John's Red Sneakers
(a pantoum for terrie)
I tried, but could not throw those shoes away.
They'd made you jump so high and run so fast.
He beat me then he begged that I would stay.
I knew, for you, I'd make this marriage last.
They'd made you jump so high and run so fast.
It was because of them you won or lost.
I knew, for you, I'd make this marriage last;
You'd have a Dad no matter what the cost.
It was because of them you won or lost.
They took you to the moon, the sun and Mars.
You'd have a Dad no matter what the cost.
He's not sick, he spends too much time in bars.
They took you to the moon, the sun and Mars,
And made five-year-old feet go fast or slow.
He's not sick; he spends too much time in bars.
I knew, for you, I'd have to make him go.
They made five-year-old feet go fast or slow.
You wore them through the summer while you learned.
I knew for you I'd have to make him go;
Your child respect for him was crushed and burned.
You wore them through the summer that you learned
He beat me then he begged that I would stay.
In my mind I saw them crushed and burned.
I tried, but could not throw those shoes away.
Ellen Rae
(c)1985
Monday, June 11, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Anatomy of a Bat-Out-of-Hell Move
Or is it the Physiology of a move....
Chronology? Yeah. I think that's it.
11 pm Monday: Evelyn leaves after helping me put the last few items in the car. The truck has been loaded earlier by an army of men and teens from church. She has stuck around to help with the last minute clean-up. We both bawl as she is leaving.
1:00 am Tuesday: Crawl out of the tub and onto the foam mattress on the floor, having finished the last last-minute cleanup.
4:15 am Tuesday: Alarm goes off. Mist and pull my hair into my signature french braid (roll the bangs on velcro rollers for the "I-KINDA-care-what-my-hair-looks-like" look. Realize the only shoes I've left unpacked are the dirty white canvas mules I've been wearing for two days while packing and cleaning. Oh well, I was thinking about throwing them away....
5:00 am Pull out of the driveway, thanking God for my time in that house, and the absolute blessing it was to live there. I am driving a 26 foot truck and towing my mini-van behind.
6:00 am Tuesday: Meet Maurice at Laurie's to get my books out of her attic. Since I have room, I might as well take them. Laurie says, "I hate that you are taking your books because it means you won't be moving back." I say, "I thought about leaving them here just to make sure I would see you again." She turns me around and points me to the door and says, "Get out of here. I'll talk to you when you're on the road."
8:00ish Tuesday. Stop for diesel at the Flying J in West Memphis. Totally baffled by the arrangement. Ask a trucker how this works, and he walks me through the whole routine. Gotta note the island number, go in and leave your drivers license or ATM card with the attendant, take the nozzle off the pump on the driver's side and turn it on and set it down on the island. Then go around to the passenger side, remove the nozzle and turn the pump on, pump the gas, replace the nozzle, go around to the driver's side, replace the nozzle and go in to finish the transaction with the attendant. OK. Busy, but not complicated. I can do that.
Get black grease all over my already dirty white shoes.
10:20 am Tuesday: Pick up my Mom in Little Rock. She has flown in the night before to help me drive the rig to California.
Early afternoon Tuesday: Russellville, Arkansas. Get gas, switch drivers. I sleep on the bench, which is fairly comfortable--just gotta get the feet in the right place.
Late afternoon Tuesday: Shawnee, Oklahoma. Get gas. Get more grease on my white shoes. Hair has the bed-head look, reminiscent of Meg Ryan in You've got Mail.
Early evening Tuesday: Somewhere in Texas. Wonder if I ought to stop for gas at this exit, but Mom is sleeping heavily and I hate to wake her up. We OUGHT to be able to make it to Amarillo.
About an hour later: Around thirty miles from Amarillo. Fuel alarm sounds. Loud, shrieking car-alarm sort of sound. IT WON'T STOP. There is no civilization to be seen. Finally a sign for a travel stop seven miles away. The alarm shrieks the whole way there. Mom and I shriek back at it after awhile. But we make it and put 33 gallons into a 40 gallon tank. (We're averaging 7.3 miles to the gallon.) Grease on both my shoes, and one shin. I use a wet paper towel with some soap in the bathroom to smear the grease on my shin in a thinner, wider streak. Hair has the Charlie-Brown's-little-sister look--sticking straight out on both sides of my face. I tuck what I can back into the braid.
