Tag Archives: lies

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Surreal failure

I am still thinking about Friday’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: failure. Now that I am middle aged (by my clinic definition, which put over 90 as older), I think the biggest failure of my generation is a peaceful world. For me, a peaceful extended family. I am good friends with my father’s family and my ex-husband’s family. But the maternal family, well. I have thought about that for the last two days: could I have changed that?

Yes, but at what cost? My sister followed the “family rules” on that side. She is dead from cancer. My mother also followed the rules and died younger than me from cancer. I can’t say that the rules cause cancer. But doesn’t our culture say over and over, be yourself? To fit in the family diaspora, I would have to play the triangulation game and gossip about others as they have gossiped about me. No, thank you, no. I don’t want to. They seem to need a family member to hate and have chosen me and labelled me and call me angry. I think they are silly and emotionally immature. At the very least, I would have had to keep my mouth shut and accept them gossiping about me.

The family failure and untrue gossip, with no one ever asking for my viewpoint, mirrors the US culture. Split and needing someone to hate. At this rate, we’ll need the hippies back, with flowers and joy and counter culture and dropping out. Someone fun, at least until the drugs wear off. Someone to say, we need joy back, we need friends, we need love.

It’s not just my failure though. The family failed. They make cruel choices and target people. It happened in my generation, my mother’s, my grandparents. I wonder if it is happening in my adult children’s generation. Who is the next target? Who will refuse to counter-gossip and fight with each source? My adult children are not part of it at all, because I had less and less interest in spending time with mean gossips and I did not want to expose my children.

Lies and drama and meanness and gossip. I hope my adult children’s generation does better. We went to Wicked on Thursday. I did not like it much. Too much drama. Why do we want drama? The world seems more and more surreal. Give me the lovely hike we did on Friday instead, Echo Canyon.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompts: failure and surreal.

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The boring vampire

I meet a boring vampire
when I am boring too
when I am worrying with angst and ire
and have too much to do

It’s in the time of covid
We start to walk the beaches
The vampire won’t take paxlovid
His ego overreaches

He says his life’s perfection
He says his brain can’t fit his head
He has no belief in resurrection
That’s probably because he’s dead

I wonder that he lies
Does he think that I don’t see?
The person that believes the lies
Must be him, not me

I grieve before he ousts me
He says he’ll always be my friend
And he speaks of longing to be free
I know there will be an end

I know before he ousts me
He says we’re friends forever
I blink and calmly see
That it will soon be never

Some vampires don’t need staking
They do it to themselves
Isolation of their making
Hoarding blood upon their shelves

______________________________

The photograph is a “swamp robin” (Varied Thrush) from my yard, December 2022.

This has nothing to do with the Ragtag Daily Prompt: festival. Except that swamp robins are very festive.

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Unclean

Housework is a slightly sensitive word for me today.

Sol Duc and I moved two days ago, from the Hilton Home2 Go (NOT recommended if you are long term and want to cook) to a furnished house.

Wonderful, right? Except the stove was all splattered with grease inside, the microwave grease and a dirty paper towel and the refrigerator was all fingerprints. Ick.

I called the rental person and he showed up with cleaning gear and did a cursory clean. I did the fridge. Then I started thinking. The only cleaning equipment I brought was new sponges, so I started washing out drawers and they are ALL dusty. This place was NOT cleaned. And the photograph is the grill in back: filthy AND there is no cleaning equipment. The two tables are built for someone taller than me, so I looked at a plastic table in the garage to use for a desk. There is a card table of cork in the garage. And behind the card table is mouse poop and a dead mouse. I return the card table and get out of there.

Now I am grossed out and annoyed. I contact my temp company and the rental person. “Has poison been used in the garage?” I ask, for Sol Duc’s sake. “And what about the yard?”

“No, no, no spraying. There has never been any evidence of pests there.”

“Well, there is evidence now.”

Right after our conversation, the Round Up truck arrives to spray weeds. Um, no. So I contact my temp company. The rental guy sets up a service to come clean. “Garage too, and I want everything pulled out from the walls.” Ok, there are cardboard boxes and stuff that belongs to the owners in the garage. Mouse heaven, honestly. And my impression is that this rental person is NOT going to tell the owners about the mice. I don’t trust him a bit now, so I only want them to clean when I am present, which means Wednesday at 6 pm. And there is no way they’ll finish the garage that night unless they are cursory. I want the floors and bathrooms cleaned. I have already done shelves and drawers. The stove racks aren’t clean.

