I woke to sunshine today...
by the time I got the VOD ready to go out
it was rainin...
so I decided to read a book
and listen to some tunes
Music plays such a huge roll in our lives...
whether we recognize it or not....
what would you say your all time favorite top 5 music albums were? -
not just for a tune er two...
but the full album...
mine would be the following....
but I think that the order they occur in may change from time to time...
I have had all of these albums for long enough
that I've had em in LP (when available) cassette, CD and now mp3
and I just don't get tired of them!
10. Melissa Etheridge - Melissa Etheridge
9. Enya - Watermark
8. Stevie Wonder - Innervisions
7. Moody Blues - Days of Future Passed
6. Nigel Kennedy - Vivaldi
5. Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon
4. Stevie Ray Vaughn - Instep
3. Sarah McLaughlin - Stumbling Towards Ecstasy
2. Dire Straits - Brothers in Arms
1. Enigma - MCMXC A.D.
there's also a huge assortment of eclectic stuff that has, (that is stuff that's outta the "norm" for my age group) over the years..."honked my horn"
like: John Lee Hooker, Tori Amos, Jesse Cook, Gypsy Kings, Stan Rogers, Leahy, Molly Johnson, Remy Shand, Sade, Eryka Badu, Lauryn Hill, Nina Simone, Billie Holliday, America, Rod McKuen, Lenny Breau....etc etc etc
drop me a line in my comments...
see if you can tell me what your top fav's are...
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Must be the season....
I spent the whole day today
fighting the urge to cry
right from the moment
I got out of bed
I wanted to weep
yet somehow
couldn't allow myself to
we had an employee satisfaction survey
to fill out today
and the nutcase boss
advised us how to answer
that's ethical
not!
I've come to realize
that without further education
I'm not going to get any further in that place
no matter
how smart
or savy
or skilled I am....
which means that I've got
2 more years of work
before I completely come to a stand still
in the paygrade area
after that...I just stagnate
for ever and ever...
and yet
while it would be the perfect place
to educate myself
because it is specifically designed
to facilitate education
while holding down a full time job
and I could do it for half price
I'm stymied
I'm stymied because
I can't make a decision
as to direction
Project Management?
Human Resources?
official basket weaver?
and I'm stymied
because I know
without question
that my health
would not stand
for me to add
approx 15 to 20 hours a week
to my current workload
over the time it would take
to complete
so
I'd end up with an education
and be at death's door
I've been fighting with
this here computer
for a while now
for some reason
about 3000 of my mp3's
have decided
that they won't play anymore
and no amount of trying
to back date this machine
to when they were working
seems to make a difference
once again
I'm a prime example
of a little bit of knowledge
being a dangerous thing
and mostly I'm just really tired
of being frustrated with the damn thing
I bought a car
while I was off on holidays
and while the payments
are as low as one can get
I'm still concerned about finances
and gawd knows
I can unrealistically worry about money
and I'm allergic
to the chemical "new" car smell
so it's made me sick
but it could be something else
cos about have the "institution of higher learning"
is out with some kind of death defying galloping crud
that is laying healthy people out
flat on their backs
for 2 or 3 weeks at time
I'm scared I'm gonna get it too
taking last week off
found me coming back to work
having to make up
10 days of work
in 4 days
with little or no consideration
from the nut case
my two friends
that are leaving us....
actually left the Island today
and while I know in reality
they are only a phone call away
I'm sadder than sad
about the idea
that I can't just slip an hour up the road
for coffee
although I can count the number of times
I did that
on one hand
it's just the knowing
that I could have
had I wanted
that made me feel secure
all of this is topped off
by finding myself
sitting in front of the tube
this evening
watching "Out of Africa"
and crying like a baby
seems to me
that there's gotta be
a break in the grey
that my life has become
sometime soon
before it's too late
must be time to get the crochet hook out
I feel an urge
to
crochet my way
to mental health once again
coming on
sad days
sad nights
call for sad music
fighting the urge to cry
right from the moment
I got out of bed
I wanted to weep
yet somehow
couldn't allow myself to
we had an employee satisfaction survey
to fill out today
and the nutcase boss
advised us how to answer
that's ethical
not!
I've come to realize
that without further education
I'm not going to get any further in that place
no matter
how smart
or savy
or skilled I am....
which means that I've got
2 more years of work
before I completely come to a stand still
in the paygrade area
after that...I just stagnate
for ever and ever...
and yet
while it would be the perfect place
to educate myself
because it is specifically designed
to facilitate education
while holding down a full time job
and I could do it for half price
I'm stymied
I'm stymied because
I can't make a decision
as to direction
Project Management?
