Spinning Evictions Into Fabulous New Starts

We’ve had our fair share of rather large, hairy spiders in the house recently.  I’m can’t prove this, but I’m pretty certain that somewhere, somehow, there is a vacancy sign on our house.  A vacancy sign for spiders.  All kinds of spiders.

The thing is, as much as we are accepting of spiders, we draw the line at them in the house us.  Beloved doesn’t like the thought of them spinning a web or two on his body, suffocating him.  He is positive that given a chance, the spiders will kill us with their webs and then lay eggs on our rotting corpses.  (He is lovely for things like that!)  I have a fear that they will crawl all over me while I’m sleeping, or worse crawl into my ears.  Don’t ask!

So of course  after encountering several of them over a short period of time, and not the little  hardly see them kind either, well naturally we began to wonder about why we were having so many come for a visit.  It had crossed my mind that what we were seeing was generations of them, all related mind you , in the house.  I wasn’t thrilled about this, but there is something some what acceptable about them all bring family.  And then Beloved pointed out that they weren’t all the same variety of spider and well all hell broke loose.

Multiple types of spiders?  In my house?  What is next a spider revolution?  Oh no, not at all my friends.  I had Beloved evict them, send them out of he house and put into the big bad world.  We rationalized that at least we weren’t killing them until someone pointed out most spiders that are in the house are adapted to that and can’t survive outside.  So now what were we to do?

I’m not sure what we were supposed to do, but we borrowed a friend’s young daughter.  She seemed exceedingly well qualified for evicting spiders.  She has a habit of “coloring” them with markers and setting them up in a new place.  Lovely pink, blue and yellow spiders, glowing with highlighter colors would be set in her boxes which had green grass and a few twigs.

what happened to the spiders once they were relocated into their new houses I’m not sure, but I like to think what we really did is help the spiders.  Think of it as the witness relocation program.  First they got a disguise, in this case the lovely colors which also served as their new identity, and then she set them up in a furnished place to live too.  And we were missing a few spiders, much to our delight!

Granted it doesn’t explain how they are coming in and setting up shop, but we are sure that our new eviction technique may help hold them at bay.  That is unless the spiders really want to have a new identity, a make over and a new place to live. Mid word gets out about this and this is what they want we may have taken things and spun me into something worse for ourselves!

It’s In Their Nature, Or My Foolish Attempts

What started as a lovely walk down a peaceful lane ended up with me covered in mud and a whole new respect for rabbits. In particular the speed and craftiness of the rabbits. I’m not sure about country rabbits, but the city ones are a sight to behold.

They are deceptive animals, sitting there looking so tame and docile. Oh they are tricky things, letting you get close, so very close to them and then they turn and wheel away with amazing speed. Of course they don’t run too far away, just far enough to feel safe, but where you can still easily see them.

Teases that’s what they are, great fuzzy teases. And the dog falls for it each time. I’ve tried to explain it to the dog, but he doesn’t listen. I saw the rabbit before he did, so I thought I’d get him to go another way, but he wasnt having any of it.

Oh no, he knew there was a rabbit, he would not be denied. And so I made a deal with the dog. Yep I made a deal with the dog, he wouldn’t run like a crazed nut and I’d reward him for the good behavior when we got home.

So obviously the first flaw in my worry was in thinking rational logic would somehow override basic animal instinct. The instinct for the dog is to chase the rabbit. The instinct for the rabbit is to, well run and tease the dog. I’m pretty sure both of them are in on the grater joke, which is to make the human run.

The second flaw in the logic is that the dog lives in the moment so I could promise him all the bones in the world if he could wait a few minutes knowing he won’t wait. He can’t wait, it’s just not in his nature.

So of course we went running down the lane. In fits and starts, the rabbit setting the pace and the stops, the dog basically dragging me behind. And of course the two of them decide a muddy oath is more fun, because why not?

At some point the chase became boring to the rabbit and the dog, so it stopped. But not before we all had a mud bath. Perhaps they think it does wonders for their fur and thus for my skin. They were wrong.