Early Wednesday morning: Sky City, New Mexico. Gas. Mom has been driving all night. Stopping in Santa Rosa for gas is a blur. I've slept--mostly...sorta, on the bench next to her. I did reach a point where there was absolutely NO comfortable place to put my feet. Shoes and feet have developed a distinct, unpleasant odor. Mom mentions the wind is gusty, so be careful
Later Wednesday Morning: Winslow, Arizona. Gas, breakfast. I can smell my feet without taking off my shoes. Hair has reached hag status, reminiscent of Miracle Max's wife in The Princess Bride. Mom buys a brush at the truck stop and hands it to me saying, "Do you want to try to do something with your hair?"
Early Wednesday Afternoon: Somewhere in Arizona. Gas. The wind has blown non-stop since we entered New Mexico. It is a hard, gusty wind, and keeping the truck steady has been a workout. I spill diesel on my shoes, and don't even look at my hair. After washing the truck windsheild, I hang up the driver-side nozzle and pull forward to pay--taking the passenger side nozzle with me, as it is still in the tank. (Most people will go their entire lives without doing this. I've done it before.)
Wednesday Afternoon: California Border Inspection Station. We have forgotten to purchase the obligatory Arizona Fruit Offering, so have nothing to leave with them. They want to inspect the contents of the moving van. I joke, "Are you looking for illegal Arizonans?" He smiles wryly. "Are you carrying hazardous cargo?" I look at him questioningly. He sniffs. I look at my shoes.
Later Wednesday afternoon: Somewhere in California. The truck is losing power. On a long slow grade it can only do 45 mph. I call Kirk, my friend the chief mechanic for the city of Collierville. I tell him what is happening and he says, "It's a U-Haul, right?" No, it's a Penske. "OH! Then no, that's not normal. Give 'em a call; they have roadside assistance."
3:00 pm Wednesday. Almost-to-Barstow, California. Waiting in what barely passes for a rest area for the Penske-ordered mechanic. The wind is blowing HARD. The wind is blowing SAND. I take the opportunity to brush my teeth (with bottled water; the rest area water is not potable) and wet and rebraid my hair. The bathrooms are NASTY. There is no where to go to be out of the wind and sand while the mechanic is running his diagnostics. We try to hide on the leeward side of the truck, but still receive microdermabrasion to our exposed skin. The windswept hair-do reminiscent of Phyllis Diller is also nice.
5:00 pm Wednesday. Back out on the road. The truck has been running idle for quite some time, and is low on gas. The alarm begins shrieking. Again it is seven miles to the next gas station. We let it shriek with nary a response.
8:00 pm Wednesday. Gas. Dinner.
1:00 am Thursday. Arrive. Wilbur is waiting up for me. Carlson is unrousable. Ruby wakes after much shaking, looks at me wide-eyed and gives me a hug, then goes back to sleep. I have promised to sleep and snuggle with the kids in the queen-size hide-a-bed. I say to Wilbur, "Do you mind if I take a shower before we snuggle into bed?" He puts his chin down into the neck of his T-shirt and pulls it up over his nose and shakes his head.
2:00 am Thursday. Crawl into bed with my sweet babies. Ruby joins us a few hours later. Heaven.
Chronology? Yeah. I think that's it.
11 pm Monday: Evelyn leaves after helping me put the last few items in the car. The truck has been loaded earlier by an army of men and teens from church. She has stuck around to help with the last minute clean-up. We both bawl as she is leaving.
1:00 am Tuesday: Crawl out of the tub and onto the foam mattress on the floor, having finished the last last-minute cleanup.
4:15 am Tuesday: Alarm goes off. Mist and pull my hair into my signature french braid (roll the bangs on velcro rollers for the "I-KINDA-care-what-my-hair-looks-like" look. Realize the only shoes I've left unpacked are the dirty white canvas mules I've been wearing for two days while packing and cleaning. Oh well, I was thinking about throwing them away....
5:00 am Pull out of the driveway, thanking God for my time in that house, and the absolute blessing it was to live there. I am driving a 26 foot truck and towing my mini-van behind.
6:00 am Tuesday: Meet Maurice at Laurie's to get my books out of her attic. Since I have room, I might as well take them. Laurie says, "I hate that you are taking your books because it means you won't be moving back." I say, "I thought about leaving them here just to make sure I would see you again." She turns me around and points me to the door and says, "Get out of here. I'll talk to you when you're on the road."
8:00ish Tuesday. Stop for diesel at the Flying J in West Memphis. Totally baffled by the arrangement. Ask a trucker how this works, and he walks me through the whole routine. Gotta note the island number, go in and leave your drivers license or ATM card with the attendant, take the nozzle off the pump on the driver's side and turn it on and set it down on the island. Then go around to the passenger side, remove the nozzle and turn the pump on, pump the gas, replace the nozzle, go around to the driver's side, replace the nozzle and go in to finish the transaction with the attendant. OK. Busy, but not complicated. I can do that.
