Confrontation

Well I am a dope. A dope with a bad temper. A currently freaked out frazzled dope with a bad temper.

No food or water for little dog all day yesterday again. I went over at 6pm to give her some. And owner came home. In his dress army uniform. (There was a fair parade here last eve.) He was nice at first. Thanked me for looking out for the dog. Then she put her paw on my foot and whimpered. There was one tiny bite of dog food under my foot. I moved my foot and she ate it. She had earlier eaten two packages of food out of the dirt because she couldn't wait until I put it in a bowl. She drank all the water. When she whimpered I went ballistic. I yelled at him. I was crying. I hollered "What kind of a person are you to leave a dog in this condition. You are a disgrace to that uniform." He then got in my face and screamed for me to get off his property. I was scared but stood my ground and told him I had called the cops and the humane society. He began yelling "Get off my land and never come back." I picked up the my water can and empty dog food packets and left. I shook all the way home. I scared Mark to death because I came in the house and just howled. He didn't know where I had gone and thought I was dying. When I told him the story he got mad at me. Yelled "I told you to stay away from there that nut could have killed you." He kept hugging me in between the hollering. I sobbed for a couple of hours. We then went for a walk and out for an ice cream cone. I couldn't eat it.

Well I balled it all up. Now I have no access to the dog. She has no one to protect her. Why oh why did I have to get mad and shoot off my mouth? Like I was some plump avenging angel in baggy shorts. Gad. I am a dope. A well meaning dope but still a dope.

I love Mark almost as much as I love the cats. I tell him that. He sat me down and told me about all the abused and neglected kids he daily deals with. And the lack of any way institutionally to help most of them. It is real bad here because this is a rural area with no access to any support systems. The churches and charity groups do what they can but they are hamstrung by regulations. Social services are overwhelmed and have no place to put these kids when they take them out of the homes. There is no foster care or residential care at all. He told me all of this to help me cope with the pain of being unable to help the dog. He says he does what he can for the kids that cross his path and then gives them to God. Then he moves on. Says his shoulders are not broad enough to carry the weight of the pain in the world. Says that is why we have God. God will carry the pain. Says that if God cared for the sparrow he will care for the dog.

I read a story years ago about a Utopian society that functioned because of a child imprisoned in a basement with minimal food and water and no contact with the outside world. The child lived in disease and filth and loneliness. Its presence was known to each and every person in the society above. The child's pain was continually reflected against everyday life thereby allowing all the citizens to value what they had. I hated this story. Still do. But it has wisdom. Christ said the poor would always be with us. And the battered and murdered and starved. As a Christian I believe God's love is the only answer to the pain of the present world. It is just hard for me to hang on to this belief in the face of cruelty. I grew up a lot last night. At 50. It is about time I guess.

Thanks to my readers and commenters. There are days I don't know what I would do without you. Take care of yourselves. Love Bea.

Power

"Beggars can't be choosers." One of my core beliefs. I crashed head-on into this false superstition in the past couple of weeks. It has been distressing to say the least.

The electricity has gone on and off, the water has gone on and off, I have been intermittently trapped in the house by construction equipment, relatives arrived and stayed longer than anticipated, I couldn't fix an innocent dog's awful life, and then we began playing games with a home owner and real estate agent. I have felt powerless for almost a month. I am a controller and hate to be manipulated by events or people. I am being taught to give up control.

I am sensitive about my boundaries. After suffering no boundaries for years at a time, I now tend to do the opposite and build walls. I am very conscious of my rights. No one dare attempt to "put one over on me." Selling real estate is all about putting one over on someone. I have been a basket case about this house and the proposed six foot fence. I did not sleep at all for two nights. I perseverated about perceived wrongs being done to me. I talked about potential problems with the house sale non-stop. I created scenarios in my mind in which I told all an sundry just what they could do with their houses and construction equipment. I stole the dog and road off into the sunset. I dreamed about laying down the law to everyone and then stomping out with head held high. I have power problems. And I do not mean electricity. In my soul I still believe I am powerless. To counter this feeling I have had to always come out on top. (Yes Mark has threatened to dump me a couple of times.) I have no give and take. I am either an absolute winner or an abject loser. Considering my beggar belief I am surprised how often I win. But at a great cost. Imagine forcing situations and people to your will while at the core believing you should lose. Pain. And what have I been doing to stop the pain? Quarts of ice cream in the past few days. Only it isn't working.