Human Resources?
official basket weaver?
and I'm stymied
because I know
without question
that my health
would not stand
for me to add
approx 15 to 20 hours a week
to my current workload
over the time it would take
to complete
so
I'd end up with an education
and be at death's door
I've been fighting with
this here computer
for a while now
for some reason
about 3000 of my mp3's
have decided
that they won't play anymore
and no amount of trying
to back date this machine
to when they were working
seems to make a difference
once again
I'm a prime example
of a little bit of knowledge
being a dangerous thing
and mostly I'm just really tired
of being frustrated with the damn thing
I bought a car
while I was off on holidays
and while the payments
are as low as one can get
I'm still concerned about finances
and gawd knows
I can unrealistically worry about money
and I'm allergic
to the chemical "new" car smell
so it's made me sick
but it could be something else
cos about have the "institution of higher learning"
is out with some kind of death defying galloping crud
that is laying healthy people out
flat on their backs
for 2 or 3 weeks at time
I'm scared I'm gonna get it too
taking last week off
found me coming back to work
having to make up
10 days of work
in 4 days
with little or no consideration
from the nut case
my two friends
that are leaving us....
actually left the Island today
and while I know in reality
they are only a phone call away
I'm sadder than sad
about the idea
that I can't just slip an hour up the road
for coffee
although I can count the number of times
I did that
on one hand
it's just the knowing
that I could have
had I wanted
that made me feel secure
all of this is topped off
by finding myself
sitting in front of the tube
this evening
watching "Out of Africa"
and crying like a baby
seems to me
that there's gotta be
a break in the grey
that my life has become
sometime soon
before it's too late
must be time to get the crochet hook out
I feel an urge
to
crochet my way
to mental health once again
coming on
sad days
sad nights
call for sad music
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Chapter 54
the sound: Seals & Crofts – Hummingbird, SuperTramp – Fools Overture, Rory Gallagher – Secret Agent, the Beatles – Free as a Bird, Tom Waits – Waltzing Matilda, Bruce Springsteen – Streets of Philadelphia
Round about the time I remember to close my yap I hear Greybeard chuckle and tell Robert that he should ‘pay his debts’ as opposed to trying to wiggle outta them.
There’s a couple of tense moments while the 2 groups of men glare at each other and then Barnyard pipes up and invites them to a bbq.
Robert looks perturbed but agrees, and Greybeard nods his head and allows as he and the boys may be hungry after the long ride.
“There’s enough goat for everyone” Robert answers.
As if by magic there’s a full relaxation that comes across the group and almost immediately the tension leaves and these people start to talk and laugh and joke amongst each other.
Again I find myself gawping.
“Two minutes ago I expected gunfire and now they are sitting side by side at the fire discussing bbq technique….” I muss.
As I begin to relax I spot Rosie walking from the garage towards the fire and I make a beeline to head her off and get some answers. She laughs as I approach and tells me that I look like a woman on a mission. I admit that I am and that I want more info. She sighs and agrees that maybe I do need some background then ushers me into the big barn like garage so that we won’t be overheard.
We settle onto a couple of shop stools and both of us light a smoke in silence, then I start with something eloquent…”what the fuck was that all about??”
“What?” she asks, playing stupid.
“that’s the second near shoot out between those two in two days…what the fuck is up with that?...And now they’re sitting there like brothers cos there’s food? Come on!”
Rosie shakes her head and smiles as she says...”They are sitting there like brothers because they are brothers….birth brothers not just blood or riding bro’s.”
I’m gawping again…I just know it. “Well what’s all this shit about debt? And what was in those saddle bags? And why does Robert keep referring to me as if I was a product? And how the hell did BarnYard get away with suggesting supper?”
Rosie laughs as she gets up and walks across the end of the garage to the an old “Coke” cooler...the kind that with the sliding doors on top and slots to hold the bottles by the neck…she reaches in and pulls out a beer “want one?” she asks before she continues.
“Sure…as long as you start talking…I’m like to have a cardiac trying to figure all this shit out” is my reply.
Rosie brings me a beer and settles down again. “Robert and Grey are brothers, hard to imagine considering how different they look, same mamas, different daddies. There’s someone else here that’s their family too…betcha can’t figure out who?”
“I don’t really care…except to say that it’s likely Barnyard cos he’s too stupid to get away with some o the shit he does and says.”
“Right on the money!” Rosie replies….”Grey….Barnyard and Robert…are 3 of 13 kids….7 boys, 6 girls, 3 fathers. Irish Catholic, and as tough as the day is long. Story has it that the first person to shoot Robert was Greybeard and that was over a fight they had over Barnyard…who’s the baby.” Grey’s the eldest and BY’s the baby and there’s 11 more of them in between….betcha also didn’t know that all 3 of them boys are my brothers?”
“Brothers? yours? waitafuckinminute! Didn’t you tell me yesterday that Robert owns the bar and alla you? What the fuck is up with this place? Can’t I get a straight answer outta anyone?”
Rosie laughs at me again…”yer quick on the uptake little girl. Robert does own us…he’s now the ‘father’ in our family…at least he is since Grey left us.”
“Ok…Grey’s yer oldest brother and Robert lands somewhere in between, and he gets to treat you like he does cos Grey left?”