Get black grease all over my already dirty white shoes.
10:20 am Tuesday: Pick up my Mom in Little Rock. She has flown in the night before to help me drive the rig to California.
Early afternoon Tuesday: Russellville, Arkansas. Get gas, switch drivers. I sleep on the bench, which is fairly comfortable--just gotta get the feet in the right place.
Late afternoon Tuesday: Shawnee, Oklahoma. Get gas. Get more grease on my white shoes. Hair has the bed-head look, reminiscent of Meg Ryan in You've got Mail.
Early evening Tuesday: Somewhere in Texas. Wonder if I ought to stop for gas at this exit, but Mom is sleeping heavily and I hate to wake her up. We OUGHT to be able to make it to Amarillo.
About an hour later: Around thirty miles from Amarillo. Fuel alarm sounds. Loud, shrieking car-alarm sort of sound. IT WON'T STOP. There is no civilization to be seen. Finally a sign for a travel stop seven miles away. The alarm shrieks the whole way there. Mom and I shriek back at it after awhile. But we make it and put 33 gallons into a 40 gallon tank. (We're averaging 7.3 miles to the gallon.) Grease on both my shoes, and one shin. I use a wet paper towel with some soap in the bathroom to smear the grease on my shin in a thinner, wider streak. Hair has the Charlie-Brown's-little-sister look--sticking straight out on both sides of my face. I tuck what I can back into the braid.
Early Wednesday morning: Sky City, New Mexico. Gas. Mom has been driving all night. Stopping in Santa Rosa for gas is a blur. I've slept--mostly...sorta, on the bench next to her. I did reach a point where there was absolutely NO comfortable place to put my feet. Shoes and feet have developed a distinct, unpleasant odor. Mom mentions the wind is gusty, so be careful
Later Wednesday Morning: Winslow, Arizona. Gas, breakfast. I can smell my feet without taking off my shoes. Hair has reached hag status, reminiscent of Miracle Max's wife in The Princess Bride. Mom buys a brush at the truck stop and hands it to me saying, "Do you want to try to do something with your hair?"
Early Wednesday Afternoon: Somewhere in Arizona. Gas. The wind has blown non-stop since we entered New Mexico. It is a hard, gusty wind, and keeping the truck steady has been a workout. I spill diesel on my shoes, and don't even look at my hair. After washing the truck windsheild, I hang up the driver-side nozzle and pull forward to pay--taking the passenger side nozzle with me, as it is still in the tank. (Most people will go their entire lives without doing this. I've done it before.)
Wednesday Afternoon: California Border Inspection Station. We have forgotten to purchase the obligatory Arizona Fruit Offering, so have nothing to leave with them. They want to inspect the contents of the moving van. I joke, "Are you looking for illegal Arizonans?" He smiles wryly. "Are you carrying hazardous cargo?" I look at him questioningly. He sniffs. I look at my shoes.
Later Wednesday afternoon: Somewhere in California. The truck is losing power. On a long slow grade it can only do 45 mph. I call Kirk, my friend the chief mechanic for the city of Collierville. I tell him what is happening and he says, "It's a U-Haul, right?" No, it's a Penske. "OH! Then no, that's not normal. Give 'em a call; they have roadside assistance."
3:00 pm Wednesday. Almost-to-Barstow, California. Waiting in what barely passes for a rest area for the Penske-ordered mechanic. The wind is blowing HARD. The wind is blowing SAND. I take the opportunity to brush my teeth (with bottled water; the rest area water is not potable) and wet and rebraid my hair. The bathrooms are NASTY. There is no where to go to be out of the wind and sand while the mechanic is running his diagnostics. We try to hide on the leeward side of the truck, but still receive microdermabrasion to our exposed skin. The windswept hair-do reminiscent of Phyllis Diller is also nice.
5:00 pm Wednesday. Back out on the road. The truck has been running idle for quite some time, and is low on gas. The alarm begins shrieking. Again it is seven miles to the next gas station. We let it shriek with nary a response.
8:00 pm Wednesday. Gas. Dinner.
1:00 am Thursday. Arrive. Wilbur is waiting up for me. Carlson is unrousable. Ruby wakes after much shaking, looks at me wide-eyed and gives me a hug, then goes back to sleep. I have promised to sleep and snuggle with the kids in the queen-size hide-a-bed. I say to Wilbur, "Do you mind if I take a shower before we snuggle into bed?" He puts his chin down into the neck of his T-shirt and pulls it up over his nose and shakes his head.
