As One Wise Family Says, Temporary is the New Permanent

We are finally in the new place. There are boxes everywhere and most of it finished, just cabinets to fill and odds and ends to find a place for. It is so lovely here, I can not express it enough. The sad thing about it though is that we are without my sister in law and her family (whose house we are living in), and have to survive holidays for two years without them! There is this wonderful familiarity with the house like it is my second home, but there is also a lingering sadness that they are not here in the States. The Prof. is brimming over with glee at the ease of driving only ten minutes to work and working one day a week at home. The savings on gas alone is mind boggling.

When it rains, it pours, I tell you. Not only has my sister died in the last month, but I have moved, done little for my classes that I am teaching in now less than two weeks (scream), and our car is (again) the bane of our existence. A couple months ago we just dropped 1400 on it in some odd repair. Before that insurance covered the deer hitting it, and now we have more maintenance repairs, tires, and whatever giving us a grand total of, oh, I don't know, 1600 bucks. That is ADDED to the 1400, mind you. AND, if we don't get it repaired, it will not pass inspection next month. The joys of American living.

Did I mention that my kids are sick too? Yes, they have been using the nebulizer and going strong with a cough for well over a week now. While I was sitting among boxes setting up utilities, I was getting calls from the coroner and the apartment manager where my sister died, speckled with moans and coughs in the background reminding me to dispense medicine when I finished up.

As soon as August hits I start to hear all this back to school stuff, and I refuse this year to feel guilty that I don't start school up until the first week of September. In fact, I may not start until the third week. My kids are smart, read all the time, and we have had no summer. The excellent thing I really look forward to is that my sister in law is coming the first week for a handful of days, and we get to have them stay with us.

As we were driving yesterday to our permanently temporary new home, the Prof. said, "There are so many people in the world." I was just looking out the window at the sea of houses and thought the same thing. I said, "Hey, I was just thinking that." He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, smiling.

"Of course you both think the same things!" yelled Eraser-Eater, "the Bible says that you are one body!"



I am finding that summer is not what I imagined it would be. I planned to record a couple days a week and that is not getting done. I planned to read more and that is not getting done. What I am getting done is clearing the house up so we can sell it because we are moving about an hour north, closer to the Professor's work, which will be great. I am not complaining. It is just funny how things don't turn out to be what you thought they would. In a strange way, I sort of love that about life. You could have severely dull moments, but in reality it is never truly dull. I can see why contentment in all circumstances is essential to living the good life.

My sister-in-law has taken the kids for a couple of days (minus the Oldest). Boy is it strange. My Oldest is 14 and playing the part well. The Prof. and I waited and waited yesterday morning all morning to see if he would get up. We didn't talk about it at all, but just went about our morning packing and such, until 11:30 hit and I started to wonder: "Is he dead?" Being quite melancholy, my mind goes in those directions in a split second.

Eventually he got up at 1:00. I lost my mind temporarily and ironed for an hour because I had clothes I hadn't worn in a year because of my laziness.

Sorry for the boring post. It is almost nine and he is still going strong. I have to get me on the treadmill before I give up.


New Song

Those of you that have not heard this song already, tell me what it is about as a sort of game.

This kind of stuff is what has been sucking up my time and keeping me away from blogging and soap-making! Now, off to make soap!


At some point I will write something on here. Not that anyone is reading it! Ha ha.


Feeling Empty When Life is Still Sweet

This is the time of year when things slow down a bit (at least near the end of the month) and I can take a deep breath and record. Well, I don't anticipate doing that until June, but it takes me a long time to settle into an idea. Seeing as how it is only the beginning of May, I am a little bit premature in my anticipation, but that is ok. School should be done by the beginning of June, Co-op will be finished next week, and a little vacation awaits my family directly after I have a gig in almost three weeks, which I am a little nervous about. No one will probably be there, and it is probably as low key as you could possibly think, but it is the step of doing it, not that actual act itself. I have pushed myself to do this---asked my friend to pray for a fire to light under my rear to get it over and done with. It worked. I sort of blindly called a number and booked myself. Exciting, but I am not incredibly excited about much lately. I am down a lot, surprise, surprise.

You know how you just feel like giving up on all the things you love to do---to sit on the couch and let the TV put your brain on autopilot? I never watch TV. But it sounds good. Reading sounds good too. Just a sort of reality besides the one I have so I can escape for awhile. And not that life is so bad. It really isn't. It is just that spiritually I feel beat up and worn out. Recovery could take a long spell, who knows. I am willing to see it through and roll with the punches. I asked the Professor what he thought of the whole TV idea. He said, "Well, that's classic depression." I guess it is. But I still get up in the morning and run. I still make soap. I still school the kids. I still teach outside home. I still drink all my water for the day. I still get dressed and put make-up on. I even still pick up the guitar about every other day and accompany myself singing. Just inside I have a weariness that does not abate. A sort of spiritual lethargy. Doing the things I love to do are harder to do.

My mother in law is close to leaving this earth. I hear reports of her peaceful countenance and readiness for the next life. I envy that peace, and I envy that wisdom. So I see the importance of doing what you need to do even if you don't take joy in it for a time inside.


