SoCS: let go: I wish

Your prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “let go.” Write about the first thing that comes to mind when you think “let go.” 

First thing that comes to mind; I wish I could. And it figures it would be the prompt this morning because ‘letting things go’ is a big problem right now. I’m lying in bed at night and in the morning, thinking about those things I wish I could just ‘let go’ of.

What would really help would be a future. I’m going to be 70 this year. My hopes for the future are not ending up in a nursing home. I would love to be able to stay in my home, and I will for as long as I can but its not that easy. Its a lot of work for an old lady. A lot of upkeep and expense. Last year my furnace and lawn mower both broke down and that put me in a downward financial spiral. I worry that when I have to replace my roof, its game over.

I wish I could let go of my past. Its all the crap that brought me to where I am today. I don’t even want to write about it; I really want to let it go. Maybe when you get old you have so much past and so little future . . . well, I guess it comes down to dumping all that baggage you are still carrying; letting it go.

At seventy I could still have another 20 years or more in me. God, I hope not. There’s no way I’m looking after this place at that age. I can only bring in 2 pieces of wood at a time or my carpel tunnel hurts. I can see the day I’m shuffling in with one piece of wood at a time. If I didn’t have wood heat right now I would be freezing. I could not afford to keep this place warm with the cost of propane and electric heat.

We are in an “extreme cold warning.” My propane company has once again taken my money and not delivered. They have me on COD. They won’t deliver my propane without a $400 minimum payment and they will bring me $400 worth of propane, which is less and less every year. I phoned them last week and told them I was waiting for my pension cheque and could they please fill my tanks with $400 when I get it and bill me for the rest in March. No, they won’t. I can only pay $400 this month which I did when I got my OAP. But that wasn’t enough time to get on the delivery list. Now I’m very low on propane on an extremely cold weekend.

And it only takes an incident like that to lose my peace of mind. Its like treading water then someone throws you a weight.

I have to let go of the future, too. I’ll stay here until I can’t do it anymore. Not being able to drive or afford a car might come first; I would have to move to a town. There’s no use in worrying about it until it happens.

So I will do today what I always do; clean up and get on with it. Put some nice scents in the water on the woodstove, play some uplifting music while I do last nights dishes. Eating healthy is necessary for mental health so I use dishes, pots and pans everyday. I’m getting some sunlight in the afternoon in my living room now and today is sunny. I’ll work on my jigsaw puzzle and park myself in the sun. Do whatever it takes to let go of the past and enjoy what I have now.

SoCS: my old job

Your prompt for #JusJoJan and my very first birthday-Stream-of-Consciousness-Saturday is: “icing on the cake.” Write about the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the phrase “icing on the cake.”

I think of my job at Sobeys. When I first got hired at the bakery doing cakes “will be trained” I was ecstatic! I had bought my house with most of my settlement and had worked at a convenience store full time in the summers the first couple of years. then cleaned cottages. I was 61 yrs old, running out of money and getting scared when I saw the ad for cake decorator at Sobeys. I drove there in a snow storm to hand in my resume. A few days later I got an interview and got the job! OH man, was I happy!

It turned out the manager of the bakery wasn’t anywhere near as nice as the store owner who hired me. He was grouchy all the time and the cake queen was a bitch. They were awful. I stood my ground. One day I yelled at him, “You aren’t going to bully me out of this job!”

And one day I yelled at her “I’m here to help YOU! Tell me what to do to HELP YOU!”

He got a little better after that and she got WAY better when she found out I not only smoked pot but grew it and could sell her good pot at a bargain price. I would stick a 1/4 oz in my sock and we would exchange in the freezer, out of site of cameras. (It was illegal in those days.) After that, I was her best friend. A friend with weed is a friend indeed.

But the main story I thought of when I read ‘icing on the cake’ was about 2 months into my job, in which I was told I would be trained, they had not taught me any cake decorating or writing. I only did background, help-out work. One day my boss said nastily “You should be able to write on a cake by now.”

So my next day off I went to Walmart, got a cake decorating kit and went on YouTube to learn how to write on cakes. I put plastic wrap over a cutting board. I still have the photos here:

this is before I found out I’d been spelling congratulations wrong my whole

I had to lick it off!
this is as good as I got.

A job I was so happy to get and even happier to leave!

SoCS: doodit, doodit, doodit. ..

Your prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “a rainy day.” Write about the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the phrase “a rainy day.” 

The earworm started as soon as I read it. This particular earworm was permanently burned into my brain. It was a song they played at work. . . . every day and every night.

“Save it for rainy daaaay….. doodit, doodit, doodit, doodit. . . Save it for a rainy daaaay . . . doodit, doodit, doodit, doodit. . . .” On and on, over and over, I couldn’t actually hear all the words as it was coming overhead from a little speaker in the bakery. There was no escape. Running to the washroom didn’t help because it was piped right in to the can. So I don’t know any other words except . . .

“Save it for rainy daaaay….. doodit, doodit, doodit, doodit. . . Save it for a rainy daaaay . . . doodit, doodit, doodit, doodit. . . .” Yeah I copied and pasted that. I could copy and paste it over and over to give you an idea of the torture that song can bring.

I would be driving home, in tears;

“Save it for rainy daaaay….. doodit, doodit, doodit, doodit. . . Save it for a rainy daaaay . . . doodit, doodit, doodit, doodit. . . .”

I think I better head on over to Spotify soon and exorcise this tune.

SoCS: In the morning

Your prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “In the.” Start your post with the words “In the” – that’s the prompt! 

In the morning I get up to turn the heat up to 21C and then get back into my warm bed with an electric blanket. Ever after 15 years of having a furnace I am still thankful every winter morning I can get up, turn up the heat, go back to bed until it warms up.

This is normal for most people but not for those who heat with wood only as I did for almost 30 years. Get up in the freezing cold (now that I have a thermostat I often wonder how cold it was there) start a fire and huddle in a blanket until it warms up. Drink your coffee by the woodstove. Nowadays I get my fire going when the furnace reaches 21 and stops. It backdrafts if I try and start it before.

And I still think of if every morning because I know my ex is waking up freezing cold having to go downstairs and start a fire. He hasn’t had running water for a few years because he can’t be bothered to get it fixed. There is a composting toilet there that was a nightmare 15 years ago with me keeping it livable. I can’t imagine what its like there now. I suspect he doesn’t fix his water because there is too much clutter in the house. He won’t let a plumber in. He’s been sick with Omicron, he’s not healthy to begin with. . . and damnit! after 15 years I still can’t stop myself from worrying about him.

His sister started messaging me on Facebook Wednesday night. She had just found out he didn’t have running water and thought he was sick at home with no drinking water. She lives in Milwaukee, Wisc. and was trying to find out how to order bottled water and have it delivered to him.

I phoned him and he did have bottled water and cases of Coke. He won’t come here and I can’t go there. On top of all that, he is snowed in and its a very, very long driveway.

I keep telling myself ‘its his choice’. He is living the way he wants to live. His sisters have been nagging him so much he won’t pick up the phone when they call.

I wish I could feel vindicated or satisfied that he got what he deserved. I try to tell myself that . . . but I feel bad for him and I’m very worried about him. And I think of what our lives could be like if he wasn’t . . . . him.