The Waning of the Year

The sun sets and darkness falls on the last few remaining hours of 2009. The end of yet another decade. I’ve mentioned it before…2009 is a year that I won’t mind seeing the backside of. It’s been a trying year…emotionally, physically, financially. It seems as though, as my thoughts filtered over the happenings of the past 12 month

s, that much of my year was defined by April…April 18th to be exact. The things that happened that day, that burned the date into my mind, scorched the months below it. Little trails of smoldering embers would flair up in subsequent months. That was the day I discovered my Uncle was dead…actually, had been dead for a week or longer in the home that my mother and grandmother had purchased in the 60’s together.

That horrible, gut-wrenching day, a day I’d known for years would come one day, showed me that I’m capable of things I never thought possible…of course, always with the help of God. Goodness, he’s been with me a lot this year. I hesitate to share much of the details of the day not knowing each of your constitutions and what they can bare. I can tell you that certain sensory memories gained that day and days to follow will never leave my mind completely. That day I was blessed with some of the gentlest, kindest police and sheriff’s officers that Fremont has to offer. I have yet to thank them as they need to be thanked so they know that their goodness was appreciated in ways that I could never fully express in words. Truly they were angels, slightly rough around the edges, sent to me that day…and they NEED to be told that!

That day, that DAY didn’t even come close to preparing me for what the days to come had in store…entering the house. Again, sensory memories that will never fade. Though the smells faded from the things I brought home from that house and eventually faded from the house itself as we cleared amassed trash they will never escape the corners of my memory. The pungent smell of death and decay is not easily shaken my friends, especially when it is pared with the memory of a loved one. It can be conjured in one’s nose with a thought. I hope you never experience it. I have touched things (blessed by another angel who selflessly dragged the mattress and bedding from the house), cleaned things that I never imagined I would be able to. You see, my Uncle was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia/disassociative personality either because of things experienced in Vietnam or because of a construction accident that occurred in years after his return. That means that he had at least one other personality that would take over a times, typically when under duress. He wasn’t a bad man. The real man was kind, gentle, giving…the other man was brooding, suspicious, vulgar and at times frightening. I didn’t personally see the other man many times, though I did catch glimpses. I loved the real man and HATED the other man who ruined my uncle…that caused him to hoard trash, I assume, because of fear that “they” would know what he was doing, eating, reading. The house my grandmother had kept spotless and well maintained (within her meager budget) was almost literally filled to the brim with garbage…mounds of empty tin and aluminum cans, boxes, papers. Cleaning the house was honestly like excavating (blessed over and over again by the help of my dad…who later took over cleaning when I couldn‘t enter the house anymore by myself, haunted by things I‘d cleaned)…layer upon layer upon layer. He compulsively shopped clearances and sales, brought his treasures home and left them in the bags in piles. The massive credit card debt he left behind…mortgages on the house…liens…testimony to his spending.

It wasn’t all horrible. When cleaning the mountains of garbage from the house became too much I would go in search of treasures of my own. Family history scrawled in letters, cards, notes stretching through the centuries and through generations. Treasures sealed in plastic baggies with notes from Grandma. Photos of unknown family members silvered by time and air. Pockets of the 3,000 sq. ft. house un-litered by my uncle’s illness. A canning room in the basement that kissed my face as though Grandma’s spirit waited there for me. A pocket of sweet air that smelled so much like the house had in my youth. My mother’s room perfumed by the pomanders tucked in the drawers. My basement is filled with totes of letters waiting to be read, photos waiting to be gazed upon. They had lined my main floor for months but I eventually had to move it all downstairs as it had begun to consume me, fill my dreams, and I needed to be back among the living.

Tomorrow morning the sun will shake off the last grasp 2009 and welcome in a new year. 2010...this will be the year we finally lay his remains to rest, auction the remaining possessions of the family and sell the house, hopefully to a kind owner who will restore it to it’s potential glory so that a new family can fill it with happy memories and ease the house’s fears and anxieties of years gone by. 2010 will be the year I can cast off the looming blanket, dark, cold, wet, slimy that has at times smothered me, choked me, weighed me down and threatened to drown me. I’m looking forward to it…it’s a fresh start that will come with the spring buds and blooms, warm southern breezes and bright rays of the sun. The robins will bring those days when they come back to Fremont and fill the air with their welcome morning chitter-chatter.
May 2010 bring us all peace, solace, hope, joy and cheer…in what ever form it chooses to bring those blessings in. May we all look back on 2009 and find some good in it…perhaps buried under less fond memories…but let us find them none-the-less and let us rejoice in our passing through it’s chapters, wiser, stronger, appreciative of what we have and blessed by what we have experienced, good or bad.