2:00 am Thursday. Crawl into bed with my sweet babies. Ruby joins us a few hours later. Heaven.
Divorce Did Not Happen
Turns out he wasn't ready. Was granted a continuance on the 15th because, evidently, his attorney didn't let him know it was happening soon enough...or he didn't check his PO box...or something.
So... when I got back to CA there was another Request for Production of Documents, so it isn't a matter of just rescheduling. We have to dance some more.
WhatEVER
So... when I got back to CA there was another Request for Production of Documents, so it isn't a matter of just rescheduling. We have to dance some more.
WhatEVER
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Divorce Date is Set!
For may 17th.
Let's hope this is the last one!
I'm headed out to Tennessee late next week, and will be there until the 27th. I'll be moving all my stuff out of the house....sorting into keep, sell, freecycle, and dump piles. If any of you are scavengers like me...you're welcome to pick through the freecycle pile before I post it.
See y'all next week!
Let's hope this is the last one!
I'm headed out to Tennessee late next week, and will be there until the 27th. I'll be moving all my stuff out of the house....sorting into keep, sell, freecycle, and dump piles. If any of you are scavengers like me...you're welcome to pick through the freecycle pile before I post it.
See y'all next week!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Not for the faint of heart: Wisconsinisms
I HAVE to pass on some colloquialisms from one of my classmates. She is from Wisconsin, and they actually say these things.
1) It's colder than a witches tit.
2) I'm so hungry I could eat the a**hole off a skunk. (That IS hungry.)
3) It's raining like a cow pi**ing on a flat rock.
1) It's colder than a witches tit.
2) I'm so hungry I could eat the a**hole off a skunk. (That IS hungry.)
3) It's raining like a cow pi**ing on a flat rock.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Wow! What a Trip!
I just finished three incredible weeks of massage training. I learned some AWESOME stuff. Can't wait to try it out on all you folks!
Our "graduation" from the 200 hour course was a Native American-ish ceremony in a big TeePee. It was CO-OLD until the fire got going. The festivities went on until the wee hours of the morning. And of course it was very emotional. There was a LOT of estrogen flying--with eight women and one man in the class. (He became one of the girls after awhile!) Two of my class mates and the instructor were certifiably insane, so it was a wild ride. (Yeah I know you classmates are wondering which of you I classify that way. HA!)
I'm having trouble posting pix. I'll keep trying!
So... I didn't leave for Tennessee as planned when I last blogged. Seems I can't make plans more than a few days in advance, recently.
"He" scheduled the divorce hearing for...YESTERDAY, without consulting me or my attorney. (Did he KNOW I was in California going to massage school? Of course! WHY would he schedule the hearing for that day when he KNEW I'd be gone? Your guess is as good as mine!) My attorney got a notice from the court a couple of weeks in advance, so moved the hearing date. I have not heard from him yet when it will be, but I asked him to schedule it for May.
And when I explained to my landlord what was going on, she agreed to let me pay half rent (and owe the rest) one more month. That way I won't have to go out there twice (to move out of the house and then again to get divorced. Yes, I do have to appear, since we were unable to settle.)
So... I am waiting to hear when the divorce date is set for, and then I will make a decision about when to leave here. I'll come back and stay with my mom and sister's family until July (Watsu). In the mean time, I will study for the national exam, and (as I blogged before) I can work in CA with the training I now have.
One of the ladies I was in class with this week has a day spa with two massage stations. She said I could work there a couple of days a week (its a couple of hours away.) And there is another lady in the town where the school is who is not interested in massaging men. We are in discussion about my possibly taking up her slack a couple of days a week. (Mom's county requires a background check, which takes six weeks, but after that I can work in the area. Tennessee also requires a background check, so that part will be done when I apply for my license there.)
This week I was certified in Native American Hot Stone therapy (way fun) and Chair Shiatsu (office massage--an incredible routine!). We also had training in Craniosacral Therapy (in which I did NOT excel, but I will get it...) and Myofascial Release.
I am very eager to begin my healing work. (Dr. Ahern says, "We are not healers. We are facilitators of healing." It is a higher power that does the healing through our touch.) I have learned some AWESOME stuff (did I say that?). I'm very much looking forward to Watsu in July.
The kids are doing wonderfully. My sister is taking great care of them, emotionally and physically! I'm glad to be off school for awhile and present to care for them myself. I have really missed them!
