dear chunder and lightning

ROTFLMAO hehehehehe

love it. We can put it to music like that old Queen song ... OOps NOW I'm showing my age!! lol

Marge next door is in her glory helping with nappies, 8 grandkids all toddlers or less and only 55... hee hee she thinks A2 should be tied down, preferrably with a straight jacket. lol
The only drawback is that she & my mum are so close I only have to put the kettle on and mum knows about it! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />


'Being' so happy might have been the wrong word...lets say 'appearing'. Now I'm not unhappy you understand, just that I could be so much happier if A2 didn't have to go to war again.
Wow I said that & not even a sniffle..must be getting ny sense and sensibility back .. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />
I swore to myself A2 would have no needy weepy wife hanging off him this time around and I fully intend to keep my word.
I keep this home a place of fun and love and joy as much as I can while I have him. Well, between the nappy changes anyway! lol

Of course between Mike & A2 I don't think I've left the bedroom for a week!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/tongue.gif" alt="" />

NOW I might just sneak off for a nice hot spa bath while the gang is out, Mike is with nanna, A2 is watching sports next door with the guys ...ahhhhh peace.... this IS so freaky though .... I can actually hear the clock ticking in the lounge room!


<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />

Why does he have to go back another time? Never did understand that. Is it a British/Australian thing, or did he volunteer for another go-arounder. If he volunteered, never mind with the explanation. Testy-tosterone and being male says it all! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

Take care and don't hold too much back so that your tear ducts explode. There are no extra points for being noble. Or brave. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

t&l

When I came back home, and knew I was going to stay, I made some efforts to re-establish a relationship with HP. The one thing in particular that I remember doing was telling him the story of crying in the church after the wedding had started because I didn't want to go through with it...although I left out the reason why. That seemed like a little more information than was called for. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> He thanked me for telling him, and said it helped him understand a lot more about our marriage than he had before. Briefly I thought we might be making a breakthrough, but it didn't take me long to figure out that it wasn't going to work that way. Nor did it take long to slip back into the usual habit of aloof distance.

Before I tell you about the next time I saw MS, I need to stop briefly for all you men, and for the younger women who haven't yet reached the peak (<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />) of life to which those of us 40ers and 50ers have already climbed! You men will never know (and how fair is THAT!?), but you girl young'uns have a real treat to look forward to! It's not enough that we can't cough or sneeze without the fear of public humiliation and disgrace, but our dignity is endangered every time a stray joke is fired off anywhere in our general vicinity. I suppose every woman's technique varies somewhat, but for me it works like this: when the old bladder starts to fill up, a frantic search for a restroom begins...hopefully to be found before anybody says anything funny, or some wandering speck of dust tickles the old respiratory tract. Every muscle squeezed tight, I hurry in small, mincing, yet hurried steps towards the desired facility. Usually this works quite well, right up until I get inside and close the door. At that point, my bladder, seeing the toilet, says, "Whew! We made it!" and plops down on the sofa to relax. Only I'm still standing at the doorway with my pants up! Boy, do I get pi$$ed when that happens. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> The other favorite trick is to tell me I'm all done, so that I'll stand up again--at which point I can actually hear my bladder slapping its tiny knee and shouting, "Hehehehe. Fooled ya again, didn't I? Bwahahahahahahahaha!" <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> See what you miss by being either a male or a youthful female? And now that you all know what I'm really like, maybe you'll be a little more careful about how deep you want to wade into my Pool of Introspection!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" />

Since Neaksis was born 27 years ago, I've had 3 surgeries for this little, ahem, difficulty. The most recent was probably 6 or 7 years ago. Because cystoceles and rectoceles can recur if stress is put on their repair immediately after surgery, I was given 6 wks. off so I wouldn't be lifting any legs and helping people push. However, nobody told me I couldn't lift a suitcase, and since I had in my possession a ticket, which was about to expire, good for flying anywhere in the US I decided to take a trip. By myself. All alone. Just me. CSue--THAT was a vacation. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/cool.gif" alt="" />

HP and I don't travel together anymore. Our last trip together was 10 years ago this summer, when we took the kids and my folks on a trip from Caifornia to New Mexico and back. It lasted about 10 days and by the time we got back, I told him I'd never travel anywhere with him again. Turns out our approaches to vacation are fundamentally opposed. I have a general plan, but it can be subject to alteration at any point if something more interesting turns up. He has a specific plan, written on tables of stone, and woe betide the unfortunate individual who attempts to change one jot or tittle of the law. The kids were cut from the same bolt of cloth as I was, and we spent the whole trip trying to do extra fun stuff while he tried to keep us on schedule and moving to the next place. It was NOT fun. Not even for him. He was like a border collie trying to herd a flock of particularly-recalcitrant sheep. In the end, all it was was misery for everybody, including my parents...who just wanted everybody to get along! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

