...and it makes me wonder.

My baby boy is going through a break up.  He is 16, 6 foot 4, blue eyed, soft hearted, and torn apart.  Momma no likey.  At all. 

Normally I would go all mother hen and be irate at the young lady who did the damage.  But I can't.  See, I knew her, and wanted the best for those two kids.  Before we moved, I cried to my husband like a baby because we were tearing them apart.  I wanted her to come with us.  I still wish she was here.  She was about the age that the baby I lost shortly after I had Jacob would have been.  I couldn't help but look at her and wonder if my daughter (I thought the baby was a girl.  I never got to know) would have been like her.  So I guess I latched on a little too strongly and put the cart before the horse.

Distance is a hard thing.  Especially for two young people.  I'm so sorry it went this way. 

Seeing him go through this stirs up so many emotions.  Mostly it takes me back to my first love.  That past I keep trying to run from?  It all began with him.  He took everything I was willing to give, broke me, betrayed me, and played with me like a cat toy for as long as he could.  I was a baby.  I went from playing with toys, to kissing this boy.  I was over the moon.  I was an idiot.  The worst part?  He broadcasted everything that went on between us, and gave me a reputation that I could not escape, and eventually gave in to.  Hey, if everyone tells you that you are trash, and they treat you like it, maybe you ARE it.  Right? 

What would I go back and tell the girl of 13 who hated herself everyday?  Who slumped her shoulders.  Failed her classes.  Wanted to be seen, yet wanted to hide.  What would I tell that broken girl?   I would hug her, tight.  I would cry hot tears and tell her she was NOT who "they" said she was.  I would tell her to hold her head up high.  I would tell her not try to find love around every corner.  I would tell her of the mommy she was to become.  The things she will get done.  I would tell her..."You ARE loved." 

I never went to a prom.  It was like I was radioactive.  I felt like an ugly creature that annoyed everyone.  Some days, most days, I would lash out by being provocative, being comical, or appearing crazy.  None of it worked.  I cried myself to sleep a lot of nights.  I wished I was dead many more.

They say you never forget your first love.  No, you don't.  Unfortunately.  The hardest thing I have had to tell my son, is that the only way to get through it is to go through it.  Mom can't make it go away. 

Although I made a bad choice, I would not change it.  That tough road led me to who I am today.  If I changed one thing, I might not have my three precious boys.  One might think that all those years of feeling trampled down would have destroyed my faith.  Folks, my faith is why I am standing here.   I don't know how people do it without God.  I really don't. 

I don't know what happened to the guy.  I don't want to know.  I wish him well where ever he is.  I do wonder sometimes if he ever had kids.  Did he have a little girl?  And when she turned 13 did he think about what he did to me?

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Down on PawPaw's Farm

Today I will lead you on a tour of PawPaw Clements' farm.  This is where we are currently residing.  I hope by the end of this you will not judge me too harshly.  For my environmentalist friends I have a stern warning:  This is not for the faint of heart.  If a trashy beach made the Indian cry, this will make him tear off his garments and shave his head.  Now that we have settled that, let us brave folks move forward.  Let the healing begin.

This is the house.  Well, it's the part I find amazing.  This chimney is HUGE.  Jon's dad did all rock work on the house.  This picture does not convey the cute country charm.  Jon had to patch up the wide open holes on the side of the house with what we had available during the snow storm.  Hence, the metal, towels and bricks.  I forgot to snap a picture of the house, so I used this one.  It's also the only angle that doesn't show all of our crap that's still on the porch.

This is building number one.  It doesn't have a name.  "You know the little cement block building that's full of canned goods"  That's what we call it.  Boy, is it full of canned goods.  Why are they called canned goods when it's all in jars?  Hmmmmm.

This is the dinner bell.  At least I think it is.  It may have been the bell that called the cows home, I don't know.  The string is our effort to work the post back up to a straight position.  Not working.  I want to have it sandblasted and restore it to its former glory.  Okay-I just want to ring it at dinner time, I confess.

This is shed number one.  Cars and trucks are supposed to go in here, but it is full of junk.  Crazy junk.

Like this....

