Thursday, May 31, 2012

Chapter Thirty-One

The thing about shea butter soap is it just melts away so darned fast. We are already on the tail end of this new bar of soap. I'm loving how it makes me smell, but for the money it really didn't last very long. This morning's shower however was glorious. Such a gift to give each other each morning. Intimacy, laughter, cooperation. Our shower is big, but it still requires a certain amount of dancing around each other.

While packing our lunches Ken was playing airplane aisle. You know, when you have all the space in the world to get around someone, but you pretend like you have to squeeze by them to get to something. Excuse me, excuse me, sorry, heading that way. Oh, oops, forgot something over there, excuse me, excuse me, so sorry. Oh whoops, was that me or you? Wait, is that my hand? Oh sorry, I thought I was grabbing the bread, excuse me, coming through. No matter how old they get they remain fifth grade boys. Thank God.

I leave for work happy, relaxed and knowing I am loved.

At work it continues to be a good day. Boss and manager both out for the day. Woot! I can just breathe and do my job. Glorious. I actually laugh and joke around with a couple of co-workers and feel a bit like my old self.

I have my appointment with an ombudsman on Monday to help me with my appeal. For now I will be very short on funds. I will only get paid for nine hours for last week, and only four hours a day this week. I did have some leave donated, but not enough. I am an emotion first type of person. I need to sit and let all the feelings about that situation just flow. I can not act on any of them right now as my actions would most definitely be fear based. Sit, pray, meditate, feel. Once the jumble has passed on by hopefully I can look objectively at our finances.

One foot in front of the other. Little tiny baby steps, but don't be afraid to sprint occasionally. Life is a grand thing and I mean to enjoy it.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Chapter Thirty

Two more days down at work. One foot in front of the other. Celebrate the little successes.

Yesterday on the way home I passed a cop going 85. I figured I was finally going to get a speeding ticket. All in all I've been driving since I was 16, I'm now 52 so...you do the math, I suck at it. Anyway, I thought there was no way I was getting out of this one. I hit the brakes, pulled to the right preparing to stop and he blew right past me like I was standing still. He did shake his finger at me, and he was laughing. I went ahead and pulled over and just sat on the side of the road for a while. It appears I missed some signs that perhaps I was anxious. Yep yep, elevated heart rate, itchy skin, shaky hands. I don't know what set me off, but I do remember watching the clock as it got to 11:00 and running out of the building. Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four. I am calm, I am in control. Nothing they do is actually going to kill me. Driving oblivious WILL kill me or someone else. Breathe in, breathe out, calm, calm.

Leslie and I discuss my near ticket. We make a plan that when leaving work, I will simply drive around the corner and park. Do a self assessment and if needed take a quick walk in the park, maybe sit and meditate. Good plan.

One of my coworkers was selected to attend the new Leadership Academy at work. I of course was not allowed to apply due to my written reprimand. Larry attended his first class when I was out being crazy. I want to pick his brains. I would love to hear what my company thinks it is doing with leadership and contrast it with my experience. I hear all these wonderful things, but it's just not translating to what I've been going through or have experienced. A company that lacks a basic appeals process does not have a leadership program. A company that denies it's helpdesk support team training in the very programs it is suppose to support, does not have leadership.

Today I survived our first departmental staff meeting. I was welcomed back with "we will take a minute to welcome Tamara back, yeah, now we can all go pee." Where does that rate on the professional scale? This is the woman who thinks I said or did something (which as of this date I have still not been provided ANY details of) unprofessional enough to warrant a written reprimand? If the reprimand was all it was it wouldn't be so hard to take. It's all the fallout from being reprimanded. I will not get a merit raise. I am ineligible for promotion. I can not apply for a lateral transfer for a year from the date of the reprimand. I was not allowed to apply for the leadership academy. I have no appeal. I have no voice.

I have a mortgage.

One thing I have to stop doing is trying to make this all make sense. You can not rationalize illogical, irrational behavior. That's how I get into crazy brain. I go over it and over it and over it in my head, trying to find the logic. Trying to find the reasoning. And down I spiral. There is no making sense of their behavior. I will never "get it." Perhaps I am not the crazy one. It's their party. I don't want to play. At this point I am just trying to survive until a certain amount of debt is gone and/or I can get the funding for my own business. I have come to a new level of acceptance that this is indeed not my career. This is funding.

If my boss asks me to change the wording in a helpstar to something that absolutely makes no sense to anyone who understands basic computing, so be it. I can just add a "per so and so" blah blah blah. If someone calls the helpdesk and cusses at me because I can't answer their question I can transfer them to someone else, like my boss or my manager. I do not have to take the punishment for things I did not decide. I have learned to document my conversations, and I have a recorder to help me with the short term memory issues I'm still dealing with.

Today when I left work, I pulled around the corner, did my self assessment, and then drove home. Cruise control is my friend.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Idea

One of the ideas I had was to open a fiber arts store/coffee shop here in the Burg. There is only one place to get yarn (excluding WalMart) and it is in a co-op type store. There is rarely someone there who knows anything about yarn to help you, and they carry limited accessories. By the way I generally try and exclude WalMart from my shopping list. If it can be bought locally that is always the first choice. Plus all WalMart carries is acrylic yarn. The yarn at the co-op place was heavy on acrylic too, some small selection of nice, but not much.

The Burg is a huge tourist/shopping/wine destination. I think a little cottage house on the west end of main or over by HEB would be a good location. West Main would be preferable. Rents here are crazy though. I've been eyeing a couple places that I think we could put a drive through for coffee to go. The Burg lacks a good coffee drive through. There are already a couple of coffee shops. One is right in the middle of million dollar mile and locals can't really get to it easily, the other is one block off Main, but kind of hard to find. The third is on West Main, but every time I go in there it's a bit spotty on service and a bit grimy.

I want to put a coffee bar in the shop as I think that will draw in customers. I can leave little balls of yarn and needles on tables with a how-to card. Host sit and knit groups in the coffee lounge. Maybe build a deck out back.

The fiber arts part of the shop wouldn't just be yarn and knitting supplies. I'd carry embroidery, crochet, hook rugs, needlepoint, silk and cotton blanks, and dyes and paints. Maybe a small selection of nice fabrics. Offer classes from experts periodically. A small version of an artist in residence perhaps? One of the buildings I was looking at had a small apartment on top of it. Have the guest artist stay there. I could even put up a monkeyhut outside whenever weather permitted and do some outside tie-dye things with kids.

Brainstorming ideas. I've been reading the Small Business Administrations website, formulating a business plan, and totally scaring the crap out of myself. But I'm excited for the first time in a long time about something.

Oh what I could do with $100,000.00.

What do you think?