Jack the Ripper

Been thinking about this song a lot and also about the famous London murderer. I am presently reading The Lodger on the Professor's reader thingy, and it is very suspenseful and entertaining. I recommend it. It is free to read on Project Guttenberg. This song I sing on this video is a cover of Morrissey. Great, great song. I think when I realized what it was about (I always listened to it as a teen not knowing what it meant) I fell over while running on the treadmill.

It is from the murderer's point of view---when he sees a harlot he wishes to murder and how he deceives her into getting alone with him, which isn't hard as she is indeed a harlot. Of course, if you don't know about Mr. Ripper then you should read up on him. He was famous for killing harlots late at night and sometimes taking body parts like uteruses from his victims. He was never discovered. I wonder how The Lodger ends.


Sunshine and Rain

Here is a picture of the "shine sprite" The Oldest made for me in art class. Crazy little sculpture, but it makes me a bit happier for some reason. He knows that the dark, dank weather affects me so he thought of me when he made it and said when he handed it over, "This is for you, Mom, when the weather is bad, you can at least have a little sunshine in your window to cheer you up." So I have the thing on my kitchen window sill where I store some of my soap balls. He was probably thinking of himself too though when he thought of making it for me. I get very down when it is cloudy and rainy (which used to be my favorite weather). He has to deal with a not too happy mother every so often.

Speaking of the rainy weather, I remember back in the archives of my brain one of the times I first met The Professor. When he was only my acquaintance, he used to come over to my parents house as they had a sort of "marriage class" home group sort of thing. He was the only single guy who came as he wanted to learn about how to be a good husband as his goal was to marry eventually. I rarely stayed during those meetings, but since it was raining cats and dogs, I remained indoors while everyone piled in the house one by one.

I don't know what I was thinking. It was indeed true that I loved the rainy weather, but I must have had a confidence with men then that I forget about in my older years now. When The Professor walked through the door, all rainy and in a bright yellow raincoat, I couldn't help but look up at him. One of the elders had opened the door, welcoming him in, saying, "It's terrible weather out there, eh?" The Professor put his hood down and said jovially, "Oh, I LOVE the rain! I wish it would rain more!"

At that moment he looked over at me slightly as I was sitting at a table facing the door and I was shocked. I had never met a person who loved the rain like me. In complete confidence (I only imagine), I said, "You are DEFINITELY scoring some points."

What he took that to mean, I am still not sure, but he turned a little pink and laughed as he took his coat off.


Isolating X

I think I have lost my ability to write at all. I took off about 8 months on this thing and left it for dead, but decided, why not? Who knows if I want to keep it up regular like I used to.

My brain is entertained elsewhere these days. Mainly it wants to stay indoors and never leave the house, but of course I find that I am taking a kid to soccer a few times a week, running errands, meeting friends for coffee, and teaching at the co-op.

I just survived a very terrible experience worship leading at a local church (I wasn't terrible, the people were a mixed bag). I spent a good year doing that but it was not wasted. In fact, I was still writing on here when I was leading. Well, that's over. The present worship team did not appreciate my efforts much because I was not rock n roll, so here I am. It took me a bit to be fine with it. It feels rather not good when people do not like or accept you. But when you are rock n roll, you are rock n roll.

I am in the throes of teaching my Oldest Algebra. When anyone asks me what I am doing these days, I just say, "Isolating X." They look at me puzzled but if the person is a wise homeschool mom she knows immediately what I mean and chuckles. This, I believe, is why my brain is fried. I literally broke down and cried last week when I couldn't figure out a problem (when I usually can). My son looked at me in horror as if to say, "what is this wetness falling from your cheeks onto my math book?" His lack of "Here, let me solve the problem, dear mother!" or "How can I make this better?!" made me so angry that I didn't know whether to ravenously eat the math book with my retainer on and upturn the coffee table when finished or just calmly sit there and cry a bit more. You know when you are so mad you just look around a bit saying in your head, "what can I do? What can I do?" seeking something to possibly destroy. It is desperation and I don't ever want to feel that again.

But we got through it, you know? And eventually I looked at the problem again and realized that I was looking at it wrong and solved it in a jiffy, which, turned out that the boy could solve it in a jiffy too and the world was right again. I didn't have to eat the math book, I didn't ruin my retainer, I didn't upturn the coffee table in my wrath.

But this has been a year. Next year will be my favorite, I am quite certain: the Oldest enters high school. I will be homeschooling ten years when this one is over and I am not sure I like it. Some of you Anons that hate me in the world like to come on here and comment on how ungrateful and melancholy I am. You are exactly the reason why I exist. While I jokingly complain, you are probably on your angel-bordered template blog talking about tea and pretty little laces and bears and whatnot. Let's not forget your house is full of knick knacks and your closet is full of Christmas sweaters. If only I had a thimble collection I would feel less melancholy. If only. Try isolating X for days on end with an Expo pen until your fingers bleed. So I am exaggerating. But you are not. You are over there with your pink sweat shirt sipping some earl grey as I type.