I go to great lengths to avoid facing myself and my pain. But the only way out is through. So I have prayed and asked to be given the grace to turn and face my troubles. I am not dead but it isn't any fun. And it isn't over. I can't/won't save the dog. She is back and the situation is the same. No one can/will do anything and I am not going to steal her. So I drive past her tied up under the tree and my heart breaks daily. The six foot fence is going up. The owner wants the fence and we live with it or back out of the deal. I want the house. I will make peace with the fence. I rent this house. The water and the electricity are out of my hands. The Water Works will eventually be done and water will again be constant. Former and current owner of this house came over. There is a short somewhere in the house which can't be located. Former owner said she just got used to doing her laundry between 4 and 6pm. (Times when there is continual power in the laundry room.) And so will I.

I have wasted a huge amount of energy this month attempting to fix unfixable things. I have been wild in my mind. And sugar refused to cure me. A blessing of sorts. I am not a beggar or with out power. I just never learned how to use the power I do have. First and foremost I was not taught how to view my feelings with choice. I may not have choice in an initial emotional reaction but very soon there after I can choose how I am going to feel. This is power. It is hard to learn at 50. I can choose how I am going to react to situations and people. I always thought the Serenity Prayer was sappy. The alcoholics' Pledge of Allegiance if you will, and having nothing to do with me. I am choosing to change my mind about it. I have been praying for wisdom and courage. I do not want to joust at windmills or spend days scaling molehills. I want to hand my worries over to God and accept peace of mind.

So...I am back to singing hymns real loud to stop the perseverating thoughts. I have forgiven myself for being too controlling, again. I choose to believe God loves me and has good things planned for my life. I have prayed about the dog and the fence and the house. I have done what I know to do. I choose to believe God is directing my life. When I get it all balled up the Great I Am can with ease unravel it. I guess there-in is the real power. Amen

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea.

What A Week

Well I think we may soon own a house. And we have no money. Amazing what a good credit rating will get you. We started the process with earnest money yesterday. We are still dickering about a fence. A six foot fence. I am 5'5". Part of the reason for buying the house is for the view. With a six foot fence the only view I would have would be the fence. When we were drawing up the contract-for-sale we found out the owners live next door in one of the mansions. As a condition of sale they want to wall off their new huge gorgeous house from our little old house, with said six foot fence. This could be a deal breaker for me. I hate being closed in. I hope the fence thing works out. I love this little odd old house.

The house is on a corner lot in Grover. Grover is five miles from where we now live. It has a general store/post office and dirt streets. Our proposed house is close to the base of the mountains. It was built in the 20's. It is small and two story. It is clean and cute. It has no garage. In snow country this is a real disadvantage. And it is one of the reasons the house is in our price range. We would put up some sort of car ports for the winter and build a garage next summer. Old house has old yard. Lilac bushes, apple tree and stumps of some really massive trees. Lawn is still in fair shape. View is to die for. We are surrounded on two sides in the back by landscaped parks for two gigantic houses. Our little old lot intersects with both of them. I am sure they do not want to look at this frowzy lot next to their manicured lawns, hence the fence. Dirt streets border our other two sides. Old farmsteads to the north and west. Very picturesque.

Inside all new paint, carpet, linoleum, appliances and counter top. Two very large back to back weird old bathrooms. Mark says if we have overflow guests they can sleep in the bathrooms. Kitchen is huge. My round old oak table (dining table) will have to fit in one corner as there is no dining room. I think old buffet will also have to go in kitchen. No dishwasher or garbage disposal or range hood, yet. That is the joy of home owning. As we can afford it we can put all of that stuff in. Until then I am content. I have never lived in a house with a dishwasher. Isn't that weird in this day and age? We are going to have to get rid of mucho furniture. We have five desks. Five. Why do two people need five desks? And the camping gear. Good grief. We were tent campers for years. With the stuff we have accumulated we could live in the forest and forget buying a house. And the lawn furniture. Were are we going to store all of that? And the books. We have sixteen full to overflowing bookcases.... Frankly I am going to think about this tomorrow.