I am NOT cleaning that grill. I am also NOT buying grill cleaning equipment. It is hella annoying.

I’ve always left places AT LEAST as clean as I found them. I think this rental person is not truthful. He said it’s the owner who has the weed spraying service, but then he should have said, “I don’t think so.” So there could well be rodent poison in the garage, he has no idea and won’t check.

Ick. Some people are really icky.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: housework.

Yeah, I am thinking of the scene in the second half of the song. Yep.

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Sterling

Mary and Nissa are at the fundraiser. Only $100 each!

“I am the man for the job,” says Joe. He is elegant in a suit and tie and crisp white shirt. “I don’t lie. I don’t break laws. I don’t even speed! I am a man of sterling character!”

Mary and Nissa enjoy the fundraiser very much. Nissa is driving Mary home afterwards.

“He’s so wonderful! And that meal! Did you see all the silver? He is the man for the job!”

Nissa turns the car into Mary’s driveway. She turns the car off and looks at Mary.

“What?” says Mary.

Nissa pulls a spoon out of her pocket.

“You stole a silver spoon?” says Mary, appalled.

Nissa breaks it in half. It splinters.

“Wood. With silver paint. Don’t be fooled, Mary.” Nissa hands Mary the two wooden halves and Mary stares at them. Nissa gets out to help Mary in to the house.

After she is situated, walker within reach, Mary says, “I may rethink that donation I was going to make. Thank you for coming with me, Nissa.”

Nissa smiles. “You are welcome. Thank you for taking me.”

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The woman in the picture is new to my home. She has a tag that reads “Chubby Purple Mama”. She was made by an artist in town, Karen Renee Page, who died in September. Many dolls were given for a fundraiser. This doll has crystals and a piece of wood in her belly. Without them she is not balanced. I added one of the chalcedony nodules that I find here on the beach.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sterling.

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(You always know) post trauma

You always know

You always know
when I am afraid
when I am running
when I am hiding
how afraid I am

when I keep secrets

You always know
so far
when I am triggered and terrified
and hiding and broken
and pretending to be ok

so far
you respond
and are gentle
draw me out
offer food
and company

You always know
so far
and I am still afraid
and I am still planning
and this is what I am hiding
the plan for what I will do

What I will do
when you know
you always know
when you know
but you don’t
respond

when you don’t respond
and aren’t gentle
don’t draw me out
don’t offer food
or company

You always know
so far

But I feel safer
if I don’t
trust

11/28/21

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Hello universe

You know what?

I want to get remarried. Add that, Beloved, to me wanting someone to love and to love someone.

Commit, damn it.

And that is what I now want. Thank you recent ex for showing me what I want.

I want to be myself from the start.

I want to notice bullshit and walk away before we get involved.

I don’t want to be controlled, I don’t want to control, I want a partner.

I don’t want to be enabled, I don’t want to enable, I want mutual respect and caring.

I am not your shrink, you are not my shrink, and if one of us needs a shrink, we should find one.

I want to notice lies and walk away before we get involved.

I want to speak up if you tell me lies, or I want to back away for good.

I want to be loved and I want to love. By the same person, damn it.

Hear my prayer, Beloved. Hello, universe. Here I am.

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Pandamnit “friend”

I had a friend during the pandemic. A very close friend. The friendship developed over a year.

It ran into trouble. I got my fourth pneumonia. He said, “I need to return to my real life.” I should have walked away, but he had promised. “We will always be friends.”

The adult part of me knows that always and never are lies. But the small child connection to the Self wants to believe, oh so badly. The adult notes “That is a lie. You are lying to yourself, because I don’t believe always or never.”

The child has eternal hope.

A year later, abandonment. The adult is cynically unsurprised. The small child part weeps.

And my church is melting down. Me too. I wrote a peace poem and promptly got into a fight. Devil’s fall up to angels and then they fall down again. A peace poem sets me up to fail. The ends don’t justify the means and I may resign from the church.