“Right again” she says as she takes another pull on her beer. “Once our last daddy died and it became clear that Momma wasn’t gonna be able to keep us all together we started working towards makin the family some money…each in our own way.”
“Well,” I harrumphed, “if my brother tried to turn me out to flat back, he’d find himself sitting in a puddle of his own blood.”
“Be careful with your mouth little girl, don’t let it take you places that you have no knowledge of.” Rosie said as she set down her beer bottle, rose and walked out of the garage.
Round about the time I remember to close my yap I hear Greybeard chuckle and tell Robert that he should ‘pay his debts’ as opposed to trying to wiggle outta them.
There’s a couple of tense moments while the 2 groups of men glare at each other and then Barnyard pipes up and invites them to a bbq.
Robert looks perturbed but agrees, and Greybeard nods his head and allows as he and the boys may be hungry after the long ride.
“There’s enough goat for everyone” Robert answers.
As if by magic there’s a full relaxation that comes across the group and almost immediately the tension leaves and these people start to talk and laugh and joke amongst each other.
Again I find myself gawping.
“Two minutes ago I expected gunfire and now they are sitting side by side at the fire discussing bbq technique….” I muss.
As I begin to relax I spot Rosie walking from the garage towards the fire and I make a beeline to head her off and get some answers. She laughs as I approach and tells me that I look like a woman on a mission. I admit that I am and that I want more info. She sighs and agrees that maybe I do need some background then ushers me into the big barn like garage so that we won’t be overheard.
We settle onto a couple of shop stools and both of us light a smoke in silence, then I start with something eloquent…”what the fuck was that all about??”
“What?” she asks, playing stupid.
“that’s the second near shoot out between those two in two days…what the fuck is up with that?...And now they’re sitting there like brothers cos there’s food? Come on!”
Rosie shakes her head and smiles as she says...”They are sitting there like brothers because they are brothers….birth brothers not just blood or riding bro’s.”
I’m gawping again…I just know it. “Well what’s all this shit about debt? And what was in those saddle bags? And why does Robert keep referring to me as if I was a product? And how the hell did BarnYard get away with suggesting supper?”
Rosie laughs as she gets up and walks across the end of the garage to the an old “Coke” cooler...the kind that with the sliding doors on top and slots to hold the bottles by the neck…she reaches in and pulls out a beer “want one?” she asks before she continues.
“Sure…as long as you start talking…I’m like to have a cardiac trying to figure all this shit out” is my reply.
Rosie brings me a beer and settles down again. “Robert and Grey are brothers, hard to imagine considering how different they look, same mamas, different daddies. There’s someone else here that’s their family too…betcha can’t figure out who?”
“I don’t really care…except to say that it’s likely Barnyard cos he’s too stupid to get away with some o the shit he does and says.”
“Right on the money!” Rosie replies….”Grey….Barnyard and Robert…are 3 of 13 kids….7 boys, 6 girls, 3 fathers. Irish Catholic, and as tough as the day is long. Story has it that the first person to shoot Robert was Greybeard and that was over a fight they had over Barnyard…who’s the baby.” Grey’s the eldest and BY’s the baby and there’s 11 more of them in between….betcha also didn’t know that all 3 of them boys are my brothers?”
“Brothers? yours? waitafuckinminute! Didn’t you tell me yesterday that Robert owns the bar and alla you? What the fuck is up with this place? Can’t I get a straight answer outta anyone?”
Rosie laughs at me again…”yer quick on the uptake little girl. Robert does own us…he’s now the ‘father’ in our family…at least he is since Grey left us.”
“Ok…Grey’s yer oldest brother and Robert lands somewhere in between, and he gets to treat you like he does cos Grey left?”
“Right again” she says as she takes another pull on her beer. “Once our last daddy died and it became clear that Momma wasn’t gonna be able to keep us all together we started working towards makin the family some money…each in our own way.”
“Well,” I harrumphed, “if my brother tried to turn me out to flat back, he’d find himself sitting in a puddle of his own blood.”
“Be careful with your mouth little girl, don’t let it take you places that you have no knowledge of.” Rosie said as she set down her beer bottle, rose and walked out of the garage.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Chapter 53
the sound: Led Zeppelin – Communication Breakdown
The smell of wood smoke brought me back to the present and I looked up in time to see Robert lean across the fire and pour some of the ever present bottle of Jack on the barbequing goat meat.
This would be a meal I wouldn’t soon forget.
As the hangover began to leave me I became aware enough of my surroundings to realize that there were likely four times as many people here this evening as there had been the day before. And even as the thought crossed my mind I heard the sound of motorcycles coming towards us and looked up the hill to see a dozen or so more bikes come over the crest of the hill.
Robert looked up and the smile left his face. I looked around me to see the uncomfortable almost nervous movements of the people around me.
“Now what?” I wondered.
The bikes came towards us and I slowly began to understand that these were people that I’d seen before…it was that Greybeard guy that had been at ‘the Dump’ the day before.
