seriouslyscorpio

thoughts of the moment and of my life


TIME TO BE LESS OF A JERK!!!


My lovely sister and her adult daughter have been badly mis-treated by their former husband/father.  Their lives have been tortured and torn, but they are making their way back to healthy living.  Daughter now has a wonderful job and lives at home with mom, now that she has a serious romance in Canada. Together they work long hours but together they keep the house lovely, and the horses and pets happy.  The divorce was over last April..signed off by the judge, who leaves a lot to be desired as judges go, however that’s another story.

The ex’s attorney sees to it that she continues to make $300 an hour from him and forces my sis’s attorney to spend $300 an hour because of her. If you are not sure about this….it goes this way.  Ex’s attorney writes letters asking for meaningless numbers which forces sis’s attorney to respond, stating it is meaningless.  See how the dollars work…..

There is nothing left to do but to sell one or both of the two corrals and split the profit.  Ex husband has things to pick up that are his, but he doesn’t, even tho the judge ordered him to, and that causes one corral to look kind of bad.  To try to force him to pick stuff up will only cost more $300 an hour letters, so it is well left alone.  Sister has the horses which she has had and cared for herself for more than 20 years.  Remember I say ‘herself’….she would like one of the corrals to continue keeping her horses in, as they are in their late 2o’s and she had them all these years. 

The corral problem continues to drag on because ex refuses to talk to her or to take either one of the corrals and be done with it.  As you can see the $300 an hour can go on forever at this speed.  His only desire is to make her life miserable, in absentia.  And so it continues. 

Also, if there is an offer on one or both of the corrals, he has to accept it….or no deal.   More $300 an hour letters.  She has offered him choice property and wants to be done with it…….the jerk continues to be a jerk. I keep thinking he couldn’t be more of a jerk, but he can.

Divorce is hard enough without a jerk being a real jerk.  It’s time for ex Mr. Harward to be less of a jerk, call it a day, take his half and quit spending $300 an hour.   (I think  1 1/2 years is enough for any jerk to be a jerk to his family)   Let him be a jerk to someone else…..oh right, there no one else in his life to be a jerk to!


GIVE IT UP FOR………


Here we are, bumping along.  There are ‘up’ days, ‘medium’ days, (normal) and ‘down days’. (Really all three are normal, right)  So here we are, bumping along, and then……there we go.  Exit bumping. Exit normal days.  Exit life..we’re dead!

Now what shall become of us…..woulda, coulda, shoulda thoughts ‘should’a’ occurred prior to the ‘exit’ sign above us, but sometimes our ducks are not just ‘all in a row’, if you know what I mean. 

Wait, what about that little card?  I had that somewhere…dang where is it, my wallet, my purse, my top left drawer in the bedroom, with my passport, dang!

Well, not to worry now……as in ‘Elvis has exited……”. But, for the sake of this article, you do (or did) have that nice card.   This card is way past nice, it is the best of the best, the cat’s meow, the Taj Mahal, lotto, and more.   “Why”, you ask?  Simple……If  you only have one kidney that works, if you are blind, if your liver is shot, if your heart only pumps because of a machine, or heavy medication, this little card will be all the above and more.

You, the one newly exited,  offer the gift of life, with this little card. People and organizations world-wide have come together to offer those in need, a new chance at life, and you, my friend, are the integral part.  It is you who have, at one time, usually when you renewed your driver’s license, made the choice to donate your useful organs. Of course, at that time, death was at least 10 light years away, so it was not thought about prayerfully, but now!!!!!…….as you move on to the beautiful place you chose….that decision made in life is making life for others possible. 

The stuff worked for you while you had it and needed it, but now, it is surplus. For that child needing a new kidney, it is beyond words. For the soldier, blind from serving his country, it is the open door to life and work and family. For these thankful recipients, it is not surplus, it is opportunity………

……to begin to just ‘bump along’.

 


FRIENDS


Friends….they come in all sizes, shapes, colors, and years.   I find in my case, most of my friends, didn’t start out day 1 being, what I call, a ‘friend’.  I knew them in grade school. Their desk was beside mine.  It didn’t matter if they were male or female. Either we clicked in second grade, or we didn’t.  Maybe we shared recess and that was all…..never knowing anything else about each other.  It wasn’t really important, was it?  Maybe we played musical instruments together in the band….remember those ‘flute’ things we all started on…..before choosing the ‘instrument of choice’.  Maybe we walked to school together and then went our separate ways to different classes. I remember how we would meet “at the corner’ and share our lives, as we knew them, til we got to school.  Yes, we did walk to school, a mile one way, and we came home for lunch too.  How wonderful it was, and still is, to grow up in a small town.

