All For Love.

Screenshot_942 I woke up this morning by the putrid rancid stink of fresh warm shit, a squishy diarrhrea, in fact, waiting for me right in front of my bedroom door, courtesy of Buddy who has The Shits. He may have tried to wake me up and tell me(he normally does) only I was asleep and never heard him, esp. as I did also sleep thru the news and never woke up and when you gotta go you gotta go, so there I was, before the sun even came out, on my hands and knees, scrubbing shit off my carpet and he was hiding under my bed, thinking he was in trouble and I tried to coax him out and told him,  The things I do for you! You’re lucky I love you so much! and then I was thinking of all the things I do for him because I love him:

I get up early to take him out. I even wipe his ass for him(and this time of year is best with wet leaves to wipe fudge-smudges). I go out in sub-Zero freezing temperatures to take him out. I go out in pouring rain to take him out. I pick up shit with my bare hands. I touch the most disgusting slimy so-called “meat” and cook it for him to eat. I clean brown waxy gunk out of his ears. I express his anal glands. I get farted on, sneezed on and breathed on with his dragon breath. I pick fleas and ticks off of him. I’ve washed shit out of his fur. I’ve cleaned up his puke off the carpet. I’ve had my face licked.

I do it all for love and it’s worth it. He’s worth it.And I’d do it again. And again. And again. And I do. And I love it.

As well, my hubby’s always making fun of me for being forgetful and calls me old (even though he’s 4 years older than me) but now it’s happening to him,too; he forgot where he put his pants and he fell asleep in his relcining chair watching TV just like my Dedushka used to do, also a sign of being an old man, so who’s the old one now? Now he knows what it’s like to be old! Welcome to my world! He denies he reads my blog,too, even though I know he does as he’s made references that have only been on the blog and I’ve even seen  it up on his computer screen once when I went in to his office for something; he just lies for some reason and pretends that he doesn’t. I don’t care either way though; if he reads it or not; I don’t do it for him, anyway, I just don’t get why he has to lie about it, and he’s putting up the outdoor Christmas lights again this year too after not doing it last year and saying he was done with it.

I was also starting to leave my body after I’d had weed and Buddy could sense it and it worried him and he was trying to stop me and interrupt the process and prevent me from leaving and he kept barking, pawing at me, scratching my leg, biting at my pant leg and tugging, licking my leg, as if trying to “rouse” me and I told him, Don’t worry; I’ll come back! but he wasn’t having any of it and he ended up disrupting it and the moment was gone as I have to have just the right conditions for it to work and any distraction pulls me back out of it. I also have increasing nausea almost daily now and I know something’s wrong as it’s highly unusual for me as I’m normally not a “barfy” person unless I have the Flu(which is only like every 5-10 years or so), am prego, or in extreme pain, such as in labour, a migraine, or after surgery, so I wonder if it’s just menopause related or due to an illness? I was also shocked and surprised to figure out that with my all-day Morning Sickness for 3 months with each of the 11 kids it would end up being something like 3 1/2 YEARS of being sick!!!

I cut the 11 YR old’s hair as well and now the other kids are being mean and making fun of him saying it looks awful and he’s so ugly and really ugly now and I did a bad job(yeah, like they could do better), etc. only I think it looks good; it just ended up shorter than originally planned since he laughed and moved when I had the clippers and this big chunk got accidently shaved short so I had to do the rest to match and blend in. It looks nice; it’s just a change and big difference and it takes time to get used to is all. Before he had this thick curly wild hair all sticking out like a mad scientist and now it’s really short and spiky.

The furnace also somehow got up to 80 F and it was really nice and warm in here like it never has been before; it’s always so freezing cold in the house we have to wear coats and wrap blankets around us to try and keep warm and I have to use a space heater in my bedroom overnight but now it’s soooo nice and the kids and I love it but my mother says it’s too hot and puts it back down to 70 F and here I was all this time, all these years, thinking that the furnace wasn’t working, that it didn’t adequately heat the house well as it was always cold, but it turned out it was capable; it just was never allowed; she just always had the thermostat set too low, so it never got to warm up, but now she says it’ll cost too much to keep it at 80F but we don’t want to go back to freezing either so we’ll have to compromise and set it in-between at 75 F and I’m sure, of course, that if she puts it back down to 70 F it will mysteriously somehow “find” it’s way back up again….

 

He Sent Him.

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When I prayed for someone to love me God sent me Buddy, and when He sent him:

He sent someone to love me unconditionally.

He sent me a best friend.

He sent me a great listener.