A Letter for My Daughter

As I searched for something to write today topics whizzed through my mind. I have a lot of topics on a waiting list but I wanted to find something light-hearted to weave today. I searched and searched but came up with nothing.

This is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while. Write for my daughter; sharing my hopes and dreams for her. I want it to be something I can give to her, in a time when she’s a little more receptive of what I feel. Obviously not now when I clearly know nothing. Maybe for high school graduation, for college graduation may be too late.

For My Daughter,

As I write this you are 11 years old. A typical pre-teen full of hopes and aspirations…and I am losing importance in your eyes. It’s the way of life and I accept it for what it is. One day I hope you see me again as your friend, matron, mentor. I’m sure that when I give you this the following will have altered little. There may be things to add or take away, but at this time in our lives these are some things I want to share with you.

I may not love the things you do, but I love YOU unconditionally.

I hope that you can find some happy memories from this tangled web your father and I wove for you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but be assured it hasn’t been easy for us either. I wish I could have given you the warm, fun, loving home that I’d dreamed of giving my children….something like a 1940s sitcom. It didn’t happen that way; but, I hope you never play the victim card. I pray that you have the strength and will to always rise above the circumstances and make the best of what you are granted in life.

I pray that you take from your father and I only the best. We both have good characteristics and, yes, we both have flaws. I hope that I’ve given you the tools to discriminate between the two. The differences may not be obvious at once, but over the course of your life I hope you can separate the wheat from the chaff

Surround yourself with positive people. Be a positive person and people will want to be with you.

Own your mistakes. If you don’t own them, they’ll own you and you’ll run from them your whole life. It’s so freeing to acknowledge your errors and make reparations as quickly as possible. People will appreciate you for it and they’ll respect your ability to do so.

Love yourself…unconditionally.

Live with an open heart…open to ideas, open to opinions, open to people. Welcome people in to your heart. If they hurt you or take advantage of your kindness, let it be their loss not yours. Let it make you appreciate those in your heart more. Don’t let it bitter you or sour your feelings toward humanity. The world is full enough of angry people without enough time to smile at a stranger or hold a door. Maybe your smile will be the only shining moment in a stranger’s day.

Likewise, don’t take advantage of other’s kindness.

Laugh at yourself regularly.

I hope that you can be strong and independent but not so strong that you push help from others away. I know I’m not a good example of this. It’s okay to accept help. It doesn’t signify weakness…it signifies intelligence.

Storms will pass and pain will fade…as long as you let it. Don’t let misfortune define you…grow from it.

I hope that you can one day find a friend in your brother. I know I’ve said this a million times by now. Someday your dad and I will be gone. Family is vital. If you can’t count on family what can you count on? Eventually, you’re going to need each other’s shoulders to lean on. Open your heart to him. Forget childishness and love each other.

Find beauty in life. It’s all around you, you just have to recognize it.

Wait for the right one. Don’t settle for the first one…and don’t be afraid to end an engagement all the way up to the big day. Find someone who loves you unconditionally, someone who respects you for who you are now and for the woman you will become in 20 years. Wait for someone who holds the same strong beliefs that you do…all other things will flow from that. Don’t accept anyone who is not everything that you need. Forget about those fairy tales….because that’s all they are…tales. A perfect marriage doesn’t happen on it’s own. It’s nurtured daily by both people.

Dance in the rain at least once in your life.

Most importantly, have Faith! Have strong, passionate Faith! I hope, more than anything else I’ve given you in life, I’ve lead you to see God is you most true and faithful Friend. There will be times in your life, most likely many times, when He is all you have to cling to. Place it in His hands, He will steer you in the right direction.

Get Thee to a Nunn'ry

I’m a Shakespeare nut. I like to read it, I love to watch it…some parts I understand very little…others strike quite a chord. One quote, taken from Act III, Scene 1 of Hamlet, I’m sure we’re all familiar with came rushing to me today as I sat in church, of all places. Pastor was talking about finding contentment…casting off things that cause us to sin. Are we content with our lives and how we live them? Hamlet, breaking from his act of insanity, instructs Ophelia, “Get thee to a nunnery, why woulds't thou be a breeder of sinners?” She betters him. Rather than rushing off to the church we later find her floating peacefully below the water devoid of breath.