There was a rustle of movement around me as the women seemed to virtually slip back into the darkness and men stepped forward in several large groups around Robert.
I looked, and looked again seeing, as if for the first time, Rosie and her ‘macdaddy’ first aid kit standing between the men. It was then that I realized that every one of the men that I could see was armed.
With the realization that everyone was packing also came the understanding that I was the only person not armed that was still in plain view of everyone around the fire pit.
I held my breath, afraid to move with the thought that movement would only attract attention to my being out in the open as Greybeard and his men came to a stop in front of the barn like garage. Slowly they dismounted and turned towards Robert and the fire.
“Evening Robert” Greybeard started as I realized that, all of Greybeard’s men were armed too.
“this could get really messy” I thought as Robert nodded in response to Gregbeard’s greeting.
“Once again Robert, you know why I’m here?”
Robert nods and glances over his shoulder. At his glance 4 women materialize out of the darkness each of them carrying a pair of motorcycle saddlebags obviously filled to capacity. They scurry up between Robert and his men and Greybeard and his men and deposit the bags on the ground.
The quiet of a group this size was ominous, had there been a floor one could have heard the proverbial pin drop.
“how much?” asked Greybeard
“50 thousand” came Robert’s reply.
“not even half!” snorts the man to Greybeard’s immediate left and his men began to shift and lean forward.
Greybeard shakes his head slightly and their movement stops as he leans forward, “I told you what the price was…and I gave you the timeline…”
A slow smile spreads across Robert’s face as he points towards the big tree that I’m leaned against. “She’s here for the taking” he replies.
The fire crackles and I gawp as I realize that the ‘she’ he’s talking about is me.
The smell of wood smoke brought me back to the present and I looked up in time to see Robert lean across the fire and pour some of the ever present bottle of Jack on the barbequing goat meat.
This would be a meal I wouldn’t soon forget.
As the hangover began to leave me I became aware enough of my surroundings to realize that there were likely four times as many people here this evening as there had been the day before. And even as the thought crossed my mind I heard the sound of motorcycles coming towards us and looked up the hill to see a dozen or so more bikes come over the crest of the hill.
Robert looked up and the smile left his face. I looked around me to see the uncomfortable almost nervous movements of the people around me.
“Now what?” I wondered.
The bikes came towards us and I slowly began to understand that these were people that I’d seen before…it was that Greybeard guy that had been at ‘the Dump’ the day before.
There was a rustle of movement around me as the women seemed to virtually slip back into the darkness and men stepped forward in several large groups around Robert.
I looked, and looked again seeing, as if for the first time, Rosie and her ‘macdaddy’ first aid kit standing between the men. It was then that I realized that every one of the men that I could see was armed.
With the realization that everyone was packing also came the understanding that I was the only person not armed that was still in plain view of everyone around the fire pit.
I held my breath, afraid to move with the thought that movement would only attract attention to my being out in the open as Greybeard and his men came to a stop in front of the barn like garage. Slowly they dismounted and turned towards Robert and the fire.
“Evening Robert” Greybeard started as I realized that, all of Greybeard’s men were armed too.
“this could get really messy” I thought as Robert nodded in response to Gregbeard’s greeting.
“Once again Robert, you know why I’m here?”
Robert nods and glances over his shoulder. At his glance 4 women materialize out of the darkness each of them carrying a pair of motorcycle saddlebags obviously filled to capacity. They scurry up between Robert and his men and Greybeard and his men and deposit the bags on the ground.
The quiet of a group this size was ominous, had there been a floor one could have heard the proverbial pin drop.
“how much?” asked Greybeard
“50 thousand” came Robert’s reply.
“not even half!” snorts the man to Greybeard’s immediate left and his men began to shift and lean forward.
Greybeard shakes his head slightly and their movement stops as he leans forward, “I told you what the price was…and I gave you the timeline…”
A slow smile spreads across Robert’s face as he points towards the big tree that I’m leaned against. “She’s here for the taking” he replies.
The fire crackles and I gawp as I realize that the ‘she’ he’s talking about is me.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Change...
some people
relish change
me
not so much
once upon a time I had a man best friend
and a woman best friend
I introduced them to each other
and they "twinkled"
about a year later they married
and have been living happily ever after
about an hour up the road from me
I was afraid at first
(cos ya gotta know
it's allllll about me)
that something would happen
and they would end up breaking up
and then where would I be?
but I've watched them carefully
both up close and personal
and from afar
and I am happy to report
that they are just fine!
happily ever after they are....
fast forward to last night...
I attended
a "going away" party
for these two who are
two of my closest
dearest
friends
everyone had nice things to say
and we all wept
tears of joy for new beginnings for them
tears of loss and sorrow for the new distance
that will be between us
fully recognizing that the kind of friendships we've built
won't disappear with a 4-5 hour drive
me?
I'm soo happy for what they have
and sad for what I feel like I'm losing
that I can't stop laughing and crying
so here's what I want them both to know....
you can move
but you can't get rid of me that easy!