....and this.  That is just a glimpse of what fills every corner of the shed.  Not kid friendly.  Not pet friendly.  We'll get to the pet friendly part next.

Oh!  Here is where Fatman went!!  Play horsie on this big 'un and you might get an unexpected trip to the moon!

This is the Honey House.  This could easily be converted into a small home.  It is the most efficiently built item on the farm.  PawPaw kept bees. This was the newest building to house all the jars of honey.  Currently it houses lots of junk, canned food, pool tables, furniture that no longer fits in the house, and rats.  Lots of rats.  (The former owner's did not believe in owning cats.  But they were okay with living with rats, and rat poo.)  I would take you in there for a tour, but the last time I went in there, there was a near tragedy.  This is the pet friendly area I was talking about. Sarcasm intended.  I went in to look through the wood scraps for some crown moulding.  My dog Sampson followed me in and promptly ate rat poison.  Yeah, I steer clear of the Honey House now.  It's no sweet thing to me.

You can see next to the Honey House is the black walnut orchard.  I love orchards.  I'm an orchard girl!!!!

This is shed number two.  I have no idea what it's official title is.  Lawnmower Shed seems the most logical choice, since there is a Dixie Chopper in there.

 But what about this?

Or this???  Bad Fuel?  If it's bad-why is it here?????

;

How bout starting a jug band?  I got the jug...oh never mind.

Up next?  The Chicken Coop.  At one time this had actual chickens in it.  Now it has bee keeping supplies, mattress springs, briefcases, and

Grandma's clothes? More canned goods? 

A TV?  Maybe the person who drank the crate of booze broke it.  Sad face.


Moving on...

This bee-yoot is the former honey house.  Honey Trailer? Now it just sits here for effect and mood.  Jon says his dad was inside it once when a tornado hit. Sounds fun.
In the corner of the shot is my hubands broke down Cadillac.  You might be a redneck if you find a Cadillac on your farm.  Along with several trucks stashed about. 

Here is shed number three.  This one is ready to come down in my humble opinion.  Poor thing.

But if you need some Bananex, Shed Three is THE place to go.

Or Super #3000...

I have no idea.

This is the Pump House.  Next to it is another trailer full of bee keeping supplies.  The pump house holds the only hose that I have seen on the property.  It's no fun to go trekkin to the pump house to wash a paint brush.  No fun.

Off yonder...(tee hee) is the Hog House.  No hogs have been harmed here for a long time.  Like the other buildings, it's packed with beekeeping stuff.

No horses have been in this pig for awhile either.

Interior shot of the long Chicken House.  Guess what???  No frickin chickin!!!  It's full of scrap wood.  PawPaw was a woodcutter.  Cap'n.... There be wood here!  Oh and another truck!

Holy Moly!!!

A grain silo used to stand in this very spot.  No one can tell me what happened to it and why it was replaced with this work of art.  I went around this thing four times before I found a door.  (Its a piece of the metal with a latch.)  When opened I found bodies hanging in it with mystical writing on the walls.  I kid, I kid.  It had more bee stuff.  Top to bottom: and it almost made the door almost impossible to open.

Here is what happens to stuff that has no place in a shed, or building. It gets burned.  I keep telling Jon to fish out the heavy bag.  This does explain the mattress springs that are propped up in the Chicken Coop.  Really?  They keep em after they burn em?  For what???

Now that I have brought the ugly out into the light, I can't help but leave you with a little beauty.  Sure it's rough and dangerous, but it's also peaceful....

...and shiny.

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She's Got High Hopes!

Oh my.
Oh my.
A lot of internet less days go by.

I had a vision. It was grand. The vision involved our move; all the wonderful possibilities, and adventures that were in store.

