These are the artificial sunflowers that I got at the Dollar Store. They were just under 5$ and they now live in a vase on a cherrywood dresser in my bedroom so I get to see them every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to bed. They make me happy. I also have an artificial sunflower wreath that hangs on our stained glass front door. I love sunflowers and I think there are sunflowers in Heaven based on that dream I had. One day I hope to have real ones, and I’m going to pick up the flowers for my garden sometime this week and I hope to be able to find sunflowers and plant them by the pool and if I can ever find a bouquet of fresh-cut sunflowers I’ll get those and put them in a vase either on the piano or on the diningroom table and actually one of the nicest and most thoughtful things anyone could do for me would be to just randomly bring me home some sunflowers one day….hint….hint…
As well, the grass finally got cut( after I spent half an HR picking out the dandilions, and it was so long that poor Buddy was practically buried in it with his short stubby legs; he’s a low-rider and it was so long it was like a jungle) but there was always something that kept delaying the grass getting cut; it either kept on raining for days on end, and then the lawnmower was buried in the shed way at the very bottom because some dingus threw a bunch of crap from the trailer on top of it, and then there was no gas in the mower…..but it finally got done and it really needed it and looks so much better now!The 15 YR old did a good job! I also walk by Bev’s (G.P) house 3-4 times a day when I walk Buddy and I feel sad every time I do knowing that she died. 😦
I’m also determined to be able to go to Cuba as I really need a vacation and to get away if there’s any chance of me surviving, and I’m going to let loose and have a wild week and just let the real me emerge and have fun, without my toxic family criticizing me and telling me what not to say and what not to do, not letting me be me, and I can come out of my shell and just be myself for a week without having to answer to anyone, prove myself to anyone, live up to anyone;’s standards or expectations that I never seem to meet, I can just spend all day at the beach and in the ocean, carefree and unfettered, pretending I have another life.I can escape and be free.
I also had these weird dreams last night: in one I was in some sort of field somewhere and I saw sunflowers and was so excited and happy and squealed joyfully, Look! Sunflowers! I love them!! and in another dream I was trying to give Buddy a bunch of pepperoni ( his fave. food) and all these other dogs kept coming up trying to eat it and I kept trying to shoo them away saying it was his, and the other dream there was a plane crash and I got the impression that it was here, and 4-6 passengers, all were killed, and I understood it to be a military plane, and I had a vision of the bodies laying in a field, covered with a grey tarp sort of thing, in a black burned crater in the ground and saying to my mother, I bet this will even make the Toronto news!
It’s interesting as well how both the 14 YR old and the 21 YR old have eating disorders but I have completely different relationships with them; I was never close to the 21 YR old and never really bonded with her as she was 6 weeks old when we had the fire and I wasn’t home much with her as I was always off with the contractors, the insurance adjustor, or picking out paint, wallpaper, carpeting, furniture,drapes, etc. to rebuild our home and our lives, and I just came back home every 3 HRS or so to feed her ( since my boobs are attached) and then I’d be off again so I didn’t really see her much or get to spend much time with her when she was a baby for the first few months, plus I also had PTSD on top of that from the fire….yet I was very close with the 14 YR old, yet they both have eating disorders, and it breaks my heart as well that 6 out of the 11 kids have mental illnesses of one kind or another,too, and that’s over half; if there were 12 kids it would be half but since there’s 11 half would be 5 1/2 but you can’t split half a kid…and I feel so guilty that I passed on my crazy to them( even though my hubby also did as well) and I can’t live with myself knowing that,and that they struggle and suffer partly because of my genetics and what they inherited from me.That’s a really heavy burden to carry and to bear.