Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Opportunity Knocks....

... I think. I think so.

I had my assessment at work today. Long overdue. Got a small raise (thank you). And was offered a different position in the company, which months ago I had coveted, but was not allowed as I hadnt the computer skills and there wasnt a place for me. At that time I had covered another employee who was ion holiday for two weeks and I loved it so much upstairs that I had asked to be transferred. But it didnt happen...Turns out things are shifting now, months later, as a result of my hard work learning how to use the computer (I hate PC's) and the departure of the former furniture buyer/manager.

I was praised today for my creativity and for how far I've come since I started. That was nice.

Did I mention that a few weeks ago I told management I needed to cut my hours, at least for the summer? Well I did.

Today I told the company that I would think about it (quickly) and let them know. I told them that I, quite frankly, couldnt afford to work there full time or even four days a week, but I really LOVE my job there, and I love the company. Which I do. So I thought about it...for about a nanosecond. Though I wanted to give myself some space and to talk to B about it (He's all for it) and to let them, well, really WANT me. I know already. I'll take it. My raise isnt contingent on me taking this new position, but moving UP is, and I know that. This is an offer to at the least have a chance of moving forward there.

Down the road I will hopefully have the possibility (assuming all goes well) to become a buyer - as had been promised me when I started- however, that plan fell through when the combination of characters involved didnt 'gel'... as in I found myself in a nest of viperous bitches, none of whom wanted to relinquish their petty control and train me, so that I was left rudderless and swinging in the wind, utterly insecure.... but most of whom I liked well enough, it has to be said, each on their own. The combination of people, and their brand of clique-ism, and negativity was deadly for me. I had to get out.

So I've been cultivating my skills meanwhile, and charming our clients, and generally making everyone happy.

I have a good feeling about this. I will be surrounded by beautiful things. The job will involve sales, some interior design elements and the usual...Freight. But that's ok. And I like the main person I'll be working with. She's 'animal people'.

So, we have options. And life moves forward. Tune in next time. Same Bat time, same Bat channel.

(Did I tell you that New Life in the house would bring new energies and new options? That Life/The Universe would respond and so would I? Huh. When I'm right I'm right!)

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Pitter Patter....



















I went to visit the kittens today. Purr machines! We've tentatively settled on names for them. Basil and Jasmin. Friends of mine have adopted the little charcoal kit and she is called Lola.

Baz and Jazzie. They'll come home at the end of next week.

*sigh*

:)

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Please tell me I'm not a Fool, or Some Kind of Idiot.....


THIS is what made my heart go "Aaaah!" Gods, can you handle the cuteness? Its too soon to tell, but I think brother might be a 'Bullseye' Ginger, which is rare. It means he doesnt have the usual striping but has round, circular markings. Sister is So lovely and gentle, with a white belly and reminds me of Xena, with her black and orange brindle markings. Aren't they gorgeous?

This is what is making me happy, what is getting me excited about having new life in the house, new energy, and new creativity. THIS is what is getting me engaged in the process of creating and being here NOW in life, inspiring me and helping me shake off the last dregs of the winter, down-dragging blues.

I made a whole entirely new raised bed in the garden today, near the studio and close to where the gate will go eventually, and ringed it with stones in an almost spiral; sort of a circle which went inwards and then flared at the edge. That makes no sense of course but no matter because the point is that each stone was dug out by me, by HAND from the sand-box/gravel pit that pretends to be soil on this acre which is slowly but surely becoming beautiful. The reason for the new raised bed was to honour Muriel's potted plants, which have been languishing for two years, waiting to find a proper home where they can put down their roots. So I planted B's mum's two shrubberies, along with loads of other plants which I transplanted from here and there. It looks gorgeous. I'm stoked. I'm sure Muriel is pleased (even though I accidentally broke a piece off one of her her Christmas cactus plants the other week... Sorry M...)

I'm off the couch, feeling SO much better. Spent the whole day outside and am feeling really positive. Got a bit of sun on my face. I worked like a maniac and couldnt believe how much I got done. With all the digging and getting wheel barrows of dirt from the meadow below the woods, I did something weird to my Sacro Illiac, but I dont care! Its like I feel a new infusion of "YES, lets GO!" flowing through me. And it felt truly like Spring has not only arrived, but has had a fanfare of trumpets, with feather boas and sequined ta-ta's, to announce "Hello everybody, I'm AT the PARTY!"

I dont know why this is so important to me. It is symbolic maybe. Another Mother's Day has past without babies of my own body. This time of year, 18 years ago, I lost one of my 3 pregnancies.... This is an anniversary. Its a letting go and a way to be okay with that. This is a surrogate, for sure. And also here's a way to expand Life, caring, nurturing. Symbolic of me reconnecting with giving myself what I want and need, which I havent done for so, So long....I used to be so adamant about what I wanted. I've become a blanc-mange; but now things are shifting back to how they were, or even into something new, something better, at last. It feels really good.

B came with me to visit the 'twins' today. Their eyes have turned from blue to green in the last two days, which tells us they are about 6 weeks old. His comment: "Yup, they are really cute" was a bit quiet, but remember that he now has my cold, which I of course have got rid of. Hoping his enthusiasm levels will rise as the 'due date' gets closer. He is not very 'animated ' in general these days which I can well understand (who can blame him?) and have compassion for because I BLOODY WELL know how it feels ( for the last two plus months!)

Anyway, back to the kits. They have to gain some weight before they can be spayed and neutered. The local SPCA no longer lets any animal out of their care before they've been fixed, which I think is a good thing. They have to wait until the kits are at least 2 lbs before they will be strong enough to undergo surgery. So it will be a number of weeks yet before they come home. Did I mention that already? Oh probably. I'm so thrilled I'm babbling and repeating myself.

So today was a very good one.....

Until I spoke to my brother.

So, if you please, if you can, answer me this:

Why? WHY?!

Why do I always fall into the same trap of my own making? Why do I always attempt, despite the evidence and years of experience to trust my brother and tell him anything about my life, as though he might inquire about how I am, what's going on, why I am where I am and is that ok, or make some positive statement of any kind whatsoever? At. All.

I talked to him on the phone and told him about the kittens, though to be absolutely truthful I only actually mentioned one kitten, intuitively trying to protect myself from his reaction; trying to lessen the load which I sensed was going to come down on me. Intuitively knowing that to tell him would be a mistake...and I did it anyway, more fool me, ( MORE FOOL ME!) Wanting for him to be a part of our happy news news. Wanting him to hear joyfulness in my voice and share it and ...approve. (Why do I need his approval!?) Wanting him to ask if I missed Tashy, and do I feel that it must take two cats to fill the hole in my heart that she left when she went, BIG in my heart as she was. Or laugh and say, "you're mad" or, "you should have been born a farmer", or, "Yegads, I hope you got that vacuum cleaner replaced". Wanting him to be happy for me. Wanting him to understand that I cant fill my house with the pitter- patter of tiny feet other than the four footed kind, and wanting him to fucking GET THAT...Wanting him to know that I need this, and why. I so want him to understand who I am, but he doesnt, or wont. He doesnt want to. Doesnt care to. I just want him to be part of my life as it is, and be .... a part of my life. But he just doesnt want to....

Instead, no surprise, he levelled both barrels at me and let me have it, straight on and head on. So much judgement. So mean. So much criticism. I should have known. I did know.... Of course I knew but I tried anyway.

I was so hurt. I let him rant and then quietly said I had to go. Said goodbye, and rang off. Then I got a vicious, utterly brutal and completely rancid email from him telling me, among other things, that 'normal people' dont require so many pets, that 'normal people' might consider our number of animals 'adequate'. "That 'normal people' might find the the number of pets over the top, and suggested that the pet hair and dander might make 'normal people' not want to come to our house (well the hell with them, then, Goddammit!). That I've been sick so much lately because of my pets (?!?!) That I'm defensive and then (O.M.G!) he asked me if I'm bored with my other pets.... Jesus! Can you believe that? Oh sure, ask your friend next time she's on her second, or third, or whatever pregnancy... "Why are you having another...are you BORED with the first?" Please put on your 3-d glasses on right now and watch her rip your throat out in striking technicolour. Then, THEN, he said he was entitled to his opinion (huh, not wrong there, but I'm likewise entitled to mine) and accused me of hanging up on him. Hello! HELLO!!! I said I had to go. I SAID GOODBYE... in a polite voice even.

I'm gutted. Why dont I ever learn? Why do I bother? Why do I invite him in and let him HURT me. Again and again. It never changes....

He's been really very not nice to me... a lot, in my life. He's been the apple of my eye since he was born and he has resented me, hated me, humiliated me, rejected me, judged me, treated me like absolute shite, and befriended the very people (most certainly 'normal people') who have trampled over me and abused me....Why do I try to engage, and bother to share what's happening for me, what's important to me, what is really good and exciting in my life? Why do I want him to CARE?!

Probably because I'm not a 'normal person'.

More fool me. I should know better.

Fuck him.

These babies.... They are my Mother's Day present, thank you. Thank you very much. If you dont understand that, cant understand that....

Monday, May 14, 2007

Raining Dogs and Kittens...

This time I've completely lost my mind. Having heard, late last week that the local SPCA just took in two tiny kittens, I called, went by to get an application form, picked up two donation tins for the store tills, saw the babies, fell in love, had an argument with B who thinks two is excessive (and he's right) but I fell in love in the way I did with Zeus. In a weird, not being able to sleep, obsessing about it kind of way. I'm not sure that is healthy... Today I went by again to drop off the form and now there are three. Obviously I'm not that cracked up, but now I'm wracked with doubt about taking two.

My gods they are cute. It was the dark tortoise-shell, with the strawberry blond eyelashes who spoke to me, as her orange fuzz-ball brother was snoozing and I didnt want to wake him when I first saw them. Today they were all three awake and bopping around, using their liter box (good babies!) and generally being devastatingly adorable, even if they all needed a bath. I stroked and held each one. Little Ginger boy was the most affectionate, purring like a machine, his soot coloured sister the most aggressive and bold, and little turtle was gentle, soft and curious. She likes having her head rubbed in exactly the same way Tashy did. Their eyes are still blue. It will be a few weeks before they can come home.

What to do?

I've been depressed. I've been sick for a long time, not genuinely sick as in something to really be worried about but just ill off and on which has made me depressed. Am I looking for comfort to fill a hole in my life? I mean, seriously, who really needs 8 pets?

And yet the other side of the coin, as I try to sift through my feelings with a fine tooth laser is that I've been feeling less and less grief about not having children. I think I've let go. I'm in a place of acceptance. Or so I thought. Is this sudden desire to expand the menagerie a way of dealing with that? On the other other hand I feel a rightness when I feel into these kittens, and I can see them here, feel them here already. My doubt may spring from another financial commitment I am taking on for the next, potentially, two decades, but I am mindful of how small my world has become. How I dont expand. How I dont give myself what I need, and maybe, just maybe its time to do that. I havent had a baby in the house since Zeus was a puppy and that was 7 years ago. Old Tashy was the last time I had a tiny kitten.

I guess I do need a baby after all. What matter if he/she/they are four footed!

In other domestic news, B went off island and exchanged the super-duper vacuum cleaner. Lets hope this one works. We're going to need it!

Go on, comment! Tell me just how crazy I am.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

What to do With the Problem Child.....?

Last night Teddy bit me. Quite hard, and I sustained a deep puncture wound, and some bruising on the inside of my left wrist.

You wont know this because my other long lamented blog went the way of the dodo bird some time ago, but Tashy's story was on there. My much beloved and ancient 19 1/2 year old cat who was dying of renal failure, 2 years ago now, and not having any fun anymore, had soiled herself, as old people sometimes do. Well I cleaned up my grandmother too, when she needed it at the end, and I cleaned up Tashy-cat, but lordy she hated water. And she was frail, so she must have been uncomfortable as I held her and slowly poured warm water over her, trying to be as gentle as I could. Well she bit me. More to the point, she bit my thumb clear to the bone, and by the morning I knew something was very wrong, so I went to the hospital and was told to go straight onto an antibiotic IV. Inconvenient timing, I told the locum on call, which he responded to by telling me I could go and make a big family dinner, or stay here and keep my arm. The blood poisoning tell-tale red line was well past my elbow at that point. My mother always said that once the line reaches the shoulder, you're dead. So I did the sensible thing and followed Dr.'s orders, and went in every 8 hours for 2 and a 1/2 days for my IV drip. And I'm still here. But you understand that animal bits are something I no longer take in stride with a cavalier attitude, yes? Especially when the outcome was that a few weeks later, I had to make the terrible decision to release Tashy from this mortal coil, which wasnt doing her any good anymore, but which cost me a piece of my heart.

Teddy and I were having a snuggle, and suddenly he growled. Well I'm of the opinion that their teeth are bigger than mine, so they need to know who the leader is at all times, so I got up, took his collar, and said, "Come on T-T, you're going outside for a while". He struggled. This is again uncharacterisic of him, and I pulled harder, very firmly, and then he rounded on me and bit my wrist. HARD.

It bled some. That deep scary black red blood that takes a moment to well up. The kind that tells you: This is deep. I'm still finding blood on the floor, and the location of the bite worried me and set me to thinking that he might have nicked a vein. We went forthwith to the Hospital, me voicing murderous epitaths and striking the fear of God into B, who literally thought he'd have to take Teddy to his father's farm in the morning and shoot him. It was a touch and go thing for a while there.

It was my fault. I know he gets the creeps at night. I was aware of it, and aware that he needs to be handled softly, no matter how rude he is (and he was VERY rude), or I am just teaching him to be afraid of me. The thing is, I'd never tolerate that behaviour with one of my own dogs, and I never get that behaviour either, and I got angry. I was so angry in the car I had decided we had to put that stupid dog down. Our tenant has a child, for goodness sakes. Yet as far as I know he's only ever bitten me. What does that tell you? I must be a horrible person. After all I've done for him, does he hate me, the little shit!?

I've been crying about it off and on all day. I dont trust this animal anymore. I feel abused - as he probably did in that moment. We dont know what gives him the creeps at night, only that maybe B's mother hurt him...when she was drunk. She was drunk a lot. Most of the time, actually.

T has taken a lot of love, patience, and gentle work to get over many of his issues. He's had more of my attention that my own dogs, Xena and Zeus, or B's other dog Willy. We spoil him, coddle him (enable Him?) and it has to stop now. He's been demoted to the bottom of the pack now, and I dont know what to do with this problem child.

Nor do I know what to do with me. When T-T arrived, we thought he was autistic. Seriously. And he'd been traumatised by being in a kennel. He couldnt be left alone so I'd have to take him to work with me. I painted houses at that time. Once he saw me leave around the corner of the house and he literally crawled out of the window where I'd left a 5 inch gap. He was still skin and bones then but know this, he's a very powerful and big dog. The next time, with windows less open and car in the shade, I left his sight, he literally shredded each door panel of my car to bits and pieces.

I've been so proud of our progress, of the happiness I see shining out of his eyes at last, of his willingness and responsiveness. He's happy to stay at home with his siblings now and doesnt worry that we wont be back, because he know we will and he'll get to go run outside with his housemates when we do. He is part of the pack and they all adore him. Finally he is showing His huge intelligence, his acute sensitivity, and his shy affection. It beautiful to watch him open up finally and let us in. To see how happy he is to see us, and the way I feel honoured when he shows his desire to be close, which is rare and usually on his terms. To see him join in the pack and run with them like the wind....its been a long haul, but has been a gorgeous thing to see his healing. This is his home now. And it is a good one. And one sees that he accepts that and knows it, and loves it back.....

Akitas bond with one person, and when that person is gone, they have trouble bonding and may never bond to another human again. Luckily he knew Willy and B since he was a pup, so they were/are the bridge for him to be able to bond again. We took him. When Muriel died. We took him because B's last promise to his dying mother mother was: "I'll take care of Teddy, Mum. Dont worry." Who can argue with that?

On the one hand I feel that the responsible thing to do would be to book some time with a dog trainer (I'll go with a new one. One I know of who has a very soft approach to her technique, and who has even worked with animal communicators, which is somthing I've considered with this wayward son). On the other hand, I feel like I've paid my damned dues with this dog, thank you Muriel, I've spoiled him rotten, even COOK for him and I am disinclined, now, to give him anything more. Not if he's going to bite the hand that feeds him. Yet he's the foster child with a sad childhood, and big issues. You dont give up on that. And Yet still, I feel I've done my best and he's still blocking me out....Maybe I'm the problem child....

I show him my bandaged arm and he looks away, lies down. He knows. He comes to sit by me and I tell him 'Off!" I dont want him near me right now. My arm throbs when I look at him. It isnt business as usual. How does a human tell an animal they're sorry? How does a human, who goes by the book when it comes to dog training (I'm considered very good) not find it in herself to actually LISTEN to the individual needs of that animal, allow intuition to provide information, and run instead rough shod over his old emotional hurts. How is it that my inborn skills with animal behaviour and psychology, with dogs, have made me blind to approaching him as HE needs to be approached. Is it my arrogance?

How does an animal say sorry? Business as usual? I dont know. I only hope that in that moment he must have been frightened for his safety, or he wouldnt have done it. I wasnt THAT hard with him. I saw him panic, I actually did, and I didnt listen to him. I should have released him, but I wanted the dog to obey me. He needed me to listen to his fear (Of me, of something triggering the past, of his night time creeps?) and change tactics to jolly him into doing what I wanted in a soft way. I needed him to smarten up and listen to ME.

Maybe I failed this one.I got it wrong.

What the hell did B's mother Do to him?!!!

In related news, they put me on yet another course of anti-biotics at the hospital. I went to my GP (Dr. Wonderful) today to confirm meds with him and he said all the right things, and said I'd done all the right things, but if my sinuses dont clear up in a week or so, he wants me to have them x-rayed.

Is that like having my head examined? Would probably be a good thing. Who in their right mind even has four dogs? Maybe they'll see, written in impacted and multihued snot, "crazy woman, too many dogs, off with her head!" Huh.

I'm feeling very wobbly now. Sad, embarassed. Remorseful, angry, vulnerable. Feel weepy still. I cried in the car today. I havent cried since last fall when we got robbed, and I told my mother about it. I am Tired. Very, Very tired.

If anyone has any to spare, I could use some good thoughts sent my way right about now.....Please and thank you....

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Domestic Demons from Hell

A few posts ago I was waxing lyrical about the vacuum cleaner I had planned to buy. Signed, sealed and delivered, it lasted 20 minutes before something died. Lovely. $300.00 (including ferry costs to get off the Island) and the damned thing had to be emptied rather a lot, and then the carpet spinning brush thingy choked. And so did I.

Mercifully, it still had great suction, which allowed me to attach one of the spiffy attachments for bare floors and also to deal with the frighteneing great billows of cobwebs. BUT NOT THE CARPETS. No. The main place where dog hair sticks and builds up...

After some investigation (really, this machine is completely disassemleable -not a real word, I know, but so what - and all the parts are totally washable. Very cool.) I discovered the belt had broken. Strange.... I had envisioned the building of a solid and long term relationship here, and this gave me pause. But I'm trying hard to be positive about all things. So I gave it the benefit of the doubt.

All sweetness and Light, I called (long distance) to the retailer and told them my dilemma, telling them that the belt had snapped after 20 minutes use. I suggested that they send me two as a courtesy, but only one arrived in the mail today.

Very excited, I swivelled locks and clicked bits apart, and put the belt on. Clicked, swivveled, put everything back together, Voila! simple as pie. Turn it on. Suction but no spin.

Give me strength. I'll have to go off Island again (another Ferry fee) and exchange it.

Is this a conspiracy?