Why did this thought come to me? I’m weary. Society tells us we need more…we need something new…we need to keep up…if it feels good, just do it! Why?! Why do I need more? The more I have, the more shackled I am to it…hold on, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me give you a point of reference.

Yesterday, I sat down at my computer and pulled up my new companion, Facebook. What was everyone up to today? The familiar “blip” sounded indicating someone wanted to chat. Ahhhhh, the new Fremont “friend” I’d accepted last weekend because we had a few mutual friends. From looking at his page and reading his posts (which NEVER have any form of punctuation whatsoever…something that makes me want to beat people with a hammer. That‘s fodder for another blog.) I've gathered this guy isn’t completely with it. So, I’ve cut him some slack and chatted with him for short periods in the past. This is how the chat session played out…

“R u dun cleaning yet” I’d mentioned in my status update that I was cleaning my house. Please note the lack of punctuation….AGAIN.

“No, just taking a break and making supper”

“Do you have kids”

“Yes, two.”

“How old” Geez! Twenty questions!

I hesitate and respond, “4 and 11”

“R they with u” What the hell?!

“Yes, almost always”

“R they in the house” This is getting personal….and bizarre. Why? Are you waiting outside to whisk them away? If so, let me pack them some bags.

After what seemed to me like a long pause I responded, “Why?”

Long pause on his part… “Do you flirt” What, what? Oh, I get it now. I see where this is taking the conversation. My cheeks are burning…not out of embarrassment…out of anger.

“No. I’ve made a rule as of late” That should confuse him. Had I not become so angry so quickly I’m sure I could have come up with a much more witty response….like, “Kiss my ass, jerk!” Wait, that’s not witty. How about “Find someone else to join you and your hand tonight.” Yeah, that would have been good.

“What rule” See, I told you, I confused him with all those extra words after “No”.

“I don’t flirt anymore…with anyone.”

“Can I tell you what I would say if you did” OMG! Persistent little jerk!

“I was recently hurt. My heart’s all boarded up.”

“I bet I could get in” Ugh! Go away!

“Nope. No one’s getting in.”

“Let me tell you what I would say if I did.” At this point I’m ready to hunt the guy down, feeble minded or not, and knee him!

“No thanks.” And I shut down the chat and marked myself as offline long enough to remove him from my friends list.

What compels people to act like this….to a stranger? Are we all just objects…pawns…to each other? When did we, as humans, forget that people have feelings? I spent almost 10 years being an object to my husband. Nothing short of being a piece of meat; a walking, talking parking garage. Damn it! I have feelings; though I have no visual proof, I do have a brain in my head and a rather advanced one I‘d like to think. I’m not to be used and cast aside. We all have feelings. Each and every person we meet on the street, in the coffee shop, at the store has feelings that can be broken, mangled, damaged sometimes beyond repair. We’ve turned our eyes from our future goal and settled for what makes us feel good now…no matter who we hurt in the process. I’m no less guilty myself. There are no stones that I can cast. But I can REFUSE to allow someone to make me feel that way again and I can do my utter best to not do it to other people. Hamlet may have been on to something. If I could, I would get myself to a nunnery.

Minutia...It's all in the Detail

I’m a detail girl. I can be a bit anal about it too. While making up a real estate flyer I’ll move photos around, resize them, crop them, un crop them, change fonts, change font colors, then I’ll scrap the whole dang thing and start again. It all has to fit together somehow! It’s just a matter of finding the right layout that is just right for the house in question.

I can dwell on the minutia (trivial details) of my life too…and I tend to blow them out of proportion turning them into hindrances. Things like the weeds growing in my flowerbeds, the leaves and helicopter seeds dropped by my ever-giving maple trees filling my gutters, my son not listening in preschool or my daughter not picking up her shoes. Lots of you will say, “Geez, who cares about that stuff…move on girl!” But all these little details….joined with things like “how am I going to pay that bill” or “when is that check going to come” or “good God, I’m only one person, how am I going to get this child here while the other one needs to be here” all builds up into this monster that breathes and feeds on each little issue that crops up…growing ever larger…feeding even more!

