Life Forensics:


 


Because the unexamined
life is not worth living

  July 24, 2007

How odd everything feels!

It's odd to me that I have not been able to find the time to write in my journal since July 11, almost 2 weeks. 

It's odd to me that I feel as though I have been in constant motion ever since I last wrote and only just now are things showing the prospect of slowing down.

It's odd to me that I have been back from my trip for over a week and have barely written a single word about it.

It's odd to me that I have memories of a wonderful trip to the GHFCW and photos to support those memories, yet it feels as though I never left.

I guess I'm right on track because my horoscope for today says:

Although you are often very capable of carefully adjusting your reality in order to make it even better, something may be out of whack today. It's more difficult to maintain your focus on the most crucial things; it's as if the controls have been placed out of reach and you have to make it through the day without your usual sharp perceptions. Instead of struggling to find reality, let your imagination teach you what logic cannot.

I prefer www.tarot.com for daily horoscopes and they are dead on more often than not and will email them out to you every day. 

So I guess I'll just hang here in my odd place; my nonreality.

The complications continued, but that did not keep me from having a good time.  Sure, the Mormons paid up (God bless those Mormons), but Eric's bank put a 10 day hold on the check, so he really doesn't get the money until tomorrow.  He was able to beg and squeal and give puppy dog eyes to cajole them into giving up enough of the check to pay the mortgage, so that was good.

There were a few other financial glitches along the way, but overall, I was able to do all I wanted to do and had a really excellent time. I have to say, this was by far the best GH Fan Club Weekend I've ever attended, bar none.  A number of factors came together to make it just kissed by the angels.  The only thing I would have changed (which I couldn't) is I would have left out the next day and taken the rest of Sunday to rest up before coming home because I had to hit the ground running on Monday.

The flight home was an absolute bitch.  We got to the airport really early.  Our flight was due to leave out at 9:30pm, but she got there around 7pm because Delena was antsy.  The flight ended up taking off over an hour late, so we were at the airport forever and ever.  Because the flight was so delayed, they ended up moving us to another gate where another delayed flight full of people was already hanging out, so there were no seats and my back was killing me from standing all weekend, so I guess that ended up being the only truly challenging part.

We got to the house around 1am and were all so exhausted we could barely move the next day.

I have been doing the mail almost ever since I got back.  Eric had taken to giving me most days off before I left, but this time, he had to get ready to complete stage 2 of the Mormon job and could only do the Somerset route, which left Grizzly for me.  I didn't realize how spoiled I'd gotten on not doing the mail until I was back to doing it again.

Since then, I don't feel like I've had 2 minutes to sit down and when I do, it's to post other people's work or do site maintenance.  The bare bones is all I have been able to accomplish, so off topic things tend to take a back seat while the real work is done.

Poor Sage's site fell apart and I helped him out a bit on the repair. It seems to be running well now.

Today is the first day that I have felt anything close to being caught up.  I spent 2.5 hours helping the boys clean out their shithole room yesterday.  I still don't understand the thing all three of my kids do where they jam their dirty clothes behind dressers and in boxes with other things and, of all things, back into their clean clothes again.  I pulled out a full load of hidden filthy clothes from their room last night.  It's not as though they have to struggle to find a place to put them. There is always a clothes basket right in their room that is specifically for dirty clothes and *I* am the one who does their laundry, so it is a mystery as to why it is under their bed and behind their dresser and desk or in the toy box. 

That being done, the last load of laundry is in the dryer as we speak and I will have clean clothes in everyone's closet by the end of today.  The house isn't terrible and can be gotten to a pretty nice place with about an hour of basic cleaning.

I don't have to do anything outside of the house other than a quick mail run until Friday, when (get this) I have to do ALL of the mail, Somerset and Grizzly Flats.  I am a little nervous about this since A) I've never done it before and B) He has about 4 times as many mailboxes as I have, meaning I'll be doing about 5 times as many boxes as usual and C) I'm not very familiar with his route.

I have a babysitting issue or a vehicle issue attached to this situation, depending on how you look at it.  Either I have to find someone to watch the boys while I do the mail delivery since the mail jeep is a 1 person ride or I have to find a vehicle to use (Eric will have my jeep) that can fit the mail and the boys. 

Other than that, I am without dilemma for the rest of the week to my knowledge and that is a good place to be.

The only thing I have planned for the coming weekend is Burger Night on Friday night and then a birthday party on Saturday.  With any luck, I can keep the days open and uncluttered.