He sent me the perfect companion.

He sent someone who will never “out-grow” cuddling.

He sent me a reason to get up every morning.

He brought light, joy,and love into my life.

He sent someone to love me when no one else would.

He sent me a friend that is loyal and will never hurt or betray me.

He gave me someone to dote on.

He gave me someone that needed me.

He gave me someone who loves me just as I am and doesn’t care what I look like, how much I weigh,how smart I am,how much money I have, what I’ve achieved, or that I’m crazy.

He sent me an example of pure selfless love.

He ended my loneliness and longing for love and friendship.

He gave life meaning again.

He gives me a reason to keep going each day.

He sent me my soulmate, only in animal form.

He sent someone who “gets” me.

He sent me a friend that will never wake up one day and suddenly decide he doesn’t like me anymore.

He sent someone to keep me company and someone to talk to.

He sent a friend to comfort me.

He sent someone that would return my love and not reject it.

He sent someone to make me smile and laugh.

He sent someone who misses me when I leave and is happy to see me when I return.

He sent me someone who loves me more than they love themselves.

He sent someone to love.

He sent LOVE.

Thank you, God.

It Doesn’t Matter.

Buddy7 I took these shots of Buddy and I sitting out in the backyard just snuggling on the porch swing enjoying what we can of the last of the mild weather before it gets too cold to be outdoors, and I was just loving on him, thanking God for him, being grateful for him in my life,savouring the moment, and the 11 YR old saw this photo and goes, You look like an old man!  and it got me thinking, I know, I’ve been told many times I look like a man, look like an old man, look like a dyke, look like an old lesbian, etc. but to Buddy it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter.

He loves me anyway. Just as I am.

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It doesn’t matter that I look like a man in drag.

Or that I weigh as much as a hippo, and that I’m crazy, that I’m broken, damaged, traumatized,

and love the ganja.

or that I can’t do math in my head( or any other way, for that matter)

It doesn’t matter that people find me irritating and annoying.

It doesn’t matter that I’m not smart, I’m a mess,or that I struggle with everything

or that I’ve never been popular and that no

one loves me except for him.

It doesn’t matter that I fail at everything I try and

that I sing out loud even though I can’t sing.

It doesn’t matter that I’m perfectly imperfect.

He loves me anyway.

Just as I am.

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It doesn’t matter

that he’s old and grey now

or that he hobbles and limps along slowly,

or that he has a big lump under his eye, and

has death-breath that could be classified as a biological weapon.

It doesn’t matter that his farts smell like skunk

or that he’s missing teeth

and always steals my spot on the couch

or sometimes shits on the carpet when he has diarrhrea.

I love him just the way he is.

To me he’s perfect.

Rebel.

trillium I knew the answer  to a question they had to a call-in contest on the radio: What is the official flower of Ontario? – the trillium.(seen here). I will never forget it and will always remember it as it is connected to one of my first acts, if not, the first act, of rebellion against authority. I remember how during a nature walk in the woods once at camp the counsellor explained to us all the various different trees and plants and pointed out trilliums saying how they’re the official provincial flower and so on and how the gov’t made a law that it’s illegal to pick them……so, of course, me, being the little rebel that I am, and always was, guess what I did? When everyone’s backs were turned and no one was looking I discreetly bent down and plucked one up, smirking with satisfaction to myself, thrilled and empowered with my bold, courageous, rebellious act of sedition! This was my first(of many) show of defiance against the gov’t telling us what to do, making Fascist and often stupid laws, curtailing our freedoms, imposing upon our lives, and so I begun my life-long journey of civil disobedience( ha ha) just like that, with the plucking of a trillium flower; my first thumbing my nose at Big Brother,showing a sign of defiance and silent protest, beginning a long tradition of sticking it to The Man. 😀

I’ve always been a rebel.

The 15 YR old also has a birthday today and I hope and pray with all my heart that she has a good day esp. since, like me, ever since she broke, life has changed for her and she is a different person than she once was it’s hard now for her to be happy and the slightest thing sets her off. Losing the closeness and the loving relationship I once had with her(not my choice) is one of my biggest losses and regrets in life as well and when I really think about it, most of my regrets in life are all based on love, and loss of love, be it unrequitted love( I love people that never loved me back) or lost friendships( and the regret that they could never be mended again, even when I tried) or broken relationships( such as with my mother once I had kids, or with my kids once they got older and I got more traumatized and damaged over the years and they started hating me) everything is always about love and love is the main, and most important thing in life, and the loss of love is the most painful and most regretful thing.

