I don't have anything to say really and I'm not sure why I'm even starting this blog. Being home sick with time on my hands lands in me in a rather bored state of life.
And speaking of life..... It's been busy lately. We've added a family member. We lost another. Work has become stressful. It is entirely possible however that my work stress is a figment of my own imagination which - on occasion - has landed me in a paranoid land of being..... my imagination, that is.I love my family but often feel as though they view me as an unwanted, unneeded, unnecessary annoyance. I try my best to lay low and not annoy, interfere, criticize or anything else which might land me in a state of disfavor. No matter what I say or do, I always feel that I've annoyed them somehow.
It also seems as though when I have an issue they - my family - do not want to hear it. For instance, someone I know is doing something illegal and it drive me NUTS. It's not that I would ever do anything to harm the person who is doing this BUT it would be nice to be able to vent to someone who would help plan this person's imagined demise with me. No, I wouldn't carry it out. It would just be fun to bring him down in an imaginary world. Instead I just get griped at.
Whatever. They also didn't want to hear it when I tried to tell them where the wills are, some of our basic wishes if we happen to both die, etc. Fine. Let them hunt for them if the time comes. I'll get the last laugh on that one.
I believe I'm also viewed as inadequate in many ways. I get the feeling my family thinks I can't handle much at all and that all I do is get angry. Yeah well....I wonder if it ever has occurred to them that they underestimate me.
For instance....
Yesterday my DH decided to drive four of us into an area not touched by snow plows. The snow was about a foot deep. It didn't occur to him to put it into 4-wheel drive BEFORE plowing into the white crap. So what does he do? He gets us STUCK. And yes, I got ...ummm... not mad... frustrated. Yeah, that's it. I was FRUSTRATED at being stuck in the snow. I hate snow. I was receiving visions of tow trucks and cold feet since we were all in dress clothes. No boots.
It occurred to me as I watched him that he had NO CLUE as to what he was doing with the 4 wheel drive. When he got out with intentions of pushing in his suit and tie and dress shoes I slid over into the drivers seat, told him that I did NOT need pushing assistance, and I then popped it into four wheel drive and easily removed us from the dilemma.
We had come from his father's funeral. He wanted to place some flowers from the service on his sister's grave which is located in a very small, very ill-maintained (in the winter) cemetery. He and one of our daughters then began the search for the grave.
We don't go there often so we knew the general location of her grave but not the exact location. Having the stones covered in snow made it difficult to locate her so as I drove slowly through the snow along side of hubby and daughter I heard him say "Where is she? She should be right here where we left her." ROFL
But this time my frustration had vanished so I helped by shouting out the window for her. Our wonderful daughter began brushing snow from stones and soon found her. Of coursed his dearly deceased sister was certainly muttering "losers" from beneath the sod. That was her favorite term of endearment while she lived.
After placing the flowers the two of them hopped into the car. He apparently didn't want back behind the wheel as he climbed into the passenger's side. Meanwhile the two young-ins were cracking up in the back. Guess they thought mom bailing dad's sorry behind out from the near clutches of a tow truck was pretty amusing. And it was. Amusing. Honest. Okay so I suppose this is one of those "you had to be there" scenarios.
As I headed toward the main road DH says, "Thank you Lord for this woman who can drive a vehicle through anything." And he then tells our grown children he's never been so turned on in all his life. Yes, he said that. Good grief. Who says something like that to his own children?
And once again, they called me Hill-Jack-Jane.
Again? Yes, again. I got that name when I chopped a little firewood as though that is some feat worthy of the name.
So anyhow, here I go a-blogging again. I'm not sure what the topic will be. I don't think I want a topic. I'd rather just let it go where it wants to go. Might be fun to see where it ends up.