GFORCE has finished bingo for the summer and will resume again in October.  We went out in a bang in a couple of ways, at least for me, personally.

Since we started bingo in...I want to say January...we have a tradition where we have a cute ceramic cookie jar in the shape of a bear on the table where the bingo paper cards are purchased.  Most people want to win the cookie jar itself because it's so precious.  When you buy your cards, you can put a dollar in the cookie jar and have your hand stamped.  At the beginning of the night's games, we pick a number out of the hopper and if you bingo on that number any time the rest of the night, you win the money that's in the cookie jar.  If no one wins, it rolls over to the next month. 

Over several months, it had built up to a whopping $63 in ones and we'd made change out of it and such so that when I pulled it down to take it out of the box for this month, there were a couple of twenties, a couple of fives, a ten and a few ones in it.  I counted the money, noted the denominations in my head and put it on the table as I was setting up.

On about game #2, I went out to the table and checked the cookie jar so I could announce to people how much it's worth now.  We have people coming in late and buying cards through the first couple of games, so we tend to wait a bit.  When I checked it, had $43 in it. 

?!

It was light by a twenty and a five.  I called in the people who had been working the table (meaning nearly all of GFORCE) and asked if anyone had made change from the cookie jar and maybe not put the money back in from the cash box or something.

Nope.

Then Robin, the K-2 teacher and principal of our school said, "But Nathan's hands were sure in the cookie jar and he was going on about how much money was in there."  Nathan, for those of you who do not know (and all of you SHOULD know) is my son who will be 8 in September, is completely money obsessed for reasons we cannot fathom since he gets almost everything he wants anyway, and just graduated out of Robin's class and will start Tanis' class (3-5) in just under 3 weeks.

?!

"Where's the phone?"

I called up Eric and told him to pat down Nathan and explained what had happened and he said he didn't have to because Nathan had just come to him showing him his money.

...Of which he only had a couple of dollars the day before.

So Eric grounded him off of having any allowance whatsoever until January 1st and I pulled money out of my purse, which I had by some miracle, and all was well.

I talked to Nathan about it the next morning, and I swear to you, the kid is clueless.  He has no idea why what he did was wrong.  When I asked him about it, he said, "So who exactly does the money belong to."  I told him it belongs to GFORCE and we keep it there in case someone wins it.  He countered with, "So when I took it, it didn't belong to anyone, right?"  "No, it belonged to GFORCE."  "But not a person, right?" ...and we went around and around about that for a while.  "If you found $20 in my purse, would you take it?"  "Of course not, because it belongs to you."  "If you found $20 in the school's kitchen on the counter, would you take it?"  "No, because it would be someone's lunch money that they lost."  Then he asks me, "If you found $20 on the sidewalk and no one was around, would you take it?"  

He wasn't making it easy for me.

I left him with the notion of, "You had one vital piece of information and that is that the money was not yours.  Whoever it belonged to, it wasn't yours."

He still doesn't get it.  He feels he's being unjustly punished.  By the time we were finished, I wasn't even sure I got it any more.

Plus for the first time in Grizzly Flats' bingo history, someone won the cookie jar that night...on the very last number called of the night.

Then the guy who won it donated $20 of it back to the school.

...probably my $20.

Life is weird.

Nothing else is coming, so apparently, I'm done.

Be Particular,
 

Name: Katrina Rasbold
Location: Grizzly Flats, California

I am a happily married broad of a particular age who lives in a rural mountain community on the edge of the El Dorado National Forest.  Grizzly Flats was once a thriving mining town (think "Deadwood"), but is now a quiet, remote town with a few hundred year-round residents and several city folks with a country home up here where they come to rough it a few times a year.  No more saloons or hotels or livery stables, just an unmanned fire station, a 2 room schoolhouse, a ranger station and a post office. 

It's heaven.

I am a writer and webmaster.  I am also a rural route mail carrier and a student of life and the world around us. 

I deeply honor all religions and whatever (harming none) path others use to reach God and their most sacred selves.  I completely reject the premise that there is one path/ one religion that "fits all" and is the "right" one.  Just as people speak in different languages to one another, I believe God also speaks to us in different languages.  God knows us well enough to understand that our spirits vibrate on different levels and must be accessed in different ways with different words and practices. 

Mike Rowe ("Dirty Jobs"):  "Are you a religious man?"

Septic Tank Cleaner:  "No, but I am a spiritual man."