What it did for the dog was it got him a bath, it got me a nice hot shower and well I’m not sure what it got the rabbit, other than a laugh or two.

Laundered Sheets

Freshly laundered sheets make all the difference in the world when you are feeling under the weather of worse than just under the weather.

I’m not sure why, but fresh, clean sheets just make things more comfortable and soothing.

I know this because all too often I’ve been too sick to do anything other than just kind of rest. People assure me it comes with chronic illnesses like lupus. Some days are better than others and some days are kind of stay in bed or lounge days. Not because you want them to be, because it can’t be helped. Because you simply cannot do anything else. Sometimes you have just enough energy to dress yourself. Sometimes you have just enough for a shower, but not to do your hair. Those are the days you need to just rest. Those are the days that fresh sheets are awesome.

Of course those are the days you can’t manage your own fresh sheets. When Beloved’s around, he takes care of fresh sheets. When he’s not then I simply dream of fresh sheets or drag myself around to deal with the need.

I’ve had years, countless years to get a handle on e whole slug and sloth routine. I’m pretty good at hiding it, at least until I can’t any longer. Thankfully by then I’m someplace safe, someplace I can hide from everyone and give into the needs or fresh sheets.

When You Realize You Are Old

She flopped down in the chair. She had dropped the bag on the floor next to the chair with a huge sigh before flopping into the chair. There was no other word to describe it other than flopping. It was as if her body lost all strength as she saw the chair and flop, she landed in the chair like a fish out of water.

Beloved was seeing to her tea because in his world, tea makes things better. Sure tea won’t find us world peace, but it will some how help to make things seem a little better. Perhaps not everything is all better, but things seem to be not so bad with a cup of tea. If you ask me that’s because of the way he makes tea, but being that im more of a coffee girl, what do I know? 😉

Of course when you are in your teens every little thing can be the end of the world and flopping into a chair becomes, well, habit-forming. Every minor issue becomes the drama of a lifetime and sometimes you just can’t go home. Which is why she was in our house, because she just could not go home. Ever. They didn’t understand her there.

I had the strange thought cross my mind, the thought that to her, her parents had never been teenagers. Her parents were always old and just would never understand. I suppose I felt that way about my own once, but I can’t recall ever thinking they were just always adults and had never been children themselves.

Beloved came with the magic exilir, the magical brew that would fix everything…tea. She accepted the tea and assured us she was never going home again, ever. She had come to our place hoping she could stay here, with us. Just until she was good on her own feet. Because fifteen year old girls can get on their feet in a city with no problem at all.

Tea was Beloved area of expertise, dramatic, crying fifteen year old girls however were not. And so that’s why I had stayed at the table with her, offering her some comfort and letting her know she could go home. She should go home to her parents because nothing could be that bad. Except at fifteen everything is that bad.

What came out, in fits and starts and far too many tears, was the fact that she had failed an exam at school. Failed as in received only twenty percent and she had studied for it. Sort of. And so her world was over, her parents wouldn’t understand. Those people would lock her in her room, make her study and have no life.

The problem for the girl wasn’t that we didn’t care, but that we are both academics and value education grateful. We don’t think everyone needs university, we don’t think everyone needs to be in academics, but one just have a solid education to begin with.

When she explained how she sort of studied, Beloved shook his head because in his world you study as hard as you have to for as long as you have to. The fact that friends are heading out for a few nights doesn’t factor into it at all. And so it was that we didn’t understand either. We became old people who just didn’t get it, although we had been young once,

The thing is I get it, I totally understand where she is coming from. But I also have the years behind me to know that those few minutes of fun and result in a lot of regrets later on. Try as I might,min couldn’t seem to communicate this to her. Maybe it was the tears and the sniffling. Maybe it was Beloved’s less than sympathetic face. And maybe it was me.

In the end she went home because we were unreasonable and her parents seemed a better option. In the end, the tea lost its magical properties and we ha dot face the fact that we were now officially responsible, old people!