Love to all!
Our "graduation" from the 200 hour course was a Native American-ish ceremony in a big TeePee. It was CO-OLD until the fire got going. The festivities went on until the wee hours of the morning. And of course it was very emotional. There was a LOT of estrogen flying--with eight women and one man in the class. (He became one of the girls after awhile!) Two of my class mates and the instructor were certifiably insane, so it was a wild ride. (Yeah I know you classmates are wondering which of you I classify that way. HA!)
I'm having trouble posting pix. I'll keep trying!
So... I didn't leave for Tennessee as planned when I last blogged. Seems I can't make plans more than a few days in advance, recently.
"He" scheduled the divorce hearing for...YESTERDAY, without consulting me or my attorney. (Did he KNOW I was in California going to massage school? Of course! WHY would he schedule the hearing for that day when he KNEW I'd be gone? Your guess is as good as mine!) My attorney got a notice from the court a couple of weeks in advance, so moved the hearing date. I have not heard from him yet when it will be, but I asked him to schedule it for May.
And when I explained to my landlord what was going on, she agreed to let me pay half rent (and owe the rest) one more month. That way I won't have to go out there twice (to move out of the house and then again to get divorced. Yes, I do have to appear, since we were unable to settle.)
So... I am waiting to hear when the divorce date is set for, and then I will make a decision about when to leave here. I'll come back and stay with my mom and sister's family until July (Watsu). In the mean time, I will study for the national exam, and (as I blogged before) I can work in CA with the training I now have.
One of the ladies I was in class with this week has a day spa with two massage stations. She said I could work there a couple of days a week (its a couple of hours away.) And there is another lady in the town where the school is who is not interested in massaging men. We are in discussion about my possibly taking up her slack a couple of days a week. (Mom's county requires a background check, which takes six weeks, but after that I can work in the area. Tennessee also requires a background check, so that part will be done when I apply for my license there.)
This week I was certified in Native American Hot Stone therapy (way fun) and Chair Shiatsu (office massage--an incredible routine!). We also had training in Craniosacral Therapy (in which I did NOT excel, but I will get it...) and Myofascial Release.
I am very eager to begin my healing work. (Dr. Ahern says, "We are not healers. We are facilitators of healing." It is a higher power that does the healing through our touch.) I have learned some AWESOME stuff (did I say that?). I'm very much looking forward to Watsu in July.
The kids are doing wonderfully. My sister is taking great care of them, emotionally and physically! I'm glad to be off school for awhile and present to care for them myself. I have really missed them!
Love to all!
Friday, April 6, 2007
Change of Plans
Change of plans 4/6/07
Welll....
It seems my plans have taken an unexpected turn. I'll be staying in CA for awhile longer than I thought.
"He" is paying half the amount ordered by the court, and I can not make it work in Tennessee. So I am postponing the last three weeks of school to go out there to move out of my rent house and put my things in storage. I'll stay at my sister's house until the divorce is final, and then see what God has in store for me.
I am "manifesting" moving back to Tennessee in the fall. There is a place in Midtown I have been coveting for a couple of years. Maybe it will go on the market when I am ready to come back. Hold that prayer for me!!
I have made arrangements to take the last week of this course in June and the Watsu in July. Hopefully the divorce will be final by then, and I'll better know what my situation is. In the meantime, I can work in California, even before taking the classes in June and July.
I'll bring my table and do as many massages as I can fit in while I am there! Email me if you want to "set up an appointment!"
this is not as scary for me as it sounds. I'm not stuck, just delayed. Keep white light headed my way, please!
Welll....
It seems my plans have taken an unexpected turn. I'll be staying in CA for awhile longer than I thought.
"He" is paying half the amount ordered by the court, and I can not make it work in Tennessee. So I am postponing the last three weeks of school to go out there to move out of my rent house and put my things in storage. I'll stay at my sister's house until the divorce is final, and then see what God has in store for me.
I am "manifesting" moving back to Tennessee in the fall. There is a place in Midtown I have been coveting for a couple of years. Maybe it will go on the market when I am ready to come back. Hold that prayer for me!!
I have made arrangements to take the last week of this course in June and the Watsu in July. Hopefully the divorce will be final by then, and I'll better know what my situation is. In the meantime, I can work in California, even before taking the classes in June and July.
I'll bring my table and do as many massages as I can fit in while I am there! Email me if you want to "set up an appointment!"
this is not as scary for me as it sounds. I'm not stuck, just delayed. Keep white light headed my way, please!
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