You are what you think

Maybe this has more truth to it than I ever realized.

I have witnessed first hand just how a paranoid, angry mind can create “like” things.

“Don’t do this or this will happen”, well guess what? It happens over and over again! Someone who lives in such a fearful state constantly, cannot by any means, be at all healthy or positive. Then why or how could anything good and sincere come out of such thinking? I don’t think it can. I believe that if you are constantly fearful and paranoid , no good will come of it. Living with Jill for a year has shown me this. What a Blessing and what a lesson! A very hard year, yes. But none the less, I/we came out stronger and more charged for life than ever!

This deep dark abyss of negative energy and control far exceeded anything I had experienced before. The biggest lesson here was how people we are close to aren’t always what or who we believe they are. It is easy maybe for others to shake but for me, it was huge!

Being someone real in a fake World is never easy. I am sure we aren’t alone.

 

Everything is about Jill

Ever meet one of those people who manage to turn everything into them? Well, this is Jill. She manages to only talk about herself, her woes, her clothes, her work, her appetite and anything her in general. Their never seems to be two people having a conversation . It is one listening (me) and one talking only about herself (Jill). When you bring up something about yourself, you get two responses. Either she says absalutely nothing at all. Or she manages to make it about herself. She never, ever, validates what you say. She never asks how you feel about something. She always continues to go on and on about herself. In the car, at the dinner table, on the phone, in the a.m and in the p.m. You can literally ask her everyday how her day is and she will never ask you how yours was. I lived with her for a year and was not asked one time how my day was.

It became a game for myself and my girls. I would ask her questions. She would go on about herself and we would wait to see if she would ask me/us how we are. It never happened, doesn’t this blow you away? It does me, I have not experienced such narcissistic behavior at length before.. It gets exhausting and when you have days of exhaustion when you just can’t do it anymore, it’s tough.

The key is to stop caring though for some reason, it still hurt my feelings.

Have you ever heard the expression “bad people do good things too”? I have to apply it to her. It isn’t easy to comprehend, especially when you yourself are in denial. That someone you have known for so long is actually a shallow, uncaring human being.

My biggest revenge was to smile and be as perky as possible as often as I could.

With her very elusive, creepy personality, being “happy” was also the perfect protector.

The outdoors with Jill

The outdoors with Jill.

The outdoors with Jill

Usually one would think being outdoors on a Spring day would be relaxing.  What I have learned being around Jill is that when you around her you are never relaxed. She is tension in all forms. Her rules and her control issues squeeze their way outside her doors. She has a system for absalutely everything. Nothing at all comes natural or with grace. It is tense and stressful and rigid. Although she gets up, makes her daily list after hemming and hawing over a piece of paper for an hour, she acts as if she plans on having a restful Saturday.

Get out of her way because she has no social graces and no desire to even think of returning your hello and smile. Their is no exception to this rule. She makes herself stressed by planning each and every moment in detail while checking it off proudly and sternly. “Who IS this person”, I’ve asked myself a million times. Blown away over and over by her inconsiderate, cold personality.  Anyway, that’s another rant.

She puts on her boots that are waiting in their designated corner. Off she goes into the back yard. She grabs a shovel and randomly begins to dig where she has a flower garden. It’s an angry, scowling event. Her face is serious and literally by now an hour has gone by and she is in the same place. A load of wash goes in at this point. She doesn’t keep an eye on her wash. remember everything goes in. The whites the underwear, the hose, the darks and yes the kitchen towels.

Off she returns to her scowling grimace. Her hunched over body wearing the perfect attire for the event. What happens next is she pulls up a lawn chair and lays in the sun to sun her angry face for the rest of the day. I am not kidding. It is this huge event with the list, the perfect clothes and the energy then she lays down and mopes and mopes. She comes in to get food I’ve made, eats it sitting on the porch and mopes some more. The hole is there, the shovel stuck in the ground.  She might come in to take out her clothes on a warm day to dry, hopefully. Even though I will wash those kitchen towels again in secret.

She will grab the phone after a few hours and tell her Sisters that she has been working alone all day in the garden and is beat. Not just that ,but she will borderline cry over the exhaustion. After I witnessed this a few times, I lost even more respect for this shell of a person I thought was my friend. This routine altered a little over Spring and Summer but I tell you what, it was the same.

