, I need to find something that works, because I definitely love writing and want to do it for the rest of my life. The problem is, I struggle with my insecurities and the ‘normal’ life everyone around is living, the natural progression of their lives. The comparisons I constantly make about my life versus others is a waste of my (and your) time, too.

I need to find a way to work on my book, and shit getting done, too. Searching for distractions is slowing me down too much, and I’m tired of feeling like I’m failing day after day.

Good news though. Tomorrow is another day to make it happen. That doesn’t mean I don’t try and salvage what I can from what is left of today. It means I can pick myself up tomorrow and do what needs doing. It is in me after all.

Thanks for reading my rant, and maybe relating to elements of it. Any tips on what you do to overcome these moments are welcome.

Clothing, My Cross To Bear

My clothing mocks me

Every time I put it on.

It whispers awful things

And makes me wish I was gone.

It hangs from my shoulders

Or hugs my flabby hips.

It tells me how fat I am

In harsh and hurtful quips.

My clothing mocks me

With its drab and ugly shapes.

I’m too big for nicer clothes

Always drawing eyes that gape.

Okay, that part might be a lie.

I keep my gaze on the ground

Afraid of their hateful stares

That judge every single pound.

In the end it’s my own sight

I wish to dodge in the mirror.

It rips me apart each time

Feeling me with dread and fear.

I wish to change,

Start down that path

But in my way

Are mocking laughs.

You see, it starts with my clothes

The ones I put on every day.

They judge me harshly

And they’re always in the way.

I wish I was skinny, healthy and free,

But I don’t know if that will ever be me.