Here is what I pictured:

A tearful, bittersweet goodbye to our home in Pe Ell, Washington. Waving our hands and wiping away the tears as we left Washington. I had wanted to go a couple of places in Washington where we had never been. Create a few last minute memories. Then head down to my parents home in Hanford, California where we would celebrate a wonderful Thanksgiving. One full of sights and smells that would give me enough memories to last at least a year. I would present a dish that I love to make. We would all gather around the table. Say grace. I would sneak off to meet up with my girlfriends. We would gab, laugh, and eat something terribly sweet. After a few days of familial bliss we would head on to our destination. I envisioned us stopping at many scenic points along the way and loading up on trinkets. I was so going to have my Nikon by the time we got to California, and it was my plan to update the blog along the way. Sharing a beautiful, thoughtful look at this great land we live in. Telling little tales of our adventures on the road. Maybe meet some quirky people. Ponder the land, the people, the past. It was going to be beautiful. We would arrive a little worse for wear, but excited to begin this new chapter in our lives.

Here is what happened:

It snowed. The morning that we were to get the truck it was a slick icy mess. Our good friend Shad took Jon to Olympia. (Soooo thankful for the DeSilva's!) When they got back, the guys proceeded to start loading up. Jacob was dragging his heels for the majority of the day. Two of his friends came by and refused to help because they did not want us to leave. (Thanks guys.) As the guys emptied the house I cleaned up behind them and tried to wrangle the two little kids who had no idea what was going on and became wild monkeys. A few hours into the "move" Jon and Shad decided to pull the truck forward to get a better placement of the ramp. Truck doesn't start. This begins the many calls to customer support. While Shad talks to Budget, Jon keeps loading. After taking one load, he came back into the house and sat down. He was sweating, and pale. Thus began the onset of the stomach flu. One by one it hit us. We had 10 days to move so we had to take 2 days to get well. Shad and Christie let us stay with them. I just remember the bed being sooooo comfy and I was soooooo achy.
Luckily it was a 24 hour bug, so we went back to our house finished loading, and got ready to drive away. Jon went to the gas station to fill up the truck. I took Jacob out to Doty to say goodbye to Teri. That was not fun. I cried. I felt like the most terrible mother for DESTROYING THEIR LIVES! After the sweet goodbye of young love, we drove to meet Jon at our agreed upon destination. Rainbow Falls. Sounds promising, right? I was sure that Jon had been there waiting and was probably getting antsy. When we arrived....no one. Hmmmm. Jacob tried to convince me that he had probably just driven on and we should just go ahead. I had a bad feeling. I lamented that we all did not have cell phones. I waited a few more minutes then turned back to Pe Ell. There was the truck at Texaco. Jon ran over to meet us after I had parked. Written on his face was the word "Crap!". He had left the truck at idle and ran in to get a pop, just as he got to the door, the truck died. It did not start again for several days.

It had to be towed. We had to live in a Motel 6 with five people and four animals. We missed Thanksgiving with my family. We had to spend a lot of money on food and the room upfront. There went my camera. After being sick, exhausted, and just plain mad, we got down to California and I had an emotional breakdown. All of this made me not want to leave my mommy. I cried like a baby saying goodbye to my dad. This was no beautiful goodbye. It was the hardest one I have ever had. I was sick about not having more time with girlfriends. It hit me hard. So now the teenager and I would pout together across country.

We did do some fun things. Like meeting the Motel 6 night manager in Kingman AZ. She was a chicken necking tweeeeeeeker! Wow.

We stopped at Starman's Crater. My husband only did that for me because I am a sci fi nut. I love him for it!

I had fun telling Gideon we were in Radiator Springs as we drove through New Mexico.

I had dreamed of seeing my family's property in Shawnee Oklahoma. Yeah, that didn't happen. I wanted to touch the earth that once held the foot prints of my grandma's little feet. ( I miss her so much.)

Our arrival here was not what I expected either. There was a lot to be done. But I will write about that another time.