I told her I wanted to plant a vegetable garden for us all. She seemed supportive and very OK with it. This made me nervous. She followed it up with saying “it’s all yours, do whatever you want, I’ll stay out of it”. This was worse because she has so many control issues and is so passive my entire innerself set off an alarm.  I went ahead with it mostly because my oldest Daughter has the greenest thumb I’ve ever known and she truly loves the earth under her feet.  We had it tilled . I bought some horse manure and in went the seeds. I had gone to the store to purchase a tiny greenhouse a month before and seedlings had begun inside by the southside window. This wasn’t easy to pass with the “rules” person. She claimed it to be hers so I suppose it was OK then?

Gardens are alot of work. We put many hours into this plot. Turning it from a rock garden to an area that held beans, peas, carrots, onions, leeks, kale, lettuce , cucumber, melons, tomatoes and potatoes . I felt terrible for my Daughter. Simply out of the sake of torment and jealousy, Jill would go into our garden with a destructive goal. She would “accidently” step on babies. She would want to “help” weed and pull the vegetables. While my daughter was out their doing her best to protect her hard work, Jill would pluck off new blooms to “show her” how to garden. She knew so little about so much it was mind blowing. I have learned the true definition of ignorance by getting to know this person I thought I knew.

Was their any reason she couldn’t just stay in her flower garden and give us a little peace? After some time passed, i realized that any super control freak with a huge ego like herself would find that impossible.

We gave up on the garden out of pure sadness and frustration with Jill. She won, she sucked every ounce of pleasure that all of our hard work should have given us. We salvaged a few things and let the weeds cover the rest. the weeds drove her mad! This was great revenge. She would take one of the girls aside and tell them she wanted it weeded. So I would mow it over with the lawn mower. This she hated but wouldn’t tell me directly, because she is passive. I have to confess, I loved it. I was determined to get as much enjoyment as possible out of every day and not allow her to bring me into her negative abyss.

With her severe issues, now and again she would “pepper” the routine with an occasional , seemingly, kind deed. This made me highly suspicious. I would find out later my suspicions were right on the money. So I am not even going to mention them. I would smile as much as I could , hum a tune while washing the dishes and joke with my girls daily. It was my goal to keep our personal space void of her dark and dismal energy. Our Spring and Summer outdoors was a challenge at that house. The good news is, is that she wasn’t always home. I worked from home and we had many hours to feed our happy spirits.

The outdoor rules were many, even outside of her garden. You can only imagine how many rules came with “her” tools, “her” clothesline, “her shed” that she calls a barn . She is also a very, very fearful person. So afraid that she hadn’t gone past a certain point in her yard to explore her own land! I find this, I don’t know, unbelievable. We discovered blueberries, raspberries, strawberries , wild grapes and apples. She never knew she had these on her land. Why? Because the little control circle goes around and around and it is super tiny with very poor vision. This was an eye opener for us. When she saw us eating berrries or she helped herself to berry cobbler that I made, she refused to believe we got them from her property. Why? Pure ignorance is the only explanation I can dig up. Have you ever had someone you thought you were close to deny something right in front of their face? Deny the obvious to a point you might just pull out your hair or run screaming? I’ve had several of these “points” with her, several. I have learned so much about myself. It has been a learning experience to say the least. Because Jill had not seen these for herself , she did not believe they came from her land. When we offered to show her, she went into a shell and said maybe later. It never did happen. She chose to remain ignorant in her very irrational fearful, controlling ,freakish mind. Irrational is a perfect word to help describe her personality. The funny thing is, she openly prides herself on being very rational, figures.

We were living with a crazy person.

Jills Rules and more rules

This category is about rules. Now some of us , most of us have rules. This person has rules about rules within rules and often they will change or switch or be denied. The worst ones are the sneaky rules with many meanings  and if you aren’t on the ball, look out!

I am going to simply list the rules :

No electronics in the house being used while she is home. Why? Well, she tells me it is because she is around them all day at work and likes to imagine she is living back in time. Back in time as in Little House On The Prarie. This she said to me, I didn’t make it up. Please keep in mind that she sits in front of a computer at work and has a cell phone. I had to get online at the house because of my work and carefully not upset her or be online in her presence. So much to the degree that I had to pack up my computer and hide all cables to make her happy. I did secretly set up a Wii in the girls room with a tiny TV. Walking on our tiptoes, being careful always.

I mentioned she had a TV but I didn’t mention that she does not have cable. That is fine , I am more than OK with that.

Every corner has something glass or ceramic in it. They collect tons of cat hair and dust . They are also very chipped and broken and carefully balanced with the broken pieces holding on. Heaven help you if you are sweeping with a broom or walking off the grid and bump one of these. This is a major rule, not to relocate or turn anything in another direction. She will literally walk through the house and double check everything to see if it has been moved an inch.