Monday, May 28, 2012

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I wake up to a quiet house. Ken has gone to find parts for Mark the trailer guy. I think Lillian and Sarah are still asleep. Today is Memorial Day. I have had Craig on my mind and in my heart a lot this week. More so than he is usually there. Semper Fi sweet boy.

I seem to have had a set back. Already I'm having trouble sleeping when I'm suppose to sleep, but am falling asleep during the day. Last night I woke up crying. Ken says enough, just quit. We can use your 401K money and figure it out. It's just money. I'm not there yet. I know what that "just money" provides us. And we don't have a lot of extras, nor do we live an excessive life. Simple food, a home, the occasional movie night out.

I was shocked at how strongly I recoiled from my boss. That shook me a bit. On some level in my brain I still react with basic fight or flight with her. I did not want her touching me. She walked up behind me two times to ask a question and both times I jumped. Then that made me angry. I'm getting impatient with myself. I don't know if that is a good sign or not. All I know is she has too much power and I have none at work. I was against the union last time. I have changed my mind. At least with a union there is a union rep, an appeals process, you have a voice.

I am still stuck between CIGNA and Workers Comp. Neither want to pay for leave. I am processing appeals, but in the meantime I have to rely on donations of leave from my co-workers. I had 50 hours of leave donated so last pay period with the vacation I had saved is covered. I will only get paid 9 hours for last week, and the coming week only the 20 hours that I work. If I win an appeal I guess I get back pay? Not sure how it all works. So much paperwork it all runs together. I have to read something multiple times for it to stick in my memory right now. Still having short term memory issues.

I am going to spend today spraying some new organic bug spray on the tomatoes. The tomato worms are extra bad this year already and we've lost two whole plants. Then I am going to make dresses for Lillian and a co-workers two sweet little girls. Perhaps a scarf or two. I will love on my husband and granddaughter, and I guess my sweet daughter too. I will throw in a couple of long walks and eat good food

I refuse to let depression take over.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Scorpions

Last night Ken and I went on a scorpion hunt. He has this black light flashlight and evidently scorpions glow in a black light. It is interesting to see nature under a black light even if you really don't want to actually find any scorpions. Different minerals glow in rocks. A plain white rock during the day becomes a rainbow under a black light flashlight. Inspiration. Little tiny white flowers that blend in to the greenery and abundance of wildflowers during the day float in a sea of black, little tiny white specks of grace and beauty. We walk almost up to the mailboxes and thankfully have not seen a scorpion.

Starting about five years ago we began decorating our road for Christmas. We wrap tinsel garland around trees, cactus, rocks, really anything that stands still. We also hang huge plastic ornaments from the tree limbs that overhang the road, smaller ones in the cedars that line the road. As you drive towards our house your car lights flash on the tinsel and ornaments and the road twinkles at you. This year we left the tinsel up for year round twinkling. We took down all the ornaments though. The black light picks up every little piece of tinsel that has fluttered to the ground. If each little piece didn't first make me jump and dance away thinking it's a scorpion I'd be enjoying this more. In my opinion the only good scorpion is one that has been ground into mush by a boot heel. I ask Ken again why this is a good idea. Just wait until you see one, they look like they're made of el-wire. 

It is a beautiful spring night in Central Texas. I decide to ignore the fact that we are looking for scorpions and just enjoy the night and the walk. Ken has on slinky long grey shorts. They go almost all the way down to his knees. He likes the feel of them but says they are way too long. He wants me to hem them up to right above mid thigh, or really just a couple inches from where the crotch of the shorts hang. Every time he brings it up I start calling him Coach. He doesn't think I am very funny. I start amusing myself by lightly brushing my finger down his butt cheek. He is so alert for scorpions it makes him jump and swat each and every time. I seem to have lost my ability to feel guilt. 

We are almost back to the house and he finds a scorpion. The little bastard does indeed glow like el-wire. It is also hanging upside down on the branch of a cedar tree. I look around at all the cedar trees lining our road and scattered around our property. I will never leave the road again. Oh good grief Tamara, how many years have we been tromping around through these trees and how many times have you ever been stung? Logic has nothing to do with this. It's all knowledge based right now, and now I KNOW they hang upside down in cedar trees. 

Ken keeps poking at the day glow scorpion until it falls from the tree. I jump and scream and Ken laughs. It seems he has lost his ability to feel guilt too. 

I want to line our house with black lights. Have black light nightlights in every room. Really, I am terrified of scorpions. 

Friday, May 25, 2012

Part Two

I wish I could tell you that was just wonderful.

I am home, I am safe. I made it the whole four hours. I only cried three times.

I got there 15 minutes early as planned and took 1/2 a pill, went into Ann's office in HR at 8:00. She let me know my boss decided to not take the day off so she was there. First set of tears. Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four. It's just a feeling, it can't really kill me, take my mind to this morning's shower, I can still smell the soap on my skin, I can play with my scarf in my hand. Calm, calm. we discuss open enrollment, changes in coverage etc. We review some changes in policies that were announced while I was out. I ask specifically about an appeals process. No, we still don't have one of those. I ask about an employee advocacy policy, no we still don't have one of those. Do you think we ever will? She will bring it up at the next policy committee meeting. She is going to call my boss to come over, I take another 1/2 a pill. Boss bounces in the room with her fake cheerleader happy voice and tries to pat me on the back. I involuntarily cringe away from her. That makes me start itching. Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four. Send my brain back to the shower, calm, calm. The itching stops. So glad to have you back, we are busy busy. Need you need you. Nothings really changed, same projects, sap moving along. Busy busy busy. We walk to my desk together.

I ask my co-workers how it's going. Is it nice to be busy? They laugh. Nothings changed. I catch up on a months worth of emails in 30 minutes. One even says welcome back to hell. Take two phone calls, enter two helpstars. And wait out the four hours. Really, nothings changed. This is my second cry of the day.

My written reprimand stands. Even though I still have not been told what I need to correct. HR suggests I just get that behind me and move on. Time will pass, changes are coming. It will get better. Once time has passed all these opportunities are opening up. I told her I'd heard that for the last five years. Nothing has changed. I will get no raise, I am not eligible for promotion, I am not allowed to apply for a transfer, I can be immediately fired if my boss perceives that I am not correcting whatever it is she thinks I did unprofessionally that she still has not provided me details about.

My friend has been moved across the street and is no longer two cubicles down and one over from me. Third cry of the day.

Really, they weren't full on cries. Just tear ups. I got them under control pretty quickly.

I read an email from our CEO that Somerset group was there while I was out taking employee input on how things are and what we would like to see change. Is it possible for me to still contribute? Well, the due date for input has passed. I email the CEO asking if it is too late for me be have any input with Somerset, that I had been out on medical leave and had not been informed of the opportunity.

