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Friday, November 25, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
50% of the Time, I Wished I Had
Some times in our lives it is not about the single moment or singular situation, it is about an entire string of situation; a whole collection of moments. Wether or not we Kill The Fly, is not necessarily about how we react to just one thing, it could include a rather large amount of things. Over the last month I have had one very large run of bad luck, or tests of will as some may view them. The bad luck began about a month ago when the first crash happened.
I have no spare money, as is the dilemma for many who may read this. My monthly income allows for not one deviation from the plan. It does not permit one visit to the dollar menu, not one trip anywhere if it does not get passed on the way to or from work or school, it does not even have room for one frivolous expenditure like socks or maybe printer ink. My income can not handle a month long string of expensive obstacles. So when my computer first caught a virus and appeared to loose all of my files, I was in a panic. Several days, in fact it was almost a week, this crash was past, yet not recovered from when my hard drive decided to fry. Thankfully I had taken a lesson from my first disaster and retained a copy of my pictures and assignments for school. These two events so close to each other would have been bad enough, were it not for the fact that earlier in the same day as event number 2, my car decided that i needed to blow out it's water pump and leave me to make a tortuous journey home. Hmmmmmmmmm I say, what more to make my already great day. Not having the financial ability to pay someone to fix my car, I was forced to learn something new. Now where as I am not a stranger to working on a car, this was a new one for me. And being that there was not a drop or a dime for any more computer repairs, I had no choice but to parts together my 10 year old desktop, and hope that it will run. Well run it did,, run fast it did not at all, When trying to run anything on the internet I could literally go do some chores around the house while I waited for the desktop to go load a page. As many will agree, this is not a speedy or even successful way to complete any task, so on to solution two. I have a small and many year old ibook that runs very slow, yet still makes tracks in a circle around the old desktop, but it also has no fast processor. I began to attempt through every slow load and locked up screen, to re-do yet again and again and again, my homework that I was now 2 weeks behind in. Alas luck was still not on my side. Many was the night that I would stay up all night and work on my homework, taking cat naps while waiting for pages to load and pictures to save. I was so close to completing things that would make me only a week behind, when low and behold fate struck again and the charger cord for my last remaining computer such as it is, also decided to die. Hmmmmmmmmmm, yet again. What do I do? I had to borrow money from someone who also had to go and deposit the money in my own back, because by now I had not enough gas left in the car to manage the trip; so that I could order another charger online. How long would you say did it take to arrive, that is right you guessed it, an entire business week. Behind yes I was, behind more now i am. And what may I say happened just next? My ibook now charged started locking up all the time and refusing to save my work. Did I throw it across the room you may ask? No I did not yet I admit that the thought past (many times over the last 3 weeks). I did not throw a fit yet is did yell and cry, not a reason could I find to dry my eyes. My son saved the day today, he made me cry with a smile. He lives at my mothers and was up for a visit, and he gave me to borrow his brand new 3 day old MacAir. I love my son. He is the best in the world. Through the trials in life he will always be there for me.
Life was not easy, but it soon shall pass. I made it through this month and I am still ready to try. And I nearly forgot to mention that in the midst of it all, last week I had Carpal Tunnel surgery. This was also a fun moment in time and another delay. Thank God for my Son, who today saved the day. I may have cried and I yelled but never did I give in to the ready at hand basic reaction of throwing a fit. I never for a moment gave in to tossing around the broke shit. I did not, i repeat, I did not although I sure wanted to, this time I did not Kill That Fly
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
This time I am glad that I killed the fly
When my son was in his early double digits, for several years in a row we held his birthday parties at a place near my home town of Findlay, called Putt n Pond. This was a place that had a fun indoor arcade and play land (like the ones in McDonalds) on the inside, and a few water rides and some fun go-carts on the outdoors. Putt n Pond also has, as the name would suggest, a miniature golf course and a pond that one can play in as well. The pond had a shallow end with a beach (of a sort) and inner tubes that you could float around on, and it had a deeper end that had one of those blow up floating rocks that has the foot and hand holds to try to climb it. This was a very fun day even though we always kept the guest list small for financial reasons. My son had brought his best friend with him and we also had my mother, father, daughter, cousin, my grandpa, and my oldest and middle nephews were there as well along with my sister. My son’s best friend and I kicked some serious tail on the floating rock climb. We had a great time racing to the top and competing with each other over who was going to be King of the Mountain. And we continuously beat practically everyone else to the top. When he and I tired of winning, we found a way to pull the floating rock over so that we toppled everyone else off, who wasn’t strong enough to hold their own body weight. Oh sure, it might not have been the nicest thing to do, and yes I realize that I was setting a bad example for the kids, but who cares, we were having an awesome time. As an entire group we had fun playing the arcade games while we ate lunch. After lunch came time for some putt putt golf. This is the area where my grandfather ruled the roost. He is an avid golfer so in my opinion he was cheating by having a vast amount of skill that none of us could compete with. But who am I really to be the hypocrite, because on the floating hill Ashton and I were not to fair in our competition with the others either. In reality there was no putt putt cheating, just a lack of skills in my area. But even though I did not have a prayers chance in hell of winning, it was also a fun time.