I love you both so very much
relish change
me
not so much
once upon a time I had a man best friend
and a woman best friend
I introduced them to each other
and they "twinkled"
about a year later they married
and have been living happily ever after
about an hour up the road from me
I was afraid at first
(cos ya gotta know
it's allllll about me)
that something would happen
and they would end up breaking up
and then where would I be?
but I've watched them carefully
both up close and personal
and from afar
and I am happy to report
that they are just fine!
happily ever after they are....
fast forward to last night...
I attended
a "going away" party
for these two who are
two of my closest
dearest
friends
everyone had nice things to say
and we all wept
tears of joy for new beginnings for them
tears of loss and sorrow for the new distance
that will be between us
fully recognizing that the kind of friendships we've built
won't disappear with a 4-5 hour drive
me?
I'm soo happy for what they have
and sad for what I feel like I'm losing
that I can't stop laughing and crying
so here's what I want them both to know....
you can move
but you can't get rid of me that easy!
I love you both so very much
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Holly Daze
on hollydaze till the 25th
don't hold yer breath while I'm gone
WyzWmn has left the building!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
a different story
I've been conversing with a friend online
(no body that any of you will know...a biker from Southern CA)
who is about to go thru a breakup
he's been sitting at home
waiting for his unhappy partner
to just pack up and leave
cos he's one of them
"avoid conflict at all cost" people
I asked what he'd do if she took some his stuff
when she finally gloms onto the fact
that he wants her to leave
his response was that he'd just buy new....
anyway...it reminded me of this wee story LoL
once upon a time I had a roommate named Brenda
2 weeks after she moved in she moved her succubus boyfriend Rob in
6 mths later I finally lost my temper and gave them an eviction notice stating they had 30 days to "get the hell outta dodge"
she started packing the moment she got the notice
he put a hasp and padlock on their bedroom door so I couldn't see what was in the room
I began to notice something amiss when I couldn't find any bedding to change my bed with
then no towels
then the pots and pans started to go missing
then my upstairs neighbour dropped by to pay them for the stereo they were selling...you can imagine her surprise when I told her it was mine and I wasn't selling!
I kicked in the door to their room
unpacked all my stuff outta their boxes...
then poured 8 or 9 gallons of really cheap port wine on all their stuff and repacked it
then I fired all their stuff out the front door onto the road
and changed the lock on the doors to the house
when they came home that night I was sitting in the living room with the shotgun loaded
Rob looked thru the window...saw me and the shot gun and decided to pack all that stuff offa the road into the truck and they departed
about a month later I found Rob's precious antique wooden snow skis in the basement.
I returned them to him in a box....about the size of a ring box...only took me a week and a half to whittle em down to fit
never saw them again
hmmmmmmmmmmmm?
(no body that any of you will know...a biker from Southern CA)
who is about to go thru a breakup
he's been sitting at home
waiting for his unhappy partner
to just pack up and leave
cos he's one of them
"avoid conflict at all cost" people
I asked what he'd do if she took some his stuff
when she finally gloms onto the fact
that he wants her to leave
his response was that he'd just buy new....
anyway...it reminded me of this wee story LoL
once upon a time I had a roommate named Brenda
2 weeks after she moved in she moved her succubus boyfriend Rob in
6 mths later I finally lost my temper and gave them an eviction notice stating they had 30 days to "get the hell outta dodge"
she started packing the moment she got the notice
he put a hasp and padlock on their bedroom door so I couldn't see what was in the room
I began to notice something amiss when I couldn't find any bedding to change my bed with
then no towels
then the pots and pans started to go missing
then my upstairs neighbour dropped by to pay them for the stereo they were selling...you can imagine her surprise when I told her it was mine and I wasn't selling!
I kicked in the door to their room
unpacked all my stuff outta their boxes...
then poured 8 or 9 gallons of really cheap port wine on all their stuff and repacked it
then I fired all their stuff out the front door onto the road
and changed the lock on the doors to the house
when they came home that night I was sitting in the living room with the shotgun loaded
Rob looked thru the window...saw me and the shot gun and decided to pack all that stuff offa the road into the truck and they departed
about a month later I found Rob's precious antique wooden snow skis in the basement.
I returned them to him in a box....about the size of a ring box...only took me a week and a half to whittle em down to fit
never saw them again
hmmmmmmmmmmmm?
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Chapter 52
the sound: Jethro Tull – Witch’s Promise, Jethro Tull – Songs from the Wood, Jethro Tull – Minstrel in the Gallery, Jethro Tull – Heavy Horses, Jethro Tull – Broadsword, Jethro Tull – The Whistler, Jethro Tull – Song for Jeffery, Jethro Tull – Life’s a Song, Jethro Tull – Dark Ages, Jethro Tull – My God
I don’t think I really passed out at that point…but memories are pretty fuzzy in spots around the next few hours. I did, however, shut up for the time being.
Suffice it to say, the man with the knife got hurt, badly, and then he got arrested. My father saw to that before he checked to see if I was still alive….ever the consummate cop.