The lights cannot be on during the day and at night when leaving one room you must turn off that light before turning on another. Thank goodness I have my girls because it is hard to see in the dark. We pretty much would tag team the whole “light” rule.

The toilet can only be flushed when you have done a number two, a poo, a deposit. While she is home she gets very upset if you flush for anything else. At night the toilet gets full with four girls in the house and come morning it is very smelly. This is not a pleasant thing at all.

Hand soap dispensers were constantly being filled up with water to “stretch” it. Keep in mind, I bought all the paper products, food, soaps etc.

Shower rules were that you could only shower every other day. The showers could not be lengthy and no baths were allowed.

The hot water heater had to be turned off every day at four p.m. I also paid for the electric. so if it was shower day or you wanted warm water of any kind, you had to go down in the basement.

Laundry had to be all large loads only with cold water only and you must hang out the clothes. At thirty degrees and ten degrees that is impossible. I secretly washed my clothes also. I like to seperate my clothes and wash some in warm water. I also put them in the dryer making sure I put all of the settings back to where she left them.

One towel for a week per person was suppose to be effective. We all have hair that is very long and really do enjoy clean towels so I used the same color towels and she was none the wiser. Secretly doing laundry helped with this also. Her towel hung on a hook outside of the bathroom door. Walking by you could see skid marks and smell that dew smell again that turns my tummy. I cannot imagine how or why she would want to dry herself off with something that stunk so bad. Sometimes I even washed this towel and then put it back on the hook.

The cat box for her cat was about three feet from the stove in the kitchen and it had to stay there. I don’t need to tell you how that would smell. The rule for cleaning out her cats box was shown to me more than told. She displayed outside way behind the house how to sling the stink box so it spreads more equal to her liking. This is her cat remember? Yes, I emptied the box and no I did not do it her way. She won’t use clump litter. This litter had a horrible odor. Yes, more odors.

The oven had the inital rule of “do not use”! But when I showed her that it will not implode and that I was going to use it regardless, she said nothing. The stove top had a huge broken container holding utensils she never used ( she doesn’t cook). I could not move this and it was also full of cat hair and cobwebs. I did give it a cleaning. The burners didn’t work well but they didn’t have any real rules. I did have to leave the oven open to release the heat even in the Summer when it was over eighty degrees in the house.

How Jill recycles is a stressful event in itself. Most of us have three containers and by now we know what to do with our things. She would search through the garbage daily to make sure I wasn’t throwing anything away that could be recycled. This is a woman who recycles her hair coloring bottles. She stopped going through the garbage when I emptied a bag from the bathroom into it. I don’t need to give details but it was gross enough to make her stop.

On the day when she decides to take out the recylables, she makes a very huge issue out of it. She will throw things around, grumble and make excessive noises. I have told her many times that I would be happy to take that chore. No! Oh No! I don’t know how to do it like her! Ugh, OK then. This big show takes about half the day because she never ever completes a job when she starts it without first starting three or four more.

No eating on the sofa or in the living room, but we still did.

The kitchen sink rules, I explained in the last post.

She did not want anyone up before her during the week because she needed the entire house to get ready. I still got up to work.

No loud noises. No talking politics or World events, ever. The furnace could only go as high as 58 degrees in the cold of Winter.

Rules at the dinner table were that nobody could leave until the collective were done.Chewing rules and chair rules also. I do have to add that she has the worse table manners and eating habbits I have ever seen.

We were also shown how to close a door properly.

While my girls would crochet, they were instructed to never leave a piece of yarn anywhere.

The TV could only be as high as eleven on the vomume when she is home.

All shoes and boots taken off and put on at a certain place.

The cat food had to be given in two spoonfull servings at a time, twice a day. She does not do this herslf.

During the heavy snow periods, no snow was allowed in the house. I did mention that we live in the country, right?

The children , although very respectful and clean, were not allowed in the room with the dead animal throne. This was considered her space and it was full of clutter she calls decor. It also seems to be a throne to herself being that she has surrounded herself with pictures of her. It isn’t a pleasant room but that isn’t the point.

No candles can ever be lit. This is because they just walk off on their own and start fires, don’t you know.

Although she kept the house at such a warm temperature (a little joke). We were not allowed to stand too near to the heating vents.

No space heaters were allowed. The girls room got to forty at night.

The car has to be parked at the very back of the drive.