Our next activity on our list of things we wanted to do was to conquer the water slides. I will not sit here and pretend that they were mighty water slides. There were two water slides at this park. One slide was the kind that was made of rollers and you skimmed across the water at the bottom after you reached the end, and it had two sides to it for racing. The other water slide was also made with two shoots to sail down. One shoot was enclosed on this water side and the other had an open top. My parents and grandfather did not take part in the water slides; they merely cheered us on as we raced. They did join us in the fun on the bumper cars though; we all just slammed into each other in there.
Before our wonderful day came to an end, we all decided to dry off by riding the go carts. As with most of the other outdoor attractions, there were two different versions of the go carts too. There was one golf cart course that was twisted into a figure 8. This is a slower yet fast enough to be lost of fun racing on, go cart track. All of us except for my parents rode on this one. We had a ton of fun racing each other around the track, happily making fun of everyone that we were lucky enough to beat, each time that one of us won. There were no exceptions on this one; we all took part in the gentle ribbing if we were the winner. The other go cart track, the one that we saved for last, cost more tickets to ride, but was by far the best race out of the two. This track was an oval, much like we see on a regular race track where people are forever circling in a left turn. There were also different go carts themselves at this track versus the other one. When a go cart has a top on it, it is because you have a better chance of wrecking in it than you would in a normal open top go cart. Well, that is my opinion of this type of go cart anyhow. The sign out front of this track had the same rules that any average go cart track would have, along with a few others about personal property and injury being the riders fault and responsibility. I was very clear with my cousin, son, two nephews, and son’s friend, when we read the rules to them and I told them in no uncertain terms what would happen to them if they did not obey them. One of the rules was that a child must be attended by an adult if they were under 16, and I could see in the line an ornery looking boy in the line that was definitely not allowed there alone for he did not look any older than my son was.
I must digress for a moment in my story to tell you about a fact that I forgot. My sister’s oldest son was one of those very intelligent yet highly annoying children. Nathan did great in school, but his social skills were more than lacking. He tended to be very loud and where he was at never factored in to his volume levels. And he was in my opinion, showing signs of what might have been similar to some autistic children. Nathan could not take loud noises of any kind. When the other children, and adults were all playing in the arcade, Nathan was outside with my sister. Because when he was inside he would just cover his ears and whine, fuss, and sometimes scream about the noise. Ironic to me was that the loud noise bothered him but he was also loud. He lacked social skills in many other areas also. When other children would play with him, he had to be made to allow them to actively play with him. Nathan tended to control the situation so that he would throw a major fit if he did not get others to stand and act just so. I love this boy, for he is my blood, but I never really cared to be around him for long periods of time, but you still should always stand up for your own.