I’ve been a slacker this summer…in so many ways. Those minute details, drastically enlarged and the accompanying worry and dread, have taken up the time normally devoted to some of my more relaxing and artistic endeavors I typically enjoy. A number of times since Spring’s arrival I’ve noticed the thickening layer of dust on my Sony camera. The camera was a gift from my father the Christmas before my son was born. I guess it was a hint he’d be expecting photos of his new grandchild on a regular basis. I’m not one for reading electronics manuals…I figure, point and click, right. Wrong. It wasn’t until Spring 2008 that I really started to realize the potential this thing had. It started with a trip to the Fremont “Lakes”. Now, if you’re used to Angostura Lake outside Hot Springs or Pactola in Rapid City…these bodies of water are more accurately described as ponds. But ducks LOVE them. There are even pelicans that pass through. One Saturday the kids and I ventured to the ponds to try and photograph the pelicans and I was bitten by the photo bug. It runs in my genes, really, it was just a matter of time.

Before long, I was rushing to drop the kids off at their dad’s so I could go on a photographic excursion with my new friend Sony. I’d snap pictures during my lunch hour because the light on the flowers was just right or because a new rose was beginning to open. Rain, glorious rain! Have you ever seen the beauty of a string of rain drops clinging to a spider’s web…like a string of diamonds glistening in the light. I found delight in the minute details….extreme close-ups that revealed slightly darker veins running through a petal. I was moved by a branch in the foreground while I focused on a coot bobbing on the waves. I was surrounded by nature and was mesmerized by the intricacies that I’d never taken the time to appreciate. On a trip back from South Dakota with my Aunt we took the less traveled route through the Nebraska Sand Hills. We were armed with our cameras and not afraid to make abrupt stops when we spotted a wild flower on the side of the road. Yeah, did you know that? There are flowers over there…not just grass. We buzz through life trying to get from point A to point B in the shortest amount of time and we lose sight of the beauty right outside our windows because it becomes a blur.

Photography was like a gateway drug for me that year. Soon I was sitting one the back steps reading a book and enjoying the warmth of the sun on my skin and the breeze as it gently caressed my skin and tousled my hair. I took notice of so many other things that I hadn’t before. I spend so much of my time with my head down trudging through the mire of life that I never looked up…there’s a whole other world up there! Really there is! Give it a try! Lay down in the grass and look up! The light filters through the leaves changing them from green to brilliant jewel-like emerald. Birds soar, flutter, swoop through the air; insects zoom by with determination…probably trying to avoid those birds. Now close your eyes and use your ears. Listen past the roar of the cars driving down your street…listen to the details. Crickets chirping, rainbirds buzzing their autumnal drone, cardinals calling, house sparrows bright little song, robins announcing their arrival. The air even has a voice as it rustles the leaves or it shushes through pine needles. Now keep your eyes closed and breathe. Smell the heady sweetness of the flocks flowers on the air; smell the earthy warmth of the soil as the morning’s dew evaporates with the increasing intensity of the mid-day sun; smell the bright green scent of the neighbor’s fresh cut grass as flows on the breeze.

Details! Details can be great therapy. There is so much beauty around us! We just never take the time to appreciate it. Look for the details, seek them out! Next time you are irritated by the woman in front of you at the check out stand that has to price compare everything in her cart…listen for the giggle of a child. When you’re stuck in construction on the highway don’t focus on the car in front of you or watch longingly for the other lane of traffic to come through….turn your head and watch the many-colored wild flowers bob in the breeze. Turn from the details that bring you down to the details that lift you up. Their out there, just waiting to be noticed.

The Dying of the Light

Tonight after posting my status, “Hate that fading feeling” on Facebook, I started to contemplate the thought a little deeper. Since I haven’t posted a note in eons I felt compelled to sit down and write. Finally, something that compelled me to write! Something I felt everyone could relate to; something that I felt strongly enough about to push back my son’s bath time so I could sit down and record my thoughts before they slipped from my mind; something that I felt I could share with my Facebook family.

Fade, per the American Heritage Dictionary permanently housed on my computer desk, has several meanings; 1. To lose or cause to lose brightness or brilliance, to dim; 2. To lose strength or freshness, to wither; 3. To disappear gradually, vanish.

Things fade in our lives hourly, daily, seasonally. The darkness of night and the brilliance of the stars gradually disappears with the rising of the sun. Likewise, the colors of our world dim into black and white as twilight hastens upon our corner of the planet. But what beauty can be found in watching pinks, purples oranges of a dazzling sunset stretch across the horizon with the fading of the light. Fading can be a wonder to behold in some cases. The gradual lessening of pain, anger, fear, anxiety can be a blessing as well. The slow relief and sense of well being that comes with the disappearance of a headache; the joy in forgiveness that comes as anger from a fight fades.