No leaving anything simmering on the stove, ever. One must stay within reach always.

This is the tip of the iceberg, more will surface in other subjects. Outside rules will be included in the post : “The Outside”.

 

 

 

Let’s call this category : Animal History and care.

I got Jill her very first dog ever. We were both young , i found an add with a description of a lovely soul searching for a good home. I connected the two and ta da!…. they were united. At this point in our friendship Jill was like a big sister to me. I grew up way to fast and was balancing much more than most my age. She was a wild one back then. She loved to go skating and eat out, dancing and parties. She attended these things more than I did. She was experiencing new found freedom from her 1’st marriage. This is when we first met and my impression was that she had the time and space for a dog. She did take care of Kay in a very controlling way. Tight collars and short leads, never able to run freely and tons of rules. On the other hand she get lots of tummy rubs and good food.

After I had left the State, Jill got more dogs along with her second Husband. The one that was a real dirtbag. The fake one who I was not fond of at all, remember?

So together apparently, they attained a lab mix (Lady), a beagle  (unnamed) and a big fur ball someone had found ( Buddy). Along with these doggies she had cats. She always took pride in saying that all of her animals were kooky. Well, I think that this trait was absorbed in the household. I can’t help but think this.

Her cats Dubie and Frank were from her 1’st marriage. Now Frank had the intense desire to urinate on anything and everything plastic (ish). He was a big cat that she isolated in one bedroom because her house was smelling even bad enough to bother her. I am sure he got attention and  was fed well, he was fat in his pictures. Dubie was just really scared all of the time and severely suspitious of others to the point of paranoid. Wild eyes and crawling around everyone. These two kitties died of natural causes and are now resting on her wobbly throne to the dead animals. I mentioned this in the first category.

Kiki is a girl Jill adopted from her Aunts house. I have heard several versions of how she got her. All of these came from Jill. So I’m not quite sure which one is real. Now Kiki I did get to know and let me tell you, she was nuts. Zooming through the house for no reason. Pooping in the litter box which is just inches from the kitchen. The cats poo smelled like nothing I have experienced before, that’s all I’m saying. She also would turn herself into a bowling ball and bash mine and my girls bedroom doors over and over at the wee hours of the morning, about two a.m. She would zoom down past me when I was walking down the stairs and look back with a look of being bummed that she didn’t trip me. I began to wonder if this was an evil cat and if that was possible. She sure was clever and her timing was impeccable.

This kitty was only a house cat. This was a very strict rule of the house. One day the girls and I come home to be greeted by the devilsh red squirrel that lives just outside. Yes, this fella or lady was in the house. Come to find out, it had chewed it’s way into the livingroom via a window Jill left open.The screen didn’t hold this critter out and guess who it didn’t hold in? Yep! Kiki went bye bye. She didn’t just go around the corner or in the woods, she never returned. Now how Jill dealt with that is another story coming up.

Out by the barn Jill had been feeding a stray big yellow cat. She called him “Biggie” and he eventually trusted her. At one point Biggie and Kiki were together prior to her leaving. I got to witness the two together and was not surprised to see that he did not like her. She was manipulating and got him in trouble all of the time. It was unbelievable how sly this Kiki was.

Now Biggie has a giant growth on his side. Jill says he seems to not mind it and refuses to have it looked at. He doesn’t seem to mind it, true. But it would be nice to maybe drain it? I am not a vet and it is not my kitty. I did tell myself though that as soon as I saw he was in pain I would take him. She seems to claim animals like a trophy and is about “owning” things. This guys personality bloomed when Kiki went away.He still remains at the Jill house and I do visit him. He doesn’t pay much attention to Jill and she doesn’t get so carried away with him like she did Kiki.

The dogs all died one by one they passed away. First Kay went then Lady the lab mix then just last year Buddy. I don’t mention the beagle because she didn’t like his barking and found a new home for him.

These dogs were left outside while she went to work all day. they were tied up in different areas and apparently barked the entire day. When she came home she controlled what they ate and who ate first along with how much water could be consumed. When they were taken to the vet for treatments and were diagnosed with infections or worms or fleas or what have you, they were never given the meds. All of this was done in her mind with great love and care. I personally do not see those qualities in her lack of nurturing.

I mention this because she is the same person who will leave a nasty note on a strangers car window re: a dog left in the car with windows cracked on a cool day. And she constantly rants about how neglectful people are with their pets. It’s a true challenge to bite my cheek on this one.