It is going to be very important for me to take really good care of myself until I get this debt paid down. It is going to be really important that I keep eating good food, keep creating, keep playing. Keep reaching out to those who love me and make me feel better about myself.

But for this afternoon, I am pulling the covers over my head. I am holed up in my fortress, I am safe. I am loved. And I am going to take a nap.

Back to Work

Ken is dusting off my lunch box when I go into the kitchen. I tell him that I'm leaving before lunch but he says I still need to take some fruit and other healthy snacks with me. I make his sandwich, peppered turkey and horseradish cheddar on 7 grain and honey bread today. One of his favorites. He loads me up with two bananas, a peach, a plum, two clif bars, and the dehydrated vege chips. That should get me through a whole week. 

Today we use a new soap I found at the health food store. It's made by a lovely lady here in the Burg. It's a good shea butter soap, scented with Chanel No. 5. Nice lather, but really nothing can beat french milled soap for lather. The scent is lovely though and Ken spends extra time on my feet and shoulders. I give his lower back some forearm time. We both linger as long as we can.

As I'm getting dressed I comment that I'm going to have to adjust to wearing a bra again. I know, I was just grieving for the girls. Poor trapped babies. Just remember girls, we can set you free the second you get home. He has me laughing so hard I have a hard time getting the durn hooks together.

I put the GPS in your car so if you get flustered you can just hit HOME and follow the directions.  Also, I'm not going anywhere today, just staying in the Burg. I can come get you, or I can come sit with you somewhere. Just call or have Frank or someone call, ok?  OK, I love you. I love you too. 

Ken goes off to work smelling of Chanel No. 5, Colgate toothpaste, shaving cream and Old Spice. Simply perfection. I watch his truck lights disappear around the S turn. He flashes the brake lights at me several times.

I turn on my computer and the first message I read contains this:

1) Remember that this is temporary
2) Remember that the job is a means to an end to keep your house and to be able to fulfill your biggest dreams
3) You are not your job
4) The changes at your job are not reflective of you. 
5) Your emotional reactions to your job are a reflection of the care you have given work that has not been returned to you. That energy will be given back in ways that are thousands of times more awesome than what that job can provide.
6) You are surrounded by tons of people who love and care for you.

I think I'll print this out and have it on my cubicle wall right next to the picture of Ken and I kissing at Texas Motor Speedway. 

I have my knitting bag loaded, I have new pictures of my three grandsons to post on my wall. I am wearing one of my scarves, the purple one I made this week. Leslie suggested I take at least one with me to work as a reminder. I am also taking one of the chiffon sarongs with me to use as a wrap in case the A/C is blasting at work still. I have my recorder so I can tape instructions and meetings. Both for protection and for assistance with my short term memory issues. I have good food. 

I am so loved and blessed. I am a beautiful, capable, perfect child of God. 

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Today was the day I thought I was to return to work. I've been given a one day reprieve and I start tomorrow. So today will be spent creating things, with some minor errand running. Getting out in the world.

There is a fine line between acknowledging your nervousness, or fright level, and giving it too much power. To ignore fear is to give it room to grow and take you out from behind. Don't suppress, manage. I need to recognize my early signs. My arms start itching, this really weird pain in my shoulder, sweating. Those are the early signs for me. Then I start shaking, then I stop breathing. I'm re-learning how to just acknowledge, oh look, i'm a little nervous. And just let the nervous be. Don't feed it. Get my brain busy on something else. Hello fear, you can not kill me. You are just a feeling. Take my brain to Burning Man, or to Lillian waking me up with baby kisses and snuggles, or to that morning's shower with Ken. Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four, take good food with me, write posters of affirmations and pin them all over my cubicle so I can just look at one and breathe and concentrate on healthy thoughts. Don't let the fear start snowballing in my brain.

The one thing I know is that I could not recover without assistance. I needed, and still need, medical assistance for medications, therapeutic assistance from an objective person to guide me through the confusion of my brain, and the love and support of Ken and my family and friends. I am fortunate to have good health care insurance to assist me in my recovery. This mental illness thing is not cheap, and is a grey area in coverage. As witnessed by my two insurance companies both not wanting to cover my leave. If I had fallen and broken my leg, there is no doubt of my coverage. However it was not my leg that was broken, it was my brain. Appeals will be filed. I find it interesting that to get help and time to recover from my stress issues, I have to put myself into stressful, vulnerable positions. There are no advocates or union reps to assist you.

I'm having to learn a new way of thinking about work. It is just not in my makeup to not care. I almost have to pull out some old alanon tricks. Care, with detachment. I am not responsible for what my department has been turned into. All I can do is help the person in front of me to the best of my abilities. I need to remember I am not the person my boss and manager tell me I am. I am a hard working loyal employee that cares about my co-workers and my department. I know my truth and it is not their distortions or half truths. I need to remember that we are not a family. I do this work, you give me a paycheck. I do not have to buy into the games.

Today I go to the Texas Tech campus here in the Burg and see what else they need to help me finish my degree. This won't get me out of the situation i'm in right away, but it's a step towards future control. I will have a few more opportunities with a degree. I am also going to flesh out my business plan a bit more. Rents in this town are crazy for commercial space. But I can't let that stop me from putting the plan together and seeing what happens.

My short term memory is still shot. This recorder has become a savior for me already and I haven't even started work yet. I can replay what Ken wanted, or where Sarah said she was going. I'm not needing it as much as I was last week, which gives me hope that my brain is recovering slowly. I have bought many notebooks and pens, and I have lost just as many. I put them down and they go poof into the air. The recorder seems to just stay in my purse.

And this week is a time of sadness for my anyway. We are coming up on the anniversary of the death of Craig. My dear friend's sweet son who left us entirely too soon. I wanted him to fall in love with one of my girls so my grandchildren could have his blue eyes and sweet smile. I wanted to watch him continue to bloom into the fabulous man he was becoming. I want to hug him again. Dear sweet boy, you are loved and you are missed.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I just drove to work and back. Ken went with me. I got a little teary eyed about StoodieVille, but self talked my way through it. As I was turning right towards the buildings there was good old Frank and his big grin waving at me as he was trying to turn left to leave. Thank you God for that little boost. It was good to see his smile again. If it wouldn't be sexual harassment I'd say something about wishing I could have seen the wranglers too, but I can't say that.

The other day Leslie noticed that I rub my shoulder when I talk about work. I tell her there is a dull ache in it that I'm trying to rub out. But Tamara, the only time you rub it, is when you talk about work. Pay attention to that this week and see if it aches any other times.

She may be on to something. As I hit the city limits of Jacksonville my shoulder started this piercing pain. It feels like someone is stabbing me. As we circle the buildings it just gets worse. Ken mentions I complained about the same thing when we came by work last Sunday, and that I rubbed my shoulder a lot. By the time I leave the city I can hardly hold onto the steering wheel. By StoodieVille, the pain is gone. Interesting.