We riders were anxiously awaiting our first chance to compete. We were needling each other about who was going to be places first through last, and tried to make silly bets with each other to show our confidence. During times like this we had to be careful about what we said to Nathan for he was also sensitive and easy to offend, belittle, crush, and make cry. Suddenly, it is our turn, and we are all about to attempt to prove what words we were talking. Just our luck, the ornery looking boy that I had spotted earlier, ended up in our group. And we were off! Round and round we go, gaining and lagging behind and before the others. Laughing and cheering we ended our first several rounds. The competition became more entertaining with each passing lap. This other boy was with us most all of our previous races on this track, he had an aggressive attitude to him out on the track, but his parents (or some adults) showed up to watch him just after the beginning of the first race and then they left before this last go round. We were running out of time to play, this would be our last competition before we had to all head home. As the final race began, we were all giving it our best possible effort. Bragging rights counted the most with the last race because it was the last thing everyone would remember about the day. Round we go for the first lap, and I could already tell that the ornery boy was going to be trouble because I saw him try to play bumper cars with my son, but my son was the better driver. This boy was lunging at everyone with his car, until he found Nathan. One only has to pick on him one time, to know that he is an easy target. The first time that the kid made a b-line right for Nathan, he narrowly avoided getting hit. And then came, the panicked look on Nathan’s face. The look that we knew could quickly lead to loud tears from him. And the next time around the track my nephew’s car was clipped by the kid that needed a spanking, for he was clearly enjoying the challenge of catching Nathan with a good one. With the next lap his goal was achieved. This boy smashed right in to Nathan and spun his car sideways some right in to the side rail of the track. Now, the car was ok, they were built to with stand the blast. But my nephew’s feelings were not, and I knew that our ears were in for it for a minute, when the race was stopped due to the accident. When the guy working the ride called the race, he was very angry at this boy who had continued to not listen to him about the bad behavior. And when the guy working the ride called the race, I was on the far side of the track and had almost an entire lap to complete before I could pull my car into the parking lane. I opened my eyes and saw opportunity, and my open ears could hear the anger of the other riders and the attendant. My luck held strong as I rounded the last curve at full speed, and the jerky kids car was just crossing around the last little corner to park. If I could have accelerated more I would have, but the car’s speed regulator was already maxed out. The kid was slowing down to park as I blinded him with a smashing dead on hit to the driver’s side of his car, and out of the corner of my eye I could see my grandfather and the attendant burst into instant laughter. My mother had a shocked look and my father looked pleased. I will be honest and say that several other people that came with me were also vocal in their entertainment with the incident. But the best part was yet to come, and I was on a roll. As we were waiting for our turn to leave the circle, I let the kid know my opinion of people like him and their parent. As well reading him the rules that he agreed to and telling him look what happens when you don’t listen and be mean to someone in MY family. (and yes, my grandfather and the attendant were still laughing, but you could see that the attendant was by now trying not to.) Yes, I do realize that it is very unfair and definitely not nice or the “right thing to do”, as I was telling this boy what my opinions of him were, but at the time I really did not care. But my anger faded in an instant, as the boy burst into tears and ran, literally ran away. On one had I made the kid cry just as he made Nathan cry, and that was a very mean thing to do because as they say, “you can’t right a wrong with another wrong”, but I can say it sure was fun. And as I said, my anger faded in an instant and laughter replaced it. Sure you say, laugh at the kid for crying when you were mean for him making someone else cry. Yes I know, the reasoning behind the episode made me laugh all the more. And the sight of my grandfather laughing, where as it might have been a tad bit evil of him as well, at least meant that the action was deserved. We all laughed and talked and still had a good time on the way to the cars and all the way home.
This time the right thing was as it usually is, it is the fun thing. And this time I was a bad girl and listened to my more basic instincts, and did the fun thing not the right thing. This time, I was happy that I smacked the crap out of the fly.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
It makes me wonder
There are a lot of times in my life that I have wondered how far would one, should one go to get what they need to get by in life. How hard do we have to try? How much stress should one person go through alone, just to try their best to provide for them or their family? What lengths are to far to go to just pay the bills? And lastly, why is it always those that try the hardest, that have the worst time just getting by?
Yes, in life it is our choices that put us where we are when both good and bad things happen to us. Unfortunately, there is no magic sign that tells us what path to take to make our lives the easiest. If there were a little sign or signal that would help us all to make not only the most intelligent decisions, but also the ones that bring about the more fruitful consequences; then our lives might be far less painful. Those of you that are reading this, if you understand what the feeling is, then you also understand the question, “How far is to far to go, to get what you not only need but deserve out of life/”. The things in life that we need are basically simple, if we let them be. We all need food, water, clothing, and shelter; we need to also be able to provide these things for our families. Is it right that some of us try; we try so hard that we hurt? We do our best so many times, and always still try to do what’s right, that when we see others doing the opposite it hurts us even more.