We also figured that Patti must have tightened her Facebook privacy settings so that only her friends can see what she posts now since we’re not seeing any more new posts but there’s always still a way around it; there’s always another way, and I’m so slow now that even Buddy, who’s an old dog at 12, walks faster than I do. That really makes me feel old, as does realizing that many of my school friends are now grandparents and that many of my own kids’ friends they had as teens as now all grown up and are married and have kids of their own, and now instead of reading the birth notices in the paper to see if there’s anyone I know I find myself reading the death notices!

Funny,too: the 11 YR old made up a new word: he mixed up kilometres( which we use) with miles( that his school books use as it’s American) and he said kilomiles  and as I was lazing in the sun with Buddy it brought back a happy childhood memory of a simpler time,too; of  childhood summers of me at either the cottage or visiting relatives in the country, the adults all sitting out on the veranda talking and me laying on my stomach on the porch swing on the wooden country porch, still barefoot and in my bathingsuit, with one leg and one arm dangling down, still sweaty, sunburned, wet, and sandy from a day at the creek, gently rocking back and forth as the breeze blows past and the sun sets, enjoying the sights and sounds of wildflowers, fresh cut grass and the chirping of birds and cicadas in the lazy summer heat, just blissfully drifting away, no cares in the world, a perfect day, the perfect feeling, just the joy of life, the joy of living, the joy of life,and the love of living. I really miss that. I miss that feeling, that serenity, that joy.When life was good and worth living. When I used to be happy.

Things I’d Take With Me.

GFClock I keep hoping and praying that this is my year. The year where I finally find happiness, love,and freedom; that I either find it in this lifetime, this year, or otherwise I die this year and find peace, freedom and happiness in Heaven, surrounded by love. I was also thinking if I do get to finally move out on my own, away from my toxic family I’ve decided what I’d take with me to my brand new place. I’d bring my fave. things and obviously things that belong to me. Of course I would take my beloved Buddy; I wouldn’t move anywhere without him, and I’d take my bedroom set; my cherrywood old fashioned bed, dresser,and bedside table with the Queen Anne-style legs, the Persian rug in my room, my cedar chest,my A/C, all my hippo collectables and stuff on my wall along with my clothes.

As well as that I’d take the Grandfather clock(which no longer works anyway but I’ve always loved it) and Monet painting (pictured here) as well(which I bought decades ago) and my Louis XV chair and the French Provincial couch and chairs, esp. as I love them, picked them out,and my family always complains how they’re “ugly” and want to get rid of them, so problem solved: I take them and they can buy new stuff for their place. I’d take the matching Cherrywood queen Anne -style coffee table as well and my computer, which was a gift given to me.All I’d have to buy is a small kitchen table and 2 chairs, in case I ever have company.

As I was walking to church yesterday I also saw the cheerful, friendly old guy that always calls out to me and talks to me which he did again and it always makes me feel happy when he does simply because he acknowledges me, proving I’m not invisible, that I am worth someone greeting me and wishing me a good day, and in church I was seeing double and felt like I was almost cross-eyed too and at home looking at a bottle of lotion the letters on it appeared to be Arabic and Russian.. except it really wasn’t,.and my stomach/ulcer pain’s been really bad the past few days as well and my ears are still throbbing, feel full and ache. I’m falling apart in every way, my life, emotionally, mentally, and physically.

Laying out in the sun with Buddy curled up beside me, listening to my music and having had weed struck me as the perfect way to die; with my fave. things, all that’s missing is chocolate, hippos,and sunflowers. I heard as well when Barbara Bush died her husband George was holding her hand and I wish I could have a love like that,too, where even into our 80’s and 90’s we’re still in love and holding hands but I never did and likely never will. I’m beginning to think that love and happiness aren’t meant for me; outside of my reach, like pretty much everything else. I was also looking at the  I ♥ Mama tattoo on my wrist I got when the 14 YR old was around 5; she had first wrote it on with green marker and I had the tattoo guy do it in permanently, so I’ll always remember how much she loves me….but now that she no longer does it’s a painful reminder of what I’ve lost. The 18 YR old also has a summer job at a pool store and just like with her last job at the grocery all she had to do was just walk in and she was hired right away but that’s how the world works for good-looking people; it just opens up for them,life comes easy,and they have opportunities that the rest of us don’t. For me, being ugly, it’s always been the exact opposite; I’m always overlooked, ignored, chosen last, rejected, never chosen above others, never anyone’s fave. or first choice, not even a consideration.