It's Hard To Live On A Carousel

I absolutely love carousels especially the antique ones that have the horses, tigers, zebras and benches.  Up and down we went and if we had the courage we would lean far out and grab the rings hoping for the brass one.  In all the rides at an amusement park that is my favorite.  Wish life was as easy as that.  Lately I feel like I've been up and down but the brass ring isn't in site.  This morning was great, I woke up early (now that is a rarity) fed the geese, fed the dog, had my coffee and toast.  I felt like the weight of the world was off my shoulders.  I had planned on running errands to town and then sneaking by the pound and looking at a border collie they have there.  Didn't go quite that way. Just because I was happy and feeling good didn't mean my spouse was.  Like I've said before we must  deals with mood swings which can just suck the life out of me.  So even though I'm not supposed to drive I took the opportunity to run to town by myself. It was a nice day out. I stopped by the Art Store and saw friends I hadn't seen in months. I got to see how my photography is displayed in the front of the store right as people enter.  That made me feel great. Now would someone buy a picture or two.  I got all my errands done and stopped by a little store hoping to find a monkey.  No not a real one a stuffed one as in toy.  Dylan my grandson loves monkeys and I've been on a search for the perfect monkey not as scary one.  Well in a corner of a display case there it sat all alone. THE monkey so I hope.  I tucked him under my arm, paid for him and headed home.  I figured I'd better not go to the animal pound it wasn't worth the aggravation I'd have when I got home.  I get home and found hubby is sleeping. He says he is sick.  So I go downstairs and leave him to his resting.  I get the dead possum cleaned up which actually was quite a trick.  Tonka had played with it too hard so it was in our driveway when the snow came.  By the time the snow stopped it was too covered and iced in to get out of there so it has sat for a few days. Hey it is ok it was refrigerated by Mother Nature.  You know you live in the mountains when you judge how deep the snow is by how it covers the dead critters in your driveway. lol  Ok back to today.  Possum gone and off I go to the pond to to check the goose nest.  Now Gertie is a new mother and she made a great next and buried the egg nice and deep in the hay. BUT she isn't sitting on the next and it is cold so I pick up the egg put it in my pocket, tell Gus the father goose  he better not bite me and off I go to the incubator in my laundry room.  See I'm having fun today despite the carousel ride. It was when I got inside and reached for the brass ring that I fell off the carousel.  When my depressed person gets mad or frustrated anyone nearby gets interrogated.   I usually make the mistake of first allowing it then I kick myself in the ass, impose the Golden Rule and I take care of my business.  But I can't help to feel angry because it just isn't right.  I'm telling you it's hard to live on a carousel.

CLEANING OUT MY CLOSET

Once in awhile, it is a good idea to clean out your closet.  No not the closets in your house the closet in your head.  I have a very bad habit of being the "nice gal" who lets people get away with saying or doing things which are negative towards me.  I usually walk away or feel hurt but don't say a word.  The last several weeks that hasn't been the case.  I call them on it, tell them I don't appreciate being talked to that way or  my favorite one is "you obviously haven't learned the Golden Rule".  This week the old Wildermuth temper exploded.  (To be of  Wildermuth descendant is empowering. We are  from Prussian/German blood and when push comes to shove we are scrappers. I've traced that line of my family back to the 1500s and not one Wildermuth ever turned away from a battle. They always stood up for what is right.) When I pop my cork everyone better be out of the way.  I've been told that my eyes blaze with white anger....I kind of  like that expression. Can't you just see the smoke pouring from my ears forming little grey ringlets around my earrings?  So far, my closet cleaning has been quite productive.  But I'm not done yet.  Most importantly, I feel empowered again.  I'm back to being ME.  I only have one life that God gave me and damn it I'm making the most of it. Treat me like you would like yourself to be treated.  If not, don't complain when I boil over and you are the one that gets scalded.    I'm a nice gal, I'm unique and I'm back! 

One Song - One Intense Memory

I guess I did something right because "T" isn't angry with me anymore.  But for some reason this last day of February seems very heavy.  Maybe it is because it is cold and gloomy outside. Maybe it is because I'm not accomplishing anything today.  Maybe that's just the way it is supposed to be. 

I've spent the major part of the day listening to music on You Tube.  Bands from my youth, Grass Roots, Yes, The Hollies and even some Beatles.  The sense of hearing is amazing because it can trigger so many emotions and pictures within my head.  One song which floods me with emotion is "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother".  I remember sitting in my room listening to this song and over hearing a conversation my parents were having.  They spoke of a boy no make that a man who had returned from Viet Nam.  Now I didn't really have the much needed intelligence of the time to understand what was  the difference between Nam and the previous wars.  This young man was early twenties and he was coming home not the way he left. He had a lost a leg.  Dad was telling mom that the family were going to the airport in Philly in the morning to pick up their son.  The father  needed the day off and his boss was giving him a hard time.  He promised he
would be back to work the next day.  That was it, sounds like a very unimportant conversation but now I think back it reflected a time when we didn't acknowledge our troops like we do today.  In a silent hush the parents sent their young sons off to war and in a silent hush they prayed they would welcome them home.  No parades, no confetti thrown in the street. The only picture that might appear in the paper might be their obituary.  It is easy now for me to reflect on what was happening but at the time I was naive.  I wore my peace sign necklace at times around my neck, had a peace sign patch on my well worn jeans and thought  by wearing these symbols I'd be part of the glory to end the war. Ok, so I knew I wouldn't end the war but I was a member of the masses.  Maybe a year later at a block party I remember the brother of a child hood friend came up to my group.  Mick had just got home from Viet Nam, was wearing his army jacket, was stoned out of his mind but still aware of  the looks he was getting from the "kids" his age.  One kid actually asked him why the hell he went over there that if it was him he would have gone to Canada.   A very angry "F you" was spat out by the returning vet. My friends all laughed as Mick left our group of friends quickly, his head down wrongly shamed by a boy who had no clue.  I now think of the parents of those men who lived through the horrors of Viet Nam. I think how they would have loved to have their children return to a heroes welcome, to hang the flags in the window with the gold stars telling their neighbors of the sacrifice their child was making for others.   I wish we could abolish war but there will always be some moronic dictator who thinks only his way is right.  The same moronic idiot wouldn't care how many lives he would waste because of his warped way of thinking.  My oldest boy is in the service and as much as I don't want him anywhere near the worlds problems I do know now that  he is looked on with respect for serving his country.  Our generation of  peace niks of the  1960s and 70s need to apologize to our brothers and sisters that lived that nightmare of Viet Nam both there and at home.  We were too pious, too self absorbed.  I won't say too naive because the information was there all over the newspapers and television.  We certainly didn't do a good job of "carrying our brother."