Ken thinks I'm going to get my first speeding ticket ever soon. Honey you are going 85. Maybe you should move over to the other lane sooner, you got awful close to that guys bumper. Honey, speed limit goes down to 55 here. Now remember, you will be working some 1/2 days so this school zone might be active when you come through here. You didn't drive this fast going to Jacksontown, but you were this aggressive. This isn't like you Tamara. Ken is starting to sound like me before I found knitting. I'm usually a horrible passenger. I flinch and squirm and hit my phantom brake pedal. I warn Ken about people braking up ahead of us and all the swerving drivers. Now that I knit I'm hardly ever looking up. Ken thinks knitting is the most fabulous invention ever.

But he's right, this isn't how I drive normally. I'm  a very defensive driver. I look ahead for the billion things that can go wrong and think what would I do if? I judiciously use cruise control, I have always liked to go fast but would choose when and where. There are some roads, like the highway between StoodyVille and Jacksontown that you just don't go that fast on. I had no idea I was going 85, I didn't want to use cruise control, it felt good to fly. I don't know if this is just the medication taking some edges off, or this is part of the new brain. Time will tell. Making it to 52 without a speeding ticket ever is some kind of a record I would think.


We get home and Ken leads me to the shower. Hot steamy water, lavender scented soap, and a good back and foot rub. I am blessed.

So my return to work day is now Friday. I will only work 1/2 day from 8 -12. My immediate supervisor will not be there, she took annual leave that day. Then starting next Tuesday I start work from 7 - 11. My immediate supervisor won't be there that day either. I work part time for two weeks (I think) and then we gradually add hours until I'm back up to my regular schedule. I mention to HR that I really want to go back to 7-5:30 four days a week. That way I can do all my appointments on Friday and don't have to use leave time etc. I also mentioned that was one of the things my direct supervisor had mentioned that I would possibly be losing soon. HR doesn't seem to think that schedule will be a problem at all, especially for that reason.

Leslie has advised me to come up with something to say when people ask where I've been. Something that won't get me in trouble, but will answer the question. She says turning the question back to the asker is always a good plan. So if someone asks where I've been say something like "oh here and there, is that a new shirt? That color is so lovely!" If someone says I hear you went crazy, I can say "its not all that far from here, didn't I see you there too?" Ok, maybe not that one.

I think I'll just say I needed some time and then ask a work related question. Nothing makes co-workers scatter faster than asking them to do something for you.

I am sitting on my bed typing this. The windows are open and there is a light breeze blowing my curtains. There are a few different birds chirping at each other, and one loud one is just flat hollering, I will name him Dave after my brother in law. The sun is starting its descent and the sunlight on the grass looks like warm butter. Soft and golden. The Desert Willow outside my window is in full purple bloom.

Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four. Soak it in. Bury it into my memory. I can pull this moment back into my brain whenever I want and feel safe. I am my fortress, I can be safe anywhere. I am a beautiful perfect child of God.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Chapter Twenty-Six

Stress management requires three elements. Think of it as a three leg stool and you are balanced on the top juggling your life. One leg is support, one leg is information, and one leg is control. If one of these legs is shorter than the other you start to wobble. Wobbling for a while is OK, but you need to work on what is lacking. Plus the effort it takes to juggle your life is increased. It becomes harder to juggle, you drop a thing or two.

When two are out kilter you are in some trouble. It requires more effort to balance, and you are more likely to start dropping more important things. You drop some of your support system, you just don't have time to give them right now, you drop that book club as it's just too much pressure to read and show up. As you drop things the stressors in your life tend to become larger and even more difficult to handle. You stress about more things, all those things you are dropping, and the activities you are missing that fed your soul. The last and final leg tends to start splintering. And then you fall.

My control leg is what failed completely first. I was maintaining. Just survive this little rough patch, improvements are coming, new management is in place, give us a little time. I had a plan. Keep doing my job, self teach myself as much as I could about the systems we were putting in place, just hang on. Then go for the training position that should be opening up any day. The more things changed, the more our little section was blocked out of participating. The implementation team is screaming for help, but we aren't allowed to even be trained. Pretty clear message about how unimportant we are. I had one on one conversations with management that were supposedly confidential. The contents of those meetings were hurled at me in anger during my written reprimand. Do not trust them when they say "you can talk to me about anything. If you have concerns my door is open." That is a complete lie. Paranoia becomes a strong part of your persona. Some people shut down, turn inward. I did that for a while. Others start lashing out. Sarcasm becomes second nature. I did this for a while too. As my control leg failed, my information leg started wobbling.

My information leg was adequate to begin with. I knew I was under stress. I tried to find ways of relieving it. We have wellness/safety classes at work and we did a little test about stress. If you scored over a certain number you were at high risk. I scored double whatever that number was. However, by the time I took the test I had been too far down the long term stress road for too long to be able to self help. I actually maintained pretty well for a long time. Years even. I had the basics down. Eat good food, exercise, create. However I was suppressing instead of managing. You can only suppress for so long. The thing about suppression is it's not selective. You can't say "I'm going to suppress this frustration" when you suppress, everything is suppressed, even the joy and delight and happy of life gets suppressed. Things you would normally cherish become unimportant. This also feeds into the control leg. It just starts to snowball.

You lose your good judgment. You become suspicious of everything and question every motive. Even good things are look at with scepticism. Once upon a time I was a cheerleader for management at work. I bought into it all. That change was coming, that employees would have a voice, that management really was listening. Once I lost that faith it was harder and harder to juggle. I stopped participating in things.

My support system is my strong leg. Ken, my faith, my kids, family, friends. I have people in my life who love and support me. However, as I was spiraling down the loss of control and information path, I was isolating myself from my support. I knew I wasn't myself. I knew I was crazy, and I was ashamed. I was holding onto my sanity by the tips of my fingers and I didn't want anyone to know how bad it was.

I was sick a lot. I could not stay healthy through fall and winter. I caught every bug that came through the office. Since I was sick, I couldn't go visit family, or help Ken with constructing our Burning Man equipment, or keep up with the house work. Snowball after snowball.

I was showing every single symptom of long term stress and possibly PTSD. And then on April 11th my brain gave up.

My support leg is recovering. I am learning about the new me and look forward to more of the old me coming back. My information leg has had to be rebuilt from scratch. I am devouring information about long term stress, techniques for getting through a panic attack, healthy eating, dieting, and these newly found creative opportunities I've found. Writing, fabric, and knitting. The control leg is still my big problem. I have no control over my work environment and I am working hard on getting to a place in my life where I can have more control.