The fallout from the pandemic is only starting. Everyone is grieving, everyone is hair trigger.

Peace you and anything you have lost in this Pandamnit.

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Email quack spam: try CBD oil for free!

Lovely email QUACK spam. TRY CBD OIL FOR FREE!

“The Miracle Molecule! Everything You Need To Know About the Health Benefits of CBD Oil“. The link implies that the article was in Reuters. I ain’t pressing no spam link. Internet search on Reuters Everything You Need to Know About the Health Benefits of CBD Oil does not bring up a Reuters article.

“All natural formula. All CBD products use proven, organic all natural ingredients that are toxin-free.”

Ok, now WAIT a minute. Proven? By what the hell method? We dropped some and got high so it’s good? And don’t get me started on toxin-free. Sure, and they’ll sell you a bridge too.

Let’s discuss all natural.

Is CBD oil “all natural”? Um. Well, it could be organically grown, I will give them that. There have been pesticide poisonings from illegal pot and the laws for growers vary state by state. Check your state laws re whether they have specified what the growers can use on the marijuana plants. Paraquat is very strongly implicated in Parkinson’s (https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/20094060/) and you don’t want that, do you?

How do you define “all natural”? Innocent virgin farmer girls and boys, skipping through the pot plans and milking the oil out gently? Oh, ye innocent and foolish peoples. Here is a nice article about fires in CBD processing plants: https://www.sandiego.gov/sites/default/files/dsdfire-38-1.pdf. They burn real good, it turns out.

The National Fire Protection Agency (NFPA) has guidelines: https://www.firefighternation.com/prevention/nfpa-approves-420-standard-on-fire-protection-of-cannabis-growing-and-processing-facilities/. You do keep up with the NFPA, don’t you?

An older article illustrating the problem: https://www.politico.com/story/2019/02/18/marijuana-factories-explosions-safety-issues-1155850.

And the title of this seems pretty self explanatory: https://extraxx.com/the-top-five-safety-concerns-in-a-cannabis-extraction-facility/. “Let’s begin with the obvious. When dealing with flammable gasses or liquids in extract production, there is a risk of fire or explosion during the handling process. The easiest way to understand the risk of fire or explosion is to consider the fire triangle. Essentially, a fire needs three things to start: a fuel source, oxygen, and an ignition source. The basic philosophy here is that by removing legs from the fire triangle, we can make the process safer; by removing two legs, an operator can make their extraction process significantly less incident-prone.” Later in the article: “there are two tools that should be kept on site to make known the presence of unnoticed flammable vapors: a permanent LEL, or Lower Explosive Limit, monitor should be installed in the extraction room; and a handheld two or four gas portable monitor should be on site as well.”

I don’t have much experience with LFL monitors. Now I want to buy some of the gummies and try lighting them on fire. Does the smoke make one high? Well, I think it depends what it is suspended in. I thought vaping was insane when I read that some of the nicotine vapes suspended the product in antifreeze. Um, your dog may die if they drink it. Absorption in the lungs just does not seem wise. Also, some of the vapes get so hot that heavy metals get in the lungs. You know, lead and stuff. When I researched it last, China was turning out 500 different kinds of vape machines. Uh, ick, don’t do that. Sugar burns so the gummies might. I have some “Annie’s organic fruit gummies” so I can check whether they burn. Though they shouldn’t contain CBD oil. Now you know what I am doing while disabled. Home chemistry and on line research.

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Dark

May gives me time to go dark. My mother died May 15, 2000, right by Mother’s Day. Her birthday is May 31, right by Memorial Day.

I wrote this poem when I was not sure I would survive this round of pneumonia. I would like to see grandchildren. So far so good. It got a little dark, though. Sometimes it does that.

When I sit down to write a poem, I don’t know where it is going. I sit down with a question. The poem is the answer. Sometimes the poem is where I want to be emotionally. Usually I am not there yet.

it is almost as if each poem were a prayer.

_________

Hello loneliness

Here I am again
give me a hug
it’s been a while

I’ve been so happy
I feel so loved

he has to go on a trip
to care for family

meanwhile
I am so sick
my heart hurts most of the time

it is tiring
it is tiresome

I may get better
or not

hello loneliness
hello illness
hello fraility
hello death

pull up a chair

and I’ll make tea