The moral of the story is, sometimes things do not go the way we plan. All the planning in the world is the proverbial chasing of the wind. It makes no sense. What if everything had gone off just as I planned. Who cares? We still pulled together. We talked. We sang. We fought. We cried. It was still beautiful. It is our story.

edit: Jacob asked if I shared the story about him falling down. So I will share it while I remember. We stopped in Elk City-(not too sure about that will look at map)- Oklahoma. Jon and Jacob would get the pets and luggage while I waited with the kids in the room. Up to that point, it had gone quite smooth. When Jacob did not appear for a longer than usual amount of time, I decided to have a peek out the window. I pulled back the curtain and saw our big, white fluffy cat Tipsoo on the cement, looking very frightened. I stepped outside and called to her. Luckily, she was so scared I was able to catch her while she froze. (The motel was right next to one of the loudest freeways I have ever heard.) I saw the cat kennel on the ground busted into two pieces. No Jacob, no Flo (our other kitty). Jacob came suddenly from the back of the motel, lost his footing and went down with his ankle folded quite painfully upward into his leg. I winced and my arms went out to him instinctively. Jacob shouted the "Queen Word". Yup he did. I was startled so I may have giggled. I don't remember. He hobbled into the room and I went to look for the missing cat. The whole time I am thinking "The cat is gone. No way we will find her. Good grief! Stupid cat!....Oh but I don't want her to be scared." It stinks to be a cat lover. I found her wedged between some stairs. Hey, she has a Rubenesque figure! Cut her some slack. With all the love I could direct toward her, I picked her up safely in my arms. She began to flip out and scratch me. Nice.

This was one of three incidents of animal escape. In New Mexico, Levi let Sampson out. Just let him right out. Like he was going to the back yard. Levi also let Jed, OUR OTHER CAT, out as well.

Good, good times. So you will see why I became so enraged when I tell the story of our arrival here. We were promptly told "No Cats Allowed". Ohhhhhh hellllll nooooo! I did not go through all of that so you could tell me I had to get rid of my cats. (Don't worry-the cats and dog are still here.)

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"Look Away! Look Away! Look Away! Dixieland

One week. Oh that gets me weak, in the knees. It's on! Like the pioneers before us (but not the Donner Party, please!) we are gonna make the trek to the land of Dixie. Sweet Home.
Just like I did a few days ago with Washington State, I will now shine the light on Alabama. Here we go!

1. Alabama is a producer of all time great sports heroes. Henry Louis Aaron, Mobile 1934. Willie Howard Mays, Westfield 1931, Joe Louis, Lexington 1914.

2. Huntsville has been deemed the rocket capital of the world. It was workers from Alabama that built the first rocket that carried men to the moon!

3. On December 14, 1819, Alabama became the 22nd state.

4. 1902. Montgomery. The western hemisphere's first open heart surgery is performed. Dr. Luther Leonidas Hill. A stab wound!

5. Alabama means "Tribal Town" in Creek.

6. The state insect is the Monarch Butterfly.

7. Washington County is the oldest county in Alabama (Tee-hee Washington-get it?)

8. Saucy star Tallulah Bankhead was born in Huntsville, 1902.

9. The pecan is Alabama's official nut. (I could come up with some humdingers on this one!!)

10. In 1866, Montgomery began operation of the nations first electric street trolleys. (Take THAT San Francisco libs!!!!)


The lists for Alabama weren't nearly as long or as quirky as Washington's were. You see Alabama is a girl gone bad gone good kind of gal. She has a past. Out of the ashes of the Civil War rose the phoenix of the Civil Rights Movement. A people trampled down rose up and gave birth to "I have a dream". A trek that began with uneasy, unsteady steps, turned into the sure, measured steps of a march. With a cadence and fervor that carried them into the history books, and reformatted the heart of America. Alabama exists as a lesson. The past can teach us, but it does not have to define us.

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Are you fired up??

I should be packing. I should be off the recliner and placing things in boxes. Why am I dragging my heels? Instead I am feeding my cyberchondria. Googling, reading articles, formulating new questions. I eyeball my most recent crochet project from the chair. It patiently waits for me. Like everything else, it patiently waits on me....to move....

These days my life can be divided in to two sections. Before Yaz and After Yaz. I won't go into all the scary details. But,really, I am on a journey that has taught me so many things. Things like:

-People don't believe you. Even loved ones. Sad. Lonely. Truth.

-I am more fragile than I thought.

-I have wasted a LOT of time on meaningless things. (See "Stop and Smell the Roses")

-Good Health is not to be taken for granted or squandered.

-I may never be the same again.

Knowing all this to be true, I sit here still. I need to get up and get going. So here I go! Get going!

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