My mother and sister-in-law were with me when I found the house. Finding the house was serendipity. Then we met the realtor. That is a story for tomorrow. Gad I hate salesmen. He kept patting my back and squeezing my arm. I finally said "stop that" and he looked like I had poleaxed him. Asshole. Sorry. I was going to stop swearing. But sometimes you need to call a creep a creep.

Okay back to the fence fight and contemplating way too much stuff. Take care of yourselves. Love Bea.

Update

Mark's Mom and Sister here. We have water. Still no electricity in half the house. No electricians to be had. Bunches of new construction and they do not want to be bothered with a small job like us. I guess I will get used to going to the washateria. ( Don't you love that word. So much more expressive than laundromat.) Little dog is gone. I hope the kid's parents have her. We are going to look at a house to buy this afternoon. It is small and old and charming. I am going to get shed of some of this stuff I own one way or another. This house would do it. No dining room for starters. But where would I store my crap if not on the dining room table? Okay back to hostessing.

Take care. Love Bea

Happier Ending (see yesterday's post)

I spent the day running down the block to check on the dog. She had a patch of grass, shade and water. I went and bought dog food. She damn near bit me when I put the food down. I put the food in a Styrofoam bowl. She tried to eat the bowl when the food was gone. I fed her three times through out the day. Each time was like this. She slept like the dead most of the day in spite of the construction. The neighbor beside her said she had heard the dog whimpering for the past three days. Neighbor is an elderly woman. She said she knew the parents of one of the apes who owns her. Said she would call the parents to come and take care of the dog. I was still cleaning so did not see anyone arrive, but by ten p.m. there were lights on in the house and she was not tied up outside.

I called the police who were sympathetic but not helpful. Pound was full to splitting. No place to put her. I volunteer to take her. Owners of the house nixed that idea but said they would use their pull to try to find a place for her. I called the Humane Society. I got a recording. It is staffed by all volunteers. I left my message. Secretary at the police department said the humane society people investigate animal abuse and usually are able to help the animal. The cop said he would drive by periodically in the next few days and if she was without food, water or shade would, "Put the fear of God in those boys."

I was a nurse too long to expect a perfect outcome. This was good enough. The little dog, actually she is not so little just skinny, is inside and I hope has food and water. I hope the parents took her home. I hope the humane society can get her out of there. When the owners come home I will tell them to expect the Humane society and the cops to be checking on them. I have dog food in reserve if needed and got it okayed to bring her here and tie her to my tree if they leave her alone for more than eight hours. I hate renting.

Speaking of renting. The electricity in half the house quit yesterday. The half with the washer and dryer in it. I washed a set of sheets in the bath tub and then dried them on the line. After much time wasting investigation it was determined the electrical problem has nothing to do with the construction and is integral to the house. It is the weekend and the owners don't want to pay for an electrician until Monday. Stove and fridge and fans work. It is the best I am going to get. Good news. The water is on for the whole weekend.

I could not sleep last night. But I didn't eat. Amazing. I am drained and guilt ridden and sad this morning. I remember the feeling. I came home from work with it every night for twenty years. Life is not fair and my efforts will not make it so. But I did what I could and sure made a lot of noise. Odd thing. Most of the people on the street stopped me yesterday to thank me for trying to help the dog. I didn't know anyone else cared or noticed. What a world.

Okay guests arrive in four hours. Have to put sheets on one bed, revac living room and sweep porch. I am not cooking one darn thing. We are going out to eat.

Take care of yourselves. Pray for the little dog, and me. Love Bea

Early Morning Rescue

I am in pain folks and I am not sure what to do about it. There is this little dog.... This morning she was dragging around a lawn mower. The idiots across the street had tied her to a lawn mower. I don't know when. At some point she drug it out into the street and it promptly fell into one of the holes. This is how we found her this morning. Strangling on the end of the chain holding onto the edge of the hole for dear life. Mark got in the hole and pushed the lawn mower out. We then unwound her. She whimpered and licked my hand. Oh crap I am crying. She is so skinny. I have heard her howl for months now. They leave her outside in all kinds of weather. We took her back to the trashed house in which she lives. No one home as usual. No food or water for her. We tied her to a tree so she could have shade. I went home and got a coffee can and took water back for her. She kept licking me. She tried to prevent me from leaving by blocking my way with her body. I can see her from my porch. And she can see me. She is staring non stop at the house. She stands up and barks when I go out onto the porch. I don't know what to do.