I'm exploring becoming a full time student and finish my degree. I am going to explore how to build a business plan. I have an idea about a business that I would like to start. I have to research small business loans, backers, etc. and come up with a plan. Pay down debt. Take the power this company has over me away. So that if it continues to be this toxic for me, I can walk away without losing my house.

Step by step, baby steps some days, other days big giant steps. I go to my doctor on Tuesday to get my return to work release signed. I am due to start work Thursday part time. Two weeks of part time, then slowly had an hour at a time until I'm back up to full speed. If I have a panic attack it's an automatic three day break.

Yes, I am scared. No, I don't think anything at work has changed. I am going right back into the same situation that wore me down. Yes, I know, I'm crazy. I have a mortgage on a house that I love. But, we have a few plans, and I'm seeing color mixed into my life. On April 11th all I saw was black.

I am my own fortress. I am strong, I am loved. I am a beautiful, perfect child of God.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Chapter Twenty-Five

Traveling always stresses Ken. He was not born with any sort of internal compass and gets turned around easily. I wake up to an already jumpy husband. Plus, all the hotels in Lubbock are full so we will be sleeping on an air mattress on our nieces floor. Full on immersion into the crazy world of the Barnes'. We are both a little nervous about that. We have been fairly isolated out here in the home fortress. However our niece is graduating from Texas Tech and this is one of those I wouldn't miss it for the world moments. Ken is working until 11:00 and then we are eating lunch and heading out.

Today will be a complete role reversal. Today I am the comforting spouse and the one that should be the nurturer. Clearly he is better at this role than I am. We haven't even made it through coffee yet and I'm glaring at him. By the time I've loaded his lunchbox with fruit and snacks we aren't even talking. I wonder how in the world he has put up with me these last few weeks. I apologize to him for being so needy and not supporting him as I should today. He asks what the hell I'm talking about. So, to the shower.

Today I spend extra time on his feet and his shoulders. I use my forearm to massage the small of his back. As we are drying off he asks me to stop apologizing. It makes me feel bad when you think you have to apologize to me for all this. OK, no more apologies. Can you make sure the GPS is working and take a look at google maps, see if there is a way to go that doesn't have a lot of traffic? Sure, sure I can. Try and find a hotel again. OK, i'll look some more.

Hotels have been booked in Lubbock for this weekend since last year. That and the surge in oil production in west Texas has hotels and campgrounds packed. I have a better chance at winning the lottery than getting a hotel room in Lubbock or any of the surrounding cities.

I find a route that I think will work and figure out how to trick the GPS into thinking that is the best route ever.

The route I found is beautiful. The Texas Hill Country in full on spring mode is breathtaking. Miraculously we have left the house ahead of schedule and can just take our time. Ken counts the cars that pass us. In one 10 mile stretch we only had one car pass. For all the angst of the morning, this drive has turned into a peaceful, restful event. I pull out my knitting and we chit chat and laugh our way to Lubbock.

I come from a very LOUD family. We very much like to be heard. The competition for the floor is very fierce. I gave up trying to hold the floor years ago and just throw out random one liners when possible. Someone standing outside might think there was a brawl going on inside, but it's just the Barnes clan having a conversation. The telling and retelling of stories, the booming laughter, the pure intensity of our emotions usually leaves Ken as a wallflower just wanting to blend into the background. For some reason this time he's jumping in. Telling stories, making jokes. Telling our brother in law about the Naked Bike Ride and Pub Crawl at Burning Man, about some of the art, about what it means to him. He empowers me.

I am wearing a long orange dress with one of the sarongs I dyed tied into a jacket. Different attire for me around my family. Usually I stick to jeans and a nice shirt. My sisters put in orders for their own sarongs. I take a deep breathe and jump into the conversation. I tell them about watching Ken bloom at the Burn. About how it's Ken's goal in life to make Sarah cover her ears and run screaming from the room and various ways he's achieved that goal. Why is it that kids think old farts like us don't have sex? About how Sarah has started calling before she comes home now. Is everybody clothed? Ken's other two goals are to walk 10,000 steps a day and to get an all over tan before this year's Burn. I made him a soft belt out of a red t-shirt so he can wear his step counter and tan at the same time. It's very convenient to have a home and land that can't be seen from any road or by any neighbors. I show them the picture of what I was wearing when the Jehovah's Witnesses came calling. Me in my purple corset and tutu, Ken in his red string. We are pretty sure the witnesses marked our fence in some way as they haven't been back since.

Most of the group is heading out to continue the party at a bar, Ken and I stay at the house and crash. The traveling and the time spent with this crazy bunch of people has exhausted both of us.

As I'm falling asleep I realize I haven't thought about workers compensation, short term disability, or anything work related at all. Throwing yourself fully into what is in front of you, loving hard and laughing loud. I wish they could bottle this stuff.

Courtney Myers becomes a Texas Tech Alumni on Saturday morning at the 9:00 ceremony. Despite the requests from the university to leave air horns and whistles at home "to preserve the dignity of this occasion", when Courtney's name is announced multiple air horns, whistles and loud, boisterous cheers express the Barnes clan's own idea of what the occasion means to us.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

How to Dye a Parachute

The first step in tie-dyeing a parachute is to acquire a parachute. Ken bought our pink parachute last year when we were playing around with building our own shade structure for Burning Man. We ended up not using it, but we both keep trying to figure out something fun to do with it. This year we are going to put it underneath the shade cloth of the Dye Shop's monkeyhut.

Next fold your parachute in 1/2, then 1/2 again. Now simply bunch it up and tie with ropes.

We used RIT dye for this project. To mix the dye follow the instructions on the bottle for tub dyeing.   I didn't start taking pictures until we had already done the red and the purple.




We used a big tote for the large end of the parachute and as we started getting to the top we switched over to an old ice chest.



This is dyeing the blue part. We had to let it soak a really long time to get it past just being a different shade of purple. The base color of the parachute is pink. Any color you dye it will interact with your base color. While it soaked I knit 8 rows on Jett's baby blanket. 


Green took a while too. Really think about your base color when you pick your RIT colors. I guess we could have bleached the material first, but we didn't think about it. I knit another 8 rows while this set up. 

Next is yellow, but combined with the pink and some red we had experimented with earlier we achieved some interesting mix of color. Yes, we stuck rope in with some of the colors. I mean, if you have a tie dyed parachute you HAVE to have colored rope, right? 


We added some orange to the already mixed yellow and put 1/2 original end of the parachute that we had dyed red back in. I think that turned out to be my favorite section. 


Squirt with a hose till the color stops coming out. Then spread it out over something and spray it some more. 











Thursday, May 17, 2012

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ken paid special attention to my feet in this morning's shower and I almost fell asleep leaning against the shower wall. Glorious foot rub to start my day. Our coffee is good and strong and the mood is light and easy. Ken actually does the boogie woogie around the kitchen island and I fall in love all over again. I am the luckiest woman in the world.