(I found out later that my father had broken the man’s jaw and one arm and almost lost his job…but I wasn’t really interested at that point…it would end up being just another one of those examples my father liked to throw in my face of things I had done to our family to cause them grief, strife or loss of wages…like I’d done it on purpose or something)
I remember that some man was holding me up off the floor so that while I was supine I was also sitting up enough to be able to watch my own blood pump out of me with some sort of detachment and morbid fascination. There were people gathered around us and as I looked up and was surprised to see the looks of horror. Women were crying….I just for the life of me couldn’t figure out what all that mess was coming out of that hole in my side.
Luck, never having been one of my saving graces, changed then. A woman who had just entered the airport terminal turned out to be a doctor and she used her own hands to hold my guts in my body while barking orders.
As soon as she took control everything moved back into real time and in no time at all I was in an ambulance racing through the city streets on my way to the hospital. I got noisy again for a while and then passed out just before we got to the hospital.
Apparently, for a while, it was “touch and go” as they say. I awoke some time later to my mother sitting in a chair in a private room and a cop at the door. I hurt like a son of a bitch and said so, loudly, then had a fight with a nurse because I wanted to see the injury. This of course convinced my mother that I was gonna make it while the nurse strapped my arms to the rails to “keep me from hurting myself”…..once again…like I’d done something on purpose.
I had a 5 inch wound on my abdomen, starting below my rib cage and following the curve of the bottom rib towards my sternum. Because I was falling by the top of it, it’s was mostly messy was at the bottom end. The area below my rib was sort of shredded and had to be “patched” back together. I could have it covered later, but my father was sure I “wouldn’t be vain enough to need that.” There were questions about just how much damage had actually been done to the inside of me as well…but that was one of those hushed conversations held between my father and the doctor that I wasn’t allowed to be party to.
Later my mother explained that I would require some physiotherapy to be able to stretch and stand straight and that I was one lucky girl to not have been poisoned by my own poison…..in the end, I never went.
Three weeks later, when I got out of the hospital I went to Toronto to stop the threats on my brother and sister and while there I discovered a whole new way to hide in dime bags and points. By that time almost all of Do-All’s family was in jail, as well as most of Bennie and Frankie’s cronies.
The papers had held the story ad nauseum and went on and on about the “young woman being brutally attacked at the local airport as and act of biker retribution”. I could never get anyone to understand that Do-All, Frankie and Bennie weren’t the bikers…I was.
Almost a year later I returned when the case went to court. Court in itself was a horror show of a different kind for me. The threats came back for a while but in the end Frankie and Bennie both got a “deuce less” (2 years less a day) to serve concurrent with the sentences that they’d received for trafficking. And Amelia didn’t press charges over the loss of her child…and I heard through the grapevine that she and her husband had split up. Frankie and Bennie would have not even been sent to a maximum security prison if it hadn’t been for the drugs.
In the end…the whole episode left me scared and frightened and I thought friendless. Then my Grandfather died and friends started climbing out of the woodwork. I didn’t care…by that time all I cared about was dime bags and eight balls….and finding ways to find “clean” needles.
I don’t think I really passed out at that point…but memories are pretty fuzzy in spots around the next few hours. I did, however, shut up for the time being.
Suffice it to say, the man with the knife got hurt, badly, and then he got arrested. My father saw to that before he checked to see if I was still alive….ever the consummate cop.
(I found out later that my father had broken the man’s jaw and one arm and almost lost his job…but I wasn’t really interested at that point…it would end up being just another one of those examples my father liked to throw in my face of things I had done to our family to cause them grief, strife or loss of wages…like I’d done it on purpose or something)
I remember that some man was holding me up off the floor so that while I was supine I was also sitting up enough to be able to watch my own blood pump out of me with some sort of detachment and morbid fascination. There were people gathered around us and as I looked up and was surprised to see the looks of horror. Women were crying….I just for the life of me couldn’t figure out what all that mess was coming out of that hole in my side.
Luck, never having been one of my saving graces, changed then. A woman who had just entered the airport terminal turned out to be a doctor and she used her own hands to hold my guts in my body while barking orders.
As soon as she took control everything moved back into real time and in no time at all I was in an ambulance racing through the city streets on my way to the hospital. I got noisy again for a while and then passed out just before we got to the hospital.
Apparently, for a while, it was “touch and go” as they say. I awoke some time later to my mother sitting in a chair in a private room and a cop at the door. I hurt like a son of a bitch and said so, loudly, then had a fight with a nurse because I wanted to see the injury. This of course convinced my mother that I was gonna make it while the nurse strapped my arms to the rails to “keep me from hurting myself”…..once again…like I’d done something on purpose.
I had a 5 inch wound on my abdomen, starting below my rib cage and following the curve of the bottom rib towards my sternum. Because I was falling by the top of it, it’s was mostly messy was at the bottom end. The area below my rib was sort of shredded and had to be “patched” back together. I could have it covered later, but my father was sure I “wouldn’t be vain enough to need that.” There were questions about just how much damage had actually been done to the inside of me as well…but that was one of those hushed conversations held between my father and the doctor that I wasn’t allowed to be party to.