Mark says to leave her alone she is not our dog. She has now been outside under the tree for four hours. She does have water but no food. I have been debating about calling the cops. There is no animal control here. I don't know what the cops could do. The pound is full and they are begging people to foster animals. I'd steal her but we rent and live right next door to the owners. I don't know what I would do with her. She is a very skinny young lab. She is so friendly, and lonely. I hate it that people mistreat their animals. Just kills me. She is scared of all the huge construction equipment. I guess I will talk with Mark at noon. I'd like to bring her over here and tie her up in the yard and feed her. Mark says I can't steal the neighbor's dog in full view of all the other neighbors and the construction guys. But I am going to do something before the day is done. Thanks for listening. I have got to get back to cleaning while the water is on.

Take care. Love Bea

Change and Change Again

Mark's mom and sister are coming this weekend. I hope we have water. Cancelled all the travel plans. What a relief. I need to investigate why I am resisting going back home. But not today. Today I am cleaning and trying to figure out how to keep the upstairs cool. Also checking out motel prices in case all of us end up in one. My eating has gone to hell in a handbag. Oh well. Once we have continuous water again and company has left I will get back on the stick. Until them I am going to eat cherries and raspberry pie.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea.

Not An Official Post

Do you ever wonder if you dropped dead if anyone would notice? I do. Over the years my life has bumped up against some few others. But if I was dead would they care? Has my life counted enough to generate even moderate mourning? I don't know. I think I am in the midst of this blue funk because I don't want to vacuum the living room. Mark's sister is not coming. She will wait for water. Can't blame her. New plans. We are now going "home" for the weekend. I am not ready. I don't want to go back. Going back was what derailed my weight loss months ago. I do not want to see the dead lawn (reported by a friend) around my beloved house. I do not want to see all the people at church who will tell me they miss me. I don't want to see my thinner weight loss buddy. I don't want to see the person who got Mark's old job and makes $30,000 more year than he did. I do not want to try to fit in to my old life. I do not want to drive 500 miles in day. So I am thinking about death...and not vacuuming.

Sometimes I make myself laugh. Guess I'll vacuum.

Bye Bea

Greed (Official Post)

The digging continues. We did get both cars out of the driveway. They are parked a block away. Walking to them is like traversing a war zone. Now the owners of the house have decided to put in a new waterline to the house while the street is torn up. I may never have water again. I am glad for all of this really. Water running 24/7 for six months a year is maddening. Hopefully the new pipes will not freeze and I will not be hooked up to the neighbors all winter by hoses. The construction has slowed considerably as someones keep sabotaging the equipment. No one knows why. This is way more than just kid stuff. They have already destroyed one huge piece of equipment. Poor Mark. They are digging up our street and the street in front of his office. He has become real chummy with the school administration people as he has been using their facilities for two weeks now. Can't pee at home or at work. And he is hip deep in the investigations about the vandalism. Good thing he is cheerful by nature.

I just finished the third book How To Survive Your Diet about Intuitive Eating. It may have been the best of the lot, and the first two, The Rules of Normal Eaing by Karen Koenig and Intuitive Eating by Evelyn Tribole and Elyse Resch, were marvelous. The author, Linda Moran, talks a lot about greed. I thought this would drive me nuts. I was raised on the seven deadly sins. Just the sins. Nothing about forgiveness or help, just sin. But I was easily able to accept and apply her concept of greed. I am greedy for all good things in life. More of that "never get enough" thinking. I want to eat all of something tasty even if I am full. And I do know when I am full. And it is making me mad. (Here comes the greed part.) I sigh. When I am full I sigh. I sigh early on in a meal. While I am eating I consciously check out my hunger level. I can tell when I am full. I may not be stuffed but I am "satiated. " Satiated is her goal. Not full, just full enough. Darn, darn, darn. I want to eat it all. What ever all might be. How can my body be full on half a sandwich and a glass of milk? Stoopid sighing.