She currently is down to one cat and that is Biggie. I trust he will be fine and he does go outside on adventures so he has kept some independence. Being in the Country he seems very smart.

Did I mention she burried a cat outside in a tupperware container and talks about digging it up to see what it’s remains look like? I’ll let you ponder on that one.

 

A Year With Jill

This is about a grand adventure I took with my daughters from the West Coast to a very rural New England town.

The goal was to stay with a friend of some thirty some odd years and the plan took some turns. We left Hawaii and trained from Oregon to New England.

I thought it would be a fun and life changing experience to take an Amtrack across the entire U.S. This was our beginning, the first thrill of heading East begun. In reality, the train experience , even with it’s being stuck for hours in the Dakatokas, was a grand adventure. I could write a blog on this alone, it was a great time..

But this story is about what happens when we get to New England. I am leaving out the name of this town for obvious reasons. The train arrives , Jill greets us with a cold smile , “not so unlike her” I tell myself. We are exhausted from the five day journey and really looking forward to showers and a meal without motion. It is lovely to see the landscape I knew so well from my youth. It’s a raw and old feel, a place that holds some of my own ghosts.

I’ve stayed in touch with Jill over the years. Kept her up to date and she did the same as well. We exchanged photos as my family grew and we shared our woes over broken relationships, divorce and times of loss. I felt we had had a bond with roots that entwined so deep, nothing could hurt us. I learned that these feelings were just an illusion. This person had some serious issues with secrets, moods, addictions and anger. A person who managed to create such a perfect little World of her own. To the outside World she was a “Church goer” a “Do Gooder” a “straight and narrow worker and a white collar place” and an advocate of animals, backing it with her vegetarian diet and life choices for clothing and certain things that may apply to using anything animal. Never mind her severe neglect towards her own.These qualities were now the qualities that attracted me to her when we were so very young. These are images that she has created for others to see. The purpose? You tell me. I am clueless but maybe a shrink would have a field day with this? I am not here to analyze or even judge. I just want to share and not miss a morsel because I have experienced this and it’s real truth is more than enough to chew.

I don’t know if I made this clear but I choose to handle things dished out to me in life, with humor. It is the only way I have been able to get through this life I have. I have had a great life in many ways, don’t get me wrong. I do however have huge moments, pages, even chapters in my life that are painful. I don’t think many of us are exempt from this, not even Jill. But again, I have to share this experience.

I am going to cover this story in categories. This way I won’t leave anything out, hopefully. The first category is:

Decorating:

So  now that I have created the image of her “outside” personality correctly, I will share even more. Her home is an older home bought with her second Husband about twenty years ago. He fled as soon as possible, leaving the house to her and the little barn on eight acres. In all honesty, I couldn’t stand this guy . He was a fake himself and unable to keep up the act. Long story short, it backfired. This old house has qualities that one would find in an abandoned home or one just visited sparingly in warmer seasons perhaps. Wallpaper stripped leaving shreds of the older paper with lots of yellow wall left. Huge water stains all over the ceilings and walls are quite visable and cobwebs make it Halloween anytime of the year. The house is full of broken clocks, broken furniture, broken appliances, lots of broken knick knacks and cards that she dates and then leaves around. This is a woman who fills her rooms with decorating books . Books of blue and whites because she only decorates in blue and white. It also can only be in a certain style according to her. So I look around and see, actually see one thing and hear from her another. This is when a big bell went off in my head and my inner instinct said “look out”! In her mind she believes and has stated often, that she is a decorator. Not just that but she continues to go on about how I would not understand and that her style and taste is this and that. I say nothing,  Throughout the months I heard on numerous accounts just what a wonderful decorator she is via her. She does not allow anyone in her house although she is not a recluse. She just doesn’t want people seeing the inside of her house. I am guessing it might be because she hasn’t thoroughly convinced herself she is a great decorator. She even goes to the extent of exchanging books with “other” decorators. She was very proud to show me something she had always wanted. It was something she dreamt of getting since she could remember, a Grandfather clock. It stood at the very tip top of her stairway in the hall of her upstairs. Sitting cockeyed on a slab of something I couldn’t make out. It was shorter than most I’ve seen and was made of processed wood. Also it was covered in an inch of dust, or more. I didn’t see any hands moving. I asked the inevitable, “does it work”. No, she said with a stern voice, that doesn’t matter. Never mind the fact that it wasn’t even a real clock. I just smile and say something like “darling”.

