Staying here, staying busy

We all used to sit out here and talk into the night. The kids would run around and play together, probably believing they'd be close as brothers and sisters forever.


You know, the weather forecasters are making such a BIG FAT HAIRY DEAL about the upcoming heatwave that they're ruining the few good days we have beforehand. It is going to be an ugly time, dangerous too, so it's good to be warned but geez.

Gary took his mom to get her hair done today then to run a couple of errands. I still don't miss going over there, not even a little bit. I don't want to see what the house and lawn look like, or dodge snakes and big spiders because of the long grass and weeds. Her basement is usually a nightmare and Larry probably still has that "bar" down there.

That one time he had a group of guys over there and they were all drinking, I couldn't get that image out of my head. I don't think any of them thought much of us cutting through the basement to get upstairs, and I wish we hadn't.

Gary said it wasn't all that cool in his mom's house, even though the a/c was on. She doesn't like it too cold, she gets chilled and it is her house after all. After visiting during the summer months and sitting in that stifling kitchen drinking coffee, I just couldn't take it any more. Add to that, the ceiling fan hadn't worked for a long time (the light part did, which only made the room hotter), and with Tom and Gary smoking around the table, it was pretty hard to take.

I know it helps to keep busy, and I'm thankful for that. I don't have time to be concerned about those I no longer see or worry about why the rest of the family dislikes me. There are more important things to do with my mind, time, and effort.

There is one thing. I think I've spent more time crying about Clint these past few months than the rest of the almost eight years combined. I wish I could tell, just by a feeling in my heart and soul whether he's OK or not but there's nothing. And I'm exhausted from trying to figure things out so I shut that door for a while. It hurt too damn much to keep banging my head against it.

Until next time,
Margi