Later my mother explained that I would require some physiotherapy to be able to stretch and stand straight and that I was one lucky girl to not have been poisoned by my own poison…..in the end, I never went.
Three weeks later, when I got out of the hospital I went to Toronto to stop the threats on my brother and sister and while there I discovered a whole new way to hide in dime bags and points. By that time almost all of Do-All’s family was in jail, as well as most of Bennie and Frankie’s cronies.
The papers had held the story ad nauseum and went on and on about the “young woman being brutally attacked at the local airport as and act of biker retribution”. I could never get anyone to understand that Do-All, Frankie and Bennie weren’t the bikers…I was.
Almost a year later I returned when the case went to court. Court in itself was a horror show of a different kind for me. The threats came back for a while but in the end Frankie and Bennie both got a “deuce less” (2 years less a day) to serve concurrent with the sentences that they’d received for trafficking. And Amelia didn’t press charges over the loss of her child…and I heard through the grapevine that she and her husband had split up. Frankie and Bennie would have not even been sent to a maximum security prison if it hadn’t been for the drugs.
In the end…the whole episode left me scared and frightened and I thought friendless. Then my Grandfather died and friends started climbing out of the woodwork. I didn’t care…by that time all I cared about was dime bags and eight balls….and finding ways to find “clean” needles.
Friday, March 07, 2008
again with the sorry...
seems I'm always apologizing to you guys of late
I didn't intend for this to be such a cliff hanger
but the Blister is here on holidays
so
that's where she gets to lay around like
Lady Godiva
and I get to watch the VOD
wait on her hand and foot
there's also been some serious developments
in the Hysteria area of my life
and frankly
I.have.no.damn.time.
yup...this is me makin excuses again....
I haven't written the next chapter
I'll try to get to it this weekend...
promise,,,
in the meantime
I want to give a shout out to my fellow blogger
Crystal of "Boobs, Injuries & Dr. Pepper" fame
she's having a tuff go right now
so some healing thoughts on her behalf
wouldn't go remiss....
I didn't intend for this to be such a cliff hanger
but the Blister is here on holidays
so
that's where she gets to lay around like
Lady Godiva
and I get to watch the VOD
wait on her hand and foot
there's also been some serious developments
in the Hysteria area of my life
and frankly
I.have.no.damn.time.
yup...this is me makin excuses again....
I haven't written the next chapter
I'll try to get to it this weekend...
promise,,,
in the meantime
I want to give a shout out to my fellow blogger
Crystal of "Boobs, Injuries & Dr. Pepper" fame
she's having a tuff go right now
so some healing thoughts on her behalf
wouldn't go remiss....
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Jeff Healey
Canadian musician Jeff Healey dies of cancer
Last Updated: Sunday, March 2, 2008 8:23 PM ET
CBC News
Canadian musician Jeff Healy has died of cancer, his publicist and his website said Sunday.
Healey, 41, died at Toronto's St. Joseph Hospital on Sunday evening. His publicist told CTV his illness was something he fought with "considerable bravery."
Rock in Peace Jeff
Last Updated: Sunday, March 2, 2008 8:23 PM ET
CBC News
Canadian musician Jeff Healy has died of cancer, his publicist and his website said Sunday.
Healey, 41, died at Toronto's St. Joseph Hospital on Sunday evening. His publicist told CTV his illness was something he fought with "considerable bravery."
Rock in Peace Jeff
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Chapter 51
the sound: Phil Collins – In the Air
I’d spent virtually the whole day at the police station, going over and over my statement with the police…with several police officers in fact. To be sure, in the impeccable words of my father, that I had my bloody story straight.
Late in the afternoon 2 officers came in and held a heated whispered conference with my father. Today had been the big “staff appreciation” party at the hotel. Everyone that I knew would have been there. The police raided the party and arrested Bennie and Frankie.
At the time Frankie had a plastic bag in his pocket with 160 eight balls in it. Bennie (true to his name) was carrying several hundred black beauties in a bag down the front of his pants. Both of them were being charged with possession with intent to traffic as well as armed robbery and expulsion of a firearm within the city limits. Charges over Amelia’s baby were pending.
As the only person on staff that was not there at the time, the only person that had been involved in the robbery that was not there at the time, the only person whose father was a cop not there. Two plus two equals four…..so everyone pretty much knew immediately that I’d been the one to blow the whistle. Apparently the act of arresting them had been rather stellar, I heard whispers of riot gear, clubs and pepper spray.
I hung my head. “How ever would I live this one down?” I was pretty sure that my days in my particular line of work, or with my so called friends were numbered.
At dusk we returned to my parent’s house. I was surprised to see that there were still officers there. But better safe than sorry my mother said. We (the family) bedded down for the night as the officers settled in for the night watch.