Not one clock works correctly or at all in her house. She has three broken VCR machines on the top of her very dusty, broken entertainment center. A half broken TV with a gaping hole where the VCR used to be but her DVD player does work. The back of the TV clicker is open and the batteries constantly fall out. We finally taped the back and I don’t think she noticed. She has a throne to all of her dead animals with their remains in containers on a wiggly table displaying pictures of her with them or them alone. The animals are another category and well worth waiting for.

She decorates with dishes, broken dishes. Dishes with chips and chunks missiing. Potpourri in old chipped glass or ceramic bowls . Look inside of these bowls and you will find oodles of cat hair, dust balls and cobwebs. Her appliances all have rules. Her fridge is on the brink of dying . The sounds it makes makes me feel like it knows how desperate I am and wants to stay alive just for our sake. It’s filled with eggs she has kept for over twenty years. Yes, these are hard boiled eggs and painted and dated, of course. Even with all of the winter storm outages and blackouts, those eggs remain. The exterior of the fridge is rust, rust and more rust. She covers this (not really) with magnets and notes and many many pictures of herself. Also many quotes and Bible phrases that I wish she applied to her life. We were directed to not turn on the oven because it will “catch the house on fire”. ” What makes you think this”, I say. Well, she backed it up with a tale of one night smelling heat and no smoke really , just heat. I am a baker, so this is terrible news for me. One day, I try it out and guess what? The oven works just fine. Oh while we are on this subject, I cannot forget the lightbulbs. Yes, she is afraid lightbulbs will burst in her hands or anyones and will only have an electrician change them. She never ever would pay an electrician so she has terrible lighting. Upstairs in the girls room, she gave orders to not turn on the overhead light. I asked again why and it sounded so much like the other story, I had to try. It only needed a lightbulb, so I changed it. But the light she brought in to replace it was in the corner and here and there were more. My oldest daughters bed was a blowup matress on a metal frame with wood down holding it on. It was a clever design at the most and she really didn’t mind. When Jill had left for two weeks to visit family, I painted. I painted her front room, entrance and half of the TV room. Why half? because I could “only” use her paint and she bought only a gallon. It was nice to see some light in that place. When she returned, she looked happily mortified but did manage a teeny tiny “thanks”. Her curtains also got washed and that was the first time in over twenty years, a big occasion. They didn’t fall apart, I am not sure if that was a good thing. 

Her toilet has a lovely sea green hue to it’s insides. It also doesn’t flush correctly and every time we would go to the bathroom, she would run upstairs to make sure her pump wasn’t running too much and that the bowl was filling. It took awhile but I realized, she is a control freak! Rules are another category. Her clothes seem to be another decorating tool. She would wash with very little to no soap and hang her very wet clothes in the house. The house got little light and the clothes claimed a dew smell , one of urine almost. This was a nice smell for us to have while trying to eat dinner. Her underwear and socks hung with kitchen towels. And yes I found pubic hair in the kitchen towels. So I had to wait and sectretly wash those towels with some real soap and put them in the dryer then re-hang next to her clothes. She never figured it out. Her kitchen sinks had rules also, what else. The left sink was smaller and that was the rinsing sink. Her right sink , the deeper one, had a blue rubber tub in it. This rubber tub was stained and broken. I was given direct orders to not drain the water from that bowl into the big sink because the drain underneath had a leak. I fixed the leak and never mentioned it. Her front banister coming into the house was wobbly and unsafe. It was a balance act sometimes because those balls would fly right off.That would leave us struggling for balance.

She asked if I could paint her stairs and porch and gladly, very gladly, I did. I also painted the back stairs which lead to the kitchen and has a giant gaping hole from the top step to the step into the kitchen. Her barn door broke off completetly and I gladly paid for that to be repaired. She called an older man from her Church to come and fix it. He is a handyman of sorts, a whistler too. At one point he asked for a step ladder, she held her breath. I ran into the house to get one. Apparently I broke a rule.

She purchased a car with her fathers money , I call it the money pit. She has a system for everything and i mean everything. Her system for purchasing this car and juggling everyone and all her resources, backfired. This is when good old fashioned intuition and common sense come into play. But what do I know? In the first eight months of us being with her, she put in over four thousand dollars into her new/.used car. Leaving us all abandoned more than once. She uses this car as a channel for her decorating skills also apparently. Hanging from her dashboard mirror are rosary beads, a cross, an angel and a very bright pink tacky flamingo. They sway left to right while driving around in it. If you have vertigo like I do, it isn’t a pleasant experience. I think I will also leave her dressing and personal hygeine seperate. Those are lengthy categories.