In autumn we watch the bold reds, oranges and greens in nature fade to brown with approaching winter. Plants wither and fade as colder nights encroach and frost lays waste to the final strong holds of fall. Slowly the splashes of color rinse from our canvas cleansed by the snow that will surround us for all too long. In the winter, daylight fades all too quickly. We wake in the dark, go to work or school in the dark, go home in the dark. Sometimes hope seems to dim those long winter months. But gradually longer days bring us warmer breezes, piles of the vile white affliction that have plagued us for months vanish and life springs from the ground once again. The sense of helplessness fades as we rush out to once again enjoy the air, the trees, the bird song!

Friendships and relationships are not immune to this verb, “fade“, either. Friends we pledged life-long adoration to, our BFFs, sometimes gradually disappear as our lives change. We move in different directions vowing to stay in touch…and slowly life in our new world replaces the life that we once had. The strength of the bond loosens…maybe never lost completely…but the intensity is merely transferred to a new bond.

Love, un-nurtured, can fade too. The burning, intense, fiery passion can slowly burn down to a low flicker, then glowing coals and eventually be reduced to a pile of ash. Though it fades, it’s loss isn’t unfelt. It can be palpable. We can feel the force draining from it. We can feel it escaping us like water through our fingers. Sometimes we have to choose to fight the dimming light, to throw on kindling and fan the coals. Sometimes we count it as a loss and sit back and watch the last tongues of fire lick at the few remaining shards of fuel. It’s absence can leave us feeling as though we are in a darkened room groping for something familiar…something to cling to. It can leave us breathless, weighed down, crushed. Odd how the absence of something can feel like a weight on our chests forcing life’s breath from our lungs and unable to bring in more air. But, like everything else…the freshness of the loss diminishes, the weight lightens and we slowly take breath in again. The pain fades. We move on, hopefully wiser…stronger.

However, there are other things in life that leave a proverbial hole in our lives as they fade. I have witnessed the life of a dear loved one disappear gradually. Watching a once bright light, not unlike the sun which our lives revolve around, dim and vanish leaves an indelible void….a void so real that it leaves a raw, jagged hole in our very souls that never fully heals. It renders a wound, never fading to a scar, that can be ripped open when we are least ready for it. Something as seemingly trivial as a picture, a sound, a place, a mere thought can send us into convulsions of tears and sobs. Though the freshness and intensity of the initial grief loses strength and we go about our lives, the hole never completely fills.

Most of us will slowly fade too, leaving a void in someone else’s life. Some of us will be ripped quickly from the earthly bonds but the majority of us will fade as our health weakens. It’s natural….eventual physical death is the only thing we’re guaranteed in life. How it will happen, when it will happen is unknown; but someday the brilliant light will dim and gradually fade to black…

….darkness will fade…and our next journey will depend on where your belief takes you…to Allah, to your next life, to God. For me, I hope the darkness fades to a warm little kitchen, with black and white checkered tiles, white cabinets and yellow walls. There will be a cup of hot coffee waiting for me and the din of silence will be broken by the laughter of my loved ones sharing stories and greeting my arrival followed by the warmth of my mother’s embrace once again. The fear, anxiety, pain, anger of the life I just left fading…

This Ol House...Revisited

My eyes feel glassed over, I'm tired, I want to go to freaking bed; but, no, here I sit...venting to you.

The day started out well. The electrician was to arrive around 8 AM to fix my electrical problem, which you may remember left my second floor in the dark other than the power I ran to it via extension cords and all of my ceiling lights on the main floor rendered useless. The power to the refrigerator was, yes, via a heavy duty extension cord running through my kitchen to an outlet in my dining room. It's been that way since just before Thanksgiving. Our eyes had adjusted to almost mole-like living especially with fewer hours of daylight during this time of the year. I'd gotten used to preparing our evening meals by the light of a lamp located across the room from the stove and sink. Today was the day that was all to end! Bliss! Flipping on a light switch and being bathed in the incandescent glow. We were up and ready to go and the electrician showed up shortly after 8 as promised. A few words and we were off to stay out of his way.

First....breakfast. There is joy in breakfast at a restaurant isn't there! We went to a little diner on the edge of town that is modeled in the 50's diner style. We filled our tummies and blew an hour of time without any problem...well, other than the slight mishap with Bryan's sprite. (I wore half of it) What next? Hmmm...Goodwill is right across the highway...and Bryan did need some longer pants. Off we went frolicing away another hour and a half finding clothes for all. We left with a huge bag and spent less there than at breakfast. This was turning out to be a rather productive morning!