Ken has given quite a list of things to do today. Top on the list is finding out where some missing paperwork is for my FMLA leave. CIGNA requested yet another form from my doctor and as yet have not received it. My work can't request donated leave hours until CIGNA gets that form. So, first on my list is to physically go to the doctors office and wait for the form to be signed, then fax it to CIGNA. No form, no paycheck. Or only 1/2 a paycheck.

At this time CIGNA has denied my short term disability as they feel this is a work related injury. Workers Compensation (or rather the insurance company that processes workers comp for my company) has denied my claim as they don't consider mental stress a work issue. If I had witnessed someone being shot and had PTSD, then it would be covered. But anxiety and panic attacks due to long term stress is not considered to be a work related injury. I can appeal both decisions.

To appeal Workers Comp I have three options.
1. Do it myself.
2. Hire a lawyer.
3. Have a state agency assign me an ombudsman to process the appeal for me.

To appeal the short term disability denial I have to write up a statement, attach a copy of my denial letter from Workers Comp, and get copies of all my records of doctor visits etc (that they already have, but I have to send them again). My case manager said Of course you can appeal! But you won't get anywhere. This is a work related injury. That's how we see it. But, send all that in. Good luck.

So I'm stuck between two insurance companies that won't pay and both say the other should. What a system.

I find out the delay with getting the paperwork from my doctor is she is out of town. Has been for a while and won't be back until next Tuesday. I leave messages for everyone I can think of with CIGNA, HR, and Workers Compensation.

I am oddly calm. I am more upset about this stupid stockinette stitch that is loose and wanky on the baby blanket i'm knitting for my grandson. How's that for some redirection? I am sitting at the tire place, waiting on my car. It is getting rotated and balanced and I am knitting the second thing I've ever knitted in my life. I feel so normal. Hallelujah! I laugh out loud and the little old man sitting next to me grins. He tells me his wife was a knitter and we are off into a wonderful, warm conversation. We are both a little disappointed when the technician tells me my car is ready. I hug my little old man goodbye and next on my list is the grocery store. But a funny thing happens. My car takes me home. I had every intention of going to the store and am confused about how I got home. So, ok, still healing. I really want my brain back, I miss it.

The HR department from work calls and thinks that my therapist can fill out the form and CIGNA will be satisfied with that. If I can make that happen by Tuesday before payroll closes then maybe I can get a paycheck. I immediately call Leslie and of course she can. Forms are left in mailboxes and I go home and add to tomorrow's list to call and check things with Leslie, CIGNA, and HR. Look at me. Taking care of business.

I might never be "cured." Leslie thinks I might be dealing with some sort of anxiety for the rest of my life. I have to pay special attention to stressors, learn to recognize the signals my body is sending my brain, and try and deflect, redirect, calm, and move forward. I have definite short term memory issues. And these weird basic personality changes. I am learning about the new me.

As my friend Dave says "Keep moving towards the light." I am my fortress. I can be safe anywhere with some practice.

Chapter Twenty-Three


This week is dedicated to coming up with strategies to return me to work with minimal chances of another meltdown. Leslie suggests talking to Dr. Thompson about doubling up my meds. Just nuke my brain with happy pills until it figures out no one is actually trying to kill my body. Suppress the fight or flight instincts. I'm concerned about that option on several levels.

1. Evidently I need to be alert and guarded about who I talk to and what I say. Particularly my opinions are not wanted or welcome, plus the rules that apply to me are very different than the rules that apply to my co-workers. I need to not get lulled back into that false team feeling again. It's ok for the rest of the "team" to complain about things or have opinions about decisions, not me. Even one on one meetings with assurances of confidentiality and Please come talk to me when you have concerns, are not to be trusted. Ever. On second thought maybe more happy pills will make it more possible to just not care. I still have no idea about the "communicate more professionally" issue. To this day I've not been given any examples of when I didn't.

2. I am a recovering alcoholic. 24 years sober. Dependence on any chemical bothers me. I know, I know, this isn't drug abuse, not even close. I really do need these meds right now, my natural body chemistry was completely deleted and exhausted. I think that without the meds and Ken's support there would have been some hospital time involved here. But, the impulse to double down on happy pills does need a hard look at necessity vs. convenience. I still have the panic pills as back up if I get into a bind. Right?

3. It is a 40 minute drive. That's a lot of happy to be driving around with. Not really something I want to play with. I would never forgive myself if I hurt someone.

Leslie suggests asking for a transfer. I laughed out loud on that one. That's part of the original issue. I've been begging to get out of that cubicle and back out with people for over five years now. All those hang in theres, we are working on it, wow its just bad timing, we have these envision people we need to work into our group, oh we forgot to put ", or 4 years work experience in related field" in that job description, we will get that fixed. Next time Tamara. Opportunities are going to open up here. All words, no action.

And of course, after this little meltdown, there isn't another manager there who would touch me. So I am going right back into the same situation that melted me down in the first place. Of course I am no longer the same person. I am learning to not care so much. The extrovert in me has been beaten into submission. Work is a place. It is not a family. Work does not care about me. I get money and they get someone to answer the phone.

 I am aware of what to look for in myself. All those needs I have to create and nurture will have to be done elsewhere. My time away from work will be dedicated to creativity, health, and self improvement. At work I can turn that part of me off.

I wish quitting were an option. We were already working on downsizing before all this happened. Ken and I are one year into a three year plan. Even at three years it was an aggressive plan, not sure how we can modify it to make it happen faster. Well, besides selling the house. I'd rather save that for plan Z, not plan A.

So, basically I'm left with suck it up. Albeit on happy pills, but suck it up. Continue to eat good foods, exercise, weekly Leslie and Dr. Thompson visits for a while, create beautiful things, and play. I am not ready to give up on my Burning Man plans. We have invested so much of ourselves and have so many people depending on us. At this point Leave Without Pay is my only option. And that certainly won't make anyone at work happy.

Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four. My work environment does not define me. I know my truth. I know my value.


Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Chapter Twenty-Two

I have spent a good amount of time this week identifying feelings associated with my work timeline. This has been an intense week for me emotionally, but essential. I have had some incredible highs in my personal life and these have helped to carry me through. Katelyn's graduation, Jett's birth, Christine's lovely visit. I've spent time looking for and paying attention to the little things that make my life so wonderful. Showers with Ken, the smell of Lillian's hair, the feel of Ken's hands on mine when he hands me my morning coffee, a new blue flower I've never seen before in the pasture. These small moments too have carried me. I delight in my life. I am so blessed to have these gifts.