Blanketed In Comfort

A while back Beloved bought me a throw, well its larger than a throw really. It’s a fuzzy, comfortable blanket. Move kept it away from the dog’s paws be uses I just want one thing without the dog all over it. I know that sounds mean, but I’ve shared a few other nice blankets and quilts with the dog. Evidently the dog did not learn sharing as he believes anything he puts his body on becomes his. Hence the need to save my nice blanket from him!

Normally I’ve used this blanket for those early morning hours when Beloved has headed off to work before the sun has gotten up. I curl up in the big chair with that blanket and some good reading material and wait for the dawn to come. Lately it’s been the reverse, I’m waiting until the wee hours when he comes home. We knew there’d be days like this and I’m not complaining because it’s only for a short period of time.

When I’ve felt poorly a little bacK, rather than stay in bed, I’d struggle through a shower, get dressed and then grab the blanket and find a cozy place to rest.

I was a bit surprised today, to find the blanket out because I remember putting it away. I’d had a little longer time on campus then expected so Beloved was home before me. He happened to have grabbed my blanket and settled down to wait for me to come home. Only he got a little too comfortable and fell asleep, under the blanket. Actually he had a fist curled up on the blanket and he looked so darn peaceful. So I felt him where he was and headed off to bed. Because that blanket is magic.

I Doubt It

I was brought up to never take anything as proof, to question, doubt and reason and come to my own conclusions.  I’m pretty certain this behavior drove my school teachers up a wall and I know it more than once backfired on my parents themselves!😉

While a healthy dose of skepticism is a good thing, too much of it is not.  Doubt and questioning are also healthy, in the right measurements.  The danger lies in allowing yourself to doubt everything including yourself.

I don’t know when it happened, or even how, but I started to question my own abilities and skills.  Now don’t get me wrong, sometimes you get an idea to do something and the smartest thing to do is question whether you should be doing this or if you can do it.  Chances are you probably shouldn’t.

But when you start to doubt your abilities to Doing things you know you can do, you should do, there is a problem.  It’s a small slide and a little slip down to doubting everything you do.  A dangerous place to be in and of itself.  Add to the mix an abusive person and you its a matter of time before things explode.  When things explode, it’s never for the good.

If you already doubt yourself, your abilities and your worth and then have someone else confirm your negative thoughts and ideas and soon there is no doubt, it is a reality.  Once that becomes a reality it’s a long climb, a tough climb to get back out of it.

Even after years of being out of that hole, the doubt of self lurks just there on the edge of  things.  Normally I can keep them at bay,  but once and awhile it takes the strength of friends, loved ones and such to prop me up and away from that deep hole.

I have yet to find a way to show my appreciation for this wonderful thing they do.  Why?  Because I doubt there is anything I can do that is enough.  I doubt that I can fully express my gratitude for this.  And there is the problem, my old friend doubt!  Perhaps Thomas (Doubting Thomas) can help me find a way past this!

The Addition

So we discovered we will be adding to the family after all. We were pretty sure that the one dog and the two of us would be enough for our little family unit, but evidently this is not to be. We are expecting, and we never thought we would be here. Not in a million years!

Before anyone gets too confused, let me make it clear, we are expecting another four-footed child. One that roofs and barks and has a tail that wags.

What happened is a friend of Beloved’s learned that her mom is going to have to go into a home, she has a serious heart condition and is no longer able to care for herself, or her little dog.

The ideal person to look after the dog, her daughter, just happens to have allergies. Beloved couldn’t stand to hear that the poor dog may have to go to a shelter, and so he stepped up to the plate.

He volunteered our home while I was getting IV treatment. When I got home he informed me that we were expecting an addition. He assured me that the puppy, not yet a year old, is house trained. And Beloved promised to walk and feed him when we get him. I won’t have to do a thing, according to Beloved.

Shh don’t let him in on it, but I’m more than okay with this new addition, it feels right. Besides the dog is used to being dotted on and having humans around, going to a shelter may have a very different ending, one that’s just not happy.