Next, we stopped over at my friends' house. They had their step daughters this weekend and we arranged for our kids to play together and her husband to watch them while we went downtown to peruse several of the antique shops we see everyday across from work. What fun! I did find a book I'd been looking for...but when I opened the cover and saw "$65" I carefully closed it and gently placed it back on the shelf. Better keep looking for that one. By the time we got back to her house it was after 1 PM. Wow! The day was just rolling right along.

We surprised the kids and took them to the new McDonalds for lunch. Zip, zip...there went another hour. It was pretty evident that Bryan needed a nap....best solution....car ride! But wait, there was a message from the electrician on my phone that had slipped out of my pocket in the car. HE WAS DONE ALREADY! I streaked home! Yes! New conduit on the back of the house...shiny bright new conduit! We rushed upstairs as though it was Christmas morning flocking to the tree flipping on light switches along the way in a giddy frenzy. Ah! There it was....my heart lept at the site of it....my breath caught in my throat....my pulse raced...an angelic choir sang and a heavenly glow surrounded it.....center stage of my daughter's closet....THE NEW BREAKER BOX! Oh breaker box, I LOVE you! We stared, we laughed, we jumped around, we danced on a pile of antiquated fuses left behind. Okay, we didn't dance on the fuses, we threw them in the bin. May I never have to become acquainted with a fuse again!

I quickly busied myself unplugging extension cords and resetting alarm clocks. I happily sawed a notch in the closet shelf to allow for the conduit running from the attic to the breaker box and rehung the hanger bar. I vacuumed the floors! I turned on lights and shut them off BECAUSE I COULD just for the sheer exhiliaration of it! Ahhh...the soothing hum of electricity.

When I made supper I was nearly blinded by the light in the kitchen. My daughter walked out and said, "It's too bright in here!" I said, "I know! Isn't it wonderful!" She said, "Can we turn some of the lights off?" I said, "NO! Are you CRAZY?!" Of course, all that excess light now made it quite clear how dirty my kitchen was. Eeeek! I scrubbed the counters, cabinet doors and floors...and made coffee (without an extension cord)...because I could! We even had tickle time!

Of course, having completed all this, it was getting pretty late. Time for Bryan to go to bed...especially since he didn't get that nap he NEEDED earlier. Being slightly over tired it took a little longer to coax him into bed. Next...Johanna's shower....IN THE LIGHT!!!! I even read some of my book waiting for her to finish soaking in the tub. As she removed the plug from the tub I heard the "glugg glugg glugg" from the sink that I have learned to fear from past experience in this house. After drying off she says, "It doesn't look like the water is draining." The bathtub drain has been very slow for the last few weeks. I'm bordering on exhaustion at this point and snap, "It's draining...just very slowly." My daughter is tired at this point too....and getting a little on the cranky/fuss-budget/bitchy side. There are wood flecks on her sheets. Geez! For some reason a simple shaking and sweeping of the offending wood won't do. The bedding must be washed first....FINE! SLEEP IN MY BED. Now I have a crowded bed to look forward to. As she happily climbs into my bed to read a book I quickly rip the sheets off and take them down to wash bringing the furniture polish along to remove any of those damn wood flecks from her furniture as well. As I walked out of her room past the bathroom I notice, to my horror, that the water level has NOT changed in the tub. Holy crap! Does it never end?! I irritatedly grabbed the plunger and started trying to clear the clog. Now, if you've ever tried to plunge a drain, you'll know that months or years of buildup on the inside of your pipes breaks loose and suddenly streams into the vessel you are trying to clear. Gross! Black/brown bits floating around in the water. I flushed the toilet...good...still working...in hopes that perhaps it would somehow suction out the offending clog. No good. I ran hot water down the sink drain. Crap! It's draining slow now too....put more in and plunge the sink. Look back at the tub and ....WTF....water is draining from the sink into the TUB. Oh geez...and now the water in the tub is an opaque black mess...but the sink finally drains completely.

Back to the tub....plunge, plunge, plunge. Give it up Vanessa before you take a bad situation and make it worse. I've learned the hard way with the plumbing here before resulting in water from the second floor bathroom dripping down through my dining toom....oops, Freudian slip...room ceiling. So, I slunk from the bathroom, feeling disheartened and dishoveled. And here's a happy thought...Monday is Martin Luther King Day...that means I get to wait until Tuesday to get a plumber. It never ceases to amaze me...out of the frying pan and into the fire. But hey, on the bright side, I can flip on my bathroom lights and gaze longingly at my bathtub/shower now filled with black silt.

Perhaps I should start dating a plumber/electrician/heating cooling guy.