Between both work and school, I have only had perhaps 5 days off in over 8 months. (Excluding the time I fractured my foot trying to do something nice for someone else, I had to miss work for two weeks for that, but I still went to school.) I attend school full time in the fall and spring, as well as work every Friday Saturday and Sunday. Over the summer I went to school part time and worked my regular job and I also picked another one working for two hours a day every day that the Mud Hens had home games. I am also a single mother who does not get to spend nearly as much time with her kids as she would like. Well sure you say most parents feel that way. Well in my case I live in Perrysburg and my daughter technically lives with me, while my son has lived his life time in Findlay with my Mom and Dad. And until an year ago I had lived my whole life in that town as well. Both of my children go to school in Findlay, even my daughter who as I said, technically lives with me. I say technically because even though I never get days off and work so hard that I sweat, I barely make enough money to pay the gas to go between school and work little lone drive back and forth to Findlay every day. Well you might be wondering why my daughter goes to school so far away, well simply put she goes there because it is best for her education. My little girl is in very advanced classes and was even chosen to be one out of only 30 third graders in the entire town to take those special classes too. I feel that I would be doing my girl an injustice by giving her less of an education. My problem is that I make so very little money that Hanna has to also stay with my Mother and Father 90 percent of the time. I try, I try real hard, but I can only do what I am able to do. I live up here because I lost my house I was buying in Findlay, trying to take care of my friend’s kids for a couple years while they were incarcerated. And as if a gift from above, the opportunity to buy this one for a less than 1/3 that I spent on the roof of the house that I was about to be made homeless from. Now that the threat of homelessness has passed, I am forced to live lonely.
You by now I am sure are wondering why I am talking about all of the above rambling. At work recently we have been having a lot of thefts. And the two suspects are still employed. In fact, the only two people who are working every single time that money has come up missing in the last couple months or so, get more hours than me every week. Believe me when I say that I try as hard at work no matter how horrible and low paying the job is, as I try at everything else. And I am the kind of person who when I don’t try my hardest I cant sleep at night thinking about what I could have done better, Ok, so maybe that is a bit of a neurosis, or maybe it is just good values. What ever it is, I see two adults with children, one in my age and lives with her husband, five kids, her two brothers, all at her mothers two bedroom apartment. And the other girl lives with her mother and is pregnant with her first child. My point of that would be to say that, where as I do not feel that I am better than anybody, I do feel that I try so very much harder than most and certainly him or her. This makes me so very angry, and hurt, and practically victimized. What is the deal here? Do I have to learn to steal? Why is it that not just I, but all of us who try the hardest in life, and ALWAYS the ones who have the hardest times? How fair is this I ask? And I answer that it is NOT! I have come to the conclusion this time as well as every other that I have wondered in my head this very same question: that I am hoping that all the times we hear the empty and over repeated rhetoric of “they will get what they deserve someday.” or “you will be rewarded in the end”, I am hoping that those people are right. But my people do not be deceived in to thinking that I actually expect either to ever come about. But I do know that I will stand by what if feel is right and not sink to the level that people like theses two have. I will stand firm to my decision to just suffer though and keep on trying.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Scribbler 1
Sunday, September 18, 2011
How do we really know what is "right"
How do we know what is “right”
This post is a little bit different from the normal odd random happening from my life. We are going to take a break and wonder for just a moment, how do we really know what is “right”. Does it make something the “right” thing to do because it will best help us? Or perhaps is the thing “right” because it is what is best for others? Does “right” mean that it is the least hurtful or harmful? Maybe we know what is “right” by listening to what others tell us, or maybe by listening to the little voice inside of use. And occasionally the “right” thing to do is only “right” for a moment.
Life is full of our hard choices. Sometimes we have to keep the best wishes or well being of others, before that of our own. Or do we really have to? I find that when my mind is full of dilemmas, it also begins to wonder how I really know what the right decision to make really is. Sometimes what sounds right before they happen; really turn out to be the worst one after they are done. And once in a while what feels the worst to me as I am doing it may actually be what the best thing to do really was. Quandaries of the mind can sometimes be so over whelming and even tear our heads apart. The leave us confused about which route is the best one to take in life. What may be right in the heart may not be right in the head or even in your wallet. And sometimes we just have to bite the big bullet and hope that as we jump off that cliff we might land on something soft and squishy.
