A few days ago I learned about a several hundred dollar plant stand for sale for only $50. I would need to drive over an hour to get it but it appeared to be well worth the trip and the 50 bucks. When I spoke with the woman, she was full of questions. How long had I been growing? How many violets did I have? I was perplexed, to say the least and a bit taken aback.
"The plant stand belonged to my mother and violets were her passion for over 50 years. She had over 400 when she died earlier this spring," was what the woman said. "I just want someone who loved them half as much as her to get her things."
That made sense to me.
I picked up the stand this morning. She asked me to take several things in addition to the plant stand and I made out like a bandit for only $50. It was not without other cost; however. I'll just say that when I got home, I washed myself, then washed everything item by item with Lysol and then diluted bleach. Apparently, since her mother's death, her father does nothing but sit in his chair and let their 8 dogs piss and crap all over the floor and that house was the filthiest place that I have ever been in in my entire life. The stench was so overwhelming that I kept my hand over my mouth and got in there and outta there as fast as I could. She was nice and she really loved how her mother loved these plants but she has no desire herself to do them. I wanted to tell her that she needs to hire someone to take care of her daddy. How could you let someone you love live like that? Perhaps she doesn't care what he does or how he lives. This place was so bad that it could qualify for health inspector to come and condemn it. I felt so dirty when I got in the truck to drive away and yet so thankful that I don't live like that nor know anyone close who does. It was very disturbing to see that kind of living environment. One thing's for sure - I will never think of my sister or my ex husband's house as the filthiest places I've ever been.
So.... I spent about 4 hours this afternoon washing and cleaning everything and getting it set up. I'm pleased with my new stand and am happy to share some pictures of what I now have. I am going to wait a few days and reserve judgment if the kitchen bay area is the place for the stand.
I now have room for the violets I have. I have room to grow my collection a bit more. I have light sufficient to grow for show.
I'm happy. (UGA won today too! :)
All for 50 bucks and a physical tour of a living toilet.
I couldn't fall asleep last night until after 1 AM. I was awoken at 4:48 by my bedside lamp tht kept flickering on and off. I was immediately startled because it was like someone flashing a flashlight on and off in my bedroom window and my body was so full of adrenaline that I couldn't go back to sleep after that.
Operating on less than 4 hours of sleep isn't too good for me, especially since I've been going nonstop all day. This week has been a fabulous week for me business wise but I need rest tonight and I'm hoping to be able to remain awake so I can hear Obama speak. I need him to wow me. I really need him to wow me. I just finished not only an appointment but my second glass of wine and I'm hoping that sleep will come easy. Maybe I can get MusicMan to help me along a bit.
Tomorrow is my day after lunch to write and dream and plan. I'm looking forward to the weekend and I've got several post formulating in my brain. I've got a few more installments to The Bouncer. Just to verify - do you want to continue reading those or are we to the stale point yet?
So the big questions tonight include, Can Obama Wow Me? How fast will I be able to fall asleep and will I get any help?
The new year started and I started back to school. Those first few weeks were wonderful. I was a happily married young woman who stayed on top of all her school work and felt like she was on top of the world. I was doing GREAT in school and hoped that the morning sickness would soon be getting better. We might have made love as often as we wanted and where we wanted but I really do not remember much about those first few weeks of being married. That's sad because that was probably our happiest times and I can't even recall it.
I was so sure that this was all going to work and my parents had been so mistaken to warn me off marrying The Bouncer. I was determined to show them that they had been wrong and that I had made a good choice for the father of my child(ren) and my husband. Sometime before the end of January, for reasons that I wasn't sure of at the time, we lost our lease to the apartment and The Bouncer announced that we were going to be moving in with his parents for a few weeks until we could get another place. I was so much in love and wanted to believe that he was my knight in shining armor that I never questioned anything. Those choices would bring many different unpleasant consequences and set a precedence that was not nurturing to me personally or emotionally.