This week I have to start preparing for a return to my office. Sunday on the way home from East Texas, Ken and I stopped at my office complex. I sat in the car and focused my brain on Ken and on breathing. Do you think you can get out of the car, or is this enough for today? I can get out. 

Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four. Again I send my brain to burning man. This time we are riding our bikes out to the deep playa. The dust is blowing and I have my scarf wrapped around my face. I feel like the Queen of Sheba. 

Ken holds my hand and we walk around the main building. I keep my eyes straight ahead and just walk and breathe. Ken doesn't try to have a conversation, just gently holds my hand. We circle the building and arrive back at the car. I think we need to keep walking straight, walk past the building I work in, then across the street and by the annex. Ok, whenever you are ready honey, I am so proud of you. I think how ridiculous it is that Ken has to be proud of me for walking around some buildings. As we walk past my building I realize I am gripping Ken's hand so tightly my hand is numb. I can't seem to relax my grip and I feel dizzy.

Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four. We are past it, and cross the street. The dizziness is gone, I can look around. We walk back to the car and get in. Ken keeps his hand on my leg as we drive away. I think I might get sick, but I keep breathing and send my brain back to holding Jett and the smell of his sweet baby body. We make it to the rest area 1/2 way home and I make Ken stop and I run into the bathroom. Are you ok? Can I get you a cold towel? No, I'm fine, I'm fine. I must have eaten something bad. Do you want me to get your husband? I think he's outside, there is a man out there looking worried. No, thank you. I'm fine. I think it's all out now. 

Thank God for Juicy Fruit. 

The next step is I have to drive myself to Jacksonville, and I need to call a few friends and see about maybe meeting for lunch. Ken is worried about me driving there. Maybe we can just take a drive one evening together with me behind the wheel and see how that goes first. Baby steps, but my return to work date is quickly approaching and I do still have a mortgage. Worker's Compensation has denied my claim and now I have to decide how to proceed. I can appeal the Workers Comp decision and I can appeal the short term disability decision. I have made the appropriate phone calls and am waiting for call backs. I take it as a sign of progress that the Workers Comp denial hasn't sent me into a tailspin. It seems I am beginning to regain my ability to deal. That's good, I will need that skill. 

For now, I am the proud parent of a Baylor alumni. I have a new grandson, Jett who is perfect. I get to snuggle with Ken every night and shower with him every morning. And I am learning how to knit. I am blessed.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Chapter Twenty-One

Saturday morning we wake up at Katelyn’s house. Christine, Sarah and Lillian came into town last night and we have all three of our girls together. There is a lot of juggling of bathrooms, mirrors, blow dryers and hair straighteners. The sounds of three girls getting gussied up for the day. I alternate between irritation at how slow everyone is moving and happiness of the moment. I try and concentrate on how blessed I am but really, move your butts. Katelyn has been having nightmares that she starts to walk across the stage and Ken Starr says, hold on a minute, you aren’t on the list. My mom calls and she and dad are already at the venue and warn the seats are filling up fast. I want to go with Katelyn, but for some reason we don’t and my agitation increases. FINALLY in a car and I’m shaking. Ken suggests a ½ a pill. Perfect.

The graduates enter the stadium from all four corners. I am trying to find Katelyn in the sea of black, green and gold. My nephew Donnie spots her, eighteen rows back, second from the end of the center section. Right next to the interpreters for the deaf. Music is played, prayers are lifted, speakers go on and on. And then the names start being read. Row after row. Beautiful child after beautiful child. There are a couple of large screens and as each graduate's name is called their sweet faces are projected for all to see. Some make funny faces, one young lady has written I love you mom on her hand and flashes it to the crowd. A young man mouths Thank you Daddy. A star basketball player gets a rousing ovation from his fellow students. Even without the announcement you can tell who the theater arts graduates are. 



As each row rises, names are verified from a list and radioed up to the diploma guardians. They make sure the correct diploma is given to President Starr for the correct graduate. As Katelyn’s row rises for their turn, there seems to be a delay. The list checker keeps checking the list, Katelyn and girl in front of her are very focused on the list checker. Katelyn’s shoulders rise up and stay. A signal she is nervous. The row ahead of them is almost all done at the stage and still Katelyn’s row is standing in place. And then the row is moving, and is lined up next to the stage. Whatever snagged the works was worked out. And there she is on the big screen. Katelyn Erin Price. Handshake, green tube with diploma exchanges hands, a long walk across the stage, and tassel moved from one side to the other. Katelyn Erin Price is now a Baylor alumni. Masters and Doctorates are awarded, more music and then we are all funneling out the door.

Glorious day of celebration. Katelyn is surrounded by her friends and family and no one can stop grinning. Ken and Katelyn roll out the diploma and Ken can’t hold in the tears any longer. They hold each other close and then wipe the tears off each other’s faces. Thank you God for this moment. I will cherish it forever. 





I ask Katelyn about the delay with her row. She and the girl in front of her were in fact not on the list. After several tense, gut wrenching moments, the list checker realized he had the wrong row’s list.

Thank you God for the many blessing of this day. Now, we head to East Texas to welcome a grandbaby.

Work, stress, anxiety, and depression are a lifetime away from today. I am blessed.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Chapter Twenty

Friday morning and we get to sleep late! Ken took off work as we are heading to Waco today to set up for Katelyn’s graduation reception. As we go to make our coffee and start our day we are reminded that our fortress has been breached. Christine has five laundry baskets lined up coming out of the laundry room. No one is around, just a line of laundry that looks to be mostly towels, and a lot of towels at that. Coffee and then an extra long shower. Showers are more fun with good soap and no time restraints. Did I mention our hot water heater is 50 gallons? You pay for what is important to you. Ken does not like getting blasted with cold water.

Christine, Sarah, and Lillian eventually wander downstairs and start their day. Mimi play! No mimi work, we need to get packed up. Mimi play! Mimi work. Lillian gets behind me and gently pats the backs of my knees until I walk into the living room. She sits and pats the floor, Mimi play. So, what can a Mimi do? We read books, we pat babies to sleep, we put legos together, then take them apart. Grumpy walks back and forth from the bedroom to the car showing us all how he got that particular nickname. Lillian runs to him and bear hugs his legs, then pats the backs of his knees into the living room and makes him sit. Drumpty play. My turn to pack.

Whirlwind Sarah hits the room, lunch and a diaper bag appear, and Lillian and Sarah are off to work and day care. Christine decides this is too many towels to wash at home and is heading to the laundromat with the remainders of the towels and Sarah’s laundry.

Ken and I look at each other. We have the house to ourselves! But no time to play. We go collect the cake from the bakery and hit the road.

My friend Angela has given me a Learn to Knit kit and I decide that road tripping is a grand opportunity to pay attention to knitting. Since usually my job is navigator and the pointer outer of all things that could potentially involve us in a life ending wreck, Ken is in love with Angela. Before I know it, Jacksontown is here and then we are through it, and I escape with only minor hive irritation.