Over the next week we had officers at the house or outside it round the clock and we settled into some sort of bizarre routine. By the end of the week yet another whispered conference was held and the officers left us alone.
The following week my brother and sister returned to public school. On the Thursday my seven year old sister came home in tears. A “big bad man” had pulled her off of the street and into the bushes on her way home from school. He had threatened to kill her if I didn’t “shut the fuck up” and then he cut off her beautiful long blonde hair with a “big scary knife”.
The police came back for another week and then left again when nothing happened. The day they left my mother received a phone call from a man with a deep mean voice….”don’t let your boy go to school tomorrow if you want him to return home a boy”.
The police came back. Finally it was suggested that I should go to Toronto to stay with extended family a while so that my immediate family could get a life. I did as I was told and packed a bag to go to the airport.
I was escorted to the airport by my father, who’d spent most of his time on the drive there telling me what a failure I was as a human being. I was at the height of anxiety; I was scared, ashamed of my breach of trust of all my friends, worried about my kid brother and sister, and just plain scared to get on that plane by myself.
I got out of the car and watched as my father came around the car to escort me into the airport. Side by side we walked into the small town airport terminal and walked towards the counter. My father picked up my ticket at the counter and handed it to me. He admonished me once again and sent me on my way towards airport security.
The little airport was teeming with people...a plane from Winnipeg having just arrived. I remember watching people greeting family members and friends as I walked towards the security check. I looked down for a moment…just in time to see a hand holding a knife coming towards my right abdomen...just below the rib cage.
Time froze.
I noticed a braid of beautiful blonde hair hanging from his dirty jean vest.
I looked up and into the brown crazed eyes of the man holding the knife.
I had a moment of complete clarity.
I recognized him as one of Frankie’s cronies as he pushed the knife into my gut and started to pull up….
I heard someone screaming.
It was me.
I’d spent virtually the whole day at the police station, going over and over my statement with the police…with several police officers in fact. To be sure, in the impeccable words of my father, that I had my bloody story straight.
Late in the afternoon 2 officers came in and held a heated whispered conference with my father. Today had been the big “staff appreciation” party at the hotel. Everyone that I knew would have been there. The police raided the party and arrested Bennie and Frankie.
At the time Frankie had a plastic bag in his pocket with 160 eight balls in it. Bennie (true to his name) was carrying several hundred black beauties in a bag down the front of his pants. Both of them were being charged with possession with intent to traffic as well as armed robbery and expulsion of a firearm within the city limits. Charges over Amelia’s baby were pending.
As the only person on staff that was not there at the time, the only person that had been involved in the robbery that was not there at the time, the only person whose father was a cop not there. Two plus two equals four…..so everyone pretty much knew immediately that I’d been the one to blow the whistle. Apparently the act of arresting them had been rather stellar, I heard whispers of riot gear, clubs and pepper spray.
I hung my head. “How ever would I live this one down?” I was pretty sure that my days in my particular line of work, or with my so called friends were numbered.
At dusk we returned to my parent’s house. I was surprised to see that there were still officers there. But better safe than sorry my mother said. We (the family) bedded down for the night as the officers settled in for the night watch.
Over the next week we had officers at the house or outside it round the clock and we settled into some sort of bizarre routine. By the end of the week yet another whispered conference was held and the officers left us alone.
The following week my brother and sister returned to public school. On the Thursday my seven year old sister came home in tears. A “big bad man” had pulled her off of the street and into the bushes on her way home from school. He had threatened to kill her if I didn’t “shut the fuck up” and then he cut off her beautiful long blonde hair with a “big scary knife”.
The police came back for another week and then left again when nothing happened. The day they left my mother received a phone call from a man with a deep mean voice….”don’t let your boy go to school tomorrow if you want him to return home a boy”.
The police came back. Finally it was suggested that I should go to Toronto to stay with extended family a while so that my immediate family could get a life. I did as I was told and packed a bag to go to the airport.
I was escorted to the airport by my father, who’d spent most of his time on the drive there telling me what a failure I was as a human being. I was at the height of anxiety; I was scared, ashamed of my breach of trust of all my friends, worried about my kid brother and sister, and just plain scared to get on that plane by myself.
I got out of the car and watched as my father came around the car to escort me into the airport. Side by side we walked into the small town airport terminal and walked towards the counter. My father picked up my ticket at the counter and handed it to me. He admonished me once again and sent me on my way towards airport security.
The little airport was teeming with people...a plane from Winnipeg having just arrived. I remember watching people greeting family members and friends as I walked towards the security check. I looked down for a moment…just in time to see a hand holding a knife coming towards my right abdomen...just below the rib cage.
Time froze.
I noticed a braid of beautiful blonde hair hanging from his dirty jean vest.
I looked up and into the brown crazed eyes of the man holding the knife.
I had a moment of complete clarity.
I recognized him as one of Frankie’s cronies as he pushed the knife into my gut and started to pull up….
I heard someone screaming.
It was me.
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