Are You Kidding Me?

I've worked at giving my new yard some character and atmosphere. My goal has been to keep the fast-growing trees in top form so that I can look at lots of green.

I have several sitting areas on my modest property. My favorite is a corner with an arbor that is graced by redwood trees. I have two sealed boxes of dog ashes that are the remains of my loyal boy Travis and my child-like Bruno. I have held onto these sealed boxes until I find the perfect place for my dogs to rest. This corner sitting area is ideal--or WAS ideal.

The house next door is finally finished, and they have occupied their property and then some. Here is the view of my favorite back yard space:

Right now I hate my new neighbors and the UGLY net that surrounds their trampoline. They've shoved this monolith to the south side of their house, near their garage so that it's not in their range of sight. Yet, this piece of junk is in eye shot of every main window of my house.

I'm super irritated, disappointed, furious. Do I ask my neighbors to move this? I doubt they care about my feelings. Do considerate people think about what they place in their neighbors' view?

Cough City

Empty Kleenex boxes liter several rooms of my house as a result of my recent bout with a formidable virus. My worn out nose has run all over the place. My poor nose is red, peeling, scabbed and not fit for a social life.

Woe is me. In fact, I wanted to call this blog "Woe Is Me," but somebody with a pathetic life must have cut in front of me and grabbed the title first.

My nose has finally begun to settle down. But last night my throat told me that feeling better only marks the end of phase 1. During a marathon coughing spell that lasted all night, I just about yakked up my spleen. I am dizzy and disoriented from my coughing spell. Sleep alludes me. I am sleepy. Do I find peace back in the bed sheets or shall I ease into daytime life by way of chores and phone calls? Here is a likeness of me (not me) on Christmas Day. I wonder if the girl in this photo had her flu shot.

Have I mentioned that I always sneeze seven times?

I won't include images of the plugged up headaches that came with this cold. They were too freaky.

They Call It Stormy Monday

This photo represents drama in my life and unrest in my heart.

I generally prefer to see myself as an upbeat person, someone who sees the proverbial glass as half full. I don't like whiners. I don't like victims. I don't like helpless people.

I'm giving myself permission to whine, wail, bitch, moan, and vent in an intense way so that I can fully express my anger and sadness, mostly to exorcise feelings that keep me from moving forward.

My life is good. Most of my challenges are about me and not anyone else. But sometimes I get good and pissed off, and I want to FEEL MY ANGER and then let it go. I want to LOATHE someone. I want to be FURIOUS with my family members who don't understand what makes me tick, even after I spell it out. Something in them needs to refuse me.

I conclude that I was dropped into the wrong family. My father and I learned to understand each other before he died. This gift was a huge surprise. My aunt and I are a good fit. (Case in point: No one else calls my 87-year-old aunt or writes to her but me.) And I adore my aunt. I cherish the aunt/niece relationship, but this concept is foreign to my family. There is a potential relationship with my beautiful "prodigal girls," as long as I tow the line and keep my truths to myself.

Right now I have three people in my life who get me (CT, SC and BG). Who could ask for more?