Our baby is graduating from Baylor. I won’t say Katelyn is the smart one in the bunch of kids that we claim as ours, but I will say she’s the only one that cared about grades. All five of the other kids had other priorities. They can all entertain the heck out of you. Very engaging, creative, fun loving, superb kids. Katelyn is the baby and the first to get through college, and the only one to make Honor Society. She cares about grades. I ask John how school is going and I get “no worries mommy!” and he passes by the skin of his teeth, I ask Katelyn how it’s going and it’s doom and gloom, I’m a failure, I know I bombed that test. Then Oh, I got an A.  On the dean’s list for all A’s multiple times. If anyone has a job for a recent Baylor grad with a Bachelors of Art & Sciences in Medical Humanities and Child and Family Development, let me know. She’s looking.

I have left my fortress for two days of real life. Katelyn’s graduation, and I have a new grandson I get to go snuggle. Bonus hugs from his two big brothers. Jett Moeller was born Thursday, May 10, weighing in at 8lbs, 9.5 ozs. and was 21 inches long. Black long hair and lots of it.

Ken is so proud he is practically floating to Waco. Just driving along with the sweetest little grin on his face. We talk about cute little things Katelyn did growing up. How she can’t eat chocolate STILL without getting some on her face. How when she was in kindergarten, I would pick her up from school and ask What did you do in school today, and she would respond I didn’t do it. I had to learn how to ask my questions differently. Tell me about your day Katelyn. Tell me about how the hair on that side of your head is shorter than the hair on the rest of your head. How excited she was that Christmas when we got her a new flute. How beautiful she looked in a pink puffy prom dress that she swore she wouldn’t even try on, but did, and felt like a princess. She floated down the stairs that night. Stunning in her pink, sparkly glory. How dearly we love her.

My heart is full of love. I am out in the world. I am surrounded by beautiful memories.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Guest post from Christine

Christine didn’t know she was leaving a guest blog, she thought she was leaving a note. I’m going to try and replicate all her font colors to the best of my ability.

Dear Daddy and Tamara,

I really enjoyed my trip! Especially the walk on Main & lunch with Tyler, Tamara, and Lesley.

Now that I have a more reliable car I plan on making the trip at least once a month, there’s usually a time where my schedule lines up and I have 3 days in a row off.

I missed getting to take a walk w/Daddy this time but Sarah, Lillian & I got to take one. I brought the red & white umbrella that was on the kitchen counter & i’m not sure if it was already broken or if the wind did it, but some of the spokes snapped at the hinge. I put it in the back of the purple truck w/the trash but not in the bag on the off chance ya’ll wanted to try and salvage it or the material.

I hope you like your clean kitchen. I thought I should let you know where I put alot of stuff.

1. If it belongs in the bathroom, NOT the kitchen, then I put it in the downstairs bathroom ie lotion, lipstick, frizease, toilet paper, etc. (HAVE SARAH ORGANIZE)

__________________________________________________________________

2. I didn’t put medicine in the drawer. I was worried that since it was on the counter it must be used often. So i put it in a small box on the counter. I saw some EXPIRED medicine, which if VERY DANGEROUS. Maybe Tamara could go through it and get rid of the out of date items. It would free up space in the medicine drawer and the box on the counter would no longer be needed...giving you MORE COUNTER SPACE, so everyone wins. :-)

__________________________________________________________________

3. There are 3 different paper stacks.
A) The one on the Island is for the most part mail. It needs to be sorted. There is UNOPENED mail there as well as Boy’s rabies tag.
B) The one on the lower counter next to the cookbooks is mostly emails and other miscellanious things. It also NEEDS TO BE SORTED and filed.
C) The third one is on the Bar. It looked like important paper work for Tamara & I didn’t want to mix it up w/the miscellaneous pile.

__________________________________________________________________

4. Daddy, you had TOOLS ALL over the counter. ALL tools and hardware as well as safety sunglasses went into a cardboard box on the counter.

__________________________________________________________________

5. Your coffee station had dead bugs all over the counter. I stacked the boxes and tried to make it less cluttered. There was also sugar everywhere. When it gets wet it would attract bugs.

__________________________________________________________________

6. The bread and chips are in the cabinet above the forks. Also in the cabinet there were multiple bags of the SAME cereal & snacks. I put the cereal in the tupperware that was empty & taking up space anyway & I combined bags that were halfway full, which gave you room to get the bread and chips off the counter where it was attracting bugs. There were extra chips left over, i put them in a container where the bread used to be.

__________________________________________________________________

7. All electronics such as wires & remotes are in a dish on the bar under the clock.

__________________________________________________________________


8. I found several flashlights. They are in a container on the bar.

_________________________________________________________________

9. I had to throw some food away. There were banana’s w/broken skin, a bag of rotten grapefruit and an oranged that looked fine, but was covered in gnats. w/in 10 minutes of getting rid of these few things the gnats started to disappear. w/in an hour they were gone. I don’t know about you, but if someone cleaned my kitchen w/o being asked and threw out food I would be pissed. Which is why I enclosed a few bucks to replace the food I threw out. NO FOOD ON THE COUNTER! ! Fruit bowls are pretty but it seem ya’ll don’t eat it fast enough and it attracts gnats through the windows.

_________________________________________________________________

10. You have a candy dish now.

_________________________________________________________________

11. Phone books are under the phone. Genius right?

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12. I wiped all the counters. There was dust so thick I had to scrape it off w/my nails. I didn’t want to finish off all your cleaning supplies which is why it’s a little streaky. Sorry. I lysoled the surfaces. Bugs don’t like the smell of cleaning liquids/sprays, I thought it might help with the gnats.



Raid has an insecticide for FLYING INSECTS. At my house I closed the windows, then from the OUTSIDE sprayed all my screens. Since you guys have a porch, the rain shouldn’t wash it off. It acts as a repellant but also kills for like 8 wks. or something like that, so the gnats that sneek through the screen will die shortly after getting which means no eggs in your house. :-)



The coffee station needs to be cleaned again b/c I couldn’t remove all the sugar from the counter.

It’s about 12:45 pm and I should have already left. I love you and I didn’t want to offend you w/this letter. Sometimes I get overwhelmed & don’t know where to start which is why I helped Sarah w/ her laundry & you w/the kitchen. You guys seemed overwhelmed.


Christine

p.s. I forgot an item on your list. You now have a pen jar. All pens, pencils, loose markers go in here.

p.p.s. I asked Sarah to put toys Lillian can’t play with w/o supervision out of reach in her (Lillian’s) room. The bar is not a junk drawer, it’s a bar...