I remember standing in our apartment while being instructed to pack as quick as I could. I felt betrayed but wasn't willing to admit it because in my mind, loving someone meant trusting them and trusting meant not questioning. This was so sick now that I look back but I bought the whole thing hook, line, and sinker. Even though, I kept thinking that this wasn't turning out like it was supposed to be. Not only did I not learn to listen to that small voice but I learned to silence her. What a shame. We packed the boxes into his father's pick up truck and I watched as he closed the door to what was supposed to be the place we were going to make into our home and where we would bring our newborn home to.
Living with his parents proved to be more challenging than informing my parents that I was pregnant and we were getting married. Being young and pregnant and in the middle of a house that is emotionally defunct does not make for a good mix. I wanted to be happy, I wanted to feel wonderful being pregnant and awaiting the birth of a baby that I so wanted. I can recall going back and forth to school talking to my baby that was growing inside me...I played all kinds of music for him, I sang to him, I talked about how much I loved his daddy (despite what others were saying) and I grew closer and closer to him every. single. day. This was my "escape" away from the hellhole that I was living in. I had never been exposed to hollering or such openly displayed anger or verbal abuse as this house seemed to thrive upon. My mother's way of dealing with something was to cry for days and be the victim and my father's way of dealing with his anger was to walk away and sulk in silence for a few days. I really can't remember a time in my life where I heard my parents in a shouting match. That doesn't mean they didn't do it - it just means that we weren't exposed to it. We also weren't exposed to healthy examples of ways to work things out with someone that we loved. I lived in a constant state of arousal (not the sexual kind) but the fight or flight kind living in that house. It had such negative energy and I kept hoping to just keep my head low and not cause a disturbance.
I don't remember the circumstances surrounding the incidence but I do remember it being sometime after the first of the year when my FIL openly called me a "wench" in front of several other people in the room. He made references to my round breast and the fullness of my growing belly. He said the I reminded him of a wench "who was good for nothing but fucking her master." I remember my head swimming and wondering if I had heard him right. No one spoke. He went right on and kept speaking as if his most recent words were similar to that of telling someone to grab a beer from the fridge and make themselves at home. I recall the room with its dark wood paneling, orange bicentennial furniture and massive wall unit where the TV and other grossly ugly knickknacks lived. I was immediately reduced to tears and my husband, who I believed would protect and love me, stood right there and didn't say a word. Not one word. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't defend me. More so, I couldn't understand why a man would say that about the wife of his son. I was going to have his grandchild and he was supposed to be nice to me. That sounds so naive to look at that sentence now. I was so unprepared for the life and dynamics of that disturbed family. Families just don't treat others like that. I cried for the rest of the evening and refused to come out of that tiny back bedroom in that tiny horrible house. They all laughed at me and called me "too sensitive" and wanted to laugh it all off to me being hormonal and pregnant. A few days later when I asked The Bouncer about why he let his father talk to me like that, he laughed and dismissed it as a joke. He wanted to know why I was holding on to that and still pouting about it. I felt the hole in my heart grow bigger.
The thing about that hole is that when the sides of that hole began to collapse, it took with it the remnants of clinging bricks and supports whose mortar had already been dissolved. So, it wasn't just the construction demolition of that single incident but it was the failure of structures that had already been weakened by secrets and realizations that would set out to destroy my spirit. That hole was just the beginning of 22 years of demolition. They say that the first cut is the deepest and whoever they is...they are right.
Because I wasn't ready or willing to face the reality staring me square in the face, I had to seek refuge and solace somewhere. I found it in my growing baby. I loved going to the OB visits. I was the center of attention there and looking back, realize that I was so totally clueless as to what was happening. I was so being groomed to be the most cooperative patient that this OB ever had. I was a self pay, without any insurance, yet every visit would bring another test to make sure the baby was ok. It was only after the birth that I realized how very poor of a choice I had made based on a simple recommendation and no investigation or base of knowledge when choosing someone to help me become a mother for the first time.
Every day I grew closer and closer to my unborn baby. I experienced all those feelings of emotions that women experience - wanting a son to present to my husband thinking that it would solidify feelings of commitment and adoration for giving him what he so wanted. I was constantly reminded that I wasn't really welcome in that home with his parents and let me tell you - living in an 800 sq. ft home with only one toilet and 4 adults - with one being a pregnant women - and a 5 year old little boy (another long story) isn't fun. I was still naive enough to think that everything would work out.