The only reason I considered the Hawaii thing at all is that we will be staying at the same place for the whole time, and just wandering around in the daytime. If we had to pack up every night and move to a new location for the next day, there is no way on earth I would've gone on another trip with him. Besides, it's Hawaii. I'm the only one who knows where the stuff is we want to go to! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />

But I digress. Back to the ticket. My parents, Neak and her then-two kids, Neaksis, and I had gone on a trip the year before with these same kind of cheapie tickets, which we got at an Albertson's special offer. I think it cost less than $1000 for all of us, and we flew to Maine, then drove across New Brunswick, Canada, to Prince Edward Island to soak up a little Anne of Green Gables atmosphere (a GREAT trip, by the way, for fans of the series). From there we drove down along the St. Lawrence River to Montreal and into New York near Lake Placid. For several days, we visited a family friend who was in federal prison, then went to see Niagara Falls and came home. HP was offered a chance to go on this trip, but he didn't want to travel in a group, and he didn't like the friend who was in prison, so he refused the offer to go with us. Fine--it was a duty offer anyway!

But I still felt guilty that we were going on a trip and he wasn't getting a vacation himself, so I bought one more ticket for him and suggested that he use it to go to Minnesota to visit Flard, and take a canoe trip with him, something he'd always wanted to do and which I had/have absolutely no interest in doing. The ticket was good for one year.

Now, almost a year later, he had still stubbornly refused to use it to go anywhere, and my Scot blood rebelled at the idea of my money going to waste in such an unnecessary fashion. So when I could see he had no intention of using it, I decided that I would use it myself instead. The problem was that I really didn't have anywhere to go in particular, and was somewhat at a loss to know where to go on my trip...until I remembered that my cousin had invited me to visit her sometime and get better acquainted. Since I grew up in Hawaii and she grew up in Michigan, we really didn't know each other well, but had had a good time when she visited her uncles (one of them my dad) after her dad died. So for the lack of a more urgent destination, I decided that I'd go and spend some time with her.

This is why, one week after my surgery, I took my suitcase and boarded a plane for my great adventure. I TOLD you. Nobody said I couldn't lift a suitcase! They only told me I couldn't lift pts. and legs at work! Do you suppose that's why the surgery wasn't all that successful? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /> Hm-m-m-m. Must ponder.

I landed in Kansas City, Missouri, rented a car, and drove a couple hrs. to spend the night with another cousin and her family. Left that afternoon and went to Branson to an Andy Williams/Glenn Campbell concert, where I discovered that when you're seated 20 feet from the speakers, it is actually possible to have music on too loud even for me! I ducked a block or 2 over the state line into Mississippi, just so I could say I'd been in the state, then drove across Tennessee to Chattanooga, where my cousin lived in a small nearby town in Georgia.

And here the thot plickens. MS lived in Chattanooga, and had ever since the early 70s after we split. I had neither the intention nor the desire for him to see me, although I wanted to see him. As in look at, visualize, peer at from a distance, briefly observe. But conversation and personal interaction were definitely, absolutely, positively, decidedly OUT OF THE QUESTION!

My break ends in 7 minutes, so I'm going to go ahead and post this. After all this potty talk, there's something I need to do before I return to my duties! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Ahhhhhhhhhh t&l;

A vacation by yourself! That's the spirit!

That would be heaven to me!!!

I've got a lot of reading to catch up on....just came by for a minute to skim through!!

<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> Hope you didn't step in the Pool!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Just a brief backtrack to the mention that I had tried to re-establish some kind of actual relationship with my husband, after meeting MS in Wisconsin in '96. The meeting was in April. Neak married on her birthday in July, 2-1/2 months later. So the whole I-don't-approve-of-your-marriage-so-I-won't-walk-you-down-the-aisle dustup with Neak's father occurred in this time frame, and didn't particularly improve my general attitude towards him, nor make a continuing marriage relationship any more desirable. But still I tried. I really did.

And then to have Neak, that silly twit, get married in the very same church, by the very same preacher (my uncle), with the very same man walking her down the aisle, all made her wedding an extraordinarily-difficult experience for me. So much nostalgia, and regret, and loss...

Oh, well, mothers of brides are supposed to cry anyway, and how was anybody else to know what I was snivelling about?! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> I love my facade! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" />

t&l

t&l

I did have a good cry just like you advised. Held Mike and cried my heart out..but A2 was gone.

No he didn't volunteer except when he joined up 20 odd years ago. Now I think he could have not gone this time due to his previous injuries but its that army thing about not going when your team goes.
The Army is his first spouse!! I'm the joy luck club!

well it feels that way. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

AW--I'm so sorry. You and your family are in the prayers of many here on the MB board, mine certainly included. As I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord your love to keep...

t&l

keeping you on the first page

Men!!!!!!!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />



And yet, oddly enough, there is no joy, the luck is bad, and the only club involved is the big wooden one which is clobbering your poor emotions upside the head! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

Sigh. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/frown.gif" alt="" /> Prayers coming your way. If you've got a Bible handy, read Psalm 46:9,10, Psalm 91, and Psalm 27. There are lots more, but those are a good start. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" />

t&l

I'm about to serve some fine whine, and wondered if anybody's got some cheese they'd like to contribute to the party. Fortunately I didn't post immediately, and have mellowed out somewhat on the way to work. Therefore, only small servings will be dispensed, instead of emptying the whole dang cellar. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" />

I don't know who has irritated me more this afternoon, HP or myself. Shall I be angry at him for being annoying, or at me for allowing myself to be annoyed? The button pusher or the button owner/pushee? Decisions, decisions. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> Actually, what happened was in-and-of-itself not a big confrontation. It just happened to tap into a very sensitive spot for me, so the emotional reaction I have is out of all proportion to the literal conversation.

Neak's husband is temporarily out of work, after delinquent debtors drove his business into the ground and belly-up. Apparently this wk. they ran out of money to pay for the satellite, and service was stopped. Since my father lives with them, and likes to watch TV, I would've paid the bill if I'd been, ahem, asked so he could continue to enjoy his daily routine. However, nobody asked for any help and far be it from me to force cash on somebody at gunpoint! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

So instead they decided to re-adjust the satellite (for a religious broadcasting station) that's sitting on the roof but pointed in the wrong direction so my dad can't see any of it. For this they needed a ladder, so Neak called over and asked me to ask her dad if they could borrow one of his for today and fix the TV for Grandpa. Please bear in mind that HP and I owe my parents-now-dad more in both money and personal obligation than we could ever hope to repay. So I asked if I could take it over and bring it back. Not at all surprisingly, he replied, "I don't want my ladder to go anywhere without supervision."

This is a man so possessive about his precious belongings I'm surprised he doesn't go around and pee on everything to mark his territory...so being turned down wasn't any kind of shock to me. But it was irritating that he wouldn't even loan a ladder for the benefit of a man who had been nothing but kind to him for 34 years. I didn't say anything at first, but it only took a few minutes of festering before I said, "You know what? I hope when you die that the military cemetery has an extra-big spot saved just for you so we can bury you with all your stuff!" I finished gathering my stuff together and went over to where he was lying on my bed, kissed him, and said, "Good-bye." To which he replied, "Are you sure you want to do that?" And the girl Tar Baby said nothing, just walked down the stairs and out the door.

I have thought for many, many years now that his fanatical insistence on remaining married had much less to do with any real affection for me than it had to do with this possessiveness that can't let anybody else have his "stuff." God forbid that anything once under his thumb should escape. Ever! So I got crabby, I must confess, and was in a bad moodall the way to work,which definitely influenced my selection of what to listen to while I drove and wallowed in a whole hour of nicely-melancholy music . Tomorrow I will return to my regularly-scheduled disposition, but in keeping with what I've got going in my head today, here are the words of one of the songs I played, because it has always hit home...and home hurt.

Yesterday when I was young,
The taste of life was sweet as rain upon my tongue.
I teased at life as if it were a foolish game,
The way an evening breeze may tease a candle flame.
The thousand dreams I dreamed, the splendid things I planned
I always built, alas, on weak and shifting sand.
I lived by night, and shunned the naked light of day;
And only now I see how the years ran away.

Yesterday when I was young, so many happy songs were waiting to be sung;
So many wayward pleasures lay in store for me,
And so much pain my dazzled eyes refused to see.
I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out;
I never thought to think what life was all about;
And every conversation I can now recall
Concerned itself with me, and nothing else at all.

Yesterday the moon was blue, and every crazy day brought something new to do;
I used my magic age as if it were a wand,
And never saw the waste and emptiness beyond.
The game of love I played, with arrogance and pride;
And every flame I lit, too quickly, quickly died.
The friends I made all seemed somehow to slip away,
And only I am left on stage to end the play.

There are so many songs in me that won't be sung.
I feel the bitter taste of tears upon my tongue.
The time has come for me to pay for yesterday...
When I was young.

Yesterday when I was young, so many happy songs were waiting to be sung;
So many wayward pleasures lay in store for me,
And so much pain my dazzled eyes refused to see...

Lalalalalala.

Got a pt. Time to adjust the facade and face the public. Fortunately this one doesn't speak English, so a lot of bonding won't be necessary! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

t&l

I'm back. I TOLD you there wasn't going to be a lot of bonding going on. Gave them the buttons so they can watch Spanish TV, said "uno hora" so she'd know how long she was going to be monitored, "dos centimetres" so she'd know how dilated she was, "el bebe esta bien" to reassure her on fetal condition, and left. My kind of patient! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" />

I guess what nags at me, and caused my mental flareup today, is the sneaky recurring suspicion and fear that all these years I've tried like a good soldier to build a relationship with a man who was hanging onto me for NO other reason than that he was just too stubborn to let go. I'm his ultimate Fenton sticker, which stickers we used to laugh about because he'd gotten them at a car show years before we got married, didn't need them, wouldn't use them, but couldn't bear to throw them away. There's no joy in being a Fenton sticker. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/frown.gif" alt="" />

So here's a snippet of another song...

MacArthur Park is melting in the dark,
All the sweet green icing flowing down.
Someone left the cake out in the rain,
And I don't think that I can take it
'Cuz it took so long to bake it,
And I'll never have the recipe again--
Oh, no...

There will be another song for me,
For I will sing it.
There will be another dream for me;
Someone will bring it.
I will drink the wine while it is warm,
And never let you catch me looking at the sun.
But after all the loves of my life,
After all the loves of my life--You'll still be the one.

I will take my life into my hands,
And I will use it.
I will win the worship in their eyes,
And I will lose it.
I will have the things that I desire,
And my passions flow like rivers to the sky...
But after all the loves of my life,
After all the loves of my life,
I'll be thinking of you--
And wondering why.

MacArthur Park is melting in the dark,
All the sweet green icing flowing down.
Someone left the cake out in the rain
And I don't think that I can take it,
'Cuz it took so long to bake it,
And I'll never have the recipe again--
Oh, no. Oh, no.

OK, OK, I know I said just recently that eventually I came to the point where I was able to let go of my dreams. And it's generally true. But today I'm not only not a dog, I'm not even "just" a hydrant. I'm a hydrant that got tossed into the Pool of Introspection...and I've already told you what's in there!!!!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />

The pity party has been officially completed. So, anybody hear any good jokes lately? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

t&l

... as you were saying...

<just a hint that the unfinished story still leaves us hanging>

I think this IS part of the story, just current, and not ancient history. Maybe Neak can post Baby Yoda Lina's ears. I don't feel entertaining right now. And I don't hear anybody telling me anything funny to cheer me up, either. So there. I'd pout, but it'd look silly here at work.

t&l

Something funny?! You want me to tell you something fully?!

If I could tell anybody something funny, I would have told my wife. A sense of humor would have make a huge difference.

Next?

-AD

... and of course the there and now (as opposed to the here and now) is part of the story.

Really? You think your problem with her is that you don't have a sense of humor? Maybe you had one to start out, and she ground it out of you! I would've assessed your sense of humor as being just fine, based on what I've read from you. Or are only your fingers funny?

Blast. Another pt. I guess the barbeques are all over and there's nothing left to do! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Another day, another attitude.<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> Regular broadcasting has resumed!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" />

Well, broadcasting will resume, but not until the broad has gotten some sleep. Um, broadcaster, that is. Hope you all have a good day.

t&l

puttng you back on page 1 so you don't have to wonder whether anyone is listening....

Neaksis laughs at me for paying attention, and says everybody needs a hobby, so it's a good thing that I have one <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />! But it is impossible for me to keep from being fascinated by the evidence that people find this story interesting. Maybe it's because nobody's paid any attention to anything but my surface for such a long time, and I've just gotten used to flying under the radar, but my MB experience, while in many respects a pleasure, remains somewhat of a mystery to me.

And so the "hobby" that I get razzed about is my little list where I write down the hits on this thread from one day to the next. Don't know why I started back at the end of July, but once I did I've just kept it up because it intrigues me. Some days there'll be a over 150; some days under 20--and for the life of me, I still haven't been able to figure out what makes some days dull and some days alluring. Maybe Neaksis is right and I DO need a hobby, but not necessarily THIS one! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> Please don't tell her so, though, or I'll never be able to live it down. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

t&l