My grade school friends have become my life long friends……there were birthday parties, slumber parties, and chili suppers, and basketball games. We  marched together  in the band on the coldest of football Fridays, and sweat up a storm in the July 4th Parade.

In our neighborhood we had all ages of friends….some were 5 years younger and some were 5 years older.  We all had come to the neighborhood at the same time when the little National Homes were being built in the early 50’s. Everyone had younger brothers and sisters, who were definitely in the way, so we  girls had our private times sitting on the curb under the street light, taking walks around the block, sitting under the maple trees catching lightning bugs, and laying on a blanket underneath the stars before the dew fell.

From late spring til late fall we played ‘kick the can’ until our parents called us in…..or in my case, rang the bell.  My mother had a school bell and we all knew that when the bell rang, that ment ‘come home and come home now!’  I think if someone would ring a school bell now, at age 68, I would suddenly become 12 again.

 Later on the friendships seemed to solidify, and we all felt comfortable venturing outside our town to Girl Scout Camp for 2 weeks and then to church camp for a week where we met ‘boys’. I don’t know who was the most scared.  Oh, thank goodness for friends.

As I continued on this journey, thru school, and jobs, and marriage, and kids, and divorce, etc, etc…..there are many acquaintances who have come and gone.  The neighborhood I grew up in, transformed to the first apartment, and then house I shared with 4 other girls.  My marriage brought me to a new town with our first  home, and, as if in some  large orderly plan,  a friendly street, where my children would come to repeat the process.  And so it goes.

My Christmas card list is full of friends. Even today there are those I meet who may become part of this precious list.  As I address each card,  thoughts of how we came to share our lives, some by mere coincidence,  come to mind. Our babies are long gone, our work in the Jaycees,  long forgotten, our church suppers and Sunday school teaching, turned over to the young adults, but our friendship, our memories, our defeats, and our successes, remain as bright and clear as if it were yesterday.

 Friends…….I am so blessed they came to enrich my life….


ABUSED…….HERE AND THERE


Remember we’ve talked about abuse in a few blogs prior to today? Well, we did.

Anyhow, I see that in Kansas they don’t have enough time to take on the physical abuse of women for awhile….seems they just don’t have the money, or whatever.

My sister was physically and mentally abused for 20+ years……I have written about it but never published because they are ending up a nasty divorce and I do not want to provoke anything.  HOwever, in the next few weeks (into November) I will rethink, check on the status of the ‘leftovers’ in the divorce and I will write it for you to read and digest.

Be informed that my sister is no slouch…..she’s is not one of those poor, put down, and mentally impoverished women you think of as being ‘an abused wife’.

I say she ‘IS’ not but she was….and in such a subtle way. To meet her in public, to visit with her during dinner, to see her in action in a busy ER in a large city, saving, saving, saving…..you would never, I say, NEVER know. But when the day ended, and her work complete, she would go home broken, tearful, and terribly afraid of what was ahead for the evening.

There are nights when she and my niece would find themselves out on the street, having to, yet again, find a hotel.  There were nights when, after working 12 hours, she would be up til 4AM being screamed and yelled at…..a tactic often used by abusive men to help ‘their women’ understand that if they would just ‘do this’ or ‘do that’, the men would not lose their tempers.

There were nights when physical threats turned into the real thing….. and my grown niece was there to watch.

So when states seem to have problems covering phone calls from abused women, I take a stand, both in anger, and in the hope they acknowledge their ignorance of the terrors of  life.

As one can see by the terrible crime in Seal Beach, Ca. even a restraining order does nothing to keep a women safe.  Shame on those who seem to overlook lives coming so close to death.  Just one phone call may keep them alive…..or if the abuser knows, can kill them.

WAKE-UP!  There may be only minutes left for woman who desperately needs the siren to come down her street. She is counting on  her one chance….her phone call that may open the door to a more peaceful existance……The 911 call…the call to a friend or neighbor can be occurring at this moment.

PLEASE DON’T FORGET HER…….                                            later, with love