I tried to laugh and move beyond how miserable I was in that home. I kept asking when we were going to be able to move out into our own place. The Bouncer kept telling me that he "was saving" money so we could get something really nice for us and our baby. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I had no idea what kind of income he had from his job or what he was doing with his money. Learning the truth many years later would prove destructive to my soul and risk what mental solidity that I ever possessed.
I chose to focus on school and how wonderful I felt being pregnant now that the morning sickness had gone. The second trimester brought a sex drive for me that could not be satiated. I practically begged for physical affection and sometimes he would respond and oftimes he wouldn't. I learned quickly that the way to his erection was through lingerie. That was the only way that he would pay attention to me. So, doing what any good wife would do who wants to please her husband, I found a way to make him happy. I found a way to get what I wanted. Try being broke with no personal spending money of your own and trying to figure out how to purchase lingerie that you know nothing about and using it in a way that you don't have a clue doing. I was prime and ripe for the picking.
Sometime after Easter that spring, my belly was really beautiful and sort of getting in the way. I was still going to school and trying to stay clear of The FIL. I was desperate for physical affection and I don't know how he sensed what was going on - but he asked me one day if he could treat me to "a shopping trip" for some "things to please my husband and keep the spark in our marriage." I realize today that I led such a sheltered life and I didn't see what was coming. I feel so foolish when I think back to how manipulative that Bastard was in the way that he treated me with such disrespect. He continues to this day to be one of the sickest fucked up people that ever walked the face of the earth.
Yes, I took him up on his offer....because I didn't know what he had in mind.
We've had over 8 inches of rain in the past 24 hours. It's been a good, steady, soaking kind of rain. We are expecting about 4 to 6 more in the next 24 hours.
This is good, even if I am beginning to feel like a duck.
PS. I have worked on the next installment of The Bouncer; however, I have a huge presentation for my business tomorrow and right now, that takes precedence over anything else. When I secure this account that I'm working on, it will provide me enough business alone - to take me through the fall and feed my family/pay my bills. I know you all understand, right? :)
In the wee hours of this morning, at a home of a former associate and acquaintance, someone murdered him, his younger son and critically wounded his wife.
I served on a Board of Directors with this fine human being. He was a self made man who started from humble beginnings and remained true to his ethics and morals in the midst of a mangled world. I always admired his philanthropic behavior and attitude and how he ran a tight ship in his business simultaneously. Now he is gone.
This afternoon, his older son turned himself in as the shooter. Twenty 5 years ago, this older son dated the sister of the man that I thought I was going to marry but broke up with before I met The Bouncer. Small world, huh?
There are a lot of rumors. People always come out of the woodwork when something like this happens saying all kinds of stuff that they "knew" but never told. I suppose time will tell how much and of what truth any of it is. I think it would be wrong to repeat any of that here. The confessed shooter has a wife and small children. They may be the other casualties in all this mess.
No matter what the reason behind the murders, I can't imagine the trauma to this family and what would make someone crack like this. Please keep this family in your thoughts and prayers. Beyond that, keep the community and his church family in your prayers cause it leaves a huge hole.
Earlier news stories can be found here. People from our old communities are not fans of the media. They were very careful with the information when the explosion happened back in February. The media loves to make them all look stupid and now no one wants to cooperate with them.
Edited to add: The information about the other son turning himself in is premature. I must apologize for posting it thinking that it was accurate information. When I questioned the person that I trusted to be a reliable source - she said that she heard it from someone who wasn't the best source of accurate information. It still may be true; however, it has not been confirmed. I have learned a valuable lesson in this. I should have known better.
I am exhausted, both physically and mentally and I'm very concerned this morning because my throat is sore and the lymph nodes in my throat/neck are swollen to the size of marbles. In order to avoid that which happened a few days after the last time that I returned from Athens, and which took me more than seven weeks to get passed, I am taking it very easy today and pledge that I am not going to work more than 1 hour at this computer.