I am fighting my body's smallish appetite with every once left of me. I do not want to eat little bits of stuff. I want mounds of it. Even if "mounds" turns out to be the correct portions for my food plan. I am short and small boned and fifty. My body does not need, or apparently want, all the calories I am inhaling. But my mind wants to eat...more. And it makes me mad. I thought once I figured out how to recognize when I was full I would automatically stop wanting to eat. Ha, ha, ha. Compulsive eating is not about hunger. Bet you didn't know that. Once more into the breech dear sisters.

Eat less and exercise more. What, Oh God, if that has been the answer all along? I need to eat less. Not just less than not bingeing, but less food than my food plan. And I am resisting. With IE the idea is to eat small/moderate amounts of good tasting food and to feel satiated. Satisfied. I have been trying. I got some good tasting stuff I have been avoiding. I ate just enough. I sighed. I waited an hour. I was full. I was not anxious. And then I ate all the rest of it. And was sick.

I know this can work. But I have to face down greed. I know I can get more cheesecake and M&M's and do not have to eat all of it at once. But I want to. I want the sensation (those seven deadly sins) of taste to never end. Fooey. I am wallowing in sensation. Again. Okay all that early tutelage was not for not. I recognize sin. Not habit, not security, not painkilling, just the greedy desire for unending sensation. Sensation which closes out God, or anything else. Hence sin.

Pray for me as I will for thee...love Bea.

P.S. I know the links don't work. Will try to fix them later.
P.S.S. Now the links work. I didn't do anything to them. This computer is possessed.

Self Hatred as Sin

I have two friends suffering from fulminating self hatred. One is holding her own and the one is going down for the count. Pisses me off.

After a couple of quiet months my body is currently staging another hormonal insurrection. Yesterday I gained from 181 in the morning to 186 by eight pm. With no salty/sugary food. This morning I have giant pimples on my chin and my hair is so oily it is sticking to my head. I got three hours sleep last night, and sweat through that. I said all that to say this. I don't hate myself this morning. "Poor thing I said to the mirror while applying pimple cream. You are too young and beautiful to be suffering like this." I put on my biggest bra and my mormon jumper. And thongs. I look and feel terrible. And hugely fat. I can only look out from under my blebs and...laugh. Hysterically. We don't have water this morning.

Not so long ago I would have been suicidal by this point. What has made the difference? I have stopped hating myself. Well and truly stopped. Back to sin.

I believe self hatred is sin. I think it is a choice. And I think it slowly sends the hater and the hated to hell. A self determined current as well as an eventual literal hell. This is the first time I have said this out loud. It sounds cruel and heretical. It isn't.

I stopped hating myself by choosing to stop. Do I still feel self hatred? Yes. I was instructed as a child to hate myself and it became habitual. We treat ourselves as we have been treated. As I never challenged this habit it just got stronger and stronger. In fact I never even noticed it until Mentor Mary pointed it out. I was in my thirties. By then it was permanently etched in my brain. Yes permanent. I think I will always have to consciously choose between self hatred and self love. In any kind of stressful situation I will always attack myself first. But I can stop the attack. And I do believe it is an attack. And I am not the only one motivating the assault. I am also being attacked by Satan. Or Lucifer, or generalized evil or whatever is the name of the destructive (as opposed to Creative) power in the universe. Something out there hates us (humanity) and wants to destroy us. If we aid in the process so much the better. Hence the sin of self hatred. We are helping the destruction separate us from Creation. Self hatred sends us slowly down to death.

Okay by the close of yesterday I hated my bloated body. I was disgusted with my giant boobs, sausage fingers, spare tire stomach and tree stump ankles. I felt hatred for this ugly water logged prison. Notice the separation of "me" from the "prison." I know this to be the first warning sign of a major self hatred attack. The separation of church (me) and state (my body). So I felt self hatred but chose to say, "Poor old you. What a thing to happen to such a peach of a person." Then I patted my face. Every time my too tight bra pinched and I felt fat and logy, I said the same thing. I did this every five minutes for a while. Then I got up and changed bras. Oh, I also asked for God to forgive my self hatred and protect me from the attacker.

My friends are letting self hatred use up their precious days. And it is getting worse. Most sin does unless consciously repented of. Repent = to change directions. I care about them. The waste of their lives and talents is driving me nuts.

Take care of yourselves. Change directions. Love Bea.

Digging and Fashion

I am surrounded by giant construction equipment. The car is blocked in the driveway. They dug a three foot wide trench across it while I wasn't looking. Thank God Mark got out to go to work. At least we have a car we can use. There is booming and banging and men hollering at each other. You'd swear they were putting up a skyscraper rather than laying water pipe in a little backwater (no pun) town. The cats are scared spit less and are hiding under the beds. Mark's sister is due to arrive sometime this week. Crapdoodle. I have been looking forward to seeing her all summer and now she arrives right smack dab in the middle of the construction. I warned her she might have to rent a motel room to get a shower. I have pails of water in the bathtub to flush the toilets. I haven't had a shower and the water just went off. Doggone it. (Frankly Scarlets I hate these ersatz swear words but I am determined to quit cursing.) I did yell the F word in the parking lot after choir practise last eve. I don't think anyone heard me. Gad. I knew it had gotten out of hand, but you don't realize how pervasive a thing is until you are trying to quit.

Back to shopping. Friend Kim is no skinny mini. She is tall and has lost a bunch of weight. And still has some more to go. I am relaying this because she got compliments in every darn store we went in. Every store. Even the guys at the feed store checked her out. We went pottery shopping because Kim is pottery mad. The pottery shop, Blue Fox Studio/Gallery, in Star Valley is run by two gay guys. One is the potter and the other is the jeweler. They have great stuff and the cutest deaf dog known to man, or men. They have a rough time here in the land of moderation. I know this because Mark has had to stop the harassing phone calls they periodically receive. Anyway Friend Kim and I are shopping when I notice the jeweler staring at Kim. I knew he wasn't firting so was curious about the intense observation. I poked Kim and said, "That guy is looking at you." She graciously made eye contact and smiled at him. He literally gushed over to us. "You aren't from here are you," he said to Kim. No she was from Reno. "I knew it he said. It is your outfit and accessories." Kim had on black two inch platform no back leather sandals, black capri pants with a silver and black leather belt, a red sleeveless scoop necked silk blouse with coy painted in black and gold on it, twisted silver hoop earrings, a thick filigreed silver and mother of pearl ring, tortoise shell sun glasses with beaten silver insets in the bows, and a little rolled brim straw hat. Oh and a giant red leather purse with a silver buckle on the front. She has red/brown curly hair and freckles. This was her casual look. No she definitely wasn't from here. I was.

I didn't have on the Mormon missionary jumper. I had on elastic waist jeans, birkenstocks and a short sleeved button front seersucker checkered shirt I got at the Dollar store. I could have hugged a tree. Now I am as environmentally conscious as the next woman but I am tired of looking like Euell Gibbons. Fooey. No one asked me where I was from. This was the first shopping day. If I had known it was going to go on all week like this I'd have spiffed up a bit. Mark did alleviate some of the dowdy doldrums I experienced at the pottery shop. He bought me a choker length strand of gold pearls. Gorgeous. They looked fine with my rural Wyoming woman outfit.

Okay water has come back on. I am going to the bathroom, taking a shower and running the clothes in the washer through the rinse cycle. In that order. More shopping tomorrow.

Take care of yourselves. Get rid of your jumpers. Love Bea.

Deadly Serious

I don't do fun. Yes I enjoy myself in all sorts of permutations, but I don't have much fun. Some of it is my basic personality type, but most of it is choice. To have fun is to be hopeful. I have not been very hopeful. Fearful yes. Hopeful no. And yet I believe in hope, as a concept. As a life choice however, it has just seemed naive. If you never expect anything then you are never disappointed. And, you never have any darn fun.

I hate being disappointed. It feels like dying. I have avoided disappointment at all costs for years. Hence I haven't risked much. But I am going to take some risks. I can survive being disappointed. This is new thinking. I can survive awful emotions. The pain will not kill me. And, big surprise, I am an adept at tolerating pain. I thought I was a wimp who wilted under any kind of pain. Nay not so. I am good at enduring pain. I have done it since childhood. I just fear it. But now that I know I am brave, and I will survive, I can endure. So...back to fun.

Andrea and I love our bicycles. On mine I am ten years old. The whole of life and its endless wonderful possibilities open out to me as I ride. The wind whistles through my helmet and tugs at my jacket and I am free. Free. The beauty of this word sings in my soul. I have begun having a new emotion as I ride. It feels like bubbles. In my stomach maybe. It is elusive. I can hardly name it. It is excitement for sure. (Another deficient emotion.) The new emotion says, "Something wonderful is going to happen." "Watch and wait and expect miracles." Hope. I have finally tapped into hope. The balance of my life can be filled with hope. I can look forward to grace and fun. The second half of my life will be better than the first. Good things will happen to me. (I sound like Oral Roberts.) I will risk it.

Mark and I had a water fight last night. He is a funster from way back. He says one of my problems was/is a lack of siblings. I never learned to play. He is going to teach me. Says I am hampered at games because I run like a girl.... Who knew, all these years I thought it was just because I was fat as a horse. I also whine if I get hurt. Apparently this is verboten in games. Running and whining can be fixed and I can learn to play he says. I hope to God this is not just another one of his crackpot theories. But if it is, oh well, at least I will have had some fun. We are going to go to the carnival at the fair tonight.

Take care of yourselves. Have some fun. Love Bea.

P.S. So far I still have water. There is a big hole in the front lawn and a thing like a water heater is laying out there. I think it is some sort of valve shut off deal. Very interesting. I see why all the old pipes froze in the winter. They are barely below the surface. They seem to be burying the new ones deeper. And so it goes.

The Mormon Jumper

Friend Kim has gone home and the city has shut off my water. I don't think they are related. The city is putting in all new water lines this summer. They have now reached our street. Thank God it is this week and not last week. Giant piles of rock and pavement are everywhere and the water goes on and off intermittently. As do the lights and phone. They have cut several buried electric and phone cables. Is a hassle.

I had a great time last week. Learned many things. I will be getting rid of my fat jumper. A store clerk at Chico's asked Kim, "What is that thing your friend is wearing? Is she Mormon?" Mormon. Gad. Yes indeed this place is a bastion of Joseph Smith's church and maidenly modesty, but for Heaven's sake, I didn't look that dowdy. Okay it is a little loose. But it was hot. A Mormon. Fooey. The clerk then asked me as she brought me stuff to try on, "What kind of underwear do you have on?" I think she expected the "garment," the name of the union suit thing they used to wear as underwear. My ego melted right along with my deodorant. Farts.

I did buy some new clothes. Size two. Chico's is a very weird store. We then went to Coldwater Creek. Also bought some stuff there in the bargain basement. We attempted to locate the third member of the trifecta as Kim calls them. If Jackson has a J. Jill we didn't find it. I was glad. By then I was suffering a severe case of cosmic dissonance. The only store I felt totally at home in was Pendelton. And it was way too hot for Pendelton. Mark sat in the Square (a park) and watched tourists. A good time was had by all. More on this marathon shopping spree tomorrow. If I have electricity.

Good to be back at the computer. Take care of yourselves. Love Bea.

Waiting

I am waiting for Friend Kim to arrive. Whole darn house is clean. At the same time. Yard is mowed and I am doing the last of the laundry. I even brushed the cats. Only thing I have not done is plan the meals....

I am paralyzed. Haven't grocery shopped or anything. Kim is bringing her Nutrisystems so she is not the problem. It's me. This Intuitive Eating is mixing me up. I am so accustomed to doing my food plan that any deviation sends me into binge land. Not whole cheese cake kind of binges but binges none the less. Scary. Very scary.

Andrea's post today helped. Me and my boundaries. This is apparently my life lesson. Build and maintain appropriate boundaries. I wish God would fix me all at once instead of this little by little stuff. I want to be the kind of woman who can stare down a desperate Sunday school coordinator, say a good firm "No," and walk away with out looking back. Or feeling guilty. Please God help me not to swear in front of a bunch of teenagers. Teenagers. Why oh why did I agree to do this? First the choir and now this. Send in the cheesecake.

Alright. I feel better now. I will do my food plan this week. When we go out I will not go nuts and will watch how Mark eats. I will eat like that. Help me God. Amen.

Planning hikes in both Teton and Yellowstone parks. That should burn off a few calories. Gad it is georgeous here. I love Wyoming.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea