I just cleaned that place up!

Mother nature should really know better than to do a sister such a dis-service.

BEFORE

AFTER

 I enjoy doing yard work - that is, yard work of my own creation.  I have enjoyed creating several new flower beds in my yard this year; thinning out bulbs and planting new ones.  I love the park-esque feel of our yard with large green spaces and shaded tree areas.  The kids can play baseball, soccer, frisbee, whatever they like while I enjoy digging in the dirt.

I love watching them play on the well manicured lawn, and yes, I take much longer mowing the lawn than needed. It is not bad to leave the clippings in the grass but I do not like the grass sticking to their feet and coming inside. Plus, the more I mulch the greener.  May be a bit OCD about yard work.

I spent several hours getting rocks out of this front bed more as a therapeutic measure to avoid depression than an actual need to be meticulous.

 The beginning of this summer in Indiana has been wet and windy.  Wet and windy.  I have come to understand this is Nature's way of pruning the trees and topping the really big ones.  I just do not appreciate the messes in my yard.

Saturday morning Danny wakes me with "there is a lot of wind Mom.  And there is a tree on our trampoline."

We left all the branches and trees on the ground Saturday because it was so soggy outside after torrential rains and Josh needed to help de-flood the basement at our rental.  We hoped for sun in the next few days.

Sunday was sunny, and with rain in the forecast for Monday, we got our 'ox out of the mire' while we could and clipped and hauled branches away.  Josh was having trouble with his chainsaw, perhaps a curse of trying to work on the sabbath, so we just stripped the tree to it's bareness. 

Tramp frame is bent, but the mat is not ripped.  We'll have to figure out how much to invest in fixing that. 

 We got it cleaned up. We figured out the *obvious* problem with Josh's chain saw on Monday and set to work beneath threatening skies. All the logs are stacked tidily outdoors.  It is raining again today. I keep waiting for summer to come.  I think I will protest doing any more yard work until lit does come.  I already have issue with with all the eternal messes I have to clean up with kids being home all day, much less adding 'nature' to the mix; I'm just not that ambitious.

The kitchen was clean when I went to bed, but the time I got down to the kitchen the next morning - it had been attacked by the other 4 people in this home and left for me.  So very thoughtful.  

Judas Iscariot was a our neighbor, wish I would have know that when we moved in.

Two phrases that are rampantly running around my brain trying to keep me from doing something rash and rage filled are from some wise men in my life:

• several year ago when my father was being undeservedly slandered at home while he was serving as a missionary in another part of the country I complained to Dad that he was not fighting back, his response was "Let sleeping dogs lie."  I have relied on that several times in my adult lifetime to keep me from getting into tussles with unseemly slanderers.  
• The second bit of wisdom that is keeping my soul from splitting in shattered faith is from a moment of venting to my husband after the heat of being burned again for having only tried my best.  I proclaimed "the worst is just feeling that you are being targeted and attacked when you have done nothing wrong!"  His response, "At least we are in good company."

I recognize that in light of the crimes in the world and recent hate crimes in South Carolina, my personal plight seems insignificant.  Yet I am hurt and have no where to vent and let it out that is satisfying enough to let this incident fly away from me for good.

Today a very kind man named Jeff showed up to my door.  Jeff works for the Department of Child Services.  He informed me that someone had made a complaint on the 15th about two accounts of abuse of my daughter that needed to be investigated.  I was blind sighted.  I was in the middle of wrapping up a productive day of playdates with my kids and yard work.  My good friend was sitting in my living room chatting about various minivans she is considering to buy.  And then the past jumps out of a dirty trash can and belches its way back into my life.

The two alleged accounts of abuse were in no way inaccurate.  We had, in fact insisted that our daughter eat her eggs at breakfast with the consequence that any food she tried to spit out would be fed back into her mouth.  The classic "you don't leave this table until you eat the food that is good for you" is how the case worker classified it.  The second account was using a cold shower as a consequence.  Yep.  We did that.  When you are resolved to do no physical pain to a child and they are out of control, your options to get their attention are limited.  What is shocking about both of these accounts is that we have not, nor have not needed to use them in over two years.  Meaning the child has moved beyond certain manipulative behaviors and we have a peaceful family and healthy child for having stuck to our guns during a difficult phase.

The question is who and why would this be called in now?  As I mentioned, those accounts occurred two years ago.  I had to ask Jeff again, how old is this request?  DCS only services complaints within 30 days of their report.  I know the rules and that he could not have disclosed who made the complaint.  I didn't have to ask.  There is one person that was once very close to us has become the persecuting Judas.  Someone who was part of my day to day life two years ago and has since turned into someone whose name stabs me to the heart.

You can't really ask what incited Judas to sell Jesus for 30 pieces of silver.  Money doesn't seem like a  good enough answer.  I can't understand why a person whom you have loved, trusted, helped, responded quickly and kindly to for years would suddenly take a turn.  Our only crime was to look for a different house, move out of the neighborhood and thus no longer be able to respond to her whims.  For years I helped with her yard, put up a fence at our labor cost, took care of her complaints of the alleyway, talked with neighbors she didn't like so that she wouldn't have to.  I gave her paint for her home and diapers for her newborn baby.  I weeded her yard and mowed her lawn when she was fully capable of doing it.  I shared the produce from my garden and gave them space in our garage to store their things.  I could have wronged her somewhere along the way, given her some little space to hold onto an error.  I don't get it.  I all know is that life since moving has been worse for us.  From my side of the newly built (demanded and harangued) fence along our abandoned property line that we manage from afar is that she cannot remember one good deed or moment.  She can't see that we were once friends.

And then calling DCS years later?  I know she has called the City on our property which has cost us literally $2000 on immediate update projects.  I know she called animal control on our renters resulting in them having their pets taken away.  We have had to block her number because of harassment and I have refused to pass on information of another renter that has escaped her tangled web of manipulation.  Oh now I sound vindictive....I am venting....I am upset and confused and just don't understand the Judas's of the world.  The ones that sell their friendship, forget it, or the ones that walk guiltlessly into a chapel full of Christian people and put bullets through their hearts.

The recourse left available for those holding onto faith in humanity is forgiveness.  Forgiveness carries with it a process similar to grief - disbelief, anger, resentment, venting, puzzlement, faith, prayer, belief, and choice.  I'll get there.  As Jeff, the bearer of bad news from DCS found out, I have done no harm here.  Let sleeping *female dogs* lie.  We are in good company.

Our home as we left it. (yes Judas lived to the right)

*P.S.  Last night I went to directly confront Judas.  She said she was not the caller on any of the complaints.  Although I don't know if I have built any trust back yet, my soul at least feels free of the burden of worrying why....I put a lot of store on face-to-face communication and I saw in her face at least the realization that any negativity 'anonymously' called in is not without consequence.  There is a great mystery as to whom would want to hurt our family with such accusation.  I did learn that even uncomfortable conversations are better than building up spirals of blame. I don't need scapegoats in my life; I need clarity.  Part of her rebuttal recounted all the positive things she felt she had done to sustain our friendship.  Maybe we all only see the best in ourselves.

Squish, squeeze,...POP!

Today I feel like a pimple on Life's face.  I am irritated, agitated around the edges, and ready to pop.  I find it incredibly ironic that it is now, in the quiet week, that I feel the most emotionally and mentally squeezed rather than during the tumult of end of term projects.  Do I thrive under pressure? Or, do I have a hard time being alone with my thoughts?

I feel as though the emotional work that I have been doing over the past four months both with and through my academic work was what they describe in academic methodology "squishy."  The boundaries that once seemed so firm and constrictive began to give way.  My own concept of my position in life became more malleable as I began to poke at some of my core beliefs about myself.  I took it all in small doses as my life continued to run on around me, which may have been a saving grace.  Now, the race over, I am trying to determine how much squishy = messy.

I find now, with hours of open time to myself that I don't quite understand what "productive" is.  I feel merit in finally just relaxing and breathing; yet as I slow down, I start to go down.  I know depression.  I have spent plenty enough time with it as a house guest in the past that I can recognize it coming up the drive.  I liked the constant pressure of time - squeezing every bit of usefulness out of time.  I made sure to squeeze in time for myself in the midst of it all, but never felt such a victim of time now that I have too much of it.  Josh likes to use the phrase "playing the victim" which perhaps I am this week.  It is Wednesday this week and I am a victim to lost time.  Non-regimented time.  What stresses me most is not deadlines, it is dead time.

In this emotionally vunerable white space that I am experiencing I am ready to burst.  I probably shouldn't take the pimple analogy too far, you can imagine for yourself the white antibodies gathering around the foreign emotions inside of me that are pushing against the surface.  Ready.  So ready with any little bit of prodding to release the pressure.  To pop.  Be careful world, this may all just be a result of fluctuating hormones - but being a pimple is not pleasant.

Sarcasm, bleh!

The world of sarcasm is really starting to rub me wrong.

I have long thought that sarcasm is the less witty version of humor that has evolved out of bitter society and lack of punny things to say.  That may be rooted in lack of education or just being lackadaisical.  Either way, the predominance of sarcasm from the junior high "just kidding" to frankly just over characterizing others in a negative light, all in the ruse of making a sarcastic statement (purportedly humorous) is RUDE.

Sadly, I do admit that I laugh at others expense all the time.  And, some people that are the genuine artifact of dry sarcasm are some of my favorite people.  But, here I am on the end (in a very global not-directly-connected-way) of a sarcastic jibe and I am upset.  Not only that, but after reading a plethora of sarcasm yesterday my spunky optimism was a bit shaken.  RUDE people.

Just goes to show that not everything popular is praiseworthy.

Slow progress

I am to the point with all the projects etc.  that there is very small progress.  That is the most discouraging stage.  There is still a list of little thing to be done before all is completed, but you can't really tell the difference that it has been done until all the other little stuff has been done too!  Grr.   We have had to switch gears a couple of times now too...what with having to rush and get the upstairs apt livable within one week to have the Elders move in.  It is a really nice apartment and I would be lying if I said I didn't wish we could just adopt it all to be part of our house.  Although we have more than enough room as it is!

In fact, along with getting upstairs all fancied - we have been working in the basement too.  It is summer time now and the weather is hot.  The basement is cool though.  What better time to do projects in the basement than right now!  Also, we are getting some cheap carpet remnants for upstairs and the sales guy wanted to unload some bright yellow carpet remnants too!  BRIGHT YELLOW folks.  That pretty much had my name on it from the start.  Since it is 'just the basement' and temporary fix until we really finish out the basement, Josh has no problem with me putting bright yellow carpet all over the place.  I am happy just thinking about it...ohhh, it comes tomorrow.  In the meantime I am making slow progress getting everything organized down there.....I hate it when things don't have a proper home.

To top off this slow moving progress train, I have several amazing books in my reading repretoire.  However, I am making mega slow progress because I can't seem to get through a couple pages before I fall asleep - honking snores and all!  So not fair.  I am actually making the time to read the books because I need their information, but my brain is on turtle mode!  Not fair.  True, I like sleep, but I really like reading.  I hate having to fight my body on two fronts - "I want to read.'  "No! I want to sleep!"  The voices are getting louder, that's probably why I just shut off and ignore them both.

I won't even mention in this slowly made blog post how defeating it was to go on a 3 mile run this morning at my slowest pace EVER.  Progress...I went running.  Slow....that's just slow.

Moving on now...  steady wins the race.

I didn't last long enough

Yesterday, I had my house clean. Oh it looked so very nice. It smelled nice too! The kitchen was clear, the floors buffed, the bathrooms shiney, and the kids, happily watching a movie while I got it to such a state. Alas, it didn't last more than an hour. But I did enjoy it for one glorious hour. Perhaps it is the contrast between doing nothing for days that makes it so nice....perhaps today I shall do nothing again.

Ugh, Arizona

According to a few books I have been reading lately Arizona is the most un-sustainable state in the US. That doesn't come as a surprise to me. With people flocking toward the cheap housing and the cheap housing creating nothing more than housing, more heat and more water consumption, there is a problem! I have not been a fan of it, to say the least, since I got here.

But since I am here, I am going to look forward to the winter months and plan to make my little plot of land the most sustainable in the state, or close. With a few solar panels, some lasagna gardening techniques, rain water storage and chickens, I might be able to pull it off. Of course, a cow or goat would be nice for both the dairy and meat aspect......I wonder how many times we will get the HOA looking at us a bit askance. Hey, the worst they can do is throw me out of this inferno anyhoo! Haa! Joke's on you, you lousy desert land.

Perhaps if I were an native indian I would feel different about the resources at hand....but casinos are hardly sustainable...although the Navajo have been doing a fabulous job of actually using their own waste to build there own houses, read about Navajo FlexCrete, fascinating.

I find it no coincidence that Arizona State University has the first and most burgeoning master's program for sustainability in the nation. At least they can see there is a problem....and now how to get the rest of the ciztizens on board.
The only problem with knowing more about all this is that I want to do more and tell more people but people hardly care right now. Ah well. At least I have scientific evidence as to my distaste toward my current host state. One positive for me right now with all this jumbled mess; Arizona has the highest rate of people in the Department of Economic Security, the government (federal and state) branch that takes care of such programs as welfare, disabled persons, food stamps, and foster children. With a 56% increase in cases applied to the system in one years time, that means there must be a baby just waiting to come to our home, or several, for a little bit of our love. Now if only the case managers would have enough time to put through there loads of cases so that we can actually get a liscence processed before the end of the year.....ugh Arizona.