Yes, I did see The Bouncer - he was his usual self :::rolling eyes::: Yes, I was with both my older daughters - not a day for the record books, but not for the trash either Yes, I cried (a LOT) No, I was not pleased with the training that I conducted on Saturday (but not because of me) Yes, Biggest Sister's new apartment is nice. No, she is not moved in or totally unpacked yet. Yep, I heard that it's Joe Biden :::yawn::: Yes, (if I feel better) I will post the next installment of The Bouncer sometime tomorrow morning before lunch
This was one before I groomed her. The reason she needed to be groomed is because her stalk was crooked and the leaves on the outer rings are fading. They needed to go, along with the blooms, so that the energy and focus can be put into the healthy leaves and root system. I had to get down to the first 2 or 3 rows to restore the symmetry of the plant. She is already thanking me for helping her. I've had her for several years (perhaps more than 7) and she doesn't have an ID because she came from Home Depot violet stand and they don't name their Optimaras.
This is her once I finished: (it's ok, she will recover and grow to be more beautiful than ever.)
See the one on the right that looks like she is growing sideways? She was. I trimmed her root ball and then did surgery on her stalk and put the stalk back in the dirt straight. She will turn to the light within a few more days (this was taken on the 15th and she is already almost there) and her stalk will be completely straight in the soil.
The one in the solo cup directly behind her is called Irish Flirt - her leaves are crinkly on the edge and she has a beautiful miniature white bloom that looks like a tissue paper flower that we made in grade school.
Happy Sunday - I wonder how my real life, human children will behave in church today? I'll be worshiping with a congregation saying goodbye to their pastor upon her retirement. That church has been an active congregation since 1736. That's a LOT of people that have come and go.
My apologies to those who came here today expecting the next installment of The Bouncer.
I am training new consultants this weekend in Athens on Saturday and spending the weekend with Biggest Sister. I wrote this post on Thursday evening. Once I complete the training, we plan to journey together to south Georgia for a former Pastor's last Sunday before her retirement. I feel like I really need to be careful with myself for the next few days. I'm going back to a place that holds a tremendous amount of emotional value and history where I lived and worshiped for over 10 years. It's where everything was wonderful....and then everything turned sour and went to hell in a hand basket. I can't manage any more emotional journeys for a few days so I ask you to be patient with me. I need to say goodbye to a woman who helped me heal so much within myself and was by far, the best pastor that I've ever experienced. Not only was she called but she was chosen....and she answered. She officiated at the wedding of MusicMan and I and I want to be part of that last Sunday and celebration of her ministry. One simply can't be in the midst of all that emotion and activity and not be changed somehow. I hope to keep the good times of the past as the focus and try to keep the bad times where they belong - in the past.
Biggest Sister will be there and perhaps more importantly - Big Sister will be with me too.
My biggest heart's desire - to be with the two people who are the most wonderful result of what The Bouncer and I shared. All the love and goodness rolled and packed into two people that I adore beyond words. I will probably see The Bouncer too. I wonder how that will be with me having spent so much time this past week or so thinking and writing of such loving and memorable times that we shared. I'll try not to think of pink lacy garters when I see him....and I'll ask you to keep your fingers crossed that he will be civil so I don't have to be disturbed when I return and try to write more chapters of the first year of our marriage.
This is going to be what I hope will be a fabulous and memorable weekend for many people....especially me and my two oldest daughters.
As a teaser, and perhaps a way to brag a bit, I'll share my violets with you. Really, I'm just sharing a few - I have over 70 now.
This is Mrs. Charita. She reminds me of an elegant lady. She's a gift from a very dear friend who shares the same passion for this hobby obsession. My violets bring me so much pleasure - and they have nothing to do with being a wife, a mother or a business owner. They just have to do with me being me and loving the pleasure and joy I get from tending to them each day or week and watching them bloom and grow.
The above photo is of one of the tables in my den. I have about 4 times this amount in violets. Some are Standards that have just been re-potted and groomed and many are minis and semi minis. All of my babies love this window. I am working to save enough money to purchase a multiple shelf unit where I can hang a special light so that I can prep some to enter in the fair this fall. By having a multiple shelf unit, they can all stay in this window that they love.
Have a GREAT weekend and do something that brings you lots of pleasure.