Recently I have been at odds in my head with a big decision. This is a decision that could be life changing in many different ways, both good ways and bad. Try as I might I cannot figure what the “right” thing to do actually is. All of this wondering in my head has drawn me to one simple conclusion, sometimes we just have to take the plunge. If we wrestle so hard in our head or in our hearts to find what the “right” thing is, then we just might as well go ahead and try it. Whatever it is, so long as you know when you are stepping into it that you are not purposefully be hurting others, then that is something that is worth trying. If what I am about to do, ends up being the very wrong thing to do, then I can do my best to bow out gracefully. That is it, just now I know, that is really the only way to go. This time, if I do kill the fly, I will do my best to give it a proper burial.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Evil Little Deeds
When I was young I did a whole lot of mean, evil little deeds. When the little boys in the neighborhood were mean to the little girls that were my friends, I always sought retribution. Granted, it was not a very nice thing to do, always having to get even, but it sure was the fun thing. Once I painted a little neighbor boys brand new jeans. The little boy came over to my house while my sister and I were painting our dog house in the back yard. Well I am not sure how I got him to let me do it, but his mother sure was mad. She called my mother and let her know just what she thought about what I did to her son’s brand new jeans. And my mother was none too happy as she drug my butt across the road and down the street, to shame facedly apologize for what I had done. And my mother was especially mad with me because she had to pay for the pants that I had ruined. I do not remember just how long I was doing a mountain load of extra chores to make up for that one. But I know that by the time I was done I had learned the most valuable of lessons. I learned from this that if I am going to be doing evil deeds, it was best to make sure the money to pay for what I had done, did not come from my parent’s pockets. Maybe not the best of lessons, but it was an ample one to make me revise the evil just a bit in the future; for my reign of terror did not cease.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Bubble Butt Jumpers
Bubble Butt Jumpers
When my sister and I were small, I was somewhere around 6 or 7 years old, we each received one very cut bubble butt tie strap jumpers. They had elastic around the waist and around the leg holes (for there was no legs at all), making the butt area just a bubble of material. We thought that our new outfits were just so very wonderful. Secretly I thought that my sister’s was far better than mine. We did not get a lot of new clothes, just a certain amount to make it through each season. It’s not that my parents were broke, they just did not feel the need to lavish money on clothing. You get what you need and sometimes what you want. Well these were just so cute and so new that we put them on and went off to play. We got out our little red wagon and were off on an adventure to our neighbor’s house. And yes, in case you were wondering, I was beginning to harbor a bit of resentment for the outfit that I thought was better than mine. We knocked on their door and asked if our two friends could come out and play. In all honesty, the younger of the two was annoying, but if we wanted to play with one, then we had to play with both. We had a wonderful time pulling each other up and down the sidewalk in our little red wagon. (Back then we didn’t have video games in every household.) All the while we were having fun I got a little bit more and then a little bit more jealous of my sister’s just slightly fancier than mine, outfit. We wheeled our way back home and our mother brought us each out a tall cold glass of koolaide, and then she went back inside. Well I got it into my head that if my sister’s outfit wasn’t as pretty, then mine would be the better one. Does anyone see what’s coming yet? Sure enough, that glass of my red koolaide found it’s way on to my sister’s brand new bubble butt jumper. I knew in an instant that I would be in the worst of trouble if my mother knew that I did it on purpose, so I turned on the tears. And cried my way right in to my mother thinking that it was an accident. Because my tears were good, I did not get busted for the sabotage. This time I did kill the fly, I just covered It up real well.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
The Coveted Chair
When my daughter was younger, somewhere around a year old, I first saw the chair. When Hanna was a very little girl I was working full time in a nursing home, as an STNA. One of my best friends was my faithful baby sitter. Every day I would drop my girl off at her house in the morning, and come back and pick her up before supper. My route that I had chosen to travel from her house to work, took me down an alley and then a one way back road (well, that was the start of the route). Never on this short stint of the route had I ever saw another person. I saw no people in their yards or by their cars, not even on porches or in the street. I did not see people when I was going to or coming from work. But every day I passed the chair. I would like to add in that my car was beyond my means of repair, so I was driving my father’s ratty old pickup. It was an old truck, but it was a truck none the less. As you might have by now guessed, that chair would have fit very well into the back of that borrowed pickup. Five days a week, two times a day, I passed by that chair. To me it was the most amazing of creations I had yet seen. It looked as if it were made of bamboo and it had this crazy tall and curved back that always reminded me of the Egg Communications chair in Mork and Mindy. (If you have seen the show you know exactly what I mean. It was curved and formed similar to a giant scoop, and it had a comfortable sized and also creative bottom half.) I really wanted this chair. Countless times I passed that chair, and each time I did I must admit, I thought about throwing that chair into the back of the truck and heading on to work. I had never seen anyone anywhere near there, so I was fairly sure I would not be caught. But alas, I resisted the evil urge to just take what I wanted from someone who looked far better off than I. For nearly a year I passed by in that truck and finally the day went by that I first saw someone in the yard with the chair. For some strange reason I stopped. I pulled my truck to the side of the road, and told the guy in the back yard how much I loved that chair. And I even admitted that I have passed by it for nearly a year and had always wondered where it was from (I did not however tell him that I also thought of stealing it, every time that I passed by). He came over to me and said thank you and he told me that he hated it. Well of course this was a shock to me because clearly, to me, it was a wonderful chair. And I expressed my opinion to the guy. He suddenly asked me if I would like to have the chair. Yes! My head shouted hurray, but my pocket knew that it had only loose change between empty and full. But yet with the knowledge of being broke in my head, I still ventured to ask the guy how much for the chair? It is Free said the man! Oh Lord I was a shocked woman! I asked him how could he part with it for free and he informed me that it was his girlfriends chair. And the chair had been given to her by her ex-boyfriend’s mother. (Or something like that). And for that reason alone he was willing to suffer the wrath of his woman to give met the chair. I was ecstatic and was not willing to say no. after all; to me this was a hidden force rewarding me for doing the right thing. I had always wanted to, yet I never had, stole the chair. And low and behold the chair was now mine! And the guy even walked back to his porch and picked up the chair, and put it into the back of the truck for me.
Sometimes, though not often, when we do the right thing it pays off. This time, I DID NOT KILL THE FLY. I did not do something that I regretted later, instead I did what I felt was right and still got what I want.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Falling Down Edited
Falling Down Edited, a photo by Dee Brown2011 on Flickr.
I was so impressed by what picnik.com could do, that I wanted to post a back to back difference for you to see.
A Hidden Cave Editied
This spot really impressed me. It made me wish i could have scaled the wall, climbed the fence, and discovered what was inside.
A Hidden Cave Editied, a photo by Dee Brown2011 on Flickr.
By the Water Edited
I have passed these on the highway countless times. And I have always looked at them and wondered what they held. I think I irritated a few people when I pulled over on the highway to take the picture.
By the Water Edited, a photo by Dee Brown2011 on Flickr.
Crossing Over Edited
After I edited this picture, it made me want to walk down that bridge and find the mysterys that were at the end of it.
Crossing Over Edited, a photo by Dee Brown2011 on Flickr.
Beyond Edited
I love the way this tree forms a natural circle to frame this building
Beyond Edited, a photo by Dee Brown2011 on Flickr.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The Beginning
When I was very small, somewhere between 3 and 5, I remember seeing a fly on my window sill. That fly just kept buzzing around me and irritating me until I have finally had enough, and I smacked it down. Instantly if felt remorse and shame for I had taken a life. And my parents had already instilled a solid set of values for right and wrong. And I had done the worst wrong my tiny little mind could imagine I had taken life. Perhaps it was wishful thinking or maybe it was lack of realization, but I tried, I really tried; to give that fly back life. I made it a little bed and shed some tears, but as expected the fly no longer flew. What little things have you done without thinking, at the spur of the moment, out of spite or jealousy, or even out of vengeance; that you regretted instantly? We all have them, those single defining moments in our lives that if we could, if it were even possible, we would take back what we had done. In this moment I would have given back life to the fly